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"Nothing is for Nothing"- Jill Scott

isthatcheeks:

I had been turning tricks longer than I actually knew it.
Being whatever they wanted me to be whenever they wanted me to be it.
A freak, inside, outside, kitchen counters, laundry mats, two at a time,
hotels, motels, and backseats of leased cars, vans and jeeps.
Made myself like it ’cause they liked it and I liked that they liked it
and so I continued being the perfect image of a wet dream.
Nasty, wild, exotic, erotic.
Freak was what they wanted so freak was who I was.
And everybody was walking around talking about me.
Like teenage pregnancy wasn’t becoming synonymous with being black and woman.
Like America wasn’t suffocating our thoughts.
Like there was nothing to talk about what was doing or screwing.
And I thought the whole damn thing was ridiculous, which it was.
‘Cause I was content giving my men a little heaven
between their struggle to breathe and contemplation of suicide.
Wasn’t I good for the cause?
Closed mind, open legs, making niggas forget why they’re so damn angry.
Wasn’t I good?
Then the mood swung as well the tempo and I became an ideal.
They want her pretty and docile, caring and stupid
and there I was on your Mark, Seth, Joe and I was Suzy Homemaker on the hunt for love;
Cooking and cleaning, ironing and faithful and a freak cause that’s what they liked
and I liked being what they liked so what they liked was who I was.
A prostitute, selling my soul for emotional gain,
struggling not to be the third generation of lonely women in my family.
Struggling to gain but gaining nothing but confusion, frustration, illusion, ’cause there was no love,
just empty condom wrappers on the floors to be discarded like me.
A prize performer long before I actually knew it too,
’cause I was faking me out of the me I would become.
The me that I see now.
The me that holds onto herself with both hands and all feet.
The me who must have love and give it.
The me who brings more to the table than good looks and a wet hole.
The me that is confident, and intelligent and filled to the brim with respect for me.
And a freak ’cause that’s what I like and I like being what I like and what I like is all a part of what I am.
 

(via theartofcheeks-deactivated20130)

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I have written ALOT today.

It felt good to get some ideas down.

I never realized that my poems formed a little story

Until they were all in my face

I even have a title

The Musings of a Mistress

Let’s see if I can get something from my former side chick days

lol

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ohmyearth:

coatlaxopeuhmalintzin:

ohmyearth:

My first poetry video for the poem “Saints Have Their Past”, also known as the break up poem. 

admitting that this only meant something to me

Bringing it around for another spin; in a way, this poem made me.

SNAP SNAP!!

(via transientsoulscribbles)

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A Fool’s Freewrite

I want to be the one. I want to mean something to someone. I want them to look at me and see their future in m eyes. I want to be the game-changer.

I want to be someone’s reason to believe in love again. And not just any kind of love but that over the moon, past the stars into another galaxy kind of love.

I want us to be something like perfect. I want to ease someone’s fear and put all doubt’s to rest. I want somebody to be so sure of my love that they bet their last dollar on it.

Even when times get rough they never even flinch. They will always believe I am amazing even when I am anything but. My flaws will never be thrown in my face because they rather work with me than to leave my side.

I want them to memorize the grooves in my back and the mole on the upper inner part of my thigh and the way i bat my eyes when I am trying to be flirty. I want them to see the beauty in my details.

I want them to watch junk tv with me and get into ridiculous sometimes heated debates on random current issues that end with “you still love me though.” I want someone to say gushy things about me on social networks and not really care what anyone has to say when it came to us because he would know he has a good thing.

I want the fear of losing me to be something they couldn’t fathom. And they would do everything in their power to make me happy because my smile is their most important achievement of the day.

I want to make three year plans with us in mind. I want them to surprise me and romance me and make me feel special. I want to feel like I am the only woman in the world worth going to extra mile for. I need someone willing to go the extra mile for me and love me without hesitation.

I want to be the one, that one, the only one. Who has their trust, attention, affection, sweetness, mind, body.. just everything. I want someone to give me everything. Every secret, scar, happiness, joy, pain, i want it all.

