Thick lip and beast

Tonight got to me... It was good even though he was bad to me. Poetry filled the souls in me that were alone for ages, ages younger than you. These couldn't be stone even if I were the rock. I like to think I'm closer to pac, or he to me whichever come later. I am leather. Plump like the brown thick lip beast they were afraid of back then and you'd be a fool to think not today. I didn't die yesterday, still can't speak for today because I'm not home yet. Haven't double dipped in your eyes because you never removed them for me in the first place. I... Am parts of the city they never warned you about. 

Royalty

The clinking of spoons on bowls. I feel the vibrations of a fancy history on my fingertips. 

I see black butler's dancing from joy that finally this job is a choice.

 I can taste victory in my throat and God slithers into the cracks of my teeth. I’ve ingested his words and let his conviction beat me into dance. 

I step to no tune.

 Make music with my body I don’t hear a damn thing when I taste caramel on the roof tops of my mouth. 

Love is rock and roll in the shower, do you ever go as wild as fireflies in mason jars on stormy nights? 

On those nights, I am a song and I vibrate your bed railings and rock you to sleep when lovers and sex can not make your legs shake like noodles. 

I feel the waves from fancy spoons again. 

This time they’re in my stomach. 

This time they’re making a mother out of me. 

This time God isn’t so sad. 

My feet planted on grass that grew from dirt. This love clings to me like meat and potatoes do to fancy China when it isn’t familiar. 

It is lightning fast. Moves quickest in the mountains of sand my ex-boyfriend’s head is buried in. 

Feel the wind brush your face like fox fur. We are the silver and gold spoons of Africa. 

The queens we call mother and all the times she’d not eaten to feed us, that is royalty shattering into glass and repaired with ice cold water and a bandage. 

Her eyes could always fill the voids and direct the paths of her babies. I find my feet vibrating in sync with mama's every blink.

I’d walk on fire mountains and chase thunderstorms just so I could rescue her thunder bolt and allow her to remain my Zeus. 

I feel the royalty smack my knee caps and push me in the right direction. I clung to the spoons and bowls whenever I was away from home because home is where royalty lived. 

Home is where my secretes live. 

Home is where my momma lives. 

I wrote this poem during my attendance at the 2015 Session 1 of the Iowa Young Writers' Studio. I'm forever grateful to have been chosen to attend such a highly ranked writing camp and the friendships I've made are priceless. All thanks to the University of Iowa. 

No room

There are some days I sit at poetries 

Table and wonder if I am still welcomed. Wasn't offered a hello or a microphone, I can speak all I want... 

That doesn't mean they're willing to hear me. I can 

Take as many dramatic pauses and breaths as I please, 

That doesn't mean poetry accepts me. Nor does it 

Tell me if it ever did, I probably was like 

That annoying friend we've all had but didn't dump because 

They were just too good to us. And poetry truthfully was like love. We were in love with it but decided to dump it when it stopped giving us what we needed, or better yet what we expected. I once sat near 

The 

Thrown of poetry when it probably should have been God I had placed 

There because after all, poems are words from men and women who've been jaded. Poetry no longer sparks emotion for me because everyone is just 

Too damn deep with 

The shit, not every poet is as sad as your, our, I mean my life is. But not once did I stop 

To 

Think about poetry not accepting me because I refused to soak in 

That sadness, 

That salt of 

The cheek like substance. I was receptive 

To 

That blocking, 

That blowing 

That low blow of writers block. Never 

Too deep with 

The shit I just spoke loud enough 

To where I wouldn't need a microphone. I demanded poetry 

To look me straight in 

The face and make room for me, even if all 

The elbows, egos and pencils were 

Taking up space. 

So I Thought

I thought you would have at least had the decency to pretend like you liked me after your fingers collided with my privates. It's no secret I fucked up! I shouldn't have been so quick to give husband privileges to someone who isn't even my boyfriend. I fucked up because I didn't know I was this fragile. Maybe I should learn myself before I tie my soul to the devil. You got me feeling like rhythm and blues. Not much lady likeness left in me so lady can't sing the blues. But hoes can feel it. Hoes can sense it. And hoes can make nightmares manifest when we thought only dreams could come to for-wishing... But, aren't nightmares dreams too? Aren't nightmares what break us out in sweats, cold sweats like H I I I V? Not even public Aids is this scary. Not even the devil, or so I thought. I looked him in the eye when I kissed you. One eye open seeing if the both of yours are shut. You even kissed me like you like me just a little bit. Even if it was a lie it was enough to calm the lions in me about the head you gave being just a scam. You ate like you loved it. A feast indeed it was but, your heart didn't select it. I was just something you dug out of your bag when you got hungry. You loved it! I'm convinced you did. Even smacked & licked your lips then your fingers. You sir are an actor. 

