Friday, February 8, 2008



He wanted me
To be a flowing river
Eternally supplying his needs
Him, closed off
Always receiving
Me, feeding him a feast
Him, giving me
Dried up crumbled promises
Only for him to walk away
Me, dangling
Like charms on a bracelet
Along with all the others

©Shai Lynn Kai Davis

Thursday, February 7, 2008


Touch me
I wont know without that tactile motion.
Touch me
Knead this flesh; create a commotion.

Touch me
None will know of your charity
Touch me
Just this once, this one rarity

Touch me
My teeth grind and my insides quake
Touch me
The earth will move; our souls will shake

Touch me
Just a taste of blackberry tips
Touch me
Angry digits dig into too full hips

Touch me
Coat this soul with victory’s toast
Touch me
Strike me; I crave discipline most

Touch me
Hold too tightly; force your will
Touch me
Pick me clean; eat your fill

Touch me
Every inch of you a discovery
Touch me
Your taste alone negates recovery

Touch me
Tear out my throat, gnash at my thighs
Touch me
Barrel right through me; ignore my cries

Touch me
Empty the vessel, strip flesh from bone
Touch me
Left as I was, as I am, rightly, alone

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Rappers and the Election

Haven't heard much from them--do they even care? Seen some interesing songs from Will I Am on Obama, but that's about it. Any poetry? Seems as if now's the time, as once we trduged as slaves in front of the building Barack's trying to occupy...

My Thank U Gift to BD...

...for including me in first volume!

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

To My Special Friend

Introduction: Touching
Wish expressed leads to fantasy fulfilled when poet’s heart is touched
By expressions of affection both deep and wide
Thus dipping my mighty quill in the fountain of your eyes
I seek to arouse the tender passion held inside

Submission: Total
Obey every word don’t question any rule
It’s a game only certain people can play
Don’t give in to fear give it all up
Do it now go all the way

Panties: Crotch-less
Let Victoria keep her secrets as Frederick’s
Reveals all in the land of the stars
Closer to home I see Uranus
Puckered and prepared to meet the wrath of Mars

Penetration: Complete
Stretching relaxing accommodating through contortion
begging point to be driven
While gracefully accepting the full measure of affection
Frightfully rigid yet so generously given

Conclusion: Climactic
Liquid passion flows down ebony towers
Red flames licking at their base
Gratitude abounds when dominance surrounds
Flesh adorned in leather and lace

PS: You are ORDERED not to thank me, the pleasure is all mine
Your tears of joy were ink enough to take us line by line.

Peace and Love,

Alizé (

Copyright © 2008 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

Monday, February 4, 2008

***THE ONE...A HerStory***

It was grey;
the one she was born with.
Not quite a ringlet, coiled so tight that when stretched, it recoiled.

Soon joined by others in its ranks, thousands of them, only black…
all of them not quite ringlets, coiled so tight they recoiled
but too slow not to be flattened under the powerful regime
of metal more than a hundred degrees short of molten
lava flowing down her cheeks
that once was Ultra Sheen.

Shoulders hunched per generations of defense mechanisms born of instinct
passed down through her double helixes escorted by
the impulse to clench buttocks and hold ears while
trying to still the synaptic cleft activity that produces the reflex
that scars little brown girls forever.

Not quite ringlets -- heated, stubborn coils re-coil angrily in the sun
setting the stage for the next phase, the new burn --
caused not by heat but by chemical arguments
that convince coils that coils are better = good if they do not recoil
and she accepts her fate and waits
for the tingle to tell her it is time and that they are no longer bad.

The battle to straighten (make right) the naturally crooked (coils) was fought
before acquaintances were made
before friendships could be established
before loyalties could be forged
before love affairs could flourish
between them and her.

Until one day the grey one;
the one she was born with.
Not quite a ringlet coiled so tight that when stretched, it recoiled…DID NOT.

It was only then --
after the one did not recoil,
after having lost almost 40 years of battles,
that she decided to win the war and let her stretched coils recoil and be BAD = good...again!

© Sharon J. All Rights Reserved 2008

***For the entire HerStory