......[o_o]......

chapter un-numbered, unfinished

2008-03-14T06:32:00.000-07:00

[march.14.2008.6:10am]

"to have a craving, appetite or great desire for."
-poetry.com

it weighed heavy on my mind, brought me physical discomfort. it was the cause to my fidgeting; the double shots of expressos I drank didn't ease my agitation.

attention flocked to it by the masses. those who I rarely spoke to soon found themselves finding meaningless lures to engage in conversation with me. I took their bait. gave them the chance to remind me once more of the reality I've foolishly mistaken for as pure fantasy. co-workers from other departments somehow made her or his way to the floor I worked on. they'd pass me by looking at the papers hidden in their manila folders, pretending to be reading so intently, reading as if the truth they wrote for me was written on the surface.

the stares from the drama thirsty hyenas I worked with and the silent disapproval of the lions I worked for burned the white hot existence of the mistakes I made which resulted in me feeling like a wounded gazelle. my fall from grace had spilled into my professional life and this is when I recognized that lust had me in a chokehold.

I made my runs to the copy machine and I didn't have to force the urgency; my Starbucks intake was more than my usual so I displayed more than a little pep in my step. good thing I was known for my efficientcy at work so the extra speed I displayed in my gait seemed as if I was concerned with the productivity of the company.

I whisked by my acquaintance Olivia's office. she was a woman whom I had grown secure enough with to engage in dialouge that consisted of more than what was bred in our workplace. her door was open and as I rounded the corner, my peripheral vision found her filing her nails as she always did, waiting for me to come by. I had no intentions on stopping to lend her my company; the fact that I mistook her keen ear for safety two years ago allowed me to realize one of my very first mistakes made on my laundry list I had full of them.

my feet pounded on the office's thin carpeting and the soles of my flats began to level with the floor. I soon reached the office door that belonged to me, I opened it and returned the heavy slab of hardwood into the framework of the doorway.

the leather seat embraced my five foot eight frame, molded me in its welcoming comfort. the cool sensation of cold leather never failed to soothe me until now. the chair I adored so much neglected to fondle the skin of the back of my knees. I exhaled as I remembered this chair was a gift from him.

thinking of him, reminding myself of his existence, brought me to relive sins stained on the surface of my desk as well as the sins that lived in the very leather of this seat, sins that were birthed even before the chair was ingeniously moved to live in my office. hell, I couldn't bring it home. it would've struck out as a sign. a large, black, leather sign; a breadcrumb in the trail to my gingerbread house.

it was a gift I told myself; the truth then told me that it was more accurately described as a trophy.

my mind was doing sprints, hurdles and long jumps as I began to watch the sleek phone that rested on the corner of my desk.

I needed to dial.

what would I say? would the expresso betray me into speeding up my confessions, the many I sleep with while next to him?

I didn't trust myself at that moment to be sharp, cunning, sly to lightly converse undetected while I prodded for any signs of new intelligence he might've gained. I still wanted to be predator yet I succumbed to be prey simultaneously; subjected myself to be prey to a wolf dressed in designer wolves clothing.

still, I needed to dial.

my gaze became glossed over and absentmindedly, my index finger and thumb looped around my source of stress, the well of my anxiety and the burden I reluctantly wore. I wanted to melt my fallacious being into the fiber of the seat. closing my eyes proved calming as I sat simulating my demise of lies, hearing myself admit actions that only are kept preserved in the darkness in which they were committed to being brought to manifest.

the shriek of the phone's ringing brought my chest muscles to tighten and my heart rate sped. instantly, my arm pits watered. regretfully, my vagina tingled. I outstretched my arm to lift the phone out of its cradle.

the shrieking stopped.

the grip I held to the phone was loose; I left slack to drop it from my ear if need be. I didn't greet the caller with salutations, nor did I ask who was on the other end. I didn't have to. the silence seeping through the speaker told me the identity of the dialer. the low undertones of his accented softspoken voice swarm into my eardrum and ensnared my weakness for the silk they spun.

I remained still, inhaling and exhaling controlled breaths. he'd have to begin before I could speak. having to force myself to talk with him strictly professionally over the phone was now very afflicting for this is how I failed to not fall in love with him.

this has been an excerpt from my genious.
Copyright © 2008 Char'Nae James

miss serpentine

2008-03-13T20:57:00.000-07:00

[march.13.2008.8:08pm]

"...the Serpent is chillingly lucid."
suzanne white

she effortlessly lies to fuel my fantasy; she silently slithers alongside my insecurities. she coils around secretcy to bring me comfort; she strikes to lay venemous kisses on my lips. my love for her is the field in which her underbelly glosses over; she never roots in my long blades of grass to lay her eggs. she's cold in her core and callused with scales. my fervent infatuation with her brings my blood to a boil; she melts all had will power to mute my ears to her hiss.

I love her yet she doesn't love me. not in the way I want her to, in the way I need her to. she isn't attached to me, but I'm rooted in her. the trance she seduces me into allows me to believe she's one hundred percent:
one hundred percent faithful.
one hundred percent truthful.
one hundred percent loyal.
one hundred percent interested.
one hundred percent my own,
but my heartache tells me I don't have her entirely, yet when she's in my grasp, I'm convinced heartache has told me lies.

I know the liar is the one who I've allowed to spiral around my senses, constricting my consciousness, poisoning my philosophy.

she suffers from her undying lust for the chase; she victimizes herself through stalking and seducing her unexpecting victims. she swallows men whole as she has swallowed me. ironic how she never savors the flavor of hearts long enough to taste them.

I suppose she couldn't help the alignments the celestial skies were in on the day she was born; she can't help this no more than I can help to love her.

miss serpentine she is.

this has been an exerpt from my genius.
Copyright © 2008 Char'Nae James

girls and dolls

2008-03-12T19:24:00.000-07:00

[march.12.2008.5:53pm]

"welcome to the dollhouse"
-danity kane

dolls were made, in my opinion, as tangible objects for the young developing mind[s] of the female gender to conform to her role in society.

you know, the role of domestication; rubbish if you ask me. rubbish due to part of my feminism and part common sense.

but,
I remember my first doll...

I was eight. she was a "Kenya" doll. I doubt was even made in the country of Kenya, but I loved her. she was equipped with the faux kente cloth. the long and thick synthetic hair; she had brown skin like mine and the cutest golden slippers were painted onto her feet.

I can't recall naming her; at the time, I wasn't clever enough to select a suiting name. she was a gift of some sort from my aunt geneva and I cared for her. my sister who is three years my senior had one as well. her "kenya" doll was light skinned like she was and everything of the sort.

my sister and I were bathing partners. bathing together proved to be less time consuming for my aunt and the fun factor was doubled. we'd both bring our "kenya" dolls to bathtime yet at the time, I didn't understand that her functionability was limited: she wasn't suited for water activities.

when I dunked her under water, her eye lashes would be seen floating in the water here and there
and gradually, she'd have less and less lashes. her kente cloth wasn't removable so I'd have to do some major towel drying to soak the water out of her get up. the most tedious consequence for putting her in the tub [and even washing her up with soap most times] was having to deal with her thick hair that took more days than one to dry [until I got smooth and began to sneak my aunt's blowdryer to dry her weave out].

most of my memorable good times began with her. she guided my juvenile belief in female domestication blah blah blah.

she slept with me and swung by my side for I always held her hand: for our security. I consulted with her about what cereal to eat for breakfast, trusted her judgement about whether or not allowing my female cousins to play with her was a good idea or not and respected her taste in "men" very highly and regarded her morals when she and I decided that she "needed" a Ken doll in her life.

and this transitions me into my message at hand:

women who can relate to this relationship that's made between girl and doll know the strength of the connection she individually had with her physical manifestation of her pure conscious.

these dolls, these miniature representations of women distorted to appear as mature-looking life-like infants and most times toddler-sized daughters were an extention of our girlhood in its purest existence. this is applicable to the girl who had that cabbage patch kid, or that feminine carebear, or baby tumbling surprise, the "kenya" doll, the female teddy bear or even that emaciated stick figure barbie and her friends.

when did we lose sight of the doll in us all?? that innocent yet youthfully honest inner being of self?? did we not feel secure with our first experience of trusting ourselves??

