Saturday, July 23, 2011

R.I.L Amy

Amy Winehouse dies and I'm not supposed to cry? Her stories aided so many women in moving on from love, with love, celebration and mourning. She will be missed along with Aaliyah , Left Eye and the other women in music who left the world too early.

Amy brought the real that readied the world for Adele. The " you are not alone in this" while other singers told you to just go party. She provided the soundtrack to the tears that needed to escape and told you that it was okay to go back to black because things don't change overnight. Amy wasn't afraid of being dirty and gritty on the floor in the streets. That's how we felt sometimes, dirty and alone on the streets . She didn't allow mainstream media to turn her into " the perfect woman," she was always true to herself. She was a woman not afraid to shout her love to the world and hold on to it any way she could.

R.I.L Amy .. Rest In Love

Monday, March 8, 2010

When Gman Speaks

here with me
you will find the love you need
the love you seek
the love that love forgot
the love that loves with love
love with no alternative but to love
to love your love lovingly
love that will enhance love
beyond love’s known dimensions
love that will love you
when your love has failed you
love that only exists on a divine level
love that deities dreamed of loving
love that perfects love when love is perfect
more perfect than the love
Malcolm had for his people kinda love
more than Baldwin had for America kinda love
you know this love
but never knew of its love
never had a chance to know this love
because of lust disguised as love
that really despises love
but you can rise with love
and rise in love
and reside with love
here with me


Sunday, March 7, 2010


I live life as ME. If I am not seen as good enough for someone or something then they are not worth ME. I LIVE LIFE as ME....
No Persona Necessary.

My Heart

My heart,
so large...
often endures a great deal of punishment
at the hands of those who aren't careful with it.
The mishandling of my heart worries me, my heart aches...
it has been stabbed. It bleeds a fluid of the unfamiliar,
and with unfamiliarity comes confusion.
Confused beings with blank faces and good intentions.
Good intentions can only go so far because this unfamiliar
fluid that oozes from my heart needs care but most importantly understanding.
I understand...
BUT am in dire need for some support in carrying the heavy load that is...
My heart.


Thursday, January 28, 2010


sleep is only a step in to a room with no walls
sleep is only a court with every possibility and no ball
fall or no fall sleep is inevitable
sleep is the chemical that makes our food for thought edible
sugar on vegetable
its melts our minds and drips them in to stencils
mold them in to emotions of the mental
it will rejuvenate and recuperate
radiate and illuminate
opaque, pallid, distinctively lavished colors that manage to swallow our dreams
sleep writes the book with closed seams
engraved with utlra violet beams
and every soul that screams as a team
to redeem the malfunction of being awake
to quake the earth with bad decisions and rake the lawn of the good vision
make life incisions with precisions
for everyone to listen...

sleep is to feel .. and it shall be done after a meal...


Tuesday, January 19, 2010

The Funeral

The Funeral

I want to cry out my thoughts of you and let hate filled tears be sopped up by soft Kleenex.
I want it so that you are not be able to hurt me by not listening to me.
I want to be un-phased when I feel that you are taking me for a fool.
I want to blow emotions from my nose that harbor love for you.

I want to mourn

I want to mourn the death of us.
Of the physical but never quite got mental lust of us.
Of the playing around in secret, fun of us.
Of my dreams and your enjoyment.

I want to weep.

For those nights that I left you floating on clouds that just proved to be water vapor
and you can't stand on no damn water vapor.

For those days that I planned to hold you
and I put on my best draws
and sprayed my best perfume
and put lotion on my entire body,
including my ankles
I wanted to be prepared for any part that you would touch.

For those sweet dreams
and beautiful nightmares
where I would sing your name sweetly my guilty pleasure
but I'm leaving you.

I want to purge.

Purge myself of you
and the feeling that if I lost you I would have pain in my stomach from the emptiness.

Purge myself of you
and the feeling that if I lost you I would have pain in my stomach from the emptiness.

How is it possible for something that can be so beautiful make you act so damn ugly?

To walk past me with faces void of emotion and generic gestures,

who are you?

I shouldn't have believed you when you soup'ed me up, so now I purge.

Now I weep.
Now I mourn.
Now I cry out my thoughts of you.
in hopes that you would catch them.

Beka 10

Sunday, March 29, 2009


New sleeps with reminiscent sounds that frighten me.
Alone again with my thoughts as New thinks that He is awake.
I should already have a hobby in times like these.
Old used to tell me to sleep too.
Only tired of being alone I seek the affection of the one who shares quirks now kisses are perks,
He'd rather me than work, but I am still scared.
Scarred by Old and wanting New to rub cocoa butter on it,
gently to make the pain go away.

Tell me I'm not buggin.

Too emotional for casualties,
this just ain't me.
Carpel tunnel forces ending but thoughts are just beginning.

While New had
The Itis


Friday, January 23, 2009

Queens Bread

Toes cold like hoes on South Road,
Toes froze like the nose on hobos,
its crazzzzzy,
Rush hour so now I gotta squeeeeeeze through
these peepoole (people)
smellin like stale seafood,
worse in the summertime.
I surf all year round.

Oops I touched the pole.

Purell goes through hell every day,
every 20 minutes,
killing a germ in 15 seconds,
that's not fast enough.

Cuties can't see me, cuz I'm lost in the shuffle of these jokers,
6's and
crappy hands,
so I gotta bluff like I gotta man.
Still in my surfer stance,
pretending to be occupied so that they think my mind is elsewhere.

Why is it always the dude with the dreads that spots me?
figures we have something in common so continues to try and eye-lock me,

this shit is outray gouse

yo beat that bongo stop playin.

She said it's so cold in the D
well NYC aint much warmer,
searchin for a triple fat goose but its like I can't afford her.
I'm slippin...

now maneuver your way around these wild juveniles
cuz school's out
the animals are free.
Watch them claim streets
they will neglect after senior year,
but fuck that cuz for now they roam.

Give your seat to the elderly cuz they've been standing longer,
about 50 years longer,
so 5 stops won't be all that bad.

Get off.

Go home.

Lay down.