I am Trayvon Martin

I’m sick and tired of waiting on Dr King’s dream

48 years later 

and this nation still has not lived up to its creed

I’m ready to wake up with a Malcolm X scheme

To turn this All America Dream into a nightmare.

 

You mean to tell me the pigment of my skin is still relevant

Even after interracial relationships have brought down segregated doors

Even after Lincoln’s emancipation proclamation

Even after my ancestors gave you blood, sweat, and tears

Our skin color is still relevant

 

The color of my skin frightens you that much?

 

So I should remain uncomfortable and cold

To steer clear of being riddled with bullet holes

due to my hooded clothes?

 

No Fuck that 

 

I will forever remain uncomfortable and cold

Laid to rest riddled with bullet holes 

For an ice tea, skittles, and my hooded clothes

 

Nah 

 

The fact my skin possesses the power and ability to evoke action

Provokes a human to become inhumane

To call me names and stereotype me because I’m more humane

Who’s to blame?

Not us 

My ancestors were dragged here

Slaved and planked here 

To pull together a country which remains ignorant to justice for all

 

I am Trayvon

Addiction

Never once before was I a user

but in his good graces he laced me with a high

A high I tried to forget but she kept calling me

Weak I am, as she’s injected into me through this hypodermic needled

called life

The high of all highs but I can never forget my first hit

 

See I learned of her when the sun was at its brightest

When the suns rays beamed and tanned our African skin

the ocean’s water cheered us on

As the night fell so did our walls of hesitation

As our souls met

our physicals remained a step ahead

as our lips and fingertips caressed

Where she became my fingerprints and  imbedded in my speech

forever amongst my tongue

to remain in my vocabulary in my mental dictionary right next to love

Racing across her skin

as the sensation and satisfaction compete

starting at my fingertips to her heart then back to my mental

The part of my brain that stimulates

My toes to curl

Making my heart skip a beat

I gasp for air because my mind fights

but she the high has already won

 

I was never once a user

but the high she gave I never once wants to come down

In her smile I lose myself

like a child who let their balloon go

or a caged bird set free amongst the clouds

preferably #9

Sometimes I wish she was mine

to wine and dine

show her things that time may not permit

Where I can exceed time’s limitation with quality

without bodily

But affection

love

The beginning of her days with words mirroring her perfection

 

I was never once a user

but her as my drug Im the abuser because Im addicted

Happy Thanksgiving

Listening to the sound she makes

As I spread her legs and dive in for that first taste

Laying my body parallel to the bed

As the goose bumps begin to fill her legs

She begins to moist

I pry open her coochie lips with my mouth

No hands

Like a nut cracker

Stretching my tongue deeper

Grabbing her ass

She grabs my head

Hips thrusting

Pulling me further into her

She moans “im about to nut”

But wait I haven’t given her the rest of me

See we plank 69 nakedly

She’s sucking and licking me

The sounds she makes are just icing on the cake

as the feeling is like no other

Excitedly she turns and toots her booty towards me

and just like a horseback rider

I mount er

She’s coming towards me

Im coming towards her

and we meet at the top her vaginal wall

She jumps then looks back

And I can tell from the bite on her lip,

the look in her eyes

The arch in her back

She likes that

So I place my right hand on her right shoulder

The left on her left side

Right between her rib and hip

I commence to giving her the dick

Hard and harder

Pussy spitin

Ass clappin

Hair pullin

Ass smacking

Bodies sweatin

Dripping on her back

From the back I give that ass another smack

She throws it back

I give it back

She hesitates then takes it….the dick

Trembling

and stumbling over her words

I make out “the pussy is yours “

She cums

I cums

Then she collapses down and says HAPPY THANKSGIVING

Blind leading the Blind

In my mind

My thoughts confuse my physical being

Sometimes thinking so deeply

Vividly isn’t as clear as it seems, seemingly the sharpness

Cuts through the photograph of the portraits I proclaim to paint

Going from right to left

Verbally the words doesn’t seem right

With a baby mom who’s eye is on me

but her flesh rests on a table

Best…that’s a decision that’s laid to rest…mortally

Was this a test?

Questions unanswered

Like hieroglyphs etched in the walls of ancient Egypt

Is this really what they meant?

How many Gods existed above the earth’s equator?

BC

Questioning treason

A conspiracy in contradiction

Where one’s beliefs change like the seasons

For reasons in the mind

Confusing by the signs

My physical being is blind

In offering of my soul

I can pray all day and thank you for my many blessings

Through the trials and tribulations

testing after testing’s

I lay and waking to his good gracing

But I come empty handing

I can not figure an offering or a tide

for my soul which you seen unfold

unravel and bedazzled with glitter and gold

A soul who’s mind wonders of the truth you told

No, I’m not doubting you

But some where between both ears

your servant’s words run bare there

I have no offering for this soul

Am I fool in seeking the voice from which you speak?

empty handedly looking for acceptance and peace

with a fatherly kiss 

on cheek and cheek

 

My soul comes in whole

Its already yours

The story is already told

What do you give a God for something he already owns?

