russian lullaby.

it's my half birthday. oh yessssss!

and i start school [summer @ uc] in the morning.

and im soooo chi-city in less than a month.

and my best friend will be soooo cin cin nasti in a month.

summer is about to get good. starting today

and what better way to usher it in than with a complimentary poem?

russian lullaby.

that's the name of my favorite

john coltrane song because it literally

lulls me to sleep, eyelids heavy

the cares and concerns of the world tucked

under my pillow until i wake

and right now the song

is playing but i'm wide awake

sitting up in my bed, texting

you and smiling inside when i hear

the ringtone back because

how could i possibly sleep

when you are on my mind

and i know i've gotten it so wrong

so many times this year

that i could be a jaded angry bitch

giving you the third degree

and on a questioning rampage but

i learned from my mistakes and

heartaches and i now know

that rushing in head first doesn't work

it's best to take it slow

and it's nothing but a crush

but i feel debilitated like i have got

to know everything about you

the reason behind that smile and

your favorite things to do on weekends

and the type of music you work out to

and. everything.

i'm trying to fall asleep

but you've got coltrane beat

F.I.L.A.

in atlantaaaaaa. amazingness to the utmost extremest powerrrrr.

F.I.L.A.

we memphians have been raised

to hate on atlanta

out of principle

no real reason of merit

and i had never been

due to that fact until

my twenty first year

and now that i'm here im

in love with the sprawling city

with the district im in

with its quirky stores and

mom and pop coffee shops

with hipsters and gangsters

intermingling on the same curb

waiting for the crosswalk to suggest

that they walk across the street

together

and despite the marta madness

and the other glaring flaws something

makes this city larger than life

i know how long i'm going

to stay

but how long will

other obligations keep me away?

what?

AHHHHHHHHHH MY LIFE! SENIOR YEAR WHAT?!!!!!!!!!

what?

i just feel that

everyone thinks

that im this

person

that im not

and sooner or later

the mask will fall

and the horror

of who

i really am

will have them all

set on their heels

and

running out the door

planes.

atlanta so soon. it's crazy. summer is about to kick into overdrive and before you know it...lap 4 of 4. otherwise known as senior year. insane.

but until then, here's one for the road. or the sky. we'll see.

planes.

there's something that scares me

something so unforgiving

about a boeing 747 that

sets me on absolute edge

because if it falls out the

sky

the only one to catch it

and cradle it to a safe slumber

is God

so i'd rather stay on my two feet

plus four wheels and

traverse across the country

that way

but to limit myself and

to clip my wings so that

i stiffle my destinations

is not the will of God

i'm always

so worried

about falling

about failing.

be

cause

what

if

i

hap

pened

to

sprout

wings

take

off

and

soar

?

hide and seek.

it's summer. i'm tripping until june 6th when i leave for ATL. so until then...random spurts of poems that hopefullyyyyyy i can manifest into something decent during the school year. after LSATs of course. but thats another story.

hide and seek

i've spent the better part of my
adolescent and young adult life
yearning for
the bad boys with sick wheels
the pseudo - intellectuals
the captains of the football team
the poets with no substance
the XYZ strolling at the party
the rapper with one mixtape out
and every time they've been
piss poor porta potties
full of themselves
from everyone's shit

and the past three years
in the gates of black and gold
the same story has been told
year in and year out but
some how some way
our paths must have crossed a hundred times
and my eyes were fixed on
an aluminum and tinfoil prize while the treasure
walked briskly down the promenade
head buried in his chemistry book
late for class

and i cant help but wonder if you're
a figment of my imagination
an mirage for my parched soul and
wounded ego but from where i'm standing
you look like the real thing
and i think that is what scares me the most

because
maybe i'm destined to marry a poet like me
and have him whisper sweet nothings
that dance in one ear and drudge out the other
maybe i'm destined to marry a businessman
who only speaks NYSE and WSJ
and looks up occasionally from his Economist
maybe i'm one of those girls
who get what they thought they wanted
because they didn't keep their eyes on the prize
like martin suggested so long ago

but now i see
that the beautiful blinding truth
with a beautiful blinding white smile
has been walking past me for semesters now
chocolate coated skin encompassing his frame

and i feel like i'm too late
but i can't help but look. and sneak a peak
here you've been for the longest time
while i've been playing hide and seek

weddings.

