you're reading...
Just Thinking, Poetry

Shhh…


image

I could write a poem that would set this room on fire;
Have the people snapping and clapping
Getting wet from my desire to entice you lyrically between my thighs 

But I 

Have a secret 

And I could write a passage about the feel and shape of my assets 
As you cup my… 

But I 

Have a secret 

See professionally my pen bleeds the needs of my community;
And I fight on the daily for the possibilities of unity;
Black thoughts grip pen; soul movements happen as I send 
Mental brainwaves to pave the way 
This is my will, my want and 
My way.

During the day 

“But as the night moves in ~ love takes on new meaning”

My pen calls a truce from revolutions truth;
At night I am thinking only of you;
Dreaming about being held in your arms; riding your charms 
Head on your shoulders 
Falling deep beneath your sheets 
Covering me in ecstasy 

but 

That’s not for the world to share 

My notebook can’t contain the spirit I claim between its pages;
Will never cling to you through ink stained stages;
That would be feigning my existence 
And I’d much rather live it.

Intimacy is a gift 

A present for just you to open and explore so whether I’m your lady 
or your whore 
only you will know 
And whether or not I’m wet 
is for you only to get 
To gather 
To soak and 
Lather in 

So as the night moves in and my pen rests a siesta gently on the night stand
and I stand naked in the night ~ 
ready to write new poems 
in Braille 
know that some tales 
weren’t made to be told, 
some videos 
aren’t made to be sold 
some souls 
weren’t made to be released 
When I cease thinking about 
Black peace, 
Woman peace 
Humanity 
it’s about ONLY my man and me…

So although I could write a piece 
Describing my desire for your piece, 
It gives me peace 
to know that I have a secret 
And I keep it 
Behind closed doors. 

_____________________________________

“Behind Closed Doors” was written as an answer to all the people who have said to me “you should write a “sex” poem.” I watch listeners at poetry venues going crazy when people (because not everyone who recites is a poet or poetic) get on the mic and just graphically describe sexual positions and add a few rhyming words.

The possibility of a strong mental connection is sensually sexual to me. Even when you drop all pretenses and “get right to it” with someone you love – there’s a beauty to that range of trust you’ve established in your relationship. So if writing about the experience is graphic then you haven’t made, created, shared, given or experienced love; you’ve simply f*cked.

Anyone can f*ck and sex with someone you don’t love is masturbation.

Making love is a connection, a joining, it’s a collective exhale; not a quick release. Its bonding not tossing aside the experience in search of the next one.

It’s exploration and discovery and it is impossible to f*ck someone you love.

Love, now that’s a complicated story that starts at the beginning.

About The "SoKey" Experience

Each morning I wake I pour myself into a goblet, slowly inhaling the scent of my own faults, swirling them around the glass, allowing them to breath, then I sip, allowing my own inconsistencies to soak my tongue before swallowing. If I am tipsy from my own frailties - I'm less likely to become drunk on yours. -SoKey (introspection)

Discussion

No comments yet.

Share Your Thoughts

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Play Catch Up-Read Past Posts!

She Writes – Date Night!

October 2014
M T W T F S S
« Sep   Nov »
 12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  
%d bloggers like this: