Zion in the middle of a flashback of the one month he went to day care when he was four, at the end of the, "We need to go there and if those women are still alive, we need to save the children because if they (the adults) are any thing like they were when I was there, a child is being spanked right now!"
Then he says, "Hey mom, did any black people die in Wolverine?"
"No Zion. A black bear bought it though."
Silence
"Mom, you know my favorite part of Wolverine?"
"No black people died?"
"So that was you're favorite part too! That proves it. I'm your son!"
So, I'll tell you if I haven't already, about when Zion walked out of the last last X-Men movie because the black character named Darwin, who is supposed to be able to adapt to his surroundings was killed. I believe the declaration as he stomped out of the theater was, "HOW THE HECK YOU GOING TO CALL THE BLACK CHARACTER DARWIN AND HIS POWER IS TO ADAPT TO HIS SURROUNDINGS AND HE DIES BECAUSE HE CAN'T ADAPT TO HIS SURROUNDING!!THAT'S IT!! I'M MAKING MY OWN MOVE AND GUESS WHAT MOM? EVERYBODY IN IT WILL BE BLACK MOM. AND GUESS WHAT MOM? NO ONES GONNA DIES!"
It was a very proud moment for me. I get all teary just thinking about it... That's my baby. Hercules, Hercules!!
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Phone Date FAIL!!!####
The first one went well. Discovery, similar interests, closer to my age. This one started off fine. I told her how I just had dinner with my best boy friend The Ken of J, how I wanted to kidnap him to Savannah but he couldn't but it's in the plans for the future. She told me about her day and her plans for the rest of the weekend and we chat about plans to meet face to face next week.
She says, " Let's play a game. I am going to ask you a random question and you answer it then you can ask me one."
I think, great!Let's play.
The question is , " What is a reason you might give your partner flowers?"
I say, "Saturday. I am a romantic any day is a reason to give flowers or office products or whatever thing I am looking at that makes me think of my partner and that my partner should have it."
She says, "Awww, that's beautiful. You know I can count on my hands and not use all of the fingers the number of times my EX gave me flowers."
Then she documents the times. A lot!
I say, " Well, situations change and so do people. When would you give flowers or the like?"
She says, " Well, I have so little experience with that because my EX....."
I'm not sure how it happened but suddenly we are talking about her ex, and when I say we I mean she. For over an hour.
Now several things occur to me as I zone out of the conversation.
1 - I am tired of seeing/dating/fucking folks still hung up on their EX's.
2 - Internet dating kinda sucks.
3 - Why isn't there a class or something for this?
4 - I should paint this room.
5 - Is it that I am having some insecurity about breathing on the neck of fifty, that I think I will not be desirable and this is why I have put myself in this place?
I try to redirect. "What's the last movie you saw?"
"Well, my EX and I saw......"
?
?
?
Done.
I am lonely. But not this lonely.
She says, " Let's play a game. I am going to ask you a random question and you answer it then you can ask me one."
I think, great!Let's play.
The question is , " What is a reason you might give your partner flowers?"
I say, "Saturday. I am a romantic any day is a reason to give flowers or office products or whatever thing I am looking at that makes me think of my partner and that my partner should have it."
She says, "Awww, that's beautiful. You know I can count on my hands and not use all of the fingers the number of times my EX gave me flowers."
Then she documents the times. A lot!
I say, " Well, situations change and so do people. When would you give flowers or the like?"
She says, " Well, I have so little experience with that because my EX....."
I'm not sure how it happened but suddenly we are talking about her ex, and when I say we I mean she. For over an hour.
Now several things occur to me as I zone out of the conversation.
1 - I am tired of seeing/dating/fucking folks still hung up on their EX's.
2 - Internet dating kinda sucks.
3 - Why isn't there a class or something for this?
4 - I should paint this room.
5 - Is it that I am having some insecurity about breathing on the neck of fifty, that I think I will not be desirable and this is why I have put myself in this place?
I try to redirect. "What's the last movie you saw?"
"Well, my EX and I saw......"
?
?
?
Done.
I am lonely. But not this lonely.
Friday, July 26, 2013
Encounter #5
I pretend you don't exist sometimes
place your image in a box next to my heart
I pull you from my chest every once in a while
to be dazzled by your smile
resist the urge to sink
because you could drown me beautiful.
When you called today
I felt the shimmy under my ribs
heard the want in your voice
decided it might be safe to call you real
that my old-fashioned heart could
forget a decade plus and maybe
one day you'll call me cougar.
