Month: March 2023

Don’t Stop Loving

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©. Mar. 27, 2023. All Rights Reserved.

Don’t stop loving

Because you feel nothing,

Nevertheless, you felt my potential.

As if financial reparations

Are coming with taxes,

You felt my mornings.

The influential talks

Are meaningless memories

Like you’re likely illegal.

You felt my afternoons

Like sweets in panic rooms,

But who dies from engagement rings?

The evenings were like searching for

The keys if the house

Was burning down to the ground

And the nights were like searching for

Gated communities

That wouldn’t let me in.

If I don’t talk much

And if I talk too much,

Then I may never see you around.

If I act just right,

Then your friends may be in your ear,

So I know that I can’t win.

A woman who can

Put a value on her body

Can put a value on you.

Rule makers or trendsetters

Can dress the streets, defile it,

Then blame it on the truth.

The crowds teased me

Into a midnight drought

And my shoes were talking with a curfew.

Do you hate life like an eviction notice

On the same path

To a voting booth?

Don’t stop loving

When you’re hurting,

But it’s your life.

Don’t stop loving.

I think you love the streets.

Did you learn your lesson?

Can you afford a selfless love

Like colleges and universities

Made free

And listen to me

After I make mistakes

Instead of hearing and unspeaking?

Networking with tight-lipped communities

Are ongoing

Because there’s good in me.

Then you try to instill

The grudge in me

With consistent mockery while crying.

Like a mad parent says,

“You’re not allowed to date

Until you’re 21-years-old,

Some say “You’re not allowed

To leave the house until you’re married,”

And some don’t marry.

Some children leave and some die,

But they have one life to live,

And are told what they’re told.

Grownups are insulted by minors

And other grownups

Like it’s necessary.

Like a girlfriend begging you

For a business loan

When she can just have the money,

Maybe you will love me

When you need me,

Like when you want me to get into fights.

“I can’t wait to argue and compare

My life to other folks,

Just to disagree.

I can’t wait to look and sound tough,

Have the same favorite colors,

And hate my rights.”

Don’t stop loving

When you’re hurting,

But it’s your life.

Don’t stop loving.

I think you love the streets.

Did you learn your lesson?

While you laugh at the trauma

And tarnished careers,

The police are bringing you tears.

A setback, comeback, and payback

Should not be focused on

Because you’ll die one day.

Who cares about a goodbye

Because I stopped caring

Like your love really had fears.

Are you testing me by placing money

On the ground

When you’re not going to stay?

There was already miscommunication,

Then there’s a new slang word

In the use.

The truth is that I dislike disagreements

And can’t fathom

Overnight yelling.

I don’t want to take God’s name in vain

Or use profanity

Like it’s drug abuse.

I’d rather be uncool,

But not a cold person

With fictional storytelling.

Are you offended

If I’m too shy or too outgoing

Or am I defensive?

Don’t forfeit your future

And the whole shebang

Because the rap music is playing,

Influencing you to be promiscuous,

But if I tell the facts,

It’s subjective.

They call stopping life protection

And would rather have you silent

If you’re praying.

Don’t stop loving

When you’re hurting,

But it’s your life.

Don’t stop loving.

I think you love the streets.

Did you learn your lesson?

A Person Said

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©. Mar. 21, 2023. All Rights Reserved.

Ooh.

Ooh.

He said.

She said.

Ooh.

Ooh.

He said.

She said.

Watch your back.

Watch your back.

“Life’s my inspiration,” he said.

“Do you have a girlfriend,” she said.

He can get roses when he’s dead.

His meal ticket is straight ahead.

“Hahahahahaha,” she said.

He pretends she said what he said.

“You don’t have a girlfriend,” she said.

When he paints, it’s all in his head.

The brushstrokes makes him go to bed,

Looking around his surroundings.

Ooh.

Ooh.

He said.

She said.

Ooh.

Ooh.

He said.

She said.

Watch your back.

Watch your back.

“I want to sell my art,” he said.

“But you can’t sell your art,” she said.

Who wants to be a sleepyhead?

Anyone can paint and drop dead.

“The painting’s not finished,” he said.

“Anyone’s an artist,” she said.

Then he remembers what she said.

All of his work are painted red.

Abandoned like his featherbed.

The paint he wore smeared on her lips.

Ooh.

Ooh.

He said.

She said.

Ooh.

Ooh.

He said.

She said.

Watch your back.

Watch your back.