I want everything from you

-signed a 22 year old terror

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The Fear of Love

For some reason I can’t stop thinking about you

At night I let my mind drift to dreams of your kiss

What I would do to feel your touch again

I ask myself one million questions 

The main one being “What if?”

What if we worked?

What if we never knew 

What heartache felt like

What if we never knew what it felt like

To be in a room full of people

And be completely alone

What if we never had an ex-lover

Spew lies and deceit 

And we just took it

What if walls were never built 

And defense mechanisms weren’t needed

Because we were naive enough to believe

That no one will actually hurt us

What if we never knew about crying ourselves to sleep

Or waking up with pains in our chest because

We no longer received good-morning texts 

What if we knew what it takes to love someone

What if we still had faith in love

That love really was all that we need

Imagine if we had no issues, no hang-ups

No hesistations when it came to relationships

Because we would only know what feels good and right

And perfect

What if our minds were fucking quiet for once

And insecurities played no role in the moves we made 

Or the games we played

What if we shared something sacred and holy, divined by the Gods

And we messed it up because of our human ways

What if we never get a chance to be pure again?

What if the butterflies never died and first times lasted forever

And tears of joy were are only concern

Would we still reach for the stars because past failures

Didn’t leave scars?

I ask myself what if love was easy

That is was something that you just figure out at a certain age

And everyone was on the same page

And communication, trust, and honesty weren’t things that needed to be talked about

But things people just did

What if romance wasn’t so hopeless

And dropped a couple of those proverbial bags

Will we ever learn to love love?

What if we just got it right?

What would we be like if we didn’t fear love?

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A Night with Tarzan

Late nights in a foreign country

Language barriers

Customs differentiate

But one thing is universal

We dancing this pain away

We all gathered here to take our mind off of something

Because we don’t have to face them

Until the first daybreak

So take my hand

And tell me in broken English

Mixed with French

How pretty I am

How my body is perfect

And whisper that

Foreign game in my ear

I may not know a word you saying

But the meaning is pretty clear

Let our bodies intertwine

Let them give praise

To our ancestors

Sculpting perfect bodies

Forged by our Gods

The ones made in our image

Ebony , Earth, Mahogny

You, Us

Claiming our royalty

A coronation for the African king and queen

Tips touch, rubs are rubbed

And we are swaying

The drum beats mixed

With those of my heart

But the shit feels good

And for that moment

I wished I never had to leave

Our foreign exchange

Wrapped up in your arms

The makoussa beat takes us on a ride

And as the night comes to an end

I see we both left whatever it was

There on the dance floor

Then I stop and

Wonder 

Will ever see him again?

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I feel like we have this once in a lifetime kind of love

sheishurr:

that kind of love that stories are written about 

the kind of love that is solid as bey and jay

even in our worst days i am totally helplessly endlessly in love with you

that kind of love that even when i am mad at you and itching to run away

i stay

i stay because despite my immediate feelings the fear of not having you hurts more than any transgression we may face

i feel like if i don’t pursue this to the end i am going to be lacking something in my life.

am i crazy?

I just might be.. but i would have to be committed to an institution if i didn’t take my chance with you. 

reblogging.. because it is relevant as hell right now.

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Lyrically Yours

sheishurr:

It is Saturday night.  I am alone at the local poetry spot, it’s open mic night and drinks are free before 11. I am babysitting a vodka and orange juice because I know I have to drive home. I just want to enjoy some new artist and  get inspired.  As the MC approaches the mic I sit up and get ready to hear some dope lines and new perspectives. The first performer comes on and does an ill piece on the Haitian Revolution, I was feeling it. The next performer and the next performer, one after the other spitting lines about life and rhymes about strife and struggle, peace and divinity. I was being intellectually fed but still not floored by any particular performance.  Then the MC came back to the stage to introduce the last artist, “ A talented brother straight from the dirty south, intellectual gentleman with style and grace give it up for ..” , 

I watched as the finest man I have ever seen walked across the stage. Skin the tone of merbau with reddish earth tones, dark eyes made of the finest onyx, that one can get lost in forever. He was dressed so dapperly,crisp pair of slacks, stark white button up, smooth sports jacket with and argyle pocket handkerchief. Looked  like he was a model for GQ.