What I notice first is my need to write
make you etched and hope
push the "R" harder on this keyboard
so I know how Real this could be
and maybe I need these words
to remind myself not to be afraid
not to move too fast a known flaw
because you could drown me beautiful.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
~Encounter #2
when she asks what I am feeling
I don't tell her
she doesn't really want to know
the question is so vague and my answer
could be unwanted shrapnel
lodged between breast bone
instead I ask for specifics
about the what and why
she smiles
asks for a kiss instead
that answer
I give freely
without question
sigh
The problem with falling for a friend
is that you won't know if it is love
till the moment you are about to lose her
forever.
Taher Shakir
is that you won't know if it is love
till the moment you are about to lose her
forever.
Taher Shakir
Monday, July 01, 2013
Common Sense
I always find it interesting when people target groups of people having no idea what they are talking about. Like just because they say a thing, it is so! It’s pathetic really the amount of time spent spinning old yarns like if I spin it the right way it will somehow make sense this time. I won’t. The sweater is still too tight, too ugly and smells of lies, lied so long ago they just get more pungent in the re-telling.
It seems that the more we evolve (some of us), the more we de-evolve. I get that the idea of someone living their lives on their own terms is frightening but shouldn’t it be more frightening to the one living that life, not the one fantasizing on how other’s live their lives? I mean I don’t worry about how you are going to pay your bill. Those are YOUR bills. I am certainly not going to worry about what is happening (or not) in your bedroom. That’s YOUR bedroom!
So, unless respect for self and others has been out sourced with oh so many jobs, I’m thinking it’s your job to mind your business, not anyone else’s.
It seems that the more we evolve (some of us), the more we de-evolve. I get that the idea of someone living their lives on their own terms is frightening but shouldn’t it be more frightening to the one living that life, not the one fantasizing on how other’s live their lives? I mean I don’t worry about how you are going to pay your bill. Those are YOUR bills. I am certainly not going to worry about what is happening (or not) in your bedroom. That’s YOUR bedroom!
So, unless respect for self and others has been out sourced with oh so many jobs, I’m thinking it’s your job to mind your business, not anyone else’s.
Thursday, May 09, 2013
Bully Culture Alive And Well And on a Television or Facebook Status Near You!
We live in a world where we celebrate the bad and tear down the good. It teaches it's citizens to vilify and pigeon hole and hate. It pushes lies an almost fact until we are all full and we can't see the good in people. There are no perfect humans. They are going to churn this man who did something good until he is as bad as the man who held these women captive. And the other humans with the bad things in their backyards that no one has discovered because their good hasn't made the little big screen will help smear this muck around until that is all there is. He's a hero and only the most fucked of the human race would get off on circumventing the good to glorify the bad.
I haven't slept much or well in a few days so the filters are loose.
This is the shyt that makes people not want to help each other and it's fucking bullying. When a society actively publicly bullies why the fuck is the same society shocked that it is a popular thing with the kids they have taught so well. It's the equivalent to the boy who slapped me in middle schools because he said I was too smart for my own good always getting A's and shit. The only difference he was one guy, what do you do when it's a nation bullying you? When it's one guy you can ambush his ass later try some of the tricks you learned in martial arts and threaten to cut off his goody parts and stuff them down his throat if he ever even thinks about touching you again. He won't be able to use my tactics on the nation. I personally am only going to share the positive. There is too much negative in this world I refuse to contribute. Now I get to add this to the other sad, thanks America.
I haven't slept much or well in a few days so the filters are loose.
This is the shyt that makes people not want to help each other and it's fucking bullying. When a society actively publicly bullies why the fuck is the same society shocked that it is a popular thing with the kids they have taught so well. It's the equivalent to the boy who slapped me in middle schools because he said I was too smart for my own good always getting A's and shit. The only difference he was one guy, what do you do when it's a nation bullying you? When it's one guy you can ambush his ass later try some of the tricks you learned in martial arts and threaten to cut off his goody parts and stuff them down his throat if he ever even thinks about touching you again. He won't be able to use my tactics on the nation. I personally am only going to share the positive. There is too much negative in this world I refuse to contribute. Now I get to add this to the other sad, thanks America.
Wednesday, May 08, 2013
32/30 Ethereal
There is a place inside of me unreachable by normal means
but normal hasn’t lived here in many years
so you may not recognize that objects
are not as close as they appear
and you are not as close as I thought
could be I need a stronger prescription
or my vision suffers from acute rose colored tint.