when we stopped consulting with her about something as simple as which cereal to devour, we slipped and lost sight of how we need to lean on her judgement to guide us in choosing not perfect mates, but those that weren't "settle deeds", you know, those men children we settled for, the ones we subjected our inner dolls to be played with like the lastest new hotwheel model, only to be traded with the low value of a few pokémon cards...

let's close our hands around her small hand and clamp tight to the future of our emotional sanity; let's respect her judgement when it comes to who "plays" with her and most importantly, let's recognize that we women have options yet, we don't have to exercise any and all options; we have the power to choose yet, we have the ability to be chosen.

so unless you've never had a doll, or yours is one of chucky's brides, let's travel back to our girlhood, let's reach into the rooms of the dollhouse to rescue, nurture and protect our dolls.

the rare narrative:

2008-03-06T19:40:00.002-08:00

[march.6.2008.6:47pm]

i'm being loved while in love with a man who to live without would be pain i doubt i'm strong enough to endure and rarely do i ill-measure my strength.

he and i struggle to love one another. in the manner in which i express my feelings for him, the words i choose to convey how he feels about me, one would be misled to believe that love between he and i remains smooth peaches and cream.

yet it's anything but...

through all the lies spun from my tongue that i become selfish and childish enough to give him as truth, he continually offers me the chance to confront my demons. he and i see the truth as it is through the same pair of eyes; he loves me to the ultimate level to check me when i'm too much of a coward to do so myself.

Michael feeds my soul, nurtures my body and stimulates my psyche. he loves me in my entirety in quantities i can't fathom to comprehend. as i've always sought to be loved, regarded, cherished, he does so. he acknowledges my strength and holds me at his highest respect; in the same company of the two other great people that matter to him most: his father and son.

there's no doubt in my mind that he is my one and that i'm his forever. this relationship hasn't been soon come found. i've loved him since I was fifteen, since the day i told him during a time i recall as the Dark Ages. he's truly my hero. he saved me from an emotional death i was suffering from and little did i know then, i did the same for him simultaneously.

i need him. i honestly know that i do. he isn't disposable; he's a necessity. life for me without him would be a shell with no pearl hidden inside to shine.
don't mistake this for me being a needy woman lustfully attracted to a dog who doesn't deserve her efforts, time and emotional validation...

he's earned every ounce of myself i wake up each day to present to him.

yet, he drives me in-fucking-sane!

were so alike that it's dangerous for us to be on the outs with one another.

he's such an asshole. demanding. cynical. cautious. observant. watchful. passionate. protective. egotistical. insensitive. aloof. thoughtful. pragmatic. wise. wise. very wise. combative. pushy. needy. strong. incredibly strong. loving. loyal. curious.

he sometimes acts as if he's gone through life for me for he's always there to correct my wrongs before i step out of rationality to make them. he pushes me to my limit and yet when he does, i set that bar much higher, just for him.

ironically, we balance one another out.

[i use ironically because were the saaame sign: aquarius. birthdays are fourteen years and a week apart...smh]

in his heart's mind, no one could ever love him for who he is when he's not being charming, humorous, lovable, smooth, well-versed; then i came into his life.

i know for a fact he's the best shit on earth since take-home pregnancy tests.

loving him allows me to realize how God continues loves us faulty human beings unconditionally.

death for the compromise

2008-02-06T16:27:00.000-08:00

[february.6.2008.4:21pm]

wipe me from the floor
for my person has spilled
from the voids corroding
through the flesh of my
souls flask.

wipe my essence from
seeping into the ridges
of your nonchalant
attitudes woman hand
woven carpeting.

wipe my cores tears
that stream across the
windshield of my eyes in
sodden melancholy lines
that bear the bittersweet
taste of my pain sweetened
so sourly.

wipe me from the floor
for my existence has
been splattered through
the division of shards of
time being shattered.

wipe me from dying in
the silent death that
compromising relentlessly
provided.

possibly unamed

2008-02-06T15:24:00.001-08:00

[february.6.2008.3:17pm]

curiosity dwells in my
youths lack of experience;
my soul isn't content with
empty fulfilllment of the
constant attempts of
manifesting possibilities
that only result in the
"what if."

my mind will invariably
vacation to those cerebral
excavations to uncover your
past existence now only
existing in my psyches power
of retaining and recalling
our past experience[s].

in the creases of my past
you'll remain unheard unseen;
embedded in the silk thread
of my memorys knitted seams,
forever remaining parallel to
my present.

the soul exchange

2008-02-05T18:42:00.000-08:00

[february.5.2008.6:26pm]

legs disunite to expose
the vacancy that rests
on the surface of my
pages soft folds.

my script openly displays
itself;
sensually it offers your
pen to glide along the
lines that serve as guides
if any trace of misdirection
finds your firm strokes
for your steady hand delivers
thrusts of your papermate
to mate with my seams
in their margins.

ink brings my
melodic melody to
articulate themselves into
stanzas that soon come seen
manifest into metaphorical
expressions that slither from
my lips appreciation.

my pages become stained
with your pens volatile verbs,
verbs that explicitly exhibit
how soiled your vision is as to
how our playwright will be
written to its end.

our different styles of
approaching poetry poetically
marinate in the others
literary fluidity.

on the tombstone of our
shared precaution,
our poem becomes engraved.

for this isnt sex;
welcome to the soul exchange.

verseless songbird

2008-02-04T21:15:00.000-08:00

[february.4.2008.9:16pm]

silence coils itself
around the cassette tape;
a cassette tape of still
music spilling loudly into
the gaze his eyes so firmly
plants on my physical existence.

his lips never part to
give a voice of curiosity
permission to feed into
the caution that serves
as a barrier between him
and my souls sanity.

his stares are stand
ins for his tied tongue;
his eyes speak words
uncertainty limits the
snake of his mouth to hiss.

versesless this songbird
seems.

i long to hear his melodic
melody comforting all had
suspicions of his mild mannered
silent speech in the pillows
of ethereal dreams.

who am i

2008-02-04T21:02:00.001-08:00

[february.4.2008.9:04pm]

to love??
to be loved??

a right of this
i have not,
yet i strain through
thee fray of what
should be only to
be wildly occupied
with thee what could be.

to have found my
soulmate at thee
transition of dark
to light seems to
have been lost in
thee shadows i so
need to flirt with while
naked.

his fingerprints
arent stains i long
to cleanse from my
souls core;
theyre proof of love
that existed in a
time not convenient.

i can only imagine
thee flutter of his eyes
as they walk across
whats here written
and i can only pretend
i can feel what emotions
these words evoke within
him.

smiles fuck my lips
into displaying,
expressing how
what we will share,
but will never develop
really transcends to
my soul.

ive let go,
yet my grasp hasnt
let loose.

what is said to
be right is what
weve decided to
place actions to.

for if things fall
apart,
he may be thee
better situation to
fall in place.

if not,
from my heart,
mind,
vagina,
hell never be erased.

exit i am to a
place my love and
i used to be in hopes
of creating that mystic
shit he and i founded.

love, love

her

2008-01-29T16:13:00.000-08:00

[january.28.2008.11:25pm]

"...she was a dark skinned girl with pretty cornrows,
she was doing her best to try and hide that scar..."
-raphael saadiq

i want her to have what i have found;
to be courageous enough to disarm the
arsenol that guards her heart;
for her to trust in love as i know it;
as it is to be made and kept.

i want to replace her heartache;
replace it with fulfillment of self;
want to erase the pain from her aways;
for love to allow her to
choose joy in her speech.

i want her to look in the
mirror and see the person i see;
wish she were good at mathematics
because then shed know the
true value of her self worth,
her net worth weighed in love;
i want her to smile like she means it;
for her to know the faux ones hurt most.

i want her to free her heart of doubt;
secure her mind in a love to be not sought after,
but found;
for her to never give him the authority
to dictate who, when, how,
why she loves the way she will;
i want her to give contentment
permission to live within.

i want her to know i admire her more ways than one;
in ways she thinks light of;
for her to never feel as though the next time is doomed;
i want her to potentially soon believe in bride and groom,
but only when my wants for her becomes her necessities...

because i can want all i want for her,
but only juhlisa can want the need to set
herself free when need be.