Dear person that sits next to me in physics class,

I looked at the side of your head today

 and realized that you are dumb.

Pretty you are but, video vixen you are not.

However, that's your dream.

 Fast money on that ass...

Your goal isn't to be respected but, objectified.

You aspire to be a

sex toy.

I knew you before your hips became the

 chips boys feasted on.

 You were ugly, saw no beauty in yourself.

Brainwashed and still dirty.

You want money but

don't want to work for it.

Little do you know

 you're a entrepreneur already.

Body no longer a temple but

a motel. Hoes tell the truth.

Speaking for what every girl

has felt at some point in her life but

was much too wealthy in

God to pursue it

before marriage.

 You are a screenshot

of your report.

The D's show you

Damn near

Dared to give a good

 god Damn but the

ejaculation

made your path toxic.

You failed me!

Told the secrete of the pretty girls,

you

eavesdropped on the good girls

and posed as

one.

High school

 beat the

truth smooth

out of

you

worse than an officer.

I
call
you
stupid




 girl.

Tip toe

We suck in our stomachs forcing them not to shake. We forget what it's like to be part woman and part hungry. Starving ourselves to fit into pretty. We are much too heavy to tip toe around a situation so, stand in this truth. Stand firmly in this skin for you will never get another one. He only appreciates your belly when it's face down, that's the style. He's oh so doggy! This is the difference between appreciation and pride. We never really know what it's like to make love or feel it... This extra lovin' on us blinds people from our hearts, our love has been camouflaged, well at least this is true for me. I was ready to present me to you, but you were much too fool to see the world I had crafted in my womb specifically for you. Etched your fist name in my finger tips, when I lotion my face you'd kiss me every morning. This was gold for a fool and my legs were the X that marked the spot. You weren't G enough to hit that. Smoother than baby hairs, I won't front you finger fucked the lye out of me, no wonder why I don't relax. I can't fake this here, I am all natural. Secure in my thickness, I'd rather sin and make battle between my own legs than to let you declare war on my cli to rious. Virginity ain't never been this bold, but it has been hungrier. Fat belly Bella faked feelings for a fuck, but I don't have either one of those to give. I can't tip toe around you, I am much too large. 

Make him watch

Last time I was in this back seat some things went down. Legs shaking, heart racing, and my panties came down. Gripped my legs, licked his lips, I stroked him on his shoulder. Hands played the heels between me, tried to keep myself from moaning. Wanting to move more than just his finger was the reason he deceived me. Played the guitar with the string of my thong, he always did like music. Sang mellow hellos to my lips, and hips. You felt all on my legs. Every inch you touched locked my soul in you. Ankles, locked in heart. Calfs, locked in mind. I can't get your print out my mind. Thighs locked in lust. I lusted after you, I'm lusting after you, bottom parts of you still throb in my palms. I still lay in your arms on dark nights, I pray by your side whenever strength doesn't find your eyes in the morning. It rains in the summertime for you... You missed a great thang, I handed me to you and that's where I went wrong. But I will never want to right this wrong cause you were right about everything. You use to be the stutter in my speech and the reason why I could not think about anything other than you. Couldn't think about how life would be without you. I couldn't imagine what the other side of me would look like without you beside it. You looked me square in the eye and told me you loved me with a mouth full of lies. Every fictional thing you said gave me butterflies. I once thought you saw me as beautiful. Because you have a Big Beautiful Woman for a mother you will find something beautiful about me, or maybe I can't be as beauty to you as she is, at least I thought I wouldn't be disrespected. Too fat for your sex, good thing that wasn't what I came looking for. I came to play for hearts and keeps but you came for child's play. I imagined us to be something like a game of chess. The queen protecting her king however, you are not a king... You are simply a peasant in the presence of me the queen, you will one day serve my king. Until then I hope you find our father who art in heaven hollowed be thy name thy kingdom come that will be done on earth as it is in heaven give us this day our daily fool. Behead him and make him suffer, make him watch as the men is supposed to love me fills his spot. Make him watch as the man who is supposed to love me takes on the characteristics of God. Make him Christlike and make my husband whole, but make him watch for I am happy and he will never be whole without me. Make me the single puzzle piece he will forever miss. Let him know that my heart use to beat simultaneously with his. Let him know that I used to would not inhale unless he breathed in my direction. Make him watch as the man who is supposed to love me makes me whole... Make him watch.