There was a time when I zombied my way through my existence
believing rejection was an anagram of my name
regardless of the lack of similar letters
I would write poems
hang them around my room
pretend they were mirrors
every once in a while I’d glimpse my own reflection
I’d wave and sometimes I waved back.
There was a winter when I felt less myself than usual
I took a walk without a coat
shivered myself calmer
held myself like a lover and in that instance
I wasn’t alone in my loneliness
I have never been truly warm since.
There is a place inside of me sometimes I scream in there
the echoes feel like pulse
so loud I cover my ears
but I am the only one who feels the terror of it
the only one who hears
this is probably a good thing.
but normal hasn’t lived here in many years
so you may not recognize that objects
are not as close as they appear
and you are not as close as I thought
could be I need a stronger prescription
or my vision suffers from acute rose colored tint.
There was a time when I zombied my way through my existence
believing rejection was an anagram of my name
regardless of the lack of similar letters
I would write poems
hang them around my room
pretend they were mirrors
every once in a while I’d glimpse my own reflection
I’d wave and sometimes I waved back.
There was a winter when I felt less myself than usual
I took a walk without a coat
shivered myself calmer
held myself like a lover and in that instance
I wasn’t alone in my loneliness
I have never been truly warm since.
There is a place inside of me sometimes I scream in there
the echoes feel like pulse
so loud I cover my ears
but I am the only one who feels the terror of it
the only one who hears
this is probably a good thing.
31/30 Transparent
back in the bad old dark days
when I wore invisible
like forgotten in the margins
like a fancy shiny party dress
perfect for dancing
with a plunging neckline
to show off my self-esteem
slits up to my thigh
make-up thick like war paint
or the undertakings of undertakers
dead in my flesh
but hoping to catch your eye
you never remembered me
when I wore it
so I threw the dress away
now
every once in a while
like a haunting
someone else wearing your eyes
does not remember me
standing right there
invisible
and I feel that dress
the plunging neckline
a noose choking the breath
out of me
it does not fit the way it used to
something I cannot afford to be comfortable in
forgettable
besides
no one dances anymore
when I wore invisible
like forgotten in the margins
like a fancy shiny party dress
perfect for dancing
with a plunging neckline
to show off my self-esteem
slits up to my thigh
make-up thick like war paint
or the undertakings of undertakers
dead in my flesh
but hoping to catch your eye
you never remembered me
when I wore it
so I threw the dress away
now
every once in a while
like a haunting
someone else wearing your eyes
does not remember me
standing right there
invisible
and I feel that dress
the plunging neckline
a noose choking the breath
out of me
it does not fit the way it used to
something I cannot afford to be comfortable in
forgettable
besides
no one dances anymore
Friday, May 03, 2013
30/30 Do you have morals
my reaction
was not so much about the question
more about what you wanted to ask
but didn't
you were not concerned about my principles
or the distinction between right and wrong
you were calling me wrong
hoping my response would make you right
and it's sad really
me expressing conveying my truth
you judging
have I mentioned
I love the way you judge
the way you know wrong and right
because of the mere fact that
you are male and straight
quoting scriptures with that drink in your hand
Looking all sinful but with soul
but me
I'm too classy
won't ask if you've ever cheated on you wife
driven while high or imbibed
have you ever made a move
on someone young enough
to be your daughter
or fudged on your taxes
cut someone off in traffic
ever lied stole or gambled
because if i asked those
would be real questions
unlike the one you posed to me
I might be over reacting the way females do
and those lesbians they all radical and fringe
Now had you asked
do I conduct myself in such a way
that hundreds of parents entrusted
me with co-parenting privileges
or does anyone see me beyond my sexuality
or if the children I birthed and raised
hold my name in their hearts tight
or is it a fact that I can conform but choose not to
mostly because I refuse to be vague
in my existence
so excuse me
if I don't answer you question
but when you get brave enough
to ask the one lodged in you throat
the one tangled in your homophobia
when you ask the right question
trust me
I will have the right answer
Wednesday, May 01, 2013
29/30 What Some See As Hopeless
the problem with being a romantic
is that even though the siren song
blares it's warnings all ten decibels
a sound that clearly means
danger is ahead and you should run the fuck away
and on the faint of heart it works
they actually heed the warning
they avoid the sharp rock action
they head for calmer seas
but we romantic types
we run towards the sound
look for the storm clouds a smile
wrapped around sharp edges
we get just a little bit closer
closer, closer to the edge look over it
size up the fall decide well,
it isn't that far and besides our love
is so pure powerful
we feel a little indestructible
