happy mother's day.

i love you mom.

fuh real.

she’s beautiful. 82 degrees outside, watching the sunset behind the mountain top, counting the colors of the sky kind of beautiful. perfect flower amidst the weeds. standing tall, determined to succeed. delicious aroma, my senses she does feed kind of beautiful. giving me chills. like the longest note of my favorite song. lingering long. i want her to replay in my head. i never skip over her, i put her on repeat instead until my hunger to sing her is fed. she’s beautiful. a beautiful mind, she reaches my mental. talks to me about what plagues our people. and we discuss the social movement. looking at the problems, hoping for improvement. she stimulates my thoughts and makes my eyes less blind to reality. she’s beautiful. masterpiece type beautiful. she belongs in a museum. paint hits the canvas creating an intricate work of art planned from the deepest part of the artists heart. each stroke of the brush adding to its beauty and she becomes increasingly valuable with time. she’s beautiful. too beautiful for this rhyme. she’s beautiful.

twinkle twinkle.

every night i look into the sky and wish for a soul mate. / i wish on the stars that my tears she would erase. / i wish to be the reason for the smile on her face. / i don't wish for perfection; i wish for a connection. / someone to understand every inflection in my voice. / i wish for her to provide me some direction. / i don't wish to be swept off my feet. / the tangible forms of expression don't appeal to me. / instead i wish to find someone with whom my soul agrees. / i wish to be the only one her eyes see. / due to my past, my heart still needs mending, so i wish for a comfortable now and not a happy ending. / i'd be pretending if i said i never dreamt of living a fairy tale, but i've learned that reality always will prevail. / i don't wish for perfection in every detail. / instead i wish for her to be the air that i inhale. / through with the past, i wish for something new. / my angels must have known that my happiness was long overdue / because after i did all of the wishing that i could do / they sent me you.

true story.

the frightening truth about desire

it's on but
i don't know
whether i want
to be
her, fuck her
or borrow
her clothes.

- daphne gottlieb.

please.

i'm coming home to you.
wear something see-through.
so i. can see. your heart.
- raphael saadiq.

comfort.

we're on the same wave length. he and i. amused by massive amounts of nothingness, but understanding it on a level that only we can. in the midst of laughter and clouds of smoke, he said "i don't even know what we're laughing at. it's just..everything." i agreed. the culmination of our lifted mind-frames and the comfort of being in each other's company made that moment so perfect.

karma.

i recently reconnected with a girl i was good friends with in middle school. i thought she was the shit. she was gorgeous. got all of the guys. dressed immaculately. etc. we were extremely close in 7th and 8th grade, but ended up parting ways after our middle school graduation and ended up at different high schools.

following our high school graduation, not too long after i gave birth to my daughter, i found out that she slept with my dbbd (dead-beat baby daddy). i never confronted her about it, partially because i was in denial and also because i was a chicken shit. anyway, that's beside the point.

so she found me via facebook and get this...she's a friggin' jesus freak now. like, reborn, bathed in the blood of the fathersonholyghostwhatever and all that jazz. silly rabbit. organized religion is for mindless sheep.

oh and the best part: on her fb page, she said that her favorite store is ross.

ha!

oh, and ps. lo siento if i offended anyone with my views about organized religion. whatever floats your boat is fine with me.

truth.

she said she loves my body. she said it reminds her of the earth. reminds her of the struggle. reminds her of life. the curve of my hips keeps her guessing. like the curves of the road leading up to the mountain top, they keep her on her toes. she said my stomach was stretched by the gods to give life to an angel. and the marks that were left are a constant reminder of the shared maternal experience that connects the stone age to the slavery days to the present. the shape of my breasts. the arch of my back, like the peaks and valleys of life. she looked me in my eyes and said she loves my body. i smiled, and said "marry me."

intangible.

disclaimer: it's long, but this shit is the shit. in a culture of 140 characters, our attention spans are diminishing. suck it up and read people. enjoy.

I - i'm at a museum
staring at this masterpiece
studying the details of its structure
examining the intricacies of this eighth wonder
wishing i could have sat at the feet of the Artist
as She carefully picked the materials She needed to create
mentally documenting every intention - every mistake
knowing that it is the errors that make this work of art so unique
perfect for me.

II - i want to
grab hold of this
beauty.
place it on my mantle
so that i alone can witness it on a daily basis
so that i can spend my time delving deeper
into the complexities of its structure.
i want to be selfish
i want it for me and me alone
i am
fighting the urge to grab hold of this thing
the way that it has grabbed ahold of me
captured my attention
stolen my focus
engrossed my mind.
but yet and still
i am at this museum.

III - you remain untouchable
we are separated by a glass barrier
impenetrable and solid
between us is a velvet rope of the past
yours. mine. ours.
behind me is your security guard
watching my every move
making sure that i don't get too close
you are safe. protected. guarded.
untouchable.
emotionless - like
sex without kissing -
you stare back at me.
acknowledging my infatuation
but not reciprocating.
i am in love with a statue.

IV - so i remain a passerby
i long for the time that
i spend in your presence
and as i walk away
i anticipate our next encounter.
knowing
that one day
your security guard will turn away
and i will be able to touch you
the way that you have touched me.
one day
the stone will turn to flesh
and your heart will start to beat again
your emotions will become known.
one day
you will allow me to
break the glass that surrounds you
and
cross the rope that separates us.
until then
i remain a spectator
to the untouchable beauty that is
you.

quite honestly

i have nothing interesting to say right now, but i feel compelled to write an intro post of sorts. so here it goes:

i'm starting this new blog in hopes of releasing my mental on a new forum, and i'm hoping that blogger can be my new place of residence. i wasn't fond of where my last blog was going (no where) so i'm starting over. i want this blog to be a means of verbal vomitting all of these poems/lines/thoughts/words that float around in my head and get lost in a cloud of smoke.

stay tuned if you want. if not, that's fine too. i'll be back when i'm feeling interesting.