words unheard

2008-01-24T14:18:00.000-08:00

[january.24.2008.2:25pm]

silence forces its
way down a throat
that struggles to
unscramble words
too afraid to be
spoken out of a
mouth that allows
uncertainty to
discourage two
tremblings lips to
part and give way to
a voice of a child
left unheard...

eyes forever holding
contact with the floor,
eyes thatre forever
finding security in
crying exclusively in
the places that light
cant touch...

nicole

2008-01-24T13:59:00.000-08:00

[january.24.2008.2:15pm]

"memories on corners with the..."
-common

she offered her
slabs of concrete
to us as our
territory,
slabs of concrete
that rose with
the earth;
sloped with our
fearless thrill
seeking children
bravery.

the gas station
marked her beginning,
the corner store
signaled her end;
everything in
between we pissed,
spat and stomped on.

nicole didnt have
a pool for us to
frolick in,
but the hydrant up
top was all ours...

even when the
fire department
came to place
claims on water
that didnt belong
to them either.

nicole made it
so that having
a dollar a day
equated to being
wealthy at our
naive age.

she didnt require
parent supervision
as most city parks
displayed signs of.

the limp metal
fences that
enclosed yards
of balding earth
were zoo cages;
every other
yard wed see
an assortment
of canines;
our rottweiler
never failed to
bark at these
often vicious beasts.

nicole watched over
our lives when our
carelessness grew
to be victorious
of our caution that
never existed.

she molded herself
into every landscape
that our young minds
envisioned.

her street lamps
didnt act as warnings
telling us to return
home;
wed just subtract
more distance between
us and the porch.

her empty hallways
tickled our voices
into echoes that most
times shoulve been
whispers.

nicoles apple
trees were often
fruitless
year round,
but fruitful
became of our
laughter as
we fought,
cursed and didnt
give a fuck as did
our parents and
older siblings
cared a fuck
less about us.

mother

2008-01-23T16:32:00.000-08:00

emotionally raped of my innocence;
mentally fucked for my sanity;
unjustly kidnapped of my childhood;
physically disregarded and abandoned.

your hugs are strangers to me;
soft soothing words are unheard.

youre responsible for the child i
never was given the chance to become,
responsible for the fetus that rests
in my psyches womb,
lying unloved as a stillborn.

i learned to use lies
as self preservation...

[to be continued]

2008-01-23T16:10:00.000-08:00

[january.23.2008.4:32pm]

sultry syllables and
vulgar vowels slip
from in between my
lips as youre seeking
refuge of yourself
deeply in the wet
walls of solace that
is provided from my
slit and there,
my lips tightly wrap
themselves around the
surface of a softness
of a skin thats
displayed as the
physical manifestation
of an erect adrenaline rush,
but rush you do not
as you taunt time to
be stretched as i am
becoming and coming
i came in result and
your soon come orgasm
depicts you as drowning
while your manhood
goes limp.

we bathed

2008-01-23T15:56:00.000-08:00

[january.23.2008.4:05pm]

your scent soaks
into my skin;
my tongue tip
toes across my
canvas,
savoring the
taste you bear.

on im turning as
flames of candles
are licking their
heat on the balls
of my heels.

my limp body
allows you to
cradle me in between
your legs;
the nape of my
neck touching so
lustfully against
your loins.

your questions
begin to be posed
in hopes of
penetrating your
curiosity left
unanswered;
im retorting in
a silence that
loudly echoes itself
amongst the tile
wall.

soap fails to cleanse
our shared confusion
and a tub draining
leaves behind a ring.

weve cuddled in
a nameless love
that neither of
us can claim,
but in it,
we bathed.

the drive to the flight

2008-01-23T15:52:00.001-08:00

[january.23.2008.3:50pm]

a well of experiences,
mistakes, lessons learned;
a well i yearn to suck dry
and to literally suck dry.

sexually compatible: an understatement
mentally stimulated: an insatiable necessity

you blanket me in an
uncertain faux security
that i allow my false
faith to materialize
which in turn numbs all
rationale.

watching pulp fiction
through our laughters
love diction.

the travel there
consisted of heavy
words spoken beyond
our limit yet the silence
that was given led to
spaces of feelings felt
unexpressed and broken
speech left unfinished.

smirk

2008-01-22T11:12:00.000-08:00

[january.22.2008.2:35pm.est]

the smirk that
flirts on the
lips of his mouth
brings me to a
time before i was
born;
a time i question
if his smirk
still holds the
same effect it has
on me on women that
it entranced then.

his smirk plays on
his lips in the
fashion my tongue
has traced them
and if his smirk
had a taste,
id want to savor
more.

in all truth,
when we speak
again through
the distance
that well travel
to in our respective
places of space,
my eyes will be
closed as i allow
my mind to envisage
his soft lips turning
up in that nonchalant,
often times confusing
yet charming smirk.

her diction

2008-01-17T16:06:00.000-08:00

[january.17.2008.7:07pm.est]

wanting me to
fuck him.
i did so clothed;
he questioned how.

words loose from
my tongue penetrated
inside of his ear as
saliva made whipsers
so smooth seep into
his minds reasoning.

my tongue lightly
traced the outline
of his lobes as
he moaned in pleasure
begging me to fuck
his remaining orifices.

words serve as paints;
his mental the canvas.

my tongue uttered
rustles of enticement,
he prostrates.

i fed his ear
decorated nouns
with adjectival
phrases of sultry
origins,
head he gives.

all this done
without lying
on my back.

some women allow their
vaginas to hold control
of a mans dick.

yet few fail to
learn, obtain,
apply the power of
a womans diction.

2008-01-17T15:20:00.001-08:00

[december.31.2007.??:??]

our breaths are taken to the
rhythm of the soft beats of our
hearts as they play on the drum born of our silence
as my limp limbs cradle your calm body
and through the very contact our souls make,
the physical becomes obsolete because as naked
our truth may lie in a bed soiled with sin,
for void of fallace,
our souls so quietly mate
as it is you're my soulmate.

an hour

2008-01-17T14:56:00.000-08:00

[january.17.2008.5:57pm.est]

"• noun: distance measured by the time taken to cover it"
-rhyme.poetry.com

an hour was
given for me
to determine
whether or not
four years would
further into time
or would cease,
be put to an end
due to my
negligence of
caring to coddle
ones insecurities.

four years teetered
on your balance's scales
that were unequally
weighing my love.

your intuition
is just as my own
so the lies i told
were seen as they
were.

seventeen voicemails:
audio warnings of
a love soon to go awry.

but you fail to
see that i emotionally
desert others before
they come to exercise
thoughts of physically
leaving me.

thee love whore

2008-01-17T10:55:00.000-08:00

[january.17.2008.1:56pm.est]

"its a dangerous necessity, a world famous mystery...love."
-mos def

i will have your love
without your consent.

others blood stains
the palm of my hand
as the grasp that holds
their hearts captive
doesnt give way.

love crusader,
heart slayer,
emotional player.

ironic how the
lies i tell are in
the name of love.

the many men all
adore his self
acclaimed, self
named love whore.

home

2008-01-17T10:41:00.001-08:00

[january.17.2008.1:47pm.est]

"i love new york and new york loves me. i love getting on
that red-eye and landing at 7 or 8 am, whether its winter
or summer. i love turning on Hot 97 and knowing that i'm back in new
york. it's the greatest city in the world. i fell in love with new
york before i even went there"
-kanye

• noun: a place where something began and flourished

the beast

2008-01-17T10:37:00.001-08:00

[january.17.2008.1:34pm.est]

ears yearning to
be mute;
the acoustic
qualities of the
hallway allowed
the fray to leak under
my door;
entered sounds
of voices full of such
hate,
anguish,
rage.

the ocean fell
from her eyes
but my own held
back the rush of
waves that begged
for a blink to give
way.

shudders ran deep
through my consciousness;
shoved onto the back
shelves of my memory
as a reminder of what
a beast i never want to
become.

the torn effect

2008-01-15T21:13:00.000-08:00

[january.16.2008.12:28am.est]

not split
in half,
but resting
in the palms of
two different
owners whose
grasps differ
in strength,
passion.

it was destined
to belong to
many a people
simultaneously.

just hurts when
it feels like its
being torn,
ripped,
shredded to a
beatless pulp.

red eye thoughts

2008-01-14T15:37:00.000-08:00

[january.14.2008.6:49pm.EST]

i could read our
love story in the
words the stars
wrote for us.