believe we can survive the rocks
choke our way through the waves
endure the storm
hell, we are lightning strike proof
and if we get destroyed
the more fanciful of us know
that at least we will look poetic
broken body strewn about the beach and
I'm so in love with you
spelled out in the sand in blood
seeping from our opened mouth
the same color of our hearts
i mean
we know we won't die
but there is just something
maybe
it's the color of you
the shape of your smile
that flutter kick stutter
thing that happens when our eyes meet
and the world tips
that's what does it
kills us every time
is that even though the siren song
blares it's warnings all ten decibels
a sound that clearly means
danger is ahead and you should run the fuck away
and on the faint of heart it works
they actually heed the warning
they avoid the sharp rock action
they head for calmer seas
but we romantic types
we run towards the sound
look for the storm clouds a smile
wrapped around sharp edges
we get just a little bit closer
closer, closer to the edge look over it
size up the fall decide well,
it isn't that far and besides our love
is so pure powerful
we feel a little indestructible
believe we can survive the rocks
choke our way through the waves
endure the storm
hell, we are lightning strike proof
and if we get destroyed
the more fanciful of us know
that at least we will look poetic
broken body strewn about the beach and
I'm so in love with you
spelled out in the sand in blood
seeping from our opened mouth
the same color of our hearts
i mean
we know we won't die
but there is just something
maybe
it's the color of you
the shape of your smile
that flutter kick stutter
thing that happens when our eyes meet
and the world tips
that's what does it
kills us every time
28/30 Digging For Lost Gold
so much of what happened
could have been avoided
a simple no
a withdrawal of eye contact
removal of the cables
before they attempt to
jump start old business
not accepting your friend request
that is what I should have done
had i done that actually listened
to my shoulder angels
both of them screaming
you know fucking better
with their flares and sirens
had i listened
so much of this could have been ignored
but honestly,
i don't think it could be avoided
i don't think i wanted to avoid it
i know i wanted to jump in
knew it was the deep end
but i was a fucking lifeguard once
and if i can save others surely
i can save myself plus
i wanted to see if for who it was in real time
wanted to touch it make it say my name again
hold it close again whisper in its ear
hands on my hips strapped in pleasure
breaking beds and climbing walls
i didn't avoid it because i
wondered if i sprawl under her
all X marks the spot my geography
all its boarders wide open
if she would remembered where
my treasure was buried
and plunder
she did
could have been avoided
a simple no
a withdrawal of eye contact
removal of the cables
before they attempt to
jump start old business
not accepting your friend request
that is what I should have done
had i done that actually listened
to my shoulder angels
both of them screaming
you know fucking better
with their flares and sirens
had i listened
so much of this could have been ignored
but honestly,
i don't think it could be avoided
i don't think i wanted to avoid it
i know i wanted to jump in
knew it was the deep end
but i was a fucking lifeguard once
and if i can save others surely
i can save myself plus
i wanted to see if for who it was in real time
wanted to touch it make it say my name again
hold it close again whisper in its ear
hands on my hips strapped in pleasure
breaking beds and climbing walls
i didn't avoid it because i
wondered if i sprawl under her
all X marks the spot my geography
all its boarders wide open
if she would remembered where
my treasure was buried
and plunder
she did
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
27/ 30 Sista's Grimm
she wants me to tell her a story
one full of dreams and hopes
white knights and fairytale fantasies
but I don't know those stories
I know of hurt and sorrow
sin and sex in and out of closets
tears and healing and what's for dinner
why is this house not clean
and are you going to answer that
with your straight gay face
tone it down bury yourself invisible
claw through your own heart
to surface breathe stuck in lungs
and sweat and fear
these are the stories that haunt me
trip off my tongue bullets and fury
she begs for a story
I warn her with my straight gay face
that my stories are full of guts and vulnerability
lost loves and fallen angels
heartstrings pulled to distortion distraction
shipwrecks, siren songs pit bulls and pirates
that take more than they give
pull you off center scatter your thoughts
break you and pisses on your future
while kissing you on the mouth
some would call them demons
dress them in colors all dark
and fangs shrouded in hind sight
they descend these stories sometimes
from place inside me where I hide
them and they surface all jack in the box
knock me off metaphorical horses
and punch people in their faces
I tell her all the ugly
pick at all the scabs let her watch
the ooze and glitter pull open my chest
show her my soft broken places
the punctures and broken promises
I bare myself naked show her my geography
highlighting the rough terrain trace my
stretch marks connect the dots of every mole
