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National Poetry Writing Month *check daily*

Peace. Thanks to the excellent poet-in-residence Derrick Weston Brown of Busboy and Poets, I have foolishly decided to try this Poem-A-Day deal.  Be sure to also check out the NaPoWriMo website and all the other wonderful poets that have joined this great effort. I’m so glad to be a part of it. Now, to be honest, I’m not anyone’s poet. I RHYME MY BUTT OFF THO (lol). Anyway, there will be haiku, rhymes, lyrics, words and all sorts of stuff here  in this space. Keep checking back as I’m going to house them all here.

Day 1

What The F*ck (Haiku)

When You Told Me That
I Wasn’t Who You Thought I
Was I Laughed At You

Day 2 (note: i wrote this on my blackberry last night & i have the time stamp to prove it haha!)

Noise

It was here over the din of complaint and sorrow that I found clarity.

I follow your voice as if it were the only one I have ever known.

The familiar way you utter sweet words inspire me to take you away….

To someplace quiet.

Day 3

Sun God

I am beautiful because I do not need the backdrop of perfect skies to shine.

I shine. I glow. I am.

I give life. I make life. I help you shine. I help you glow. I help you be.

I heal. I love. I warm cold skin. I dry wet clothes. I do.

I shine. I glow. I am.

Day 4

The First Thing

Morning Stiffness
and
Blurry Eyes
and
Wafting Aromas
and
Parched Throat
and
Long Stretches
and
Loud Yawns
and
Rustling Sheets
and
Hair Askew
and….
You laying there stirring softly appearing beautiful as the night before.

Day 5

Lifetime

I made her hips move in a way she forgot
She told me to go fast then slow
She told me so and She never tells me no

I make her feel beautiful each time I kiss her
I bring heaven to her feet each time I touch her
She told me so and She never tells me no

We dance in moonlight like wolves paired forever
We chase each other’s tails like playful pups
She told me so and She never tells me no

Day 6

Soul (Haiku)

Once Our Body Dies
The Pure Essence To Which We
Return To Is Home

Day 7

Knowledge Degree

Allah Born God. Indeed.
Only supreme beings can bear such perfect black skin.

That blackness is a combination of pain. Of love. Of life.
That blackness that resonates in the souls of men.

That. Blackness.
That. Heaven.

Each time we see that blackness we stare for hours.
You cannot look away from that blackness.

That. Blackness.
That.Heaven.

That blackness made me turn around and speak and stammer and praise God.
That blackness made me cradle my baby and kiss her forehead with divine love.

That. Blackness.
That.Heaven.

Day 8

Singing Them Blues

He knew poverty like Luther loved Kentucky Fried.
Like Aretha loves employing ill-fitting bras.
Like Whitney loving a n*gga she ain’t much better than.

He knew being poor like Quincy loved them snow flakes.
Like Marvin’s daddy not knowing who he took from us.
Like Stevie’s can sing a song that hits you in all chakras.

He knew hunger like Miles loved Cocaine and Betty.
Like Coltrane loved that bottle.
Like Alice loved that man.

We singing them blues. We singing them blues.
We playing that jazz. We playing that jazz.
We clapping our hands. We clapping our hands.

We singing.

Day 9 (I assure you that I’ve been writing. I have the timestamps to prove it but I was without PC access)

Point Being

I don’t know why you’re here.
I could imagine it’s my love that keeps you.
I might even pretend you think of me as a soul mate.
But the truth is that you stay because I haven’t left you.
And you know I won’t.
And you don’t have the courage to leave.

Day 10

Georgia

Small. Insignificant.
At first sighting, you were not impressive.

Time passed. You grew. The sun kissed you.
You plumped up and you felt divine.

Then your fullness was depleted by unseen means.
We could not keep you fat and full and pretty.

Moving away to fresher air and open space.
I saw you grow. Fat. Full. Pretty. I gave a squeeze.

You did not give. I kept my hands on the thickest parts of you.
I slid my hand all the way up and all the way down. Amazed.

I left and returned and you droop. You sigh. You wait.
Spring is here and this is your time but you feel limp.

Where is the life in you?

