#love, Lifestyle, Millennials, Poem, Spells, Uncategorized

Solar Energy

Who will love this man?

A question I sometimes ask myself at night while alone listening to music and feeding to  my oral fixation with a cigar I purchased from an Asian restaurant.

Deep thoughts circle in my mind. Some so dark that I immediately pray they never escape my mind. Others so enlightening that I fear ill be crucified if I ever form words to express them.

You see, I’m afraid of myself. My essence and my power make me feel like I’m the Sun; beautiful to look at but too dangerous to get close to.

My clairvoyant persona something I sometimes wish I could hide but like the sun surrounded by clouds its only a matter of time before the light on the other side peaks through again.

As I begin to regain focus my vision clears and I recognized my path, filled lighted and  truth.

Yet some nights I still find myself asking:

“Who will love this man?”

Who will be brave enough to love the man who holds the power to either heal or destroy the world?

HE, he will love Self; for his survival in this dimension rest upon this defining decision.

 

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#culture, #love, #relationships, All lives matter, Black lives matter, College debt, Lifestyle, Millennials, Niggas, Poem, Short stories, Spells, Uncategorized

Euphoric 

As I stood in the doorway, eyes piercing through the dark of the night, obsessing over satins unique ability to caress every curve and angle of her frame. 
I received an impulse to approach my prey. So smitten I don’t recall how I traveled the distance. Maybe I glided, maybe my wings flew me towards my dream.

Losing control of my bodily functions-it was if my heart took control and didn’t require permission from my brain anymore-while she lay still on her back like a goddess waiting to be taken by her fierce gladiator. 

My fingers began to caress the triangular parts of her body and steadily moved to the creasing parts of her spine, sliding towards the cushions of her backbone. 

Between her thighs I feel the steam from her ocean shooting out like a rapid fire; enough to invoke a mist. 

My palms soon seek refuge in her well groomed garden. My brain begins to function slightly but only enough for me to imagine the pleasures my extension may feel might I dare expose it to her narrow river.
This would not be the first time I’d taken a dip in these warm waters -where I’d been many times smalls distances between life and death-and it wouldn’t be the last.

while on this expedition toward passion I always retrieve myself moments before my demise. Within each step I take towards an inevitable death I feel I become more alive. 

I have no control of myself yet full control of her, this is my final fantasy, this euphoria.

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#culture, #love, Black lives matter, Lifestyle, Poem, Uncategorized

We Love America 

Dear America,We spend all of our money at your stores, and wait patiently in long lines outside of your doors,to spend money we got from jobs doing your unwanted chores, where we’re forced to accept what you pay us because we’re scared to ask for more. 

We give and you take, we spend you make. We may bend a little but we’ll never break. When we beg you to stop you call up your cops. So now We ain’t even safe on our own blocks!

They could come to our neighborhoods kills us and leave and all theyd ever get is administrative paid leave. They’d even get money in their gofundme account, all for killing the kid whose name was hard to pronounce. 

You break down our schools,pack us in buildings. promote drugs and violence to all of our black children. So Come Friday night we go to club because the partying helps us forget all this stuff! 

But Our homes remain broken and absent of trust. See what your slavery did to us? You chained us physically, spiritually and mentally. Your slavery is even in our music industry. Because We use to sing about pride and hope. But now all I ever hear is guns and dope.  

So Who’s gonna be these young brothers role model? When theyre learning how to hold guns before they can hold thier own bottlles. The sisters need some guidance too because there ain’t no more Lauren hills or eryka badus. All I ever see on the TV screen, are women who look like they’ve been lotioned with bleaching cream. We used to shine bright like the Sun, now it’s like we’re selling our souls to be one of them.

Its like there ain’t no place for us. Because You do as you please and we do what we must. Yet and still we love America, but when will America ever love us? 

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