from up here,
thoughts of you
keep me secure
if this seatbelt
chose to give
way.

they held hands;
an old love was
hidden in their
palms yet i
didnt feel shut
out from it;
i want that for us:

a hand held love
that we maintain
to hold on to
through our lives
as time brings us
to our elderly ages.

my fear of flying
alone took flight
from my psyche as
i felt love gently
caress me...

even though you
werent there
holding my
hand.

for warren hearl

2008-01-14T15:30:00.000-08:00

[january.02.2008.6:28pm]

sun rays warms
sunlit kissed arms
to loop loosely around
the frame of the lover
who stands in summers
embrace.

intimacy captured like
this causes thoughts to
linger on many
summer suns that have
set.

in their absence,
their presence is missed;
love filled memories
marquee across ones eyes
as the mind chooses to
allow itself to
reminisce.

summer is a soon
to dwindle lust as it
dies into the coldness
of a bitter winter that
bites at all had
heat.

my sensual plaything

2008-01-09T19:01:00.000-08:00

[january.9.2008.6:57pm]

i find solace as i rest
my face in between
the length of rich
chocolate pillars that
join to conceal the
valley where her
flavorful secrets
lie and lies were told
to mask my curious
passion that calls me
to venture here in the
shadows that our
sheets provide as guilt
bleeds over our two
bodies that tussle and
tease while nervous
hands caress chests
that heave and yet my
imagination lends me
this canvas to paint;

experience is what lacks.

moving...no, continuing

2008-01-09T15:30:00.000-08:00

[january.9.2008.3:24pm]

"...the cause seduces but the self-interest secures the deal..."
-robert greene

allowed your words were
to run licks on the lobes of
my ears,
to sleezily snare my minds
choice of analyzing said lies
yet I found myself in a space
in suspense waiting to eat
such fruit from seeds planted
by you.

never in doubt your talents reside,
but absent were the rewards.

my attention you have not;
ill be in the space where you so
long for me not to be.

the flush of excitement is over;
interest has flagged.

this time last year; same seen...

2008-01-08T23:28:00.000-08:00

[january.8.2008.11:24pm]

"forgive the urgency, but hurry up and wait"
-the fray

the day that rests
in between the past
and future sat by my side
waiting for you to join us
in bringing in new suns to
be put to sunset in another
year that'll cease to yield
time.

holding me at arms distance;
forever playing me close.

questions are never asked.
motives never questioned.
absence never interrupted.

'the lone wolf' you said,
but all wolves have a pack.

and from afar,
through distance,
in different loves,
beating in other hearts,

forever ill look after you.

genuinely green

2008-01-03T10:30:00.000-08:00

[january.3.2008.10:24am]

"wow, you know what I just realized?
you're hella like one of my best friends..."
-Kaleb

green irises melt
into the brown
ones that I own.

laughs dance on the
rims of lips parting to
give way to such a
pure expression of how
calm,
at ease,
we are with one another.

unspoken words emerge
from behind loose tongues;
a familairity rests in our
silent nonverbal speech.

prior lessons of
self-protection are unlearned;
trust is born from the
solace you provide me.

you're teaching me friendship
at its best;
please remain genuinely green.

lies

2008-01-02T10:14:00.000-08:00

[january.2.2008.10:15am]

held captive,
bound to my tongue
they remain in regards
of the capabilities they hold of
manifesting into pain destined
for permanancy upon ones
mistake of choosing vulnerability
as opposed to distrust.
theyre made of silk malice;
soft to the ears touch,
yet one fails to realize theyre
everything but.
their constant attempts
to be given as misleading
answers when questions are
asked is a struggle my conscience
suffers from because although the truth
rests in honesty,
youve made it sport for me to
see how easy it is for my words
to lie to you

what ive made of us

2007-12-31T14:22:00.000-08:00

[december.31.2007.3:12pm]

past relationships served as
mere playgrounds in which I danced
across the surfaces of my past
lovers' pleas for me to cease
seeking fun in the art i mastered of
causing their emotional state to
forever be in a disarray upon my every command.

to look after me,
there was no one;
forced as a child to immitate
the role of parent brought me to remain in character
even while curtains were drawn.

discipline came as self isolation
when my childish antics began to litter
my past lovers' memories of me with
regrets of allowing their hearts
to be kept for keeps.

the many boys' hearts sufficed for my need of toys;
emotionally,
on me they relied so for sheer amusement,
i fed them lies.

to live the role of pupil to a teacher,
to learn lessons his way as our relationship
becomes our classroom and life as he's lived it
is what he'll teach has been what ive wanted to
find me.

contacts

2007-12-27T21:55:00.001-08:00

[december.27.2007.9:55pm]

to contact your past contacts.
to hear the voices of your past loves.
to dial the numbers that have added up.
to multiply and become the product of the places in your heart in which you guard from me,
to have the responsibility to mend them.
to search for answers born from questions that are asked beyond ones personal space.
to read names from a list that serves as a roster of those who still linger moments too long to bring discomfort to rub against my cheeks.
to erase their numerical existence in your contacting device.
to end all contacts with past contacts.
to call you to come into contact with the only number worth dialing.

mirror, mirror

2007-12-22T22:06:00.000-08:00

[december.22.2007.10:04pm]

"its like when I look into your eyes, I see my own..."
-Michael

mirror, mirror
displaying reflections of contrasting flesh,
two broken souls;
healing through darkness they met,
to be thrown into a love that was soon come,
seen too great to be kept.

mirror, mirror
reflecting the truth that bears the same face,
one that has lived amongst denial in all its space,
to then be forced to reevalutate,
left in rejection,
disregarded and displaced.

mirror, mirror
we created solace that only we know exist.
through our light of truth,
illuminated will become of every abyss.

2007-12-21T14:01:00.000-08:00

[december.21.2007.1:50pm]

"...weary of the world, get her fingers burned..."
-corinne b. rae

fly I was gliding towards the gaseous gleam
and it soon came seen;
firelight burning my ireses
that did so in cosmic beams.

to hold the sun was the desired feat.
he melted all had ice protecting me.

warmed me he did;
toasted my insecurities,
scorched away love left lost,
and gave light to loving fearlessly.

the time he boiled niether began nor ended.
a jealous sun he was and when called a star,
he erupted with rage and accused I became of being offensive.

to correct this wrong,
a kiss was to be planted onto his cheek.
out my arms reached,
but with hot so heat around it,
fire bit and singed my fingertips.

so I'd sit in the darkness of space.;
amongst the sky my feet lead me to pace with no corners, crevices, crooks to hide and save face.

fly I was gliding towards the gaseous gleam
and it soon came seen;
firelight burning my ireses
that did so in cosmic beams.

and the sun gives life to all that is made
and blinding me its hot did not
for this time,

I wore shades.

thee in lover ever after

2007-12-20T18:27:00.000-08:00

[december.20.2007.6:25pm]
the score: corinne bailey rae by corinne baily rae

words juggle and congregate amongst the folds of my genius;
premature thoughts seek substance;
to be placed in the meticulous order set in manifestation;
through uncertainty truth is birthed thus comes love, a fallacy of none.

out of thee hiatus I have risen,
to acknowlegde love that I've always had.
a love that as a child,
I sought to be loved with,
and through this love I've come to recognize and submit for all wrongs are corrected as it pertains to the half love, missed love,
mistaken love that nourished me.

contentment has found me in a time when doubt clouded my truth only to come to learn that this "doubt" was my intuition.

for a duration of four years,
hard I fought to maintain my sanity in the social constructionism[s] of high school while watching the blasphemy of the ignorant souls be placed upon my truth.

I survived;
truth prevailed.

but,
I found myself tunneling through a dark abyss of a place soon come,
seen to become,
feel,
seem all too familiar.

with this said,
I dropped out of an institution that I agreed to pay monthly installments of currency to as it sought to buy my mind and blur my truth.
in the silence found in the core of my soul,
I listened to what it desired most and muting the fray of the incompetent was priority number one;
this I did without her or his permission for it was a toll I was willing to pay.

I moved back home.
realized I missed my difficult to love loved ones.

