Saturday, August 2, 2008

A mis-Carried Love

Mixed feelings, are my controversy of internal struggles that makes my heart weep. Why is it that I allow myself to fall in love so, quickly. She was beautiful, enough to make God, pat himself on the back for this creation... the ultimate manifestation of femininity, my very own country sugga mama can it be, you and i one atom of life, endoplasmic reticulum, circulating around the nucleus of love, growing within the womb that God blew his spirit into. We, you and I, a lump of flesh in life, traveling through the canal of togetherness looking for a safe haven to stick to.

It was the food that we ingested from mothers nature that allowed us to continue to reginerate into an embryo of courtship. We covered ourselves from the negative forces of the world by staying within , by staying WITH, one another in love with God in the mix, just as he did when you were ovum and i was a germ of life called sperm.

Our first trimester was supposed to be one of celebration, glorious commemoration of our justified gratification of pain and troubles resignation. we came into this life together as one in the womb of love, but why are you kicking, the sack can only take so much shock? are you attempting to break the barrier that holds us as one, keeps us secure from,the violent ether of the whispers of the slinking devil who lies and waits for the children in their straight path of courting one another. it is the devil who we are shielded from. It is the deceptful intelligence that rationalizes disobedience to the creator.

I thought we gave him our word that we would pull on the mammary gland of his righteousness to purify our intentions with one another. no, please don't do that. you're breaking the sack, do you know what is going to happen... why are you doing this to us, i repeat, why are you doing this to us..........

As she floated away never to be seen again, as i began to inhale the dust in my premature lungs of love...... she said....... i am not doing anything to us, not to us, no..not to us........

but to you....

because .......... i have changed .........my mind.

Thursday, July 31, 2008

One Night Stand With........."my lady"

12:00am she pulls up to the house in her car playing a song by Syleena Johnson . Cute thick shorty with way too much ass for two niggaz to grab. But I am an ass-man and I begin to thank the booty-God for blessing me with such a magnanimous bounty! I automatically went into gentleman mode because she was dressed so damn nice, I looked at her as a sophisticated lady who came by to meet the man whom she'd been chatting online with for the last two weeks. I thought to myself, sophisticated ladies like this don't fuck on the first night, i'm not going to expect anything but the sharing of good conversation and common interests. Yes, I know it was late when she stopped by, but it was our first time meeting and i'm the one who'd kept cancelling our prior dates all throughout last week and the few days prior, so cool.

Before my buttermilk big booty beauty came by, I had dimmed the lights, lit the scented candles and straightened up the living room, even took a long shower with the loofa sponge and put all of my slow jams on continuous shuffle on da gateway laptop. This was my first date that I have had in a long damn time and I wanted it to be special. Miss sexxy Godiva smockolate walks in and she was way beyond my expectations! She looked way better than she looked on the singles website, i'm like.... daaaaaaamn. Intelligently, I give her a nice hug and finish it off with a friendly peck on that warm buttery sweet cheek of hers.
Conversation is da bomb and we're finding out that we have so much in common it's kind of scary. We're talking about anything and everything and time is just passing away without either of us knowing. It's funny how when the right songs come on at the right time, you automatically get in the not so right mood to say to yourself, "fuck the intellectual shit, it's romance time!". But don't worry, those are just my thoughts... Time is passing in sensual slow motion and all of the good lovey dovey songs are coming on one after another.

I'm remembering all over again how it feels to be in the presence of a woman with good conversation, this is the definition of intellectual foreplay and it feels so naturally good to play for, the winning team of love. It's so good, our intellectual rhythm is enter twining to a point that i'm starting to feel like this is the beginning of a newfound love, a newfound love that was just meant to happen at this place and at this time. Who cares that it was the first time we've ever met, I know i've been single and need to slow down but i'm still feeling like i'm talking to a woman who's already my "Lady". Next thing I know, my tongue is down her throat gettin lost in all of her sweet sensual saliva. She's kissin me so sweet and slow, i'm thinking that she's my "Lady" and she's loving me.

