kisses you make them soft and sweet
like flowers falling at her feet
lips quiver with the building heat
fill her up and pour her out
sun that shines the morning after
brimming over with recent laughter
she'd tell you she loved you if you asked her
fill her up and pour her out
it's not that all the feelings had
infected the heart and driven it mad
it's not that love had made her sad
love her past the breaking point
once in a while now and again
she slips and smiling calls you friend
deeper with each night you spend
love her past the breaking point
heat her quick and raw her nearer still
melting limbs upon your will
broken heart whose wounds are filled
love her fast and don't let go
swirling passion toughts are gone
like missing lyrics from a song
things she hasn't felt for so long
love her fast and don't let go
revisting your smell anew
fresh likes leaves of summer dew
making blood pulse strong and true
love her fast and don't let go
fill me up and pour me out, love me past the breaking point
love me fast and don't let go
ask me once and then you'll know...
4/10/2007
4/09/2007
but it's the silence
there are the times when it speaks so true
speaks of what it is that the "real" honestly desires
not the false bravado of a well spoken player
no the voice the love fearing childish nay sayer
not that one all consuming kiss, that managed to sway her
back to where she came from
but for the silence
i would not have a moment to speak out loud
and the voice brings forth an honesty undeniable
but the sound creates an urge to pull within
all the full encompassing doubts laiden with sin
with gold sweetened kisses my bed has had you in
Lord i forgot where i came from
oh it's the silence
that allows she to be me
creates comfort despite tesion
who lets her own heart just to see
the wealth of beauty despite the poverty of violence
where society has us all trapped
tragedy spills out rivers of yearning to the concrete
where envrionmental catastophy is always God's angry thunder clap
whispers through the wind forever screaming your name in reverence
the speaker would not have one moment of sanity gained
oh but for the silence
there are the times when it speaks so true
speaks of what it is that the "real" honestly desires
not the false bravado of a well spoken player
no the voice the love fearing childish nay sayer
not that one all consuming kiss, that managed to sway her
back to where she came from
but for the silence
i would not have a moment to speak out loud
and the voice brings forth an honesty undeniable
but the sound creates an urge to pull within
all the full encompassing doubts laiden with sin
with gold sweetened kisses my bed has had you in
Lord i forgot where i came from
oh it's the silence
that allows she to be me
creates comfort despite tesion
who lets her own heart just to see
the wealth of beauty despite the poverty of violence
where society has us all trapped
tragedy spills out rivers of yearning to the concrete
where envrionmental catastophy is always God's angry thunder clap
whispers through the wind forever screaming your name in reverence
the speaker would not have one moment of sanity gained
oh but for the silence
4/02/2007
long time comin'
that's right. 7 years too long baby.
time to "run into the arms of fate", as my friend used to say in her melodramatic pre teen phase. seems everything was a big deal back then, and i always thought she was being so over the top, but secretly i agreed with her.
secretly i still do, but there's no one left to talk about it. not even her.
if she was here i'd get high and catch up, tell her that she was right.
now, i try to talk to other people like that and they don't get it, so i don't bother.
try to talk some deep shit to the little children out here they look at you like you got two heads.
i should specify: it's the male of the species i refer to as child.
that's for the ones out her in the snow belt at least, i wouldn't say the same at all for the juice in tarana; juice flows freely out there. like water for chocolate.
here is more like snow for vanilla, it doesn't carry with the same appeal.
am i that prejudice against men of my "own colour"
i should not aline myself against them with such a brutal attitude, but what have any of them really done for me. there are but a few who i'd love to see suffer at my own hands.
wow that's evil, though not in comparison to the things i think about yet neglect to utter...
so is that why i am here, singular, on this computer.
why am i not making money on the way home from making money.
work was not mentally possible this aft, but what was.
i wasn't waitin' to exhale, nor was i holdin it in
though everyone's failed, i'm not throwin the towel in
got me wrapped in the shadows, wonderin just where you've been
got me wrapped in your beauty, and quickly giving in
broken ramblings due to stress overload, they should be happy i haven't gone postal yet over all this shit. well, me going postal would be nothing like anyone has ever seen-so average people wouldn't notice.
me going postal would end up in red, in places people wouldn't look, for people who don't want to be found.
no one should ever want to witness what me going postal looks like.
so many changes i want to make happen, and so many conflicting directions those chanegs pull me in.
if i had a car i'd be goin on a drive every night to the middle of nowhere to scream.
yea, i know, doesn't sound like words coming from someone who's too mentally healthy.
so what. who the fuck am i trying to impress.
it's like this: i'm supposed to be this do everything, clean everything, be friends with everyone, go to work and church and be a good woman and mother. yea. not feelin it.
i'm so overwhelmed with everything, and as hard as i try to kick it straight it's never enough and i feel trapped sometimes, but there are ways out.
long gone are the days that i thought i would meet some knight in shining armour, and yes i am being melodramatic, but these tiems in my life are cause for dramatics.
and why would i need to have a man come and whisk me away to be taken care of.
i can take care of myself. and not in that women's lib tryin to proove something bullshit.
a man is never something any of us need, it's want.
we WANT them to take care of us, WANT them to pay bills, WANT them to babysitt so we can go out with our girlfriends-draw us a bubble bath and give us backs rubs, and other lovely details.
after being beaten down and treated like shit, worked our asses off with virtually no pay
damnit! we DESERVE to be taken care of-you think we'd be demanding it, but we're not. we still let them cheat on us, still let them smoke all our weed, eat our food and make us accept all those collect calls while they're in jail-we don't ask them for anything but respect in return. well, i'm not looking for respect.
