gimme that...

give ME the dick,
i'll show you what to do what that shit...
nah,
i ain't gonna just "hit" that...
i'm not just gonna "mack" that...
i'm not just gonna TALK about that...
it's gonna be real baby
if i had your dick...
i wouldn't just wave my wand
i'd consider the power in my sword
before sheathing it within a woman's folds
i'd give her the truth...
my love would BE the truth
i wouldn't have to lie to kick it
or play to stick it...
my ego wouldn't get hard off
her tears
and her pleas
it would give me dis~ease
to see my actions bring about
emotional torrential pours
and feeling like the pimp to her love's whore...
no, sir...
i wouldn't misuse my dick
to piss on a "ms. right now"
and then turn to become
the very saltiness,
i speak her to be
when the love i finally let in
scorched me with the rays of my own sun
the love i beamed down
but got let down
left to prune and shrivel
on love's vine...
and left me needing a place to hide
my shrunken pride...
no, not me...
if i had your dick,
i wouldn't relish in the control
and the knowing that my godly nod
will bring a woman to her knees
and that i could slip and slide
like it was made for me
and then dip and dodge
when it's convenient to leave...
as i walk away
and she curls up in heaves...
hell no, man...
gimme...that...dick!!!
be a man...
be MY man...
the man...men are supposed to raise
but women end up rearing
when he's almost too old for steering...
be the family man
whether there are kids or not
i'm on top of EVERYTHING we got!
i'd step up like a father should...
love mama like only daddy could...
be that one with the check waving like
"pay the bills, boo"
i got you
the little ones, too...
MAN...
where are the MEN...
why can i count the good ones on one hand...
and a closed palm,
give or take 2 fingers for peace?
why?
why are there no soldiers...
who war for love
suited in the arms of her
and the shield of her...
why are there no men
willing to fight for the way to love
the rights to her left hand?
DAMN!!!!
i'll take ya dick...
show you how to work this...
matter of fact,
gimme your balls, too
so i can stand up
adjust
and thrust my BACK into it...
to HELL with them easy tricks
*flick*
never scared to put in work
with the one who isn't gonna just
roll over
play dead
do "whatever i like"
because after i've gotten what i wanted
truth be told...
what else is there to learn?
what else is there to earn?
how can i grow,
when i'm given the keys
and there's only one door to open...
how can i swing proudly
with life between my thighs
and be afraid to hold my head high
in the depth of love?
speak up, bro!
let that sista know!
or maybe your sac swings TOO low?
yea,
give ME the dick...
and watch what i do with it.

no words

I wrote this today in an email to one of my SiStars who seemed to be having a hard time. I had JUST reported to another friend how I'd been virtually uninspired for over 3mos...and needed to get back on. For this poem to unfold so spontaneously and bring understanding to someone in emotional need...was just perfection.




silence from you lover, 
is like obscenities yelled evilly at my ear
the harsh winds
of your bated breath
from stifled words
cause blemish
to my sensibilities
resistance,
to extend your soul out to me
is like a short hit to my heart
i seize in shock
and fall from hurt feelings
fall from the foundation
no longer holding me up
if you spoke
thunk of the simplest insult
even an exhausted sigh,
i might
not feel like...
our love has died
i might
not feel like
this is bye
if your mouth
parted,
with space for words to wander
over the fullness of your lips
that i love to kiss
and touch the tip
of your tongue
that i long to suck
that it just might not suck
that you're silenced...
oh, love...
how i wish you'd
cuss me
fuss me
touch me with
disgust for me
rather than cringe
and recoil
from the sight of me
the idea
that maybe,
you love me more
than this silence you've
pledged yourself to...
my ears are
ringing
with the shit i'd
rather
you say
than the closing of your heart
or the shortness of your compassion
or the limited concern for my cry...
i,
feel like,
why?
what have i done,
SO badly...
what crime have i
committed
other than kneeling in submission
to the love that beckons praising
with my adoration
adulation
and hips' gyrations...
what have i done
other than
nod yes
when my ego and pride
yelled no
and lay bare
when my "self"
warned me to don layers
for my preservation
is that my crime?
or is my crime...
milking the man in you
that would rather roam
and giving you thoughts
of one home
procuring for you
asylum from the things
that cause you to mask your
true heart
it's desires
the fears
and failures...
[sigh]
love...
your silence
has brought me to
this soliloquy of
frustrated and flurried
thoughts
all because
rather than speak your
pain
you inflict silence onto
mine...
and it hurts.

my place

every man wants a strong woman

a do-right,

multi-tasking,

super woman...

he wants the strong backbone

for his household's constitution...

the strong back,

for his late night

pipe-laying
that sweet in the night
restitution..

the strong emotions

to handle his tempermental mood

who can swing back and forth

like an empty swing

in a scenic neighborhood

he wants her,

strong-minded

to tackle tasks

at whiplash speed

and on demand needs

he wants her,

strong like stone tears

working like deliberate gears
longevity like years on years...
wearing many hats

mommy this

baby that

mrs...do it now...

he wants her strong,

like harriet tubman

sojourner truth

angela davis

assata shakur

and sophia before ms. millie...

but wants her,

like a quiet force...

betty shabazz

coretta scott-king...the dream weaver's kween...

celie in the kitchen

shug in the bed

and nikki giovanni in his head...

and STILL wants

buffy the body...

halle the sweetest berry

rich like oprah...

because...well,

God FORBID, he gotta provide...

so he's gotta have a ride or die

who got her own...

he wants her strong enough

to take this dragging by her hair

into his mannish lair,

but, still be modern when he feels like...

chillin...

so, my question is MAN...

when can "I" be weak?

be indecisive,

selfish,

afraid to change...

commit...

submit to love's hit...

why can't "I" be the damsel in distress

and YOU wear the letter on your chest...

why can't "I" be the one to cry,

and complain about the world...

why can't "I" walk away from the kids

and start a new life at a whim...

rebuild my fable

with the next guy and pretend

that it was

all

YOUR

fault...

why can't "I" just lie still

in your arms

feeling wrapped up

and safe?

why?

tell me...

because...truthfully,

all i want

is to be a woman...

not strong,
not independent,
not almighty,

not super...

just a woman...

...for once,
can I have...MY place?