Day 11

Hangover Haiku

I Shouldn’t Have Had
That Last F*cking Shot So Now
I’m Paying For It

Day 12

Untitled

I adore how your mouth moves
when you speak lies about
loving me or loving anyone
besides yourself.

Day 13

Pity

You do not impress anyone with your misery.
Your love of sad songs and tales of solitude are dour.

You do not choose bliss. You choose avoidance.
You live in an utopian fog of imagined malcontent.

You choose friends who will not crowd you.
You pick lovers who are easily interchangeable.

You do not invest. You do not add depth.
You avoid uncomfortabe speeches unless you begin them.

You think you know it all. You think too much.
You are pitiful. And I yet I love you.

Pity.

Day 14

For Marcus Neptune *(see below for backstory)

You hid your beautiful face behind masks of exaggerated manhood
So afraid to let me see

Told me I would not understand your truth
I hugged you that night like only a brother can

I told you to be free to speak from your soul
When you did we cried like newborns sucking in new breath

You were reborn. I was reborn.

Fathers
Brothers
Friends

You lifted the mask to let in the light
No longer afraid to be yourself

Honest now. Telling everyone. Even those who will hate you.
You are not ashamed anymore.

I love you just as much as I did when we jabbed each other’s ribs looking at Tanya’s ass
I love  you even more now.

*My good friend Marcus Neptune (not his real name) had struggled with being out amongst our circle because some in the circle would not understand MN’s choice. When he had a baby with a friend of ours, he became so obviously torn and driven to prove to us he was straight. Then one night over beers and Wii, he told me his story and how he came to know. It was one of more moving moments of my life. I may show this to him and if I do, I love you Marc. I really do, brother.

Day 15

I’m Feelin’ Cool

I ain’t been this happy since grade school
That’s when life was easy because I ain’t have no bills

All I did was eat fun-dip and fun-yuns and play my Colecovision
I went to the library gettin’ my nerd escapism on…ah Hillcrest

I ain’t been this happy since walking across that stage
Being handed a paper that said YOU MADE IT — in so many words

I got high and drunk and did so much humpin’ around
I’m just as shocked as you are that I made it out in one piece

I ain’t been this happy since last Summer
I couldn’t get enough of her but she had enough of me

I thought we was gonna be cool and make things happen
The joke was definitely on me Jack cuz She GONE

I ain’t been this happy since she made her first strained cry
I was holdin’ her like MAN THAT IS AMAZING

I cried like she was doin’ but I was cool…I was cool
But I still get my moments when I ain’t so cool…I ain’t so cool

But goddamn if I ain’t feelin’ cool right now…I am feelin’ cool Jack
Real cool

Day 16

Better Than

Say Blood, Dem Is Some MEAN threads you got on
You must be a rich n*gga
A slick n*gga
One of dem uptown n*ggas comin’ down dis way to kick it with us broke n*ggas
But you just a n*gga, N*gga
High Poastin’
Big Boastin’
Big Horse D*ck Swingin’ Ass N*gga
Think he smarter than me Ass N*gga
You think you betta than me Ass N*gga……….

But lemme hold like five dollars, my n*gga

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6 Responses

  1. Clever little first verse…thanks for sharing.

  2. looking forward to reading your other poems!

  3. For someone who’s nobody’s poet, you always seem to move me w/ these words… I especially like Sun God and The First Thing; both very original and different in their appearance. Perfect language and beautiful endings. 🙂

  4. Keep going please.

  5. PEACE

    I want to stress that only 3 of the poems I’ve done are “personal” in nature. I assure you, most of it is just freestyle. Although I would love to throw some hot acid-tinged words at a few people from my past, the operative term is that they are indeed in my past. I do not hold grudges, create exit sermons, seek to dig into the minds of the forgotten or try and prove I’m above any of those (good and bad) moments that shape my past.

    I’m too black and elegant for that sh*t.

    PEACE

  6. […] Writing Month 2011! (Check Daily) Posted on April 1, 2011 by Wise Math Peace. Last year, I participated in the National Poetry Writing Month (conveniently known as NaPoWriMo) due to inspiration from talented poet Derrick Weston Brown, a […]

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