I am convinced heaven exists solely in his arms
Head on chest to hear soulful sounds of nature
His long sinewy limbs are my tree of life
His marijuana laced lips tastes of the eighth wonder of the earth
Of dodged bullets, healed wounds and new birth
He is a miracle
So when he wraps his calloused hand around my neck, stares down at me with beauty reflected in his eyes
I feel it
Because big girls deserve love, and great head and bomb ass sex
But when he trails his palms down the length of my body I no longer feel cocky I’m in a panic
The extra sand in my hour glass is too much pressure, its beginning to crack, I am unraveling
His hand traveling on a mission to touch down on my sagging belly flesh
He skips the caress and grips it with urgency
Continues to stare at me in wonder and I resent his courtesy
He was not touching me, he was knee deep in something he would probably never understand
His hand gripping at the nucleous of my pain…
Do you think of me?
arched back under your caress
…tastes of loneliness
Sometimes I wish you
Loved me; or at least the parts
That are just like you
I am happy and so excited to announce that I will be releasing my first chapbook later this month! This particular work is a small collection of my original poems and writing pieces woven together to tell the story of a difficult period in my life.
I believe that most people wrestle with demons and struggle with mental health issues every day. For some, depression is innate as a result of a chemical imbalance—for others, there are “triggers”, or situations that can cause depression and send one on a downward spiral. For me, a series of events related to heartbreak, job loss and unexpected pregnancy propelled me into the darkest of places. The only way I know to describe it is an IMPLOSION—as if a gun had gone off internally, yet to others I appeared just fine on the outside. Out of this concept Trigger was born.
This project is very dear to me so it was important that I take the time to do it right and find ways to give readers more bang for their buck. My best friend and favorite artist, Traci L. Turner, was gracious enough to take on this project and work with me to design the cover which I reveal to you today. So even if you think the writing is crap, at least you will be investing in a wonderful piece of art for your coffee table or bookshelf.
Take a look and stay tuned for the official release date!
Also, check me out on internet radio this Saturday, February 6 at noon EST. Visit my website for more details…
Apology accepted. I needed to hear this. I am a little ashamed to admit that sometimes living up to the increasingly demanding beauty standards of the black man is frustrating.
I am still disproportionately salty that my booty doesn’t twerk
If only my stomach were flatter I could better appreciate my worth
If only my arms were thinner and my smile could be more perfect
Then I could be these women getting all of this attention, love and
is what is craved, and the chance to be loved for who I am
Outwardly tall and proud is how I stand
but in weakest moments I can’t help but seek approval from a man
Visit my website for more: http://www.whiskeyandpoetry.com
…is that I don’t really want to lose out on sleep
Or laying with you, pausing movies to crack jokes and sip beers
Or sacrifice any moment that brings your soft lips to my ears
I want the chatter of four year old volume
Can’t network or promote my writing without swallowing anxiety and valium
I want to help with homework
…make my relationship work
Bedtime early, sleeping late
the energy to kiss you and make pancakes
I want an impossible world of you, combined families and fulfilled dreams
I fear daily
I get to have none of those things
Without sacrificing too much of the other