I began to exercise my freedom and time was well spent frolicking in the pastures of the feilds of my imagination.

thee abstract returned with a vengeance;
one that held my water and stagnant life as I knew it became.

and for good reason...

unemployment,
withdrawing from school,
having no other obligations upholding structure of how my weeks should be spent granted me time
to
love:

love them differently.
learn to know why I love them;
love him;
love him hard seen come to be easy,
naturally,
freely,
blindly,
with all of me,
ever so gently,
more so truthfully than not so fully,
and ultimately,
without any fallacy.

child I was then,
woman child I am now.

I'm in thee lover ever after.
I will continue to love now until forever is the chapter.
love -er he is.
love her he does.
and happily doesn't last forever,
but for life to be as it may,
thee in lover ever after lies in the folds of truth born free of fallacy as it is to childrens' laughter.

bitch...

2007-12-19T15:44:00.001-08:00

[december.19.2007.3:43pm]

"wonder why we call you bitch??"
-Tupac

sitting pretty kitty laid back and observe type of bitch,
stay in the house to chill, cuddle, kiss, caress, and watch a thriller flick type of bitch,
bend over,
submit,
rub a nigga back,
on the knees one time to slurp and suck a dick type of bitch,
have a nigga contemplating for keeps type of bitch,
bring her own hustle to the table to flip money in more ways than one type of bitch,
independent type of bitch,
watch your back while maintaining your front type of bitch,
bonnie and clyde,
ride or die,
til death do us part type of bitch,
with her nigga in the streets type of bitch,
hold a clip tucked next to the clit-or-ris,
keep clapping,
a won't miss a hit type of bitch,
beyond an upgrade you type of bitch,
a woman who'll remake you type of bitch,
teach you some intellctual mind fuck type of bitch,
educated and speaks that eloquent tongue to take care of business type of bitch,
make you remember why you come home to her type of bitch,
a quick the slit another bitch if she so happens to direspect the king type of bitch,
have your babies while holding a career type of bitch,
keep you thinking you running shit while she's the mastermind behind the crime type of bitch,
behind the scenes,
low key,
the playwright whos written your lines type of bitch,
a stay cool,
calm,
collected,
carefree type of bitch,
will let you have it if you disrespecting the queen type of bitch,
a nigga don't fuck with me I fuck back attitude having type of bitch,
your second mother type of bitch,
the down for whatever do time won't snitch on you type of bitch,
feed a nigga when he's hungry type of bitch,
nourish a niggas soul type of bitch,
recognize the dick between your legs she owns type of bitch,
a no nonsense type of bitch,
a work hard play smart type of bitch,
the bitch that would kill you if you fuck over her type of bitch...

all of these I am;
master of them I have yet to be,
but bitch holds a connotation of negativity.

so woman I am to you;
your bitch ill be in discreet.

tears for keeps

2007-12-15T22:25:00.000-08:00

[december.15.2007.10:25pm]

to bottle these saltine
clear orbs of liquid into a space
to place upon the mantle of
your insensitivity would be
an ideal reminder i'd be honored
to give you for there are times
when i weep myself through
pain born from our love as you
blindly drive me to dance on
the edge of emotional insanity
and my eyes bear
the burden of bringing life to
wet cheeks as i smear vulnerability
into the skin of a woman child
left to feel such absence from
her partner while living the reality
of a love gone awry and still
loving him while
playing
tears
for
keeps.

letter of forever

2007-12-13T20:32:00.000-08:00

Michael,

you're the love,
the reason,
the truth of the end of time and since time had been proven to never cease,
forever will remain ours;
you'll transcend through death to always be a significant factor in my life.

in this collection of thoughts displayed as words,
i am attempting to convey to you how i feel about us,
what makes me love you so and ultimately,
to ensure and validate the position you've held in my life even through all the senseless decisions i've made since our genesis.

i've loved you since i was fifteen,
during the time i masked myself as someone else,
during the period of the darkest moments i've ever experienced.
i was carrying the burden of a heavy past and growing to learn to love me and to access a genius i held beyond my years in such a short time.

i love you hard and it comes easy,
natural,
without force.

there have been decisions i've made in life that has shaped the way we interact now. since the beginning,
i've always told myself i'd never have you, that you never wanted me and that you weren't expected to hold a sense of commitment to what you and i began to explore.

i did this in the name of self protection; something that i've learned to do throughout my entire life because all i encounter,
all i live to love somehow someway,
have hurt me;
either that be directly or indirectly.

and what i failed to realize was that you'd never hurt me through your genuine espression of how purely you love.

in reality,
you can't relate to the shit i've been through.
you can't identify with the love i was loved with and since this is true,
you're able to offer me the love i never received.

so,
in the complexity of my love for you,
there are times when i'm vulnerable and in a way,
i'm your daughter;
when all i can focus on is wanting to be held and cradled and spoken softly to;
things i can't recall having been given.

there's also moments with you when i feel inadequate with my sexuality because in truth,
you intimidate me and that's something i've never been comfortable with;
no man intimidates me.
you do because you know how to
tame,
tease,
taunt,
touch,
tantilize the woman that rests in the center of the cage of adulthood i'm so trapped inside of.

for you,
ill submit,
surrender.

you give me reason to never doubt how pure what i have to offer to the world in its entirety truly is.

i can't make myself ten years older no matter how long i've exercised my mind with such a possibility.

you're meant to be 14 years my senior and i was born for you to have,
hold,
teach,
love and
watch prosper.

i look to you and see my future.
i see them in you.
them: my children.

i used to not know my worth,
i used to not value my worth,
but now,
i understand my worth and know that no longer will i begin relationships that'll expire too soon for real love to be made all in fleet of such raw,
real,
relative
love you give me.

Michael,
i love you and that includes your flaws,
your mishaps,
your arrogance,
your intellect,
your compassion,
truth,
love,
sincerity,
apathy,
friendship,
dominanace,
vulnerability and the extent of what is to be said,
your companionship.

thee hiatus works...

2007-12-07T23:23:00.000-08:00

fucked
[november.24.2007.6:45pm]

ass naked, bent over, on all fours,
waiting, wanting, needing, necessitating
the entrance of his stiffness to penetrate
her vagina in need of fucking.

we invite one another to have,
share our bodies once more
in hopes of fucking away past sex
had on this mattress stitched with thread
that holds the history of our lovemaking
and
padded with now rotting past
affection and passion we once
fucked
each other with such vulnerability,
but here i offer myself,
offer you,
for you to fuck your frustrations out
on me as i willingly take your misdirected
bitterness as sweet pleasure
because although we cant
fuck away our fucked up past
and we cant fuck ourselves out
of our fucked up relationship,
it still feels so damn good to be fucked
by you even with us knowing that
when our sex dissipates from the cold glass of the window,
we remain faceless,
nameless,
souls of a fucked love.

.................................................................................

naked over coffee
[november.22.2007.9:27pm]

blankets lay lazily wrapped around our
bodies blanketed in contrasting shades
of brown emitting soothing steam
from mugs that hold pools that reflect
our dark naked coffee.

our eyes dance in a silence thats born after sex.

you bring your thirsty lips to the rim of my mug
and begin to sip me once more,
drain me of all had inhibitions
as you stir me deeply.

bare bodies tussle on top of blankets strewn upon
the floor as coffee from knocked over mugs
seep inside the fabric of the carnal pleasure of two

who

touch,
tease,
tame,
taunt,

naked over coffee.

sweet baby love child

2007-11-12T20:55:00.000-08:00

the joy of my world
lies in traces of white
lace flowing throughout
the channels of your
developing genesis;
lace not of fabric, but
of a womans will to
push reality into the
rear view mirror of her
lifes pains.
shes contaminating
the soil of a seed id be left
to sow with rusty tools leftover
from past gardeners whom
never were in full attendance
for the duration of
her crops harvesting.
bending over on hands
and knees depict the
tangible existence of
bodily pain and
thickly clad calluses
become rough bandages
placed over exposed wounds
to obscure bruises that
seep deep into hands of
mine used to reap
your soul.

recollections of nights
scattered with the image
of the dimly lit hallway
from my twin bed to your
crib is illuminated in
my mind for i cant
forget trudging out
of sleep to walk past dawn
following the path of your
pleas to be held,
watered,
nurtured.

my eyes screaming to be
closed;
your screams muffling
these.

in my arms i learned
to cradle once more,
your head resting in the
curved comfort of my neck
and shoulder.

