Friday, January 25, 2008

Temporary Insanity

Finances are leaning toward insufficiency
Bills are creeping
Mind is steaming
Breathe girl just breathe....

Gotta let it go...

I know why we're in trouble...

In politics, the arts, music. Dig it...

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

The Call

And there I stood.
Your words blew threw me like the wind through the broadside of an old barn.
You reached into my chest, pulled out my heart, dropped it on the ground and stepped on it on your way out our door.
And I
Was poured out
Like water on to sand.

He was your new thing, had a Bavarian machine and a few diamond rings.
You told me how much bigger and better he was than me and how he
fulfilled you.
Our happy home was boring and you were too young to be tied down to one tired old dude.
So you were off to see the wizard. Get your kicks on Route 66.

Your exit opened the door to hell.
Flames of pain licked and taunted me with the barbs of your laughter and your words.
My fleshed burned from inside out as a result of the nuclear wasteland you left inside of me.
Vaporizing tears as they crept out of ducts,
Denying me the smallest, most basic release.

Sleep no longer claimed it knew me, abandoning me as if I had betrayed its deepest secret.
Appetite joined the exodus, depositing lost pounds in the toilet love had become.
Agony moved in and made itself comfortable, bringing friends and relatives of heartache, despair,
Sorrows and no-cares.
And something within me, deep within me, bent, broke and ever so slowly, slowly,

So there I existed rather than lived, decomposing into putrefaction,
Shunned by the world.
Didn't notice.
Didn't care.
George Romero my father,
The walking dead.

But in the ash and ruin of Mt. St. Helen
A blade of grass eventually, defiantly, struggles to the surface
and breathes.
The once thought lost main frame
And I,
Because there is something that heals all wounds.
And it is on my side.

The rain falls,
Washing me,
Cleansing me,
Refreshing me,
Renewing me,
And I,

As life slowly grows in me.

It's not my time to die
I realize
And start to live the life given to me,
Surviving the holocaust given to me,
Erasing the red ink deficit of pain,
Investing and saving and growing in me to be free,
Getting back to way past zero.

Having made it through, the burning Saharan sands,
Having had death lick me,
To unbelievably find something tastier elsewhere.
Miracled out of emotional paraplegia,
I rise.
I walk
To the insistent phone
Hear your choked voice
From the other side of midnight
Wanting to come home

He left you,
For a new thing
With a Bavarian machine
And a few diamond rings...

Hosea 2

©SojournerG 2008 All rights reserved

Tuesday, January 22, 2008


It's winter now, and i vaguely remember
Soft ties, luscious lies...falling timber
Your eyes meet mine, your mind caresses
all that i am and know
can't wait for snow...but oh

It's winter now, just last September, or was it November
You held me, loved me, stroked me insane
We were wishing for rain, but instead we got a rainbow
A spectrum of colors, blended perfectly to be....what we want it to be

It's winter now, just past December...and i can't forget you
i still remember, your touch, your taste, your smile
Makes me want to sit and rock a while on this chair, this porch, this swing
that is you...
you bring
me back...even's winter

It's winter now, way past January...well into February
but it doesn't matter cuz the feeling remains
you are still the same...a stain
on my heart
while we drift apart

It's winter now...
And I am cold.

Misplaced Pride

Loose lips fly with cuss words
Going high up in the air
No longer stare
In disbelief at the sound of a ghetto kids negative
speak Lord,
speak to me
about what it’s like
They don’t act like they want to live good
Can you believe what you see after all these years?

Cats hanging on the corner till deep in the night
Time to go to work after hearing beats and laughter because
Niggas only do what they see as right

Proud to be a nigga
Don’t want to do no betta
Unless that means getting some rims, smoking something mild and
Perpetrating the fraud of a life blown up phat’r
Can you tell me what’s happening to the black
People need to rise up and do something about this shit.

Male niggas lust after hood rats
Whose babies done infiltrated good black folk’s spot
These kids playing on other folks grass
Is not like the dirt pad in front of their crib

Tell me who’s to blame
For all the trash on the block
That apparently no one dropped
Can’t count on niggas to stop and pick up
The fight
Too busy thinking about self to care

“fuck you looking at, nigga”

Heads shake to keep from fighting
This negativity with hands
On the trigger
Maybe if we was bigger balled

Psychological disease called Racial Self Hatred
Running deep
Through the veins of the people
Who are ashamed to
See nigga’s coming
they running from the images of
too many black folks
proud to be niggas.

Monday, January 21, 2008

flirting with...

Beginning now, wink of her eyes, glances and short stares,
Quick touches, accidental bumps, honey better beware,
If she begins touching here, it will end with me touching there,
Me sucking there, and fucking up her permed up hair,

Backwards now, subtle hints, sexual on phone calls,
Dropping words in sexy tones, followed by a slow pause,
Talking bout lingerie, joking about wearing no draws,
Bout getting tattoos on her breast of roses, and cats claws,

Forward now, plays like a little girl, bumps me with her ass,
Tells her girls, 'tell him he's cute', giggling, acting fast,
What was that, touch on my hand, smile and little laugh,
Talking in circles, about her likes, from her sexual past,

Ending now, she's on the phone, saying words of temptation,
How she's so hot, and she's so horny, hinting masturbation,
Now, I am hot, and bother now, erotic hard sensation,
She hangs up the phone, I am ready to bone.....but...

It is only flirtation...

beginning now, blinking slowly with his eyes, his stance very aware
thick brushes against skin, intentional nudges, his ambitions are lain bare
I peep the bulge, itching to indulge in imbibing him right there
and transcribe my intentions in multi-dimensions upon his form…yet do I dare?

backwards now, he whispers of a wicked conversation
depicted to my burning ears in vivid illustration
an unrestricted rendering of cindered animation
that scorches paths across my mind in mental consummation

forward now, he licks his lips and puts his hands in heated places
upon my curves he speaks in tongue, dipped low in secret spaces
teasing with quick kisses while he promises to trace his
eager fingers over me, I gasp as my heart races

ending now, he intentionally adds to my sexual frustration
talking of how we should do this poetic collaboration
as if the words alone could end my constant contemplation
of fucking him, but that’s aiight…

cuz it’s only a flirtation

done in partnership with a poet who shall remain nameless...

When Fallen Doves Cry

Here’s a conversation with a girl who should have known
That I was not the kind of man that she could ever hope to own
She didn’t know where I lived and we didn’t talk on the phone
But I was welcome in her bed when I couldn’t stand to be alone
Her real name was Mary but her street name was Simone
I’m not calling her a bitch but I was just giving her the bone.

It was early in the morning and I had to start my day
But I sat there quietly listening to what she had to say
Honey I know you don’t want me in more than a physical way
And I know it’s no use telling how I feel or begging you to stay
But there’s something you should know before you go on your way
Every time you take my body a piece of my soul gets thrown away.

I didn’t want to be mean but I couldn’t lose control
So I laid it on the line and let her know what was her role
Girl I paid for your body and I got no use for your soul
So stop with all that talk because we are even, on the whole
Why mess with our arrangement when we had a common goal
We rocked throughout the night and now its time for me to roll.

She did her best to hold her tears and save a little pride
But the truth that she was hurt was a fact she couldn’t hide
I just left her staring at my back as I turned to go outside
And she asked softly, “See you tonight?” choking a bit as she cried
With my back still turned “I’ll be out of town a few days,” I lied
I’ll see you on the corner,” I added, knowing well what that implied.

Peace and Love,

Ali’s Zay

Copyright © 2008 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.