every blemish all the dirt and I wait for her
to walk away show me her polite retreating back
tether myself to the earth so her evacuation
will not leave me depleted
she surprises me
pulls open her chest shows me her
soft broken places guides my hand inside
invites me to stay tells me that those stories
the ones full of dreams and hopes
white knights and fairytale fantasies
without the hurt and helplessness
that real people feel in real time have
always frightened her
she wants the story where the two
heroins bring their hurt together heal each other
in the telling rediscover the beats in their hearts
unashamed of who knows
kissing in the light and pride
holding even when they both are accustomed
to letting go and disappointment and shame
I tell her I don't know that story
she tells me she doesn't know that story either
figures we can write one together
and gives me her pen
one full of dreams and hopes
white knights and fairytale fantasies
but I don't know those stories
I know of hurt and sorrow
sin and sex in and out of closets
tears and healing and what's for dinner
why is this house not clean
and are you going to answer that
with your straight gay face
tone it down bury yourself invisible
claw through your own heart
to surface breathe stuck in lungs
and sweat and fear
these are the stories that haunt me
trip off my tongue bullets and fury
she begs for a story
I warn her with my straight gay face
that my stories are full of guts and vulnerability
lost loves and fallen angels
heartstrings pulled to distortion distraction
shipwrecks, siren songs pit bulls and pirates
that take more than they give
pull you off center scatter your thoughts
break you and pisses on your future
while kissing you on the mouth
some would call them demons
dress them in colors all dark
and fangs shrouded in hind sight
they descend these stories sometimes
from place inside me where I hide
them and they surface all jack in the box
knock me off metaphorical horses
and punch people in their faces
I tell her all the ugly
pick at all the scabs let her watch
the ooze and glitter pull open my chest
show her my soft broken places
the punctures and broken promises
I bare myself naked show her my geography
highlighting the rough terrain trace my
stretch marks connect the dots of every mole
every blemish all the dirt and I wait for her
to walk away show me her polite retreating back
tether myself to the earth so her evacuation
will not leave me depleted
she surprises me
pulls open her chest shows me her
soft broken places guides my hand inside
invites me to stay tells me that those stories
the ones full of dreams and hopes
white knights and fairytale fantasies
without the hurt and helplessness
that real people feel in real time have
always frightened her
she wants the story where the two
heroins bring their hurt together heal each other
in the telling rediscover the beats in their hearts
unashamed of who knows
kissing in the light and pride
holding even when they both are accustomed
to letting go and disappointment and shame
I tell her I don't know that story
she tells me she doesn't know that story either
figures we can write one together
and gives me her pen
Sunday, April 28, 2013
26/30 Cadaver
when you get the time
remove my corpse from the cold
lay me out
like you always do
you know the texture of my bones
my flesh goose under your touch
make sure the scalpel is sharp
so the incision is clean and “Y” perfect
when you cut through my rib cage
don’t go to any expense any
pruning shears you might find
at any random hardware store will do
you will need the leverage
to lift my chest plate and cut through
my heart
my lungs
my liver exposed
put your hands in deep
don’t bother to wear gloves
you have been here before
left you marks and bruises
enjoy the art of it
analyze and weigh
excavate the organs you want to display
frame them
hang them on a wall
walk by and view them from time to time
donate them to a museum
so everyone can see
what messy art you make
Thursday, April 25, 2013
25/ 30 Everything She Wants
it started as a dare
you soon learned not to dare me
to do anything that wouldn't result in death
we became marathon runners
check list risk takers
we would have sex
everywhere
my favorite was in the elevator
both times
the first all concealed and safety
the second all glass open
like we were saying
watch me world as I go up and down
at the same time
it pleased you that I wasn't afraid
didn't know I was supposed to be
didn't know that the idea of two girls together
the way we two girls were together
might cause others to want to harm us
so wrapped up in the magic
I created scenarios to tease the sex out of you
the feathers were fun
adding honey not my best idea
and yes we ruined my sheets
and yes I let you leave for work
a feather stuck to your back
giggled thinking about how you would explain
I still have some of that in me
and there are times when I find myself
in places we made it in
and wonder where you are
when’s the last time you
fingered a girl at a ball game
or made love on a rooftop
I was in that elevator the other day the glass one
memory made my whole body blush
I could feel your breath in my ear whispering
I dare you
24/30 Shining Star
The year I turned ten St. Louis was a recent memory
Georgia red clay under foot mass exodus
to the black mecca of the south I was transplanted.