I'm thinking to myself, "does she love me? Is she gonna give me the sweet nectar? This feels so good. It's been so long since i've felt this tremble, the tremble that lives beneath the broken heart that past loves once purified." All of this is going through my mind as she is kissing me into la la land. I stop kissing her and work my way from neck to ear, ear to neck to lips to neck to ear and on and on and on....... i'm so excited and feelin so good being sensuous with my "lady", that I say "baby, lets go upstairs...." You know what she said. Of course you don't. She says, "This is only my first time meeting you." Yes, she said it so sweet, so smooth and so soft that I said , "okay baby", and just kept kissing. Top lips, tongues and bottoms are throwing love signs that would make a gangbanger dyslexic

Next thing I know , we've stopped the sensuous,saliva sharing, slippery escapade and we are now having another one of those stimulating intellectual conversations like nothing ever happened. It has been so long since i've felt this way before.

I feel like i'm not ready to date because i'm just feeling so close to her. I'm asking myself why i'm feeling this way? Is it because i'm just that lonely or is it because her words are soooo sweet to my virgin ears that when I hear intelligence flow from sweet lips, my mind just does back flips like the one who fantasizes over skin flicks, i'm like a sugar bear mentally jackin without the sweetness of my honeydip. Maybe intelligent conversation is my aphrodisiac, maybe good convo to me is like licking on the neck of the lonliest woman and hitting that weak spot.

Again, I am trying to understand why my heart is beating so fast and why am I talking to this woman like she's my lady? I just met her for the first time and we've probably have had only 5 short conversations........ The conversation was just that good, so sue me because I found love on my first date

She tells me she has to go because it's getting late and as I stand up to get her coat and purse, she asks me for another one of those mocha kisses that only a soldier like myself can give. This kiss was the mother of all kisses. This was the kiss where babies come from. This was the kiss that causes you to leave the tattoo parlor asking yourself, "what the fuck did i just put on my back????" Needless to say, no i didn't get a tattoo. I didn't have a baby. I am a straight up intelligent blackman who has control of himself. I am not like all of the other brothas out there who just run to pussy just because it's wagging it's tongue at you panting and looking all damn good. No. I have dick control, mind control, she's at my house and I am in control of what happens next and not her. Right???????? Wrong. She asks me for condoms and I inform her that I don't have any because i've been single for a while and I haven't been out there like that. She respects it and we continue the passionate lip locking ultra experience.

Oh you want to know what happened next, seeing that I am in control of the situation being the man and all????? You know what happened, she said she had to go, she said it was late, she said she wanted one more kiss, she asked for condoms and I said what I said and she was comfortable and cool with what I told her..... What the hell do you expect? She said she had to go and I was nothing but a gentleman. What else could i do but carry her upstairs with the quickness, lit the scented candles once more, took off those tight jeans, threw off those pretty shoes, laid her on the soft queen size and..................

I tasted her sweet nectar!!!!

I licked her kitty so slow giving her the best strokes that would make piccasso jealous as a mutha fucka. I stuck my finger in the kitty till she began to purr as I gave shivering strokes coupled with my wickedly retarded tongue lashes. As i'm giving kitty mouth to mouth, she is calling my name ever so soft and gentle to the point that I fell back into my trance like state again, thinking that she's really my "Lady". "She has to be my lady, the convo, she's fine as fuck, the intellectual stimulation, we have so much in common etc." I'm thinking all of this as my thick lined beard is getting a soul glo shampoo that only a good kitty can give.

On my last index stroke, I gave her the greates tongue lashing that only a lickem low lover can lash out. She comes so strong that she called my name in english, japanese, swahilli, pig latin and also an ebonic slang that only pooty tang could comprehend. This kitty is purring and purring and purring to a point that i'm asking myself how will i explain this situation to the paramedics? How do I tell them that I thought kitties had nine lives as the cops push me head first into the nigga-mobile. After the she-wolf finished her last howl at the moonless night, she just laid there and trembled a 7.2 in a way that San Franciso would still be hunkered down.

We lay listening to the thumping of the slow music from downstairs just holding one another. Now i'm feelin like the girl who gave the panties up too soon on the first date. I'm feeling insecure now, just waiting for some comforting words and a stroke of the hand while i hear the words, "don't worry, i care about you, it's just you and me baby. It was the greatest!" THose words never came, she just kept laying there holding me telling me how it's been so long since she screamed that loud. This was the only thing she said, I have no idea if that meant that I was the bomb or if it meant, " yo, good lookin' on da lickin my nigga. I needed dat!"

