Today I woke up with tears clouding my eyes
Tears that burned and flooded my eyes
Blinking them close
Can’t stop the cries from my eyes
Only to stop and realize the ache inside
I call out to my brother from the heavens above
And ask, “What is this? Love?”
… No answer
Happy Birthday to the Birthday boy.
Birthday boy with no Birthday joy.
No Birthday cards, no Birthday toys.
Birthday cake with no Birthday candles.
Birthday wish blown into the wind.
Birthday song sung by strangers.
Happy Birthday. Happy Birthday to me.
Another year to live. Another year to be.
Testing the mic because we need a check please. Don’t get stuck. Try not to freeze. It can be hard to speak up at times. Especially when you feel no one understands. Not your parents, not your lover, and not even your childhood friends. And, this may come off as a run on, but when you speak your truth, it’s best to just go on. Don’t stop. This is my first attempt at touching upon something deep. Some of us deal with problems head on or just by being naive. The politics, the cultural influence, the harsh truths that bleed through our streets. Can’t go a day without hearing something terribly wrong in the news. From Trayvon Martin to Michael Brown. All of a sudden, wearing a hoodie can get me gunned down? Tyler Clementi to Phoebe Prince. And now we can’t love who we want in fear of being bullied to a death sentence? And this is the tragedy the majority of us know? What about the countless others the media refuse to show? Too many youths dying in this world. If knowledge is power, why do we keep lying to this world? Laying off the teachers and cutting the funds that are used to educate this world. Lost. Angry. Perplexed. It’s jarring to me. Makes me want to plant this mic on the highest mountain and scream out to this country. Love. Understanding. Patience. Hope. Faith. Brotherhood. Revelation. Jesus walked this earth. Religious? Please consult your congregation. And it’s all wrapped up in politics. Media. Propaganda. Censorship. It’s all on-demand. Why cheat me out of the truth when pieces are scattered across Facebook and YouTube. Susan no longer needs an investigator, she can scan her cheating husband’s boob tube. No privacy. Out there for all to see. Like this and instagram that. Your date can’t remember your last name, but wants you to sext back. All ready for the plunge after only 1 pic. Holding my hand is too much, but you’re willing to come over to suck my d*ck? Ever heard of an STD? How about HIV? It may just be me, but I’m lost for words. No wonder so much of today’s hit music is about disloyal hos and saving bullshit for the birds. There is no learning in these lessons. It’s ok to not be spiritual, but still count your blessings. How about capitalism? I’m gassed out. War and terrorism or war on terrorism? I’m passed out. Poverty is very real. The economy is on the brink of being cashed out. And yet we are still the most powerful country. But at what costs? Is it all worth the risk of defamation and the loss of our humanity. Is it a good thing to lose humility? Call me naive, but I’d be foolish to not question the contingencies. And, then there’s global warming and something about the glaciers melting world-wide. But what makes front page news? Kanye West and his Kardashian bride. Some may not even know that Abraham Lincoln is the 16th president. Do we really know history? The true story without the embellishment? The slave trade, the Holocaust, Alice Paul and Rosa Parks. Should I even mention Benjamin Franklin, Martin Luther King, and Malcolm X? I recently heard someone ask how a train fit through the underground rail road. On television non-the-less. And this is what we broadcast to our children (our future leaders). I believe the correct text response is “SMH,” I digress…
You’re my secret sex pot
Soft and sweet
Piping up
I drop to my knees
You’re my secret sex pot
Supple and candied
Burnt candelabra
Caught in wax and steam
Smoke in the air
Sweat in my hair
Silhouettes in the air
Tender whispers
Sprawled out
And bare in your lair
Tasty honey
I’m panting for you
Chocolate lava
I’m drowning in you
You’re my secret sex pot
Please don’t leave
The way you’ve snatched me
May I have more? Pretty please?
Hearts are built to endure the whips
Shaped like bloody fists
Would never leap so far
If I was bound to miss
Crashing down love-less
Blisters and bliss
Kisses and lisps
Screams and violins
Racing through a rose petaled labyrinth
Losing myself again
Pushed and shunned
Under a spell and jilted for fun
Violet orchids and white lies
Boiling in your cauldron
How I yearned for just one embrace without the disdain
How I spun in love crazy and you drove it insane
All broken hearts sound the same
No matter the 100 smiles and hugs
The sex, the tears, thank you letters and drugs
I am all there is to blame
Once upon a time not quite like this
I yearned for a sweetness just like this.
A touch like this.
A kiss like this.
Never knew butterflies could soar like this
Or the sun would shine like this.
Smile like this.
So warm like this.
Never wrote a poem that sung like this.
Think I’ll stay for a while…
She mourns. She cries. She drinks and drives
down an endless road, staring into a midnight sky.
Fist clenched and heart racing.
She screams. She shouts. She fights to force all emotion out
into an abyss of nothingness, praying the pain away.
Poetry, forever my mystique lover
My heart refuses to quit…
Why Ask Why?
Why Poetrysnob? Why a blog? Why now? Why? Why? Why? Just a few of the questions I would get asked or even ask myself when I decided to shop around the idea of me actually launching my own blog, a place for me to finally unleash all of my creative thoughts and expressions onto one playing field… a project that would ultimately be the start to something greater for my art and ideas. I say “shop” because it was me not only trying to sell myself on the idea of possibly exploring a passion of mine (funny how I had to convince myself), but also looking for that endorsement from my peers. I thought getting inspired was simple, but I guess one still needs motivation and drive to start and hopefully finish… so here I go. I spent a whole year (maybe almost two) trying to figure out what path, what voice, what time, and so… I ask myself what now? Why now? Well, now is a better time than next week or next year, and last month has already passed, so why not now? Just continue to write and see what happens. It should be like planting a seed, watering it, and watching it grow. And, not forgetting to sing to it once in a while.
My Blog Title
I have always enjoyed writing in all shapes, sizes, forms, and colors. Prose allowed me to explore my love for storytelling, but poetry gave me the ability to not only tell a story, but to sing one, to make a strong statement in three lines or less, to share an intimate secret without exposing too much, and it quickly became my go-to kind of art. It was evident that “poetry” should be in the title. But, “snob?”…where does that come from? I like the way it sounds, and how it almost doesn’t make sense…but it kinda does. And, how it can have multiple meanings, but that’s only if you want it to. To be a snob is to be over-confident and greater than, to believe you are better and there is no question about it. You are superior. In most cases, this is a negative word and is in no way meant to be a form of flattery. But, when you are in your own creative space, exploring and creating art, drawing your own path with no excuses and no reservations, I believe there is no better way to be then… SUPER.
My Mission
To celebrate, explore and discover the poetry in my everyday life. To reflect and to create. To have fun. To get personal. To practice and critique. And, most of all, to get poetic.
So, there you have it… Poetrysnob.
Love Notes and Dirty Dishes 