who tries to capture the wind?
it comes and it goes as it pleases.
rather
lean in to its touch,
fall in to its kiss,
whether it be gentle or passionate.
cherish the moment(s),
l i v e i n t h e m
f e e l i n t h e m
l o v e i n t h e m
if only for a second,
for they are as fleeting
as the wind itself.
I stunt on these niggas
intellectual
never front for no figures
sapiosexual
who loves a good figure
light brown skin
match my dark brown liquor
I lick her; I love her. I kiss her;
I light my best with her
And when she’s high enough
She starts to paint her perfect picture
Just so happens that
I’m in it
With her
in her
She drops some jewels in my ear
as we journey to her center.
Where it’s
cooler than your hottest summer
warmer than your coldest winter
Paradise is quite nice to be honest nigga
Foreign flicks
exotic spliffs
main characters of brown-er tint
plot twists and her hips.
Poems from passion-nets
She cast from her lips
to my neck to my chest
to my fingertips
where my pen is
writing this along her walls
contrary to the song
it will never fall
my my my
Kemetic queen
my nubian baby doll
I saw you in a dream
And I decided I would dream hard…
if it’s a million miles to your heart,
I’d be sure to wear good shoes
And carry lots of water
Sipping on memories of you.
Did I ever cross your mind?
Make me understand
Bc all I have is time
Put me in your plans
You said I always cross the line
Baby, I’m a man
I heard you tried them other niggas
they can’t love like I can
You say I’m always on the run
I told you come with
And we could run to the sun
Be on our n.e.r.d. shit
But you were stuck in your cool
That absurd shit
And it was worthless
Cuz them cool people never scratched your surface
‘But we were urban intellects
Musing on music, books, and the internet
And it was heaven whenever we entered sex
Because we never left, unless
Breakfast came to interject.
Remember those good times?
I found sex personified as a person
I’ve met plenty of people
But none as pure with such potential
I’ve pushed past pulchritude
B/c I preyed on her mental
B/c I prayed for her mental
Where I found peace and pleasure
Rather than the pangs that pierced
me in the past
I pushed powerful pros to paper
to make it last
I pushed powerful pros to paper
to make her crash
to make her crash
to make her crash
Lyrical lust leaves lonely ones satisfied
As my verbs thrust and nouns caress her thighs
Similes kissing the neck of her
I found her spot. I got her locked, verbally sexing her.
My coital conjunctions corrupt her functions
Because I predicated my poetry to play on her potential.
Just think, with a pencil I can provide for her mental
A sensual place to get in to.
And arouse her intellect with my erotic dialect,
This will be a night we’ll never forget.
As I undress her stanza by stanza,
This here is lyrical lust,
Next time I’ll romance her.
Living to exist or living to make an impact? Living in a lie or was she living in the exact?
She always made time for her crazy fuckin ex that
Never really cared he was always just there
@the write right times when
Her confidence was spent
And she was vulnerable to the world
And this nigga cashed in
Like selling her dreams for ninety nine cent
and I said that her confidence was spent
But She wondered where it went
Well, We knew it all along
Us nerds that observe the “cool people’s” goings on
We heard then saw all of him doing wrong
And then cursed @ her for her going along
Cuz she never stopped to think
“He’s never here when I need him.
And it seems I always need him.
But I dont really need him,
cuz without him I have freedom.
He’s restricting and demanding.
And in this pool of love
I am the only one standing.
And he comes up for air just to say my name, ‘Brandy?’
So he can keep me on the hook
Stole my heart up his sleeve
But I am feeling like the crook.
Like if I up and just leave
then his feelings would be shook.
So much time we put in
I resided in his skin
He said he lived for my kiss…”
And that is where she missed.
Tragic love opera
With lumps in our throat we quote this soap opera
She was lost in his cool
And we were always on the outside
Wanting to feel it too
All the hurt and the pain
just to feel the cool…
You’re always yearning for what doesn’t really shine, but has a dull glow. You are always more lack than lust. But you loved to lust the lack there of, and it never was the overall entity. Rather, it was the moments in between here and the next smile. Her your smile never really shines; it glows below eyes that are sharp as knives Billy Mays sold. And they blinked on my soul…