Only thing I know is that during all of my secret mental gymnastics, she stroked my shaft so good that I thought I was fucking a soft stick of butter. It felt so good that the only thing I remember is telling her how good it was feeling while grabbing the pillow and feeling a vicious gush of hot wax pour onto my chest from my chocolate candlestick in a way that I never ever remember experiencing my life. That was the hand job of all hand jobs!!!!! It was the type experience that would make you feel stupid for what she gave you compared to what you gave her, but the sensation of the experience was so powerful that it felt good to feel stupid and good at the same time.

6am she leaves the house and tells me that she enjoyed the time we shared talking, laughing and experiencing one another. As I walk up to my apartment and look at her drive away, I wonder if I just got played. I thought I had control of myself. I thought I was gonna tear some pussy up, thats why I took the shower before she came and also why I put on my $300 special occasion wp cologne.
The only thing I can say is that no matter what happened during those 6 hours of pleasure, passion, conversation and stimulation.............. IT SURE BEAT THE HELL OUT OF BEING ALONE. I smiled and laid in the bed over anxiously awaiting for the sun to rise and hear the telephone ring.


I now realize that she is not my "lady"

I was a one night stand

I hope she calls...

LOVE BATTLE

As we run to gather in rank before deployment, He pulls me aside to once more remind me that I am on a courageous mission that will ultimately lead to my death. I am once more reinforced with the known fact that my way of death can be one of many. I am told of the tenacious ones like myself who have sought out the same task as I who have all met defeat, misery and the worst death of deaths. I am told that the easy way out is to retreat before deployment, leave the ranks of the mighty and just go through life as one of those who have chosen not to heed the word of earthly salvation which still echoes within my soul.


I am a SOLDIER for GOD who has been put on a mission that I am afraid of pursuing once more. Many times before have I made courageous attempts to carry out my mission in different periods of time. Each and every time I have come back from battle wounded, scarred and asking Him to give me one more chance at VICTORY, while wondering if an undesired death would have been best to settle for. For some strange reason His confidence in my potential worries me that perhaps I have not the will to endure, the reasons of my doubt I still weakly justify. The history of my justifications lies deep within my broken heart of failed attempts to be victorious. But I am a SOLDIER; you will never see my pain, ask of my last cry and my ego filled laugh will weaken your curiosity. Search for the origination of my deepest wounds carried over from previous love attempts and you will come up empty.


While submerging the fear of a once more broken heart and crushed spirit, I attempted to be the victor in a battle while I had not been attentive to the strength of my opponent. You ask of my opponents in battle? Well they are women of the Lord. Women who were born of the same essence as mine- divinity. Women of God who were put in this world to give man that which he searches for to make him complete in this earthly world. Women, who have the power to crush, kill, destroy, conquer or CARE for the SOLDIER who is on the hunt for that one who possesses the gift of earthly utopia. Every soldier of God has been created to carry out the same mission as mine, but for some reason unknown I find difficulty during my hunt for the Empress- The spiritual virgin who has not been touched by man of God.


You see, she is the gift to man given from the Divine. The Empress of divine femininity…. she is the one that men kill for, the one men lie to have, the one makes the strongest one feel insecure if caught not on guard She is the one whom my heart pains for. She is the one that our lives were destined to be of purpose for, but for the righteous, she is our hunt. A hunt not meant to conquer physically, but a hunt that man must intellectually, spiritually, financially and morally prove ourselves worthy before the Lord to be husband of. This is the so called battle that we seek to be triumphant in, love is the outcome.


Lo, there are many variations of women who have been crowned Empress and there are more than one for each of us. But argue not because the Master has spoken and has ordained us to be only keeper of one of the righteous apples in His garden. But this fear that travels through the essence of my tired soul, at times I feel it is overwhelming. Why was I born in this world to carry out such a suicidal mission. Every time I go out into battle against the divine- like whispers that appear to be angels in disguise, I am suckered. I fall victim to the sweet honey like ether that flies along the whispering words of passion which strike my ears in the best of worst ways. So instead of pursuing her, I settle and continue to be lost because……


I AM AFRAID……..


TO

LOVE…..