I crossed my legs when I saw him, because I felt myself becoming aroused. I had to remind myself to get it together.  He approached the stage meekly and  stood  before the mic timidly, he took a deep breath and said “ I’m kinda nervous ya’ll so bare with me.”   A female from the audience shouted  “Take your time cutie!”, A hot flash of anger came over me, but then I realized how absurd I was being. “ Get it together”  I whispered to myself.  He breathed in and smiled.  “ Lyrically yours”, he began.  It was a love poem, my weakness, I love love poems. 

He began to describe how he uses his words to please his woman. How he verbally penetrates her and orally transcribes love notes in between her thighs. How he could write a 500 page anthology on the ways he loves her and still need 500 more to complete the ways he needs her.  His voice carried over the entire room, people were silenced by his way with words, snap snapping at every line and blown away by his metaphors and rhymes. There was no doubt that this man was talented.  At the end of his piece the room roared with applause but for some reason, as he bowed humbly, our eyes met.  It was not an accidental glance either, they locked, but I looked away because I couldn’t take the intensity, that and the fact my panties were thoroughly soaked. 

I gathered my things and proceeded to head to my car, I cursed at myself for parking so far away and it was dark at this point. I finally get to my car and fumble in my purse for my keys, when I hear a voice, I stiffen up out of fear, “ A beautiful woman like yourself should not be out here alone.”  The voice belongs to the last performer, I ease up but I am still uncomfortable how close he is to me. “ I am fine”, I retorted  coolly.   “ Oh that I know”, he said.   I chuckled at his corniness because it made his sexiness less intimidating.  I turned around to face him, damn, I am getting wet again. We locked eyes again;  again I look away he comes closer and  stands before me. He ask “ Do you live close by, are you okay to drive?” I didn’t notice that I stumbled a bit when I turned around, I didn’t care to mention  that it was his fine ass and not the drinks responsible for my clumsiness. “ I am okay”, I said with an attitude, I hated how he was stealing my cool.  But he just kept staring at me, I wanted to look anywhere but there, he got closer to me, I began to inhale his cologne, the question of what he tastes like ran across my mind. “ What did you think of the performance?”  He asked smoothly.   I fumbled  with my words but finally said “It was good.”  Knowing it was so much more than that but he was already playing it too cool for my liking, I wanted to see some of his nerves too. 

He stepped in closer almost an inch from my face, I cursed myself for glancing down at his lips, pink and soft, I know they taste just like honey.  “Just good?” he says.  I don’t respond because if I move an inch I know I am going to unleash the puddle forming underneath my skirt.  I inch away from him but he follows me, I try to move again, but this time he grips my arm, I wince,  but he quickly softens his grip but doesn’t let go.  I look at him with a bewilderment, but  grips my face and kisses me. I wanted to resist but that honey comment I made earlier.. yeah I was right.  I let him take me all in, tonguing me down, pulling, biting nibbling on my lips, synching into a perfect pattern that fits both of our mouths together like a jigsaw puzzle. He has me up against my car door, I look around to see if any other cars are in the lot, but he pulls my face back towards his, forcing me to focus on him, forcing me to match his stare, to feel the intensity. He pulls me closer to him and gentle puts his hands on my lower back. With his other hand he lifts up my skirt and pulls my panties to the side, he places two fingers inside my wetness, but he keeps his gaze on me. He goes in and out slowly then takes his fingers out, he licks both of them clean, with a moan. He kisses me roughly then disappears under my skirt,  pulling my panties down and scrunching my skirt up he devours me. I feel his tongue lapping up my juices, reaching further and further into my pleasure spot. Sucking on my clit, I feel his lips swirl all over my pussy, putting both lips together and slurping them up. I no longer gave a damn if there were people in the parking lot or not, I was borderline screaming. He grips my thighs causing me to bend my knees to get deeper in my pussy, his face is all in it. I am about to cum, I try to pull away before I let off, but he pulls me back down and savors every single drop of me. He reemerges to my face and I lick every essence of me off of him then I savor it by kissing him like it is the last thing I wanted to do before I die. 