there's something about a white dress
and everyone standing up
on their tippy tip toes stretching
to get a good look at you and
a good vertical headshot to put on
facebook/myspace/twitter
while you walk down the aisle with
your daddy

and you reach him
the man that you dreamed of
who seemed to have manifested himself
from old games of M.A.S.H. at 7th grade slumber parties
and now he is here in front of you
professing to the whole world that
you are his lady
you're everything he needs
and more
[he wanted you to walk down
the aisle to that song but you
said if he wants to marry luther
he could play it all he wants]

and then you kiss and then
you take pics and then
the reception is next
your uncles are drunk and toasting
to everyone and anyone who is listening
and his evil great aunts are whispering
in the corner about how the flowers in
the centerpiece arent classically tasteful
but it doesnt even matter
on a day like today you have
the rest of your lives to deal with the
mundane

to the men out there.

so i need to apologize. i didnt get to finish my 30/30 blog because of finals! wackness. but i loved every day of it.
since then...im now a senior. crazy. i went to atlanta to work at a homeless cafe which changed my life. and i got robbed in the process..which is a story [or a poem] for another day.
now im back home. its summer. and.....the best is yet to come. let's go!

to the men out there.


to the men out there
especially you in particular
i cant let you walk away from
an unfortunate situation thinking that
all women are the same

and i cant let a black superman turn into
an evil villain, a bad guy
your cape collecting dust in the corner because
your heart was broken by
a careless woman
miss kryptonite

because we XYs
we were all made equal but different
leaving you in
the cold with one hand full of twelve roses
and the other empty with
no palm to hold
is something that i know that i would never do
to you

and if i ever met a man who took the time
to take me out every weekend
to call me up every night
to send me gifts just because he can
to and loved me for who i am
the way you did
for her
i swear that i would never
let his hand go he'd be mine forever
and you'dve put a ring on it
a long time ago because you see

i know alot of other women just like me
yearning for men like you to appear
but its an oasis out here and we're tired
of these god damn mirages so we'd rather be parched
choking on dust and sand
than crawl desperately to the next fleeting image
the next man who isn't worth shit
while you sit in your room throwing
those flowers for her in a trashcan
taking
the pictures of yall of the wall
putting them in a drawer
sobbing all alone
because the woman you loved let you go
and you can't figure out where you went wrong

let me tell you that not every woman will
appreciate your grandeur and affection
some women want to be thrown around and
roughed up before they know that love is real and
some woman will take your kindness and diamond karats
with smiles on their faces and run off in the sunset
tugging your heart on a string behind them and
some women may care about you but can't find
a way to tell you so and they may fade away
too

but please
don't let this discourage you
and don't let this encourage you
to become one of those men who treats
every girl he sees like a ho who thinks
of women as sperm dumpsters and not queens
who fucks them
who leaves them
who retreats them for the next usual suspect
who couldn't spell out the word 'love'
to save his life

i promise you that everything will be alright
despite that lately your day and night
have been turned upright have
faith
and believe that when you find the
woman of your dreams
that love will be ordained and she'll stick
around
no matter if its sunny or it rains and she'd
rather die than let go of your hand and
she'll tell everyone that you are HER man
then you'll really understand that

a good woman
is hard to find
a good man
even harder
and we're all tired
of playing these games of
hide and seek
lost and found
there are women who give
anything
to have you around so if
nothing else
this poem will achieve
dust off your cap, sweetheart,
you will save some woman's day
you just have to
believe