“College trained me for this,” he said.

“You’re a starving artist,” she said.”

A house painter said what she said.

Car paint jobs cost more than the dead.

The neighborhood knows what she said.

“Someone stole my idea,” he said.

“Think of a new idea,” she said.

He may give up on art instead.

“My lips have paint on them,” she said.

She kisses his canvas, then yells.

Ooh.

Ooh.

He said.

She said.

Ooh.

Ooh.

He said.

She said.

Watch your back.

Watch your back.

“I want to paint the world,” he said.

The whole wide world knows what she said.

What if he paints a newlywed,

Then skips the part where he breaks bread?

“The painting is unsold,” he said.

“And it’s a priceless waste,” she said.

This story’s based on what she said.

Maybe he’ll paint his big bald head.

“I don’t need a buyer” he said.

He spends time thinking ahead.

Rich and Famous

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©. Mar. 16, 2023. All Rights Reserved.

If I was rich and famous,

Would I remain rich and famous?

Would I be a promising philanthropist

From peer pressure?

Here’s a lecture about

Why I’m not jealous of this fungus.

This distasteful destiny

That’s pursued like an inspector

By millions of fans where babies

Learn my name before their own

And the elderly will

Even listen to me for advice.

I’d rather be disowned by this washed-up

World because I’m grown.

I don’t want to be well known

And my soul doesn’t have a price.

The cons of rolling the die just to not

Be murdered and cloned,

Just to not have my privacy invaded

With cameras,

And just to not be used

For amusement with a life postponed,

Is like smiling at the sunshine

For prolonged hours, just because.

Why sell my soul to the devil

In a world that has racism

Where they can assume anyone

Is racist and prejudice?

It has fascism, classism, and ableism,

Yet has activism.

Remove the sexism and ageism,

But most will reminisce.

The secrecy of subliminally

Promoting evil

While claiming that I don’t worship

The devil, would be insane.

The irony it would be,

But everyone is capable,

Just as much as being gullible

To gushing Mary Jane.

Because I worship Jesus,

I’ve been conditioned to be a prude.

I’m nonviolent and refuse

To tell a fib, so they hate me.

If I was a celebrity,

Then I’d be overly viewed,

And people would criticize me

Even when I feel lonely.

That moment when I’m not speaking

Loud enough, am I unheard?

The words I say may sound

Like something totally different.

All of these homonyms can make me

Not want to say a word.

Mistake gorilla for guerrilla

Like “You know what I meant.”

Would you forgive me

If I’m too shy to see wealth on a shelf?

Just so you know, I don’t think

I know how to be romantic

And I used to think

That I can love this all by myself.

All down the rabbit hole,

Could it be you who is my sidekick?

Call a child beautiful,

Then she’s in a tournament with yours.

For our sanity, it’s somewhat good

That we aren’t fruitful.

It’s great that we can focus on ourselves

While at superstores

And greater that malice is in the dirt,

But we can’t cuddle.

We are in war zones

With sovereign citizens and demons.

I can’t show you my heart right now

Because I’m protecting it.

I’ve been in time out my entire life

Away from my loved ones.

Distractions like saying “Cheese”

To the camera makes me quit.

When I bail myself out of your mouth

It can be your best day.

I am your future, but if you kiss me,

I could die.

The day you try, is the day you learn

That I live, but I pray.

Take my breath away from this Earth,

So that I am in the sky.

Take me to your pressure points,

But in the privacy of home.

Surely, I want your knees to buckle

When you think about me,

But they can easily buckle

From no matter where we roam.

If you don’t want the same,

It’s whatever without a maybe.

I could roam the bustling cities

And tease you about it.

I could tease the world

Like a director’s cut about the rich,

Foreshadowing the moment

That every woman will submit.

When you’re mad about your girlfriend,

I’ll turn her into a witch.

Pat yourself on the back

That I refuse to take advantage,

And that I refuse to indulge

In any form of magic.

I don’t want want worldly role models

Even if they pay homage

And I don’t want to be an understatement

Like a matchstick.

What would leave me unprepared

For the devil and his angels

Is practicing yoga on a luxury yacht

With side chicks.

Only if I knew who to trust,

But all I see are devils

And I do not need yoga

And I do not need politics.

Do I have to explain myself

To a bully who’s somber?

I’d rather be bonding

With a god-fearing friend who likes me,

Like a friend who will let me open

Their refrigerator.

I was born being hated,

So it’s okay if I’m lonely.