I smile because I have been to cloud nine and back “So how about that performance? Was that just good too?” He tells me, see him licking his lips. I walk to the front of the car, that lot is empty and offers a little more privacy. I tell him to come here, he grins and walks slowly towards me, I let him lean on the hood of the car. I look at him intently in the eyes, I knew right then and there this man was going to get everything. I squat and unzip his pants exposing his dick. Just like I thought, thick chocolate dick. I place it in my mouth, my tongue outstretched to make sure I can take all of him.  I slowly let him feel the back of my throat forcing myself to relax my throat and invite him to the warmest center of my mouth. I suck his dick hard and let it pop out of my mouth. I look at him in totally amazement because even in this dark corner, he fineness shines through it. I stroke his dick gently and place it back into my mouth this time I shove it, making me gag on his dick, I take it out and spit on it getting it nice and wet. I keep stroking him he begins to moan, I lick up and down his shaft, I feel him quiver, I give him one last deep throating the I stand up and bend over in front of him, “ if you’re going to come, come inside this” I lift up my skirt, exposing my drenched pussy. Without hesitation he is inside of me.  Stroking my pussy  rapidly, I feel every inch of him as I clench my walls around his dick. Those kegels sure come in handy.  He continues to pound me right there on the hood of my car until we both cum in unison.  I quickly part from him, feeling suddenly ashamed of what I have done. I gather my things and move to my car door, he stops me and says “ Can I get your number?” . I wave him a smile and get into my car and pull off.

I get home, ready to wash my transgressions away when I hear the doorbell ring. It is the last performer. I catch a wicked grin as he looks me in my eyes, we embrace each other and I whisper to him “ Welcome home, you did amazing baby, I cant wait for your next show.” Then I led him to the bedroom to be lyrically his all over again. 

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I feel like we have this once in a lifetime kind of love

that kind of love that stories are written about 

the kind of love that is solid as bey and jay

even in our worst days i am totally helplessly endlessly in love with you

that kind of love that even when i am mad at you and itching to run away

i stay

i stay because despite my immediate feelings the fear of not having you hurts more than any transgression we may face

i feel like if i don’t pursue this to the end i am going to be lacking something in my life.

am i crazy?

I just might be.. but i would have to be committed to an institution if i didn’t take my chance with you. 

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Lyrically Yours

It is Saturday night.  I am alone at the local poetry spot, it’s open mic night and drinks are free before 11. I am babysitting a vodka and orange juice because I know I have to drive home. I just want to enjoy some new artist and  get inspired.  As the MC approaches the mic I sit up and get ready to hear some dope lines and new perspectives. The first performer comes on and does an ill piece on the Haitian Revolution, I was feeling it. The next performer and the next performer, one after the other spitting lines about life and rhymes about strife and struggle, peace and divinity. I was being intellectually fed but still not floored by any particular performance.  Then the MC came back to the stage to introduce the last artist, “ A talented brother straight from the dirty south, intellectual gentleman with style and grace give it up for ..” , 

I watched as the finest man I have ever seen walked across the stage. Skin the tone of merbau with reddish earth tones, dark eyes made of the finest onyx, that one can get lost in forever. He was dressed so dapperly,crisp pair of slacks, stark white button up, smooth sports jacket with and argyle pocket handkerchief. Looked  like he was a model for GQ.

I crossed my legs when I saw him, because I felt myself becoming aroused. I had to remind myself to get it together.  He approached the stage meekly and  stood  before the mic timidly, he took a deep breath and said “ I’m kinda nervous ya’ll so bare with me.”   A female from the audience shouted  “Take your time cutie!”, A hot flash of anger came over me, but then I realized how absurd I was being. “ Get it together”  I whispered to myself.  He breathed in and smiled.  “ Lyrically yours”, he began.  It was a love poem, my weakness, I love love poems. 