time,
i
and
love
stood
still
as she persisted
to sleep out of life
and he was in a place
of confinement as punishment
for senseless violations.

no title, no quote, just raw remembrance of pain

2007-11-06T19:22:00.000-08:00

[november.6.2007.7:44pm]

my heart thrown to its
death upon your room
floor while from my loose eyes,
tears poured themselves
into the fibers of the carpet
and i knelt to blot the
bloodshed of my core
from staining my pain's
existence on your record
as proof of you murdering
my soul that i extended out to you
yet another time.

your envy was boiling
in the pools of your
eyes, burning any
softness they ever pretended
to hold in regards of me.

your
face became characterized
with the turning up of the corners
of your mouth;
pleasure and amusement
danced amongst the curve of
your lips.

seeing you smile
in reaction to my
pain spilling out from
my tongue,
my hand gestures,
my tears

made me
get up and
slap the shit
out of you with
the palm of my
damn hand.

my palm stung,
but it was aught compared
to next being slammed between
you and the door,
lower body dangling
as your hand became
tightly,
vilely
wrapped around my
throat.

you squeezed the
cry out of me and
my fight of reason.

because the
stars say that air
fuels fire.

but im all
out of breath.

sidewalk love

2007-10-30T21:05:00.001-07:00

[october.30.2007.6:21pm]

"we have an untitled love"
-thee genius

concrete corners
drenched in piss;
debris scattered amidst,
but its the path
we choose
to walk upon;
trekking forward,
carrying rough times
on our backs;
life expecting us to
see things in mere
colors of glee,
but here,
on our sidewalk,
we side step
bullshit and
step on love that
was left to rot.

interlocked in
an embrace we
are connected
despite the traffic
of love that was lost.

brown flesh

2007-10-29T01:48:00.000-07:00

[october.29.2007.1:59am]

"your precious, precious, precious, baby dark skin tone..."
-lauryn hill

a genesis manifested
through low self-esteem
brought to existence
from walks upon
concrete sidewalks
of the streets of
acceptance of self.

lying idly in
her skin she
illuminates the crevices,
curves, slopes,
valleys of the stretch
of brown that consists
of her.

naked her love of
self is;
its unclothed, bare;
theres no need to
shy away from
such joy;
a joy found
within the depths of
one's soul.

caress with
hands meant to
explore and offer
pure intimate bliss.

fingertips shall tread
softly;
touch with caution;
enter with passion
with an intention
to inhale the beauty of
a rare canvas.

paint your essence
onto such a brown
surface;
create art worth admiring;
create love worthy of
reciprocation.

shes content with
her image;
molded from an
aesthetically inclined
force's vision;
gladly residing
in her flesh.

Luna

2007-10-23T08:45:00.001-07:00

[october.23.2007.8:57am]

"the natural satellite of Earth"
-dictionary.com

pieces of
flesh scraped
away;
sandpaper rakes
itself across
arms used to
shield an undying
soul forced to
retreat in its own
hell of darkness;
left to tend to itself.

to survive, it ate
love that was never
meant to manifest;
love that would
quickly be swept under
the rug of her memory.

as your mother,
she wasnt able to conceive
the lies he told her.
so she rejected you
in an attempt
to dull the reality
of the engagement soon to
take place.

he burns
in his cell of security
only to further
himself into regression.

grabbing your arms,
he took you with him;
a true display of
his selfishness without
remorse.

your function
of orbiting the
Earth has become
obsolete.

to think he
called himself
the sun;
a sun that was
incompetent
of radiating its
light to seep through
the most sinister of
times;
unable to corrode
the existence
of grim eclipses of
acknowledgment.

a sun serving
as nothing more
than a catalyst;
walking away
unaffected,
leaving her
to sweep you
clean from her
memory,
but erase you,
she has not.

Earth lives
waiting in her
own cell of guilt
and failure;
she awaits
her new moon.

she
recalls her present
to be synonymous to
your death:

flesh being
scraped away from
arms used to
shield an undying
soul.

saliva swapping

2007-10-22T10:25:00.000-07:00

[october.22.2007.10:36am]

mouths meet
and as an invite,
lips part wide enough
to display that soft
pink muscle hidden
inside.

i cringe because then i
think:

will he slob all over me?
is my tongue going to
be bitten?
or is he just an aggressive
saliva swapping beast?

in my mind,
this act of intimacy
should play itself
out as a dance;
a dance shared between
two rhythms of
a pair's exchange
of sensuality.

it has a flavor,
a distinct taste.

tongues should
swirl in the mouth
of the other;
exploring in a sense,
while contributing
to the heightened
sexual suspense.

but somehow,
with every person
its different and
i know not what to
expect.

i just hope my
tongue isnt bitten
and im not too
thrilled about
being slobbered all
over.

thats not a kiss.
its the swapping of
ooey
gooey
spit...

the drift end

2007-10-20T22:31:00.001-07:00

[october.20.2007.10:44pm]

im dormant with you.

my emotional,
sensual,
affectionate state
cant be accessed
because of
what ive been
allowing my
psyche to contemplate.

i believe that i
can feel this world
and all of its matter
and space.

and i can feel us

drifting,
spreading,
never seeming
to catch up to this
gap that continues
to separate us
because you are
here and i havent
reached there.

so in simplistic
respects for the message
at hand to be conveyed,
we will remain as we
are,
nothing more,
nothing less.

ill forever protect
you in my heart,
but you will forever be
replaced.

starvation at sea

2007-10-17T12:13:00.000-07:00

[october.17.2007.12:44pm]

your emaciated frame
calls me to offer you
subsistence for i
cant hold ground
beside you and not
give you what your
soul so desperately needs.

i can hear your
stomach roar with
hunger as though it
seems as if its slowly
eating away at
its emptiness.

because it cant digest
what you have mistaken
for nourishment:
your childish antics,
your leftover,
borrowed self-love,
your misdirected self-hate
and ultimately,
your negligence of
self-worth.

but here i stand next
to you as you drift out
to sea
and i wonder why
youre in such strong
refusal of what im
offering.

then i remember
when it was i,
starving a starvation
of self-discovery
during a time i thought
thered be no finding me.

you have
the food within
yourself to survive,
just acquire an appetite
for enlightenment
and then youll be free.

as i remain to
hold my ground
by your side,
ceasing my attempts to
force feed,
your emaciated frame
continues to deteriorate
under the sharp winds
at sea...

pillow talk

2007-10-11T10:59:00.000-07:00

[october.11.2007.10:59am]

"lay your head on my pillow. here you can be yourself..."

- alicia keys

when he looks at me,
his eyes pierce through
my hard exterior.

i can feel him read my
thoughts because theyre
written across my face,
etched in my experession,
and marqueeing behind
my eyes.

he took the time
to ask me what was
bothering me.
he so adamantly
wanted to hear
me out.

intently he listened,
understood
while he rested
his head on
his pillow
with my head
laying gently
on his chest.

butterfly kisses were exchanged
as we whispred to
one another cute pet names
and one our souls became.

felt so good to be held,
for i allowed my feelings
to guide me as our
minds went for a sensual walk
as we lay in his
bed this night
immersing ourselves
in our private
conversation
called pillow talk.

photo: christina|caption: thee genius

2007-10-11T00:02:00.000-07:00

[october.11.2007.12:04am]

when it snows,
it comes thick
in white sheets of crisp
wet flakes.

it scatters itself
everywhere blanketing
the world under a cloak
of white.

so he makes his way
through the center of the street
to a destination only
he knows of.

his path winds
and turns,
curves with
the cleanliness of the
sleet.

his forefront is
sharp;
his background blends.

and there he walks,
on the path that
bends.

ignacio

2007-10-10T19:13:00.000-07:00

love:sucker

[march.20.2007.8:26am]

im sitting here in front of the computer with a stuffy nose, sinus pressure and an itchy throat; all gifts of spring...

mnkee is sleeping, tussling in the covers that wrap him and all i can do is feel lightheaded that im here in his pressence, in his wake of pure passion and ginuine genius.

ive come to the realization that
i ♥ him
and somehow in my soul, i find comfort with the
fact that i fell for none other than him.

im so happy and im learning all the tiny steps that come along with growing with someone. we spend plenty of time with one another and its all a piece of our meshing process. he wants me as char'nae and theres no room for pretending. he illuminates the darkest corners that i wish to hide.

with him,
i can no longer run from myself;
its a race that should never be ran.
and slowly but surely,
hes showing me that there is a light in me
that im obligated to allow to shine,
despite those who wish to put it out.
and they cant because
its my innnerglow.

im wading in new waters here; waters that have dangerous under currents and calm ripple effects and im okay with this. hes shown me who he is and im teaching him that its okay to be himself. ill always be here as his friend to comfort him if nothing else.

a new chapter, i fresh page, new ink is now being used to fill this book of mine and literally, hes a character ive created in the folds of my imagination who would perfectly suit me...

and he does.

so as im wrestling with this stuffy nose, no longer will i grant fear and pride the chance to deprive me of someone and something as great and liberating as love from such a real individual.

call me crazy, but
ive taken off the training wheels
and
im wearing no seatbelt,
no helmet,
no pads...

for im willing to crash once again with him and proudly fall victim to being his love:sucker...

