Poetry

NICKI  BY: LADY D Jan.4,2010

I WANT TO THANK YOU FOR TEXTING MY PHONE

TO TELL ME WHAT MY MAN DOES WHEN IM HOME ALONE

& I GUESS YOU THINK ITS CUTE TO TELL ME WHEN HE TALKS TO YOU

& HOW HE WANTS TO “HANG OUT” WHEN WE DON’T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO….

BUT WHAT YOU DON’T KNOW IS ALL THAT FREAKY SHIT YOU WERE DOING

WAS ME SEEING HOW  STUPID YOU ARE

(& SAGGING BREAST IS NOT MEANT FOR PICTURE TEXT TO BE SENT TO ANYONE!)

YOU SEE THAT JUVINILE BULL SHIT YOU DEAL WITH IS BECAUSE OF ME & THAT LACK OF ENERGY AS WELL

SEE THAT’S WHY HE TRYS TO PLAN  AHEAD BECAUSE AT THAT TIME HE WILL BE DRAINED OUT…DRY!

BUT WHAT I DON’T GET IS WHY YOU DON’T SEND TEXT ABOUT QUALITY TIME OR HOW MY MAN CALLS YOU DAILY ABOUT SPENDING HIS ENDS & HANGING OUT WITH YOUR FRIENDS OR EVEN BEING THERE TO WIPE AWAY TEARS & BEING THERE WHEN YOUR ILL!?!

WHERE’S THOSE TEXT? I KNOW I DIDN’T DELETE THEM…I KNOW!

YOU NEVER SENT THEM!!!

BUT IM SUPPOSE TO BE INTEMIDATED BY A FRESHLY MADE G.E.D. TURNED IM GUESSING

COMMUNITTY COLLEGE  BOUND DEGREE GHETTO CHILD THAT DOESN’T KNOW

SHE’S MESSING WITH A MEDICAL DEGREE THAT  CAN  SEE  THAT  YOU LIKE WHAT YOU SEE

& THOUGHT YOU STEP IN & SEE HOW YOU FIT INTO  MY EQUASTION

NOT VERY WELL YOU SEE CUZ THAT MAN YOU THOUGHT YOU GET IS STILL WITH ME & I DON’T GIVE HIM ENDS OR CLOTHES NOT EVEN SHOES TO PUT ON HIS FEET OR EVEN A PLACE TO  SLEEP

YOU TRY & YET HE STILL COMES BACK TO ME…SOOO WHAT DOES THAT TELL YOU?

IF YOUR PUSSY CANT GET HIM THREW YOUR DOOR & YOUR BRAIN CANT MAKE HIM WANT TO HEAR YOUR VOICE & YOUR FUNDS ISNT ENOUGH TO MAKE HIM LEAVE MY BED..HOW DO YOU FIGURE YOU GOT A TASTE OF MY LIFE?

LITTLE GIRL THE NEXT TIME YOU SEE HIM & HE GIVES YOU HIS SMILE & ASK YOU IF YOU GONNA “HANG OUT” WITH HIM

TRUST I WONT BE THERE & HE MIGHT SHOW UP BUT THAT RON DAY VOU YOU THINK YOU ABOUT TO DO…

ISNT WORTH THE SHIT HE WILL GO THROUGH  TO REGAIN THE LIFE HE HAD BEFORE HE DECIDED TO PLAY WITH YOU

& SINCE ALL YOU GOT IS A TEXT IM NOT SHAKING TO MY TOES BUT LAUGHING AS I LAY NEXT TO HIM AS WE READ YOUR JUVENILE SEDUCTION PLEE  &  CONTINUE TO PLAY WITH YOU TOGETHER TIL YOU GET THE COMMON SINCE TO GO FIND YOUR OWN MAN &  CLOSE YOUR LEGS YOUR GIVING PICTURE TEXT  A BAD IMAGE TO DISPLAY!

The Sun (Son)

There are times when we want to grow,
but we are locked in the rear view mirror screaming
and pointing north, relax mon, soon come.

What if there were 10,000 suns to warm your cheeks and we could contain the heat
decipher it in doses like small bits and pieces
like break beats decode the rays of the suns and turn them into love beams and shoot them across mountain tops and push them past the wind to loves that have gone m.i.a.
Because they got dough and changed,
or became estranged because they were only used to having one sun.
so they became like lightening in the sky and run, run,
across grass lands and such
from the son they run, run…
And due to their absence there daughters become lost    
but they continue to run, run….
Soon an eclipse rips at your heart and flows through the canals and chambers
of the love muscle that has bit off more then in can chew
so pressure makes your blood run, run…high on clouds
looking up you count them and there are nine
clicking Kodak fast your 3rd eye captures the picture
and in the glimpse of that damn rear view mirror you are still
shouting,
conscious only of 10,000 suns that have burned the remnants
of your emotions left blowing in the cruel ease of the wind…

Denise D. Cooper–August 4,2010