He began to describe how he uses his words to please his woman. How he verbally penetrates her and orally transcribes love notes in between her thighs. How he could write a 500 page anthology on the ways he loves her and still need 500 more to complete the ways he needs her.  His voice carried over the entire room, people were silenced by his way with words, snap snapping at every line and blown away by his metaphors and rhymes. There was no doubt that this man was talented.  At the end of his piece the room roared with applause but for some reason, as he bowed humbly, our eyes met.  It was not an accidental glance either, they locked, but I looked away because I couldn’t take the intensity, that and the fact my panties were thoroughly soaked. 

I gathered my things and proceeded to head to my car, I cursed at myself for parking so far away and it was dark at this point. I finally get to my car and fumble in my purse for my keys, when I hear a voice, I stiffen up out of fear, “ A beautiful woman like yourself should not be out here alone.”  The voice belongs to the last performer, I ease up but I am still uncomfortable how close he is to me. “ I am fine”, I retorted  coolly.   “ Oh that I know”, he said.   I chuckled at his corniness because it made his sexiness less intimidating.  I turned around to face him, damn, I am getting wet again. We locked eyes again;  again I look away he comes closer and  stands before me. He ask “ Do you live close by, are you okay to drive?” I didn’t notice that I stumbled a bit when I turned around, I didn’t care to mention  that it was his fine ass and not the drinks responsible for my clumsiness. “ I am okay”, I said with an attitude, I hated how he was stealing my cool.  But he just kept staring at me, I wanted to look anywhere but there, he got closer to me, I began to inhale his cologne, the question of what he tastes like ran across my mind. “ What did you think of the performance?”  He asked smoothly.   I fumbled  with my words but finally said “It was good.”  Knowing it was so much more than that but he was already playing it too cool for my liking, I wanted to see some of his nerves too. 

He stepped in closer almost an inch from my face, I cursed myself for glancing down at his lips, pink and soft, I know they taste just like honey.  “Just good?” he says.  I don’t respond because if I move an inch I know I am going to unleash the puddle forming underneath my skirt.  I inch away from him but he follows me, I try to move again, but this time he grips my arm, I wince,  but he quickly softens his grip but doesn’t let go.  I look at him with a bewilderment, but  grips my face and kisses me. I wanted to resist but that honey comment I made earlier.. yeah I was right.  I let him take me all in, tonguing me down, pulling, biting nibbling on my lips, synching into a perfect pattern that fits both of our mouths together like a jigsaw puzzle. He has me up against my car door, I look around to see if any other cars are in the lot, but he pulls my face back towards his, forcing me to focus on him, forcing me to match his stare, to feel the intensity. He pulls me closer to him and gentle puts his hands on my lower back. With his other hand he lifts up my skirt and pulls my panties to the side, he places two fingers inside my wetness, but he keeps his gaze on me. He goes in and out slowly then takes his fingers out, he licks both of them clean, with a moan. He kisses me roughly then disappears under my skirt,  pulling my panties down and scrunching my skirt up he devours me. I feel his tongue lapping up my juices, reaching further and further into my pleasure spot. Sucking on my clit, I feel his lips swirl all over my pussy, putting both lips together and slurping them up. I no longer gave a damn if there were people in the parking lot or not, I was borderline screaming. He grips my thighs causing me to bend my knees to get deeper in my pussy, his face is all in it. I am about to cum, I try to pull away before I let off, but he pulls me back down and savors every single drop of me. He reemerges to my face and I lick every essence of me off of him then I savor it by kissing him like it is the last thing I wanted to do before I die. 

I smile because I have been to cloud nine and back “So how about that performance? Was that just good too?” He tells me, see him licking his lips. I walk to the front of the car, that lot is empty and offers a little more privacy. I tell him to come here, he grins and walks slowly towards me, I let him lean on the hood of the car. I look at him intently in the eyes, I knew right then and there this man was going to get everything. I squat and unzip his pants exposing his dick. Just like I thought, thick chocolate dick. I place it in my mouth, my tongue outstretched to make sure I can take all of him.  I slowly let him feel the back of my throat forcing myself to relax my throat and invite him to the warmest center of my mouth. I suck his dick hard and let it pop out of my mouth. I look at him in totally amazement because even in this dark corner, he fineness shines through it. I stroke his dick gently and place it back into my mouth this time I shove it, making me gag on his dick, I take it out and spit on it getting it nice and wet. I keep stroking him he begins to moan, I lick up and down his shaft, I feel him quiver, I give him one last deep throating the I stand up and bend over in front of him, “ if you’re going to come, come inside this” I lift up my skirt, exposing my drenched pussy. Without hesitation he is inside of me.  Stroking my pussy  rapidly, I feel every inch of him as I clench my walls around his dick. Those kegels sure come in handy.  He continues to pound me right there on the hood of my car until we both cum in unison.  I quickly part from him, feeling suddenly ashamed of what I have done. I gather my things and move to my car door, he stops me and says “ Can I get your number?” . I wave him a smile and get into my car and pull off.