The decisions and mistakes that unfold

You the forgiving God already adjusted the halo

dusted the wings and lifted the angle’s head again

But I remain empty handed With this soul of yours

On your clock til it stops

I remain empty handed

In a continued search for an offering for my soul 

HOW TO BE A MAN

No book, test, or quizzes can teach me how to be a man

The clock is ticking for me to open my eyes and realize

The hair on my privates and the length my nuts hang

doesn’t make me man

The clock is ticking for me to stand on my own 2 feet

Not depending on dad because the funds in my account are deplete

 

For one day dad’s clock will stop

ticking and toc

For one day death will dance with my father

as he looks over to say “you’re the man son”

So now I have to fill these shoes, being next in line

I have to step to plate

and the pressure is on

I have to be this man salvaged from a mixture of sperm

A fetus who out grew the comfort zone of the uterus

From a boy who’s only claim to fame was how many chicks he’s slain

HOW TO BE A MAN

 

Dad you showed me so many things good and the bad

Dad you taught me how to pee standing up

You raised me past the secrets hidden for years

You beat my ass when I thought I was man enough

This was you showing me how to be a man all along

See raising us was not you being a man but a father

You could have been left but instead

You remained and maintained this rank among the fake

Showing us to be better men

But I’m not ready

I’m not sure if I can be the man you are

I’m not ready to do this without you

See your my right hand man

and my left hand can’t do it without you

You and I

Between you, you, and you

I wish I didn’t’ have to choose.

See I want my cake and to eat it too

but I know I with you I would have to share.

Being as selfish as I am, I couldn’t bare

to see a specimen so rare dare with temptation

in another man, who’s 3rd eye may reach far past mine.

I know it’s not fair but neither is

Life

Love

and the judicial system

So I choose you

Because in your eyes

They twinkle when you use that 4 letter word

“Fuck you”

When I know it’s in between the lines there

“I love you”

See around the time I was digging you out

You moaning

You screaming

Me panting like a dog who just had his morning walk

I birthed in you

Not physically

But mentally, emotional

reborning myself among your DNA

Some call it sex but

It’s me giving myself to you

You damaged as a silent pond

Where pebbles thrown ripple effects

Then the waters gets calm

but the pebbles still remains.

And I can see them as I look into you

Seeing a reflection of myself in you

wearing your pain

And you looking back

seeing yourself in me

Between you, you, and you

I wish I didn’t have to choose

because of your multiple personalities

and damaged mind frame

Our Kodak moments remains just moments

unframed

Sweetest Hangover

there is a remedy

an antidote

a cure

but I don’t want it

I wanna suffer from her poison

lush off her alcoholic mix of emotion

straight with no chaser

as I drink to the point where my saliva

fills my mouth

my stomach tightens

my world begins to spin….around

as she becomes my words slurred

barely able to pronounce my own name

overdosing on this feeling

I take another shot

to heighten this feeling found in no other

Her….my favorite drink

trying to reach away from this feeling im feeling

in the early morn

Where my head bangs

loss of appetite

and my stomach remains unstable

there is a remedy

an antidote

a cure

but I don’t want it

just turn the music and lights down

close the blinds

and let me suffer in my mind

as she exits my bed

“til next time she says”

as she shuts the door

behind her left and right legs

my sweetest hangover

Her Smile

Looking at her frown

I wonder if my touch could brighten up her days

I wish I could make like the moon

and shine across the sky for the perfect night.

There is no prince in my charm

There is no song I can sing

that’ll have her part lips

and appreciate the joy I sing

Or a caress like silk

Delight….ful enough

That’ll change the color on her mood ring

from dark to light

Yet there is no remedy for the pain she endured

that I can bring forth to offer her

No bandage I can place on her scars

torn

scorn

she’s a woman

like a glass half full

yet still empty

With the opportunity one could pour more

filling that void

All I want is for her to smile

Separating her from the spread of her legs

Her demeanor seems a tad bit meaner

because of how they treat her

I wish I could sit her down

rearrange her face with a gentle touch

that’ll sacrifice the night of lust

because we have a chemistry that’ll make the blackest of man blush

Yes….

there it is

the smile I’ve been waiting for

No need to rush I’m just getting to know you minus the lust…..for your smile

3 Black Women

Her color doesn’t exist

Her breasts and ass will do the trick

her hair gets pulled and mangled

while placed on all fours

as she persists

not realizing this isn’t a gift

Hoping to fit in his life; his wife

What does he call her

Her name is BITCH

She has embraced her liabilities

She was once a virgin long ago

going to church faithfully

but now the Dick is all she knows

Between two worlds

she Belongs

Her Daddy could’ve been black or white

but all she knows is he’s gone

He forced her to fill a void

mentally, emotionally, physically

As she called THEM

Daddy…Daddy

One she never had

Materialized, popping tags

tricked out in life because she felt men wasn’t shit

What did they call her

Her name was TRICK

Her skin color doesn’t exist

Hair is just fine

Placed in a world that belittled  her existence

she remains strong

Strong enough to take the pain

inflicted

Again and again

Birthing children

again and again

With a man whose manners respects her throne

What do they caller her

Her name is QUEEN