2007-10-10T09:33:00.001-07:00

can
october
soon be transformed
into
november
and so then
november
can be born into
december

'cause then
ill be
free

2007-10-10T08:17:00.000-07:00

[october.10.2007.8:18am]

"You don't even recognize the ways you hurt me, do you?"
-rihanna

here i am, behind the computer screen again
recording peices of my life into this blog thing
and honestly, its one of my most valuable
"posessions" in my time now.

for breakfast, i eat hot tamales. you know,
the usual:

toss six or eight of them bad boys
into my mouth to get the ultimate cinnamon
burn.

but what really brought me here this morning
is a dream.

i dont remeber it in full detail.
all i know is that im afraid;
afraid hell hurt her beyond belief.
and i laugh at her stupidity,
but shit like this happens when a person
searches outside of her or himself hoping
to obtain self-love.

shes scaring me because shes living her
life as a pendulum. hes hanging her
over the edge of the cliff.
every so often, he threatens
to throw her over,
then plays her close
and apologizes;
its his psychological contraint.

but someday,
hell decide to send her
down that steep,
perilous end.

he hit her.
i felt it.
thats what woke me up.
because i wont settle for
punches.
choking of the neck
is what made me go.

so why cant she leave?
why does she keep going
back to him?
subjecting herself to
being used,
misused,
abused,
and not being gave a damn
about?

i hate that ive laughed at you for
living your life the way you do.

and i apologize.

i cant give up on
you just because you have
given up on yourself.

thy words shall tread softly

2007-10-08T00:02:00.000-07:00

[october.9.2007.11:03pm]

"i talk sharp like a razor blade under the tongue..."

-tariq of the roots crew

abrasive i can be.
hostile my words may sound.
and i may throw my
know-it-all 'tude in your face.

you challenge me,
a battle i will give.

attack me,
and emoitional
bruises you will
retreat with.

all in all,
i will win.

i dont strive for an
argument,
most are simply
miniscule disagreements.

and somehow
there are those who
say i twist thier
words,
my opinion(s)
somehow make thiers
seem inferior.

and maybe this is the case
at hand.

for there will never
be a "medium"
in which my tongue
speaks truth.

'cause quite honestly,
i dont seek to hurt anyone's
feelings,
to make anyone
feel dumb,
subordinate;
its just my quick
wit.

so get wit
or get lost.

photo: christina|caption: thee genius

2007-10-07T17:17:00.000-07:00

[october.7.2007.5:32pm]

i commend such bravery.
for he doesnt know of the world
in which hes in reach of.
...
invariably a world
that will reject him
on end.
...
the innocence, contentment
and peace of a child's mind;
...
imagine the images in his head.
...
does he aspire to create
a better life for all of us?
one thats void of violence,
war,
hatred,
prejudice
and all of
the relatives of
injustice?
...
and silently,
i want him to succeed.
...
but i will not
voice such a desire,
because im too
much of a coward
to do so,
for i wont take the blame if he fails
such a feat.
...
its frightful to think
that we grow from the beauty of this
.
..
...
to the ugliness of guilt
and cowardice.

boroughing to the boroughs.

2007-10-04T10:06:00.000-07:00

[october.4.2007.10:07am]

"making it in the slow lane toward someplace i badly need to go."

-richard ford

ever get the feeling,
the feeling of displacement,
that youve been dealt the
wrong hand of cards,
a deal you have failed to change?
the mood of being stuck in a rut.
or better yet,
that somewhere else,
on some other city's sidewalk,
underneath another sky,
your name is being called.

first it begins as a whisper.
no louder than the soft purring of
a napping kitten...

then the amp is plugged in.
and all you can hear
is the repetition of your name
over a lil jon and the eastside boys' beat.

if you cant relate,
just hear me out.

east oakland.
north oakland.
west oakland.
east oakland.
antioch.
the "early" elk grove.
sacramento
and all its sub-cities, towns.

this is my map.
where ived lived.
where ive been.

and my own personal trips dont
suffice for the life im seeking.

i just get this feeling that i belong
somewhere else.
its calling me.
tempting me.
and im going to give in soon.

im just in the slow lane,
no traffic,
just in a car that doesnt accelerate
past 60 miles per hour.

and my rearview mirror is broken.
fcuk whats behind me.

and here i come.
as i make my way
through this life i
call dull
and not fit for
an insight like mine.

or maybe its me.

i look at life through a
telescope.
and i want to experience what i see
through that magnifying glass;
i want to experience its grandeur.

so little hilly town of
moraga wont suffice,
pacify me.

i dont wanna be queen of these hills.
i wanna run the city.
and thats where im headed.

in the core of
the rotten apple.

and ill gladly eat
my slice of the
American (rotten apple) Pie.

untitled: for reasons i dare not speak

2007-10-04T09:16:00.000-07:00

[october.4.2007.9:17am]

" i know i'm imperfect and not without sin, but now that i'm older, all childish things end
and tell him..."

-lauryn hill

in the past, i couldnt speak his name.
for it was something i held sacred,
close to my heart,
embedded in my mysterious self.

when words are voiced,
there comes manifestation.
and you were an idea i loved
to occupy my mind with,
but
i lacked the mind capacity,
the compassion,
the experience to
know what i know now:
of what will forever be
of us.

some may think it strange,
but were strange fruit;
were of the same tree,
the same branch
and essentially,
of the same stem,
taste and fruitfulness.

we can go days without speaking.
weeks without emailing.
and soon come seen,
years without speaking.

and this is only
permitted amongst us.
'cause we know how
one belongs to the
other in the shift of times
and the lines of the sublime,
through the
fray of our own lives.

im just geeked to be seeing
you again.

and yeah,
im still that "little girl" to
you,
but you respect me as an adult,
as you always have
and you love me as a person.

a gap of 14 counts of 365 days and some odd 366
hasnt kept us apart now.

and it never will.
'cause according to me,
its arbitrary...

and so is
our "title,"

'cause we have yet to
have one;
this shit is
okay by me.

so once again...
"tell him i love him"

-lauryn hill

.............

2007-09-27T21:39:00.000-07:00

[september.27.2007.9:40pm]

"the gift and the curse..."
-jay-z

the time is here again.
when i begin to have those moments to myself
where i stop the motion of time around me
and i begin to contemplate my existence in
my here and now.

and here i am,
drifting off into space while
everyone around me
is making noise
that knows no end.

and i am having trouble.
trouble with deciphering my feelings,
my wants,
and to choose whether
i should protect
or succumb to such a crush.

but i dont know.
thoughts are swirling in and out.
and this is the curse of
which i was born with:
the gift of the Aquarius,
one who ponders the thought process of
pondering

and i haveyet to come
to a conclusion.

...................

child has died

2007-09-27T19:07:00.000-07:00

[september.27.2007.7:09pm]

"remember?"
-c.james

He holds her in his strong arms while he is making love to her,
Putting her at ease.
She studies him,
Desires to succumb to him;
She is eager to please.
He holds her hand and walks with her;
Neither in front nor behind.
He refuses to become her crutch,
Vows to never lead her blind.
He is her stepping stone,
But also a monument in her life.
She needs him for laughs,
Love
And support
When her life turns strife.
So he cradles, nurtures and loves her as she matures with time.
And soon,
Her skin of adolescence is shed and
Full of praise,
He cries,
For the lost and confused child he found...
Has now died.