That year I became a southern bell
scraped knees and too thin.
Music was my everything in those days
my transistor in my pocket shaky reception grooving.
I wore ponytails back then and plastic shoes chasing down
the ice cream man in perfect rhythm.
School days filled with southern drawls that made me question
the English language the letter “r” in words where they did not belong.
The subtle differences of being black in the south
my northern fighting on playgrounds a different kind of civil war.
There seemed to be more sky here more future and forever.
Our roots the same growing in different dirt reshaping our tree.
I used to sit in the window listen to the city sounds my boom box tuned in.
While Earth Wind and Fire sang me into the world.
You're a shining star
No matter who you are
Shining bright to see
What you could truly be
23/30 when the moon is full and you remember
when the moon is full and you remember
those nights when our skin was the same
where you ended I began we could not tell
did not want to know
I was lighter then
my spirit not this weighed down vessel
feeling the best and worst at the same time
when love was simple
and you said it
you said you loved me
and I believed
how could you touch me like this
if you did not love me
stars in my eyes for you
blind and deaf ears
you did not mean it
not completely
I figured this was your way
of punishing me
to prove some point
I would never understand
because you would never explain
and now I do not want to know
the why of it
the aftermath has left me
second guessing myself
happy out of my reach
filled me with the fear
that every next lover
will not love me
the way you did not
even when they say they do
so I am afraid to act
afraid of my own tongue
the sting of rejection
is the gift that keeps on giving
the one you cannot return
it takes up so much space
my heart is full of it
and the scars are fresh
and open and seeping
and sad
and unworthy
and longing
and lonely
and you
when the moon is full and you remember
remember that time you taught me a lesson
I will never forget
those nights when our skin was the same
where you ended I began we could not tell
did not want to know
I was lighter then
my spirit not this weighed down vessel
feeling the best and worst at the same time
when love was simple
and you said it
you said you loved me
and I believed
how could you touch me like this
if you did not love me
stars in my eyes for you
blind and deaf ears
you did not mean it
not completely
I figured this was your way
of punishing me
to prove some point
I would never understand
because you would never explain
and now I do not want to know
the why of it
the aftermath has left me
second guessing myself
happy out of my reach
filled me with the fear
that every next lover
will not love me
the way you did not
even when they say they do
so I am afraid to act
afraid of my own tongue
the sting of rejection
is the gift that keeps on giving
the one you cannot return
it takes up so much space
my heart is full of it
and the scars are fresh
and open and seeping
and sad
and unworthy
and longing
and lonely
and you
when the moon is full and you remember
remember that time you taught me a lesson
I will never forget
sigh
“I think you still love me, but we can’t escape the fact that I’m not enough for you. I knew this was going to happen. So I’m not blaming you for falling in love with another woman. I’m not angry, either. I should be, but I’m not. I just feel pain. A lot of pain. I thought I could imagine how much this would hurt, but I was wrong.”
― Haruki Murakami
― Haruki Murakami
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
22/30 Help Me Rhonda
maybe it was an omen
a warning
letting me know from the day I was born
that I would be haunted by memories
of her
of them
the women who once cleaved to me
their truths tattooed on new skin
holding me like secrets
like time and times
like I am free to love the way I love
I don’t want to be rescued from my memories
don’t want to croon it over and over
Rhonda
I am sure you could have fit the bill
I love the feel the skin
could give a damn what color
they are wrapped in
I’m not afraid of losing love
I have lost it before
gender a metaphor
I have lost it by making the decision
to take love off life support
kiss it on the lips
as it goes up in flames
it haunts me like a scent
in my clothes on the wall
in my nose on my skin
in the fur of the pets that watched
gave their approval
licked my face the morning after
so I have lost nothing
and I want to keep
the memories
the feeling I've felt at and under
the hands of love in the moment
those memories
have never frightened me
I keep them
hold them promise
my fear is not that I have loved
it might be that they won’t remember
how much I loved them
so maybe in that respect you could
help me
Rhonda
21/30 A Haiku imagining Eve in modern times if she channeled Rick James and addressing those who blame her for Adams sort comings, their periods and a host of other shit.
Man, woman, apple
I am the beginning of
all life
I’m Eve Bitch
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