Morning

A rooster's call
Broke through my dreams
At the wee hours of
The morning and ripped
Me out.

It left me blinking
To see the LED
Numbers of my alarm
Clock that was
Deprived of the
Duty of ending my
Slumber.

Three minutes to
Spare. Three minutes
Shy of the blaring
Beep, beep, beep,
Or was it
Beep, bip, beeeep?

Whatever it was,
I waited patiently
For it to deliver
A death blow
To my nocturnal
Mega nap.

And just as I grew
Tired of a minute
Turning into another,
My eyes were shut
And dreams creeped
Into the empty spaces
Of my mind.

Only to be rudely
Shown the door by
The insistent
Beep, beep, beep,
(Or was it
Beep, bip, Beeeep?)
Of my alarm clock.

With a groan,
I join the masses
To another day
On the hamster wheel
Of life.

Swallow Me Whole

Let the sun
Swallow me whole
And spit me out
Into a new consciousness.

I felt cold today,
As I did yesterday,
And now all I want
Is the warmth of
The sun.

The quiet explosions
Emanating heat,
Light, visions of
What is possible,
Everything is possible.

Shivering in the night
Of my ignorance,
My fears, my doubts,
My disbeliefs of what
I am capable of,
I wait for the
Sun to rise.

And it rises,
But not everyday
Do I feel the warmth
Of this sun, not
Everyday do I
Bask in the light,
In the knowing.

Still I await
The sunrise, still
I seek the knowing.
Still I seek
To be the child
Of the sun.

Ever warm.
Ever living within the light.
Ever knowing that
Everything is possible.

Let the sun
Swallow me whole
And spit me out
Into a new consciousness.


Image Credit: Imageback

One Cent, One Man

A five cent
Ain't worth shit,
But it's worth
More than a two cent.

A two cent
Ain't worth shit,
But it's worth
More than a one cent.

A one cent
Ain't worth shit
But it's worth
More than....
Nothing?

But if I collected
Them all, building them
Higher than a pyramid
I might be able
To by something
Decent, something
Valuable.

One cent is pretty much
Nothing, but if
I have five hundred
Of them I can
Buy myself a drink.

A single many may
Not effect change
But a thousand men
Can turn the tide,
A million men can
Demand change.

A Once cent may
Not be worth
Anything but I'll
Keep it and add
It to the others
In my possession.


Image Credit: KRMG

A Drop of Coffee

I spilled coffee
In my bath.

I watched as the
Brown-black liquid
Dissolved into nothing.

I wanted to
Laugh, I wanted
To cry as I
Could not identify
The emotion I
Felt from this
Liquid epiphany.

One drop of blood
Determined a man's
Race, yet one, even
Two, drops of coffee
Did not make my
Bath water fit for
Consumption.

A beat or two later,
Laughter did tumble
Up and out of my
Lips.

Then again,
Blood is thicker
Than water,
And the blood,
So recently removed from
The land from which all
Humanity emerged,
Is powerful stuff.

Powerful enough
To make one drop
Sufficient for a race
To claim a man
And determine his destiny.

A destiny where he
Is judged by the acts
Of his peers
Rather than the
Strength and diversity
Of his character.

A destiny where
Limitations are placed
On him by those
Inside and outside
Of his society.

A destiny where
He has to be
Extraordinary to be
Equal to another
Race's Ordinary.

I looked down
At the spot
Where the coffee
Fell, my raucous
Laughter fading
Into a chuckle.

I took a sip
Of my coffee.
Strong coffee
Always brought
Heavy thoughts.


Image Credit: FWallpapers

Untitled

I placed my
Sexuality on
A pine table,
Twisting it this
Way and that
Until it reflected
The light coming in
From the open
Kitchen window.

Once satisfied
With its placement
I squinted at it,
Trying to decide
What next to do
With it.

Should I place
It on the center
Table of my front
Romm, displayed
For all to see,
All who enter
My home, be they
Friend or foe,
Lover or the man
Who has come
To fix the
Faulty heater.

Or should I hide
It away in my
Frilly things drawer
Next to my rabbit
And my whip,
A secret I share
With a lover
Who in turn shares
His with me.

I am not
Ashamed of it,
My sexuality,
But I have
No desire to
Speak of it
Like the newly
Bought gadget,
Expounding on the
Features, most
Of which I will
Never use.

After much thought,
I picked it up
And made my way
To my bed chamber.
Instead of placing
It among my frilly
And kinky things,
I placed my
Sexuality on my
Bedside table,
At the base of
My lamp.

A fitting place
For such an
Exquisite thing,
Not hidden away
Nor in the open
To be pawed by
Undeserving eyes.

I placed my
Sexuality where
It truly belonged
In the one place
Where only trusted people
May enter.


Also check out my blog post, Becoming Venus - An Introduction
Pic

This Place

Let us meet in this place,
Let us travel from
Here and there and
Meet in this place where
The light always seem to shine,
Where another dollar is there
To be made.

Let us meet in this place
Where we shrug off our home towns,
Home countries, home continents,
As though they were worn jackets
Being replaced with more
Fashionable ones, more fitting
For this place.

Let us meet in this place,
Perhaps in some obscure corner,
In a book store or buying groceries,
Wondering when or if to leave
This place. Then we meet and
This place shows promise again.

Let us meet in this place,
Me from here and
You from there and
Somehow we find each other
In the multitude of people,
Somehow we find the hand
That fits perfectly in ours.

Let us meet in this place,
But I left too soon, sinking
Into the azure waters, letting
The sun toast my brown skin
Black. I left before
I even came close to meeting
You.

Let us meet in this place
Becasue it was the only place
We were ever true to who
We are, to who we could be,
Where our masks were crushed
Under foot, leaving vulnerable
Beings trying to find the person
We could love, the person
Within our
selves.

Let us meet in this place
Because we could never
Meet in another.

image

A Day To Remember

source

I saw tomorrow
Through the wispy
Clouds of today
And every time
I reached forward
To grasp it,
It dissolved
Into today.

That is
Until the day
I met Jessop,
A string bean
Of a man
Who wasted
Neither words
Nor penny.

A man who's
Deeds spoke
Louder and coarser
Than he could even
With lips and tongues.

In simple words
He told me
That tomorrow
Was never mine
To have.

In his estimation,
Tomorrow didn't exist
But a concept
In the minds of men
Who have never
Come to terms with
Today.

I scoffed at
His words as
Nothing more than
His personal,
Skewed view
Of the world.

Then I got
To thinking,
Which led me
To figuring that
Part of what
Jessop said made
Some kinda sense.

Tomorrow will never
Be had. I will
Never feel tomorrow's
Sun on my skin.

Even if tomorrow came,
It would not be
Called tomorrow,
It will be today.

No matter
How I turn it,
I can only control
Today.

So I put aside
My desire for tomorrow,
I rolled up my sleeves
And got to work
On today,
This day and
When the next comes,
I will work on
That, too.

I now work
On making today
A good day,
A day to remember.