(wow i sound like as much of a card carrying stereotype as the men i fuck, i mean date.
and i'm not at that point yet)
i haven't proven myself TO myself yet.
it's most inportant to me right now, to get my life organized, to get back to where i belong, and to make as much money as possible along the way.
if they're not making money, or taking me to the place where i'm gonna make my money, i don't want any part of it.
and i can't say that i've ever felt like this before. it was all about the feeling, the sensuality. the sexuality.
sex isn't important. it's nice, and it can be sooo much fun, but it's really not important. the only time sex was important was when mj was concieved.
this icy chill does take a toll on your mind though. it makes you jaded, and i've been jaded before, smoothed the chip on my shoulder and gone on to be just fine, but things have changed.
i decided, instead of waiting for life to happen to me, i'd rather happen to it.
boy does that make me sound like i'm spirited and in control.
but i'm not.
i act like i've got it all figured out.
but i don't.
can't let anymore tears fall
keep away from the bar brawls
and every time that brother calls
my voice gets small...
off to delight in green pleasures, more depressing rants later.
time to "run into the arms of fate", as my friend used to say in her melodramatic pre teen phase. seems everything was a big deal back then, and i always thought she was being so over the top, but secretly i agreed with her.
secretly i still do, but there's no one left to talk about it. not even her.
if she was here i'd get high and catch up, tell her that she was right.
now, i try to talk to other people like that and they don't get it, so i don't bother.
try to talk some deep shit to the little children out here they look at you like you got two heads.
i should specify: it's the male of the species i refer to as child.
that's for the ones out her in the snow belt at least, i wouldn't say the same at all for the juice in tarana; juice flows freely out there. like water for chocolate.
here is more like snow for vanilla, it doesn't carry with the same appeal.
am i that prejudice against men of my "own colour"
i should not aline myself against them with such a brutal attitude, but what have any of them really done for me. there are but a few who i'd love to see suffer at my own hands.
wow that's evil, though not in comparison to the things i think about yet neglect to utter...
so is that why i am here, singular, on this computer.
why am i not making money on the way home from making money.
work was not mentally possible this aft, but what was.
i wasn't waitin' to exhale, nor was i holdin it in
though everyone's failed, i'm not throwin the towel in
got me wrapped in the shadows, wonderin just where you've been
got me wrapped in your beauty, and quickly giving in
broken ramblings due to stress overload, they should be happy i haven't gone postal yet over all this shit. well, me going postal would be nothing like anyone has ever seen-so average people wouldn't notice.
me going postal would end up in red, in places people wouldn't look, for people who don't want to be found.
no one should ever want to witness what me going postal looks like.
so many changes i want to make happen, and so many conflicting directions those chanegs pull me in.
if i had a car i'd be goin on a drive every night to the middle of nowhere to scream.
yea, i know, doesn't sound like words coming from someone who's too mentally healthy.
so what. who the fuck am i trying to impress.
it's like this: i'm supposed to be this do everything, clean everything, be friends with everyone, go to work and church and be a good woman and mother. yea. not feelin it.
i'm so overwhelmed with everything, and as hard as i try to kick it straight it's never enough and i feel trapped sometimes, but there are ways out.
long gone are the days that i thought i would meet some knight in shining armour, and yes i am being melodramatic, but these tiems in my life are cause for dramatics.
and why would i need to have a man come and whisk me away to be taken care of.
i can take care of myself. and not in that women's lib tryin to proove something bullshit.
a man is never something any of us need, it's want.
we WANT them to take care of us, WANT them to pay bills, WANT them to babysitt so we can go out with our girlfriends-draw us a bubble bath and give us backs rubs, and other lovely details.
after being beaten down and treated like shit, worked our asses off with virtually no pay
damnit! we DESERVE to be taken care of-you think we'd be demanding it, but we're not. we still let them cheat on us, still let them smoke all our weed, eat our food and make us accept all those collect calls while they're in jail-we don't ask them for anything but respect in return. well, i'm not looking for respect.
(wow i sound like as much of a card carrying stereotype as the men i fuck, i mean date.
and i'm not at that point yet)
i haven't proven myself TO myself yet.
it's most inportant to me right now, to get my life organized, to get back to where i belong, and to make as much money as possible along the way.
if they're not making money, or taking me to the place where i'm gonna make my money, i don't want any part of it.
and i can't say that i've ever felt like this before. it was all about the feeling, the sensuality. the sexuality.
sex isn't important. it's nice, and it can be sooo much fun, but it's really not important. the only time sex was important was when mj was concieved.
this icy chill does take a toll on your mind though. it makes you jaded, and i've been jaded before, smoothed the chip on my shoulder and gone on to be just fine, but things have changed.
i decided, instead of waiting for life to happen to me, i'd rather happen to it.
boy does that make me sound like i'm spirited and in control.
but i'm not.
i act like i've got it all figured out.
but i don't.
can't let anymore tears fall
keep away from the bar brawls
and every time that brother calls
my voice gets small...
off to delight in green pleasures, more depressing rants later.
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