Saturday, June 10, 2006

Too Fucking Smooth




There was a time
when the brother was called a
cat.

Cool, sophisticated, urbane and smooth

with the veiled threat of incomprehensible violence
right there
visible
like ripples of muscle
under smooth skin

Claws retracted within
nimble fingers on quick moving hands
holding cigarettes
or a saxophone

When he slid into a room
quiet almost
undetected

you knew he was there because of the force of his presence

He stood there still, taking in the scene

His vibe like the purring of a satisfied feline
who had just eaten

and been stroked to a level of satisfaction
that other men could not know.

Yeah
the brother used to be called cat

Hep cat, cool cat, bad mutherfucking cat,
cut you in a New York minute you fuck with him cat

Cruising through with

Music

Like Miles, Monk,
Rashan Roland Kirk,
or Coltrane filtering
through , music you can hear but can’t quite identify.

When he walked,
the sound
of his polyrhythmic footfalls
made the sidewalks drums,

made the streets pathways to the bush,

transformed you back to your ancestor self

Standing guard over the village young,
watching closely the tall grass
where you know the hunter animal lies in wait

for the juicy morsels of flesh to wander by.

Cool mutherfukka just stands there,
still

but you can feel
the tension coiled in him
like high tensile steel

You feel the chill in your blood,
the rush of adrenaline

Fight or flight.

And you be glad you got your Chucks on
so you can book at a moments notice

but no,

transfixed you stand there knowing he has better prey.

He feasts on the night

The pulse flows where only he knows, you are clueless

He knows with animal instinct

Slides up to that beauty that all others have found
both irresistible and unapproachable,
utters a short phrase and she looks at him,
regards him with danger and fascination covering her curiosity

and the next thing you know
they are gone into the night

To his lair

Yes, somewhere in the night he feeds himself

And the Cheshire cat grin finds itself on her face in the morning.

Yeah, they used to call the brother ‘Cat’

Never wonder why
now you know.

He was just
too fucking smooth
to be called anything else!

Friday, June 09, 2006

Sweet Words

sweet words
cut like daggers

when you tell me about
good things in your life

I forget all that's good in mine
and wake up to reality again

knowing that all my choices
will end with somebody's pain

better it be all mine now

so sweet words can come back again
between you and me

sweet words
I cannot hear now

without feeling
a hole in my heart

but at least I know
that its beating again

and one day will
be as happy as it can be

as happy as I allow it to be
without you

Haiku Quest

Rain, the gentle dew
Restless spirit seeking peace
Shimmering green grass...

Soft pillow the earth
mother to every nation
stand here in your tribe

Walk among people
spreading peace, where you travel
flower petals fall

Snow like, we dream on
no two alike, all the same
bleeding tears when cut

Can we settle down?
No longer restless, at peace
Brothers and Sisters

Sunday, June 04, 2006

e.e.cummings on kisses vs wisdom

since feeling is first
who pays attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you

wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
-the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelid's flutter which says

we are for each other:then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis


Now I dunno about you
but this dude sure hit
that nail hard and square
on the head.

I would trade a whole buncha stuff in my head for real good kisses.

And my blood definitely approves!

Wanting a Poet

You are soft lips
spread into a smile

Dimples crown your cheeks
and I wonder
what
it would be like
to kiss you.

That mouth caresses words
like waves of flames

Sets me off easily,
exploding with images you conjure
with suppleness, quickness, and grace.

I can't imagine your tongue
to be anything less
than pleasure itself.

Then you rock me with that wicked sense you have
of the world,
the way you see my weak attempts to get over on you
with meaningless words
cause you know what my game really is.

You know when I speak truth
and any time I'm not standing here
solid with my shit, is a game I cannot play
without you calling me out,
exposing me for the fool I thought
I got over being long before you were born.

You laugh, roll your eyes and snap a line at your girls
that has them looking at me like I was the
country boy seeing a skyscraper for the first time,
shocked, bewildered, and lost in concrete and asphalt,

hadn't shaken the straw out my hair,
the shit smell out my jeans.

And there you were hitting me with those eyes, those lips,
and that smile

making me grin like an idiot and throwing
my tattered bag over my sholder
and strolling down the street
like a pimp in a bad blaxploitation movie,

Like Huggy Bear bellbottoms were back in style and I
was wearing coveralls and humming John Denver or Neil Diamond songs,
looking just that foolish.

But, you are kind, take my battered ego and say,
"yes, you can sit next to me, maybe ask me out

and maybe even buy me a poem"

Friday, June 02, 2006

Night Kisses

I can still feel them
I don't even have to close my eyes
or breathe in
I can still smell you

feel you playfully kissing me
like a cat licks its milk

still feel the texture of your tongue
better than in my dreams

still feel how much I had to hold back
so you wouldn't know
how much I wanted
to keep going

pleasing you all the way through
reaching as far as I could
into you

like you reach into
me
without even trying

Effortlessly you wander
across my lips
into my mouth

setting off alarms
blazing wet fires

all over

all in
all around
so that
I can still feel them

You can do that again,
you never have to do that again
I don't want to be anything other than pleasure
fun
laughs
games
delight
for you

Pleasure in hearing our voices together
like our kisses

we both know that there are
those things that pull us away
from those sweet moments

ah, so sweet that
I can still feel them