I get home, ready to wash my transgressions away when I hear the doorbell ring. It is the last performer. I catch a wicked grin as he looks me in my eyes, we embrace each other and I whisper to him “ Welcome home, you did amazing baby, I cant wait for your next show.” Then I led him to the bedroom to be lyrically his all over again. 

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I am cruelly head over heels, madly infatuated and intoxicatingly in love with every single part of you. and everything i do not know i SWEAR i will learn to love too.

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The Lady in Green’s Plea

I don’t want you to walk away with my stuff

That’s the fear I have, opening up

Like Tea Cakes, give it all away

Just to get bit at the end of the day

Don’t want you walking away with my stuff

I want to say this is mine

Not yours

Go get your own

But my heartbeat is louder

Than my brain cells

As they yell to protect

The wall I have built

Yet it loses a brick everytime

I hear your voice

Shit. 

I don’t want you to walk away with my stuff

My rhythm

My poise

My peace

My joy

Don’t walk away with my stuff

Who is the woman

You would leave me to be?

A simple bitter

Bitch

With a bad attitude

Or

A resentment laden maiden

So desperate to fill

"Wifey" shoes

I refuse to be her again

Don’t walk away with my stuff

My details

My memories

My creativity

Abundant words

My swerve

The dips in my curves

They are mine

To give freely

If I chose you

What does that mean?

Do I lose me?

Don’t walk away with my stuff

I am already under attack

From my black identity

To my feminity

A socially constructed image

Of what black womanhood

Should be

Struggling to fit

These frames

If I give you this

The only thing I have left is……..

Just don’t walk away with my stuff

As I am just standing here open

I have no clue why

The scars haven’t even healed 

From the last battle lost

Wounds still open catching dust

Infectious with lust 

Yet the sting 

Of the burns feel so good

Don’t walk away with my stuff

Almost got it

And he don’t even know it

Don’t you already see my GREATNESS?

Damn it.

Don’t walk away with my stuff

Matter fact

Why should I give you my stuff?

Despite it slipping out of my hands

Struggling for a firm grasp

I get angry at the fact

There are no answers for my questions

Even the simpliest one of 

Why?

Why am I exposed 

And you fully clothed

Like a sheep

But no traces of wolf

yet. 

Don’t walk away with my stuff

My walk

My language

My laugh

My scent

My dreams

My ambitions

My passions

My family

My heart

My me

My entirety 

HOW DO I GIVE YOU ALL OF MY STUFF?

Leave my package alone,  if you just want to unwrap me

Just to see what’s inside

And you are not prepared to take care

Of it’s contents then

I beg

Please return to sender

Don’t walk away with my stuff.

My stuff cannot be duplicated 

traded

Or made complacent 

Don’t use it to fill some void

Of a good guy role

Just to shout

" HEY I FIXED HER!"

There is nothing broken about my stuff

It is sacred

The recipient should be grateful

That I even take time to present a lovely gift

I want to be open on purpose

Not to hear sorry 

Or have to shell out forgiveness

Because at the end of the day

I would have known you never meant it. 

I want to fall on purpose

Not stumble

And lose my ground 

Because you stole 

My stage from under me

Just Don’t walk away with my stuff. 

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I am sure you have seen this before…

If not.. press play please. 

Chills… just chills

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Janette..itkz- “I will wait for You”

this is the full poem where the “first name luke last name warm” line came from.

i have watched this video a dozen times today

till every line hit me.