"iced vanilla latte"

2007-09-21T14:04:00.000-07:00

[september.21.2007.2:45pm]

"espresso, milk, vanilla syrup and ice"
-starbucks coffee

strongly brewed
by darkly roasted,
powdered coffee beans.

such a drive
of energy,
the source of my
morning-after
vitality,
the reason for the
new reality of
my sexuality.

i take
sip one-three-five:
got me wide-eyed,
giving me
more pep in the
wake of my stride,
'cause im feeling secure,
so within it i confide,
but
in between my thighs
is where my
lust secretly moves,
lustfully hides.

next its
sip two-four-six:
some of its contents
drips on the side of
its stick
and here,
i graciously take
lengthy licks
with the flick
of my tongue.
none of my latte
should go to waste,
not a drop,
none.

its never what it seems.
cold as ice, ice as cold
and a substance of means.

it rests in my hand,
in my grasp,
in my clutch.
for i will always order
it to go
so i can
sip in the comfort
of its touch.

the espresso keeps
me going from beginning
to end,
its white milk runs thin
with syrup so thick
its texture is within.

my iced vanilla latte.
ill never stray away and
ill keep you close in mind
despite all the
fray of the he say she say.

then all of a sudden

2007-09-21T13:59:00.000-07:00

[september.21.2007.2:00pm]

"'cause its all said and done..."

i have one less
person to worry
about and to think
i was bridging
the gap...

until he burned the bridge...

dunno
why this is a
post,
because
who
gives a shit?

outro:

2007-09-19T13:49:00.000-07:00

[september.18.2007.1:43pm]

so in love
with you.

i love you
more than
you know.

my love
allows me
to understand
what you did
to me.

i love you.

and want nothing,
but for you to
wake up,
stop hurting
me,
you,
and be and live the person
i know you are.

him: defined

2007-09-19T08:57:00.000-07:00

[september.19.2007.8:59am]

"no quote necessary..."

How I define, classify, identify a king is like so:

Hes a man thatll take a chance in his own stance,

Thatll acknowledge that itll take time for us to

Prosper and grow.

He moves to his own drumbeat,

From the waves of his Caesar to his swagger down to

The heels of his feet and hes confident in the skin hes in.

A man no other can beat,

Defeat,

But when he loses,

He knows he holds a place within me to retreat in a manner

Thats discreet because Im aware of his ego

And I love his street lingo and how eloquent his tongue can become.

He wont put me down, but will be the one that keeps me focused and

Steady,

But hell have constructive criticism at the ready.

He doesnt see me as an object,

But a sculpture of intelligence,

Pure beauty and soul and he wont try to fit me into his ideal woman,

A mold of his own.

Our essences are intertwined and entwined,

Tangled and entangled,

Meshed together as one and our objective isnt to fuck;

Thats not our hype

Because were sexually enticed by one anothers mentality psyche,

But when he does touch me,

Hell make the woman inside of me run free;

Free to roam,

Free to experience him inside of me and

Well become one to the rhythmic harmonizing of our two heartbeats.

Hell stroke me with his fingertips while kissing my lips

And gently caressing my hips,

Firmly gripping my thighs and staring me in my bambi-like brown eyes.

When I begin to fuss,

Hell make me calm by placing my palm into his palm

As he quietly reads me a Psalm or a passage from the Quran

And hell tell me about the places hes been,

The things hes seen

And hell tell me about the man he is and the one that he is striving to be.

Hell admit that the desires he has are unfeasible without me,

His Queen and Ill gladly accept him as my King.

This man will cause my heart to sing and hes a being of a dream,

But hes real,

Surreal

And in the flesh and having him is a feeling of a pure blissful emotion

Of being gracefully blessed.

For all eternity,

Itll be him and I,

I and he,

Never an I or a me because were a team,

A we.

you scared, n*gga?

2007-09-18T15:50:00.000-07:00

[setember.18.2007.4:12]

i credit no one but myself for the amount of laziness and un-productivity in which i have been displaying.

it goes far beyond being incompetent;
'cause here i am again,
afraid of myself once
more,
and back to
rejecting the unknown.

but here,
no one controls my path but the one who walks upon it: me.

so what 'chu scared of, n*gga?

get ya ass up in the morning.
do the homework.
type the papers,
.
..
...
....
.....
......
.......
........
.........
..........
..........
.........
.......
......
.....
....
..
.
because sooner than you realize,
the time here spent will
be wasted
on trips
of recreational bliss.

2007-09-18T00:16:00.000-07:00

[september.12.2007.2:15pm]

could i explain love?
no.
simply no
because i believe that
my not being able to explain
it is all in its
definition.

check,
if i could explain love,
that would take away
most of the joy
i had in loving someone.
to me,
the fact that
no matter how many words i
choose
and to still be
incompetent
to convey
my love for someone,
or to be
unsatisfied
at my attempts
to explain
my love,
is the territory
love comes with.

ive been in love.
i love a lot of people
and i love myself.
but i wont ever be
able to explain it
just because love is
so relative.

its something that
can exist
without it being
mutual.
its a form of its own
and frankly,
i think no one
has no choice but to love.
even if they dont
or cant love.
theyd love to know
what love is,
so ultimately,
theyre "loving".

so,
no.
i cant explain it.
dont want to.
i just know that
when two people
reach a point
in her or his
life when
they find a love
they arent
required to explain,
then there it is...
true love in one of its purest forms:
inexplicable.

and as for certain
levels of love?

there arent any levels.
this isnt a super nintendo
super mario brothers
game console.
if there were levels
then one could choose
to go up,
or down,
but shit doesnt
work like that.

id say that love
is based on which the
lens you observe
it through.
either that lens be
tainted,
cracked,
blurred,
or not there at
all...

in my life

2007-09-17T17:29:00.001-07:00

i have accepted...

the fact that i exude a strong demeanor and therefore, i intimidate both men and women alike

that i am me and can only strive to pursue and obtain my own happiness

that i am emtionally corrupted and distant

i second guess myself because i am afraid of being great

i feel inadequate when my footing isnt comfortable

i will do what isnt always morally right, but what seems to be the best decision at hand

the fact that i doubt god and then i take him back; im losing my religion

i have tried many masks and have grown to know that the one i was born with fits me best

i am sarcastic beyond belief and thats ok by me

the fact that i know that i am not "model material", "drop dead gorgeous," but i cherish the fact that im intellectually beautiful

ive grown to understand that there is a system to everything and its up to me to manipulate it

it is my responsibilty to educate myself about who i am, where i come from and where im going and to choose the status which ill end

the fact that no idea is original, because to be original, you have to base your originality on whats already the norm

and those who defined themselves by the amount in thier wallet are lost souls; zombies

pop culture wont define me and i wont fall victim to its diluted mentality in which it sells to the population of androids

the fact that america was designed with our demise in mind

that i will never sacrifice the being that i am

sex will be my vice until further notice...

i will always lead and live a plethora of parellel lives

the fact that i have no choice but to leave my fingerprints on this world and have input on the blueprint to the next

i am here to die eventually

i will always be alone because no one will truly ever comprehend the perspective, the insight, the vision that i see

and finally, i have accepted that i will possibly outgrow all of these views because i am forever changing, forever growing and forever a fuck up in my own right

my words

2007-09-17T17:10:00.000-07:00

[september.17.2007.5:35pm]
"lets just be friends, care for one another, and continue to love, minus the heartache bullshit"
-c. james

arent meant to hurt
you,
theyre merely a form
of me expressing
how much i love
you,
to depict the depths
in which i wade
head over heels in
love with
you.
theyre what i feel.
if only you took heed,
let go of the bullshit
and allowed yourself to proceed
and soon come,
seen...

everything will mean what
it means,
seem what it seems,
and breathe
what it
breathes.

what it is
isnt brand new;
because once upon
a time,
i breathed you.

biography

2007-09-17T13:40:00.000-07:00

[september.17.2007.3:06pm]
"i feel as if i am a part of you ask we speak.."
-anonymous

the biography of Char'Nae:
it happens day by day.
my past
is merely
what my foundation is.
the biography is being written now.
and in a
sense,
youre
apart
of
it
in this moment
in time,
this space in
life,
in between
the words we
type.