Tag Archives: Poem

Pussy Scream

Throw me in the whore house.
Collecting stds.
He looked at my grapefruits crusting over,
I said honey you don’t want these.

I see men by the hour.
Trying to dazzle me with false power.
One brought me a flower.
I left it wilting in the shower.
We were in the lonely hour,
Reminiscing upon time lost and silent regret.
He said “Baby I’m sorry, you can’t even get wet.”
But oh he was wrong, the tear flow was strong.
My face was soaked with the ghosts
I kept to myself.

He tried to put his cock in my mouth
But I wouldn’t allow it.
So we lit up a smoke and he told some bad jokes.
About a woman named Sally, a prude little queen.
To her suitors she was mean. They only wanted the green.
Their eyes gazed diamonds and her pussy pristine.
She made them fuck off saying “Bitch I am me!”
Sally went home that night to her pretty pink palace.
She fingered her cooch and screamed “Yea I’m da baddest.”

Happiness is real. I know one day I’ll fine it.
When I get out of here, I hope to God I won’t be blinded.
I’ll find a doctor and I won’t suck his dick.
If he pull it out and play with it, I won’t even lick.
I’ll get a new job brewing coffee for the joes.
I won’t even slap my own ass or think I’m a ho.
But you know what I’m ready for?
To treat my stds and make my own pussy scream.

 

Artwork: Hypnotic Circle by Lucas Lasnier (parbo art)- https://www.flickr.com/photos/parboart/

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Fantastical Girls

Leaves of Havana
Blessing skin in the morning
With the breeze and sunlight
Feeling free to touch.

Bells chime and signal
The turns of the sea
And the ending pages of summer.
God promised we were safe.
I believe.

Romantic failures subside. We get by;
There’s still more promise
In the fruits of the garden.
Bewildered, breath stolen,
In each other’s arms.
Lost in the streets in adoration
Of the magic that could transpire at night.
Moments that we least expect
Reflecting off of Rhinestones and Remedies.


You are the girls I’ve been waiting for.
Praying as if children,
As if drunken,
As if in love.
Romance radiating in our vibrating voices.
Collecting in pools,
Blue and grey.
Swirling throughout theories of misery.
Diamond eyes and sincere smiles
Never fade but the songs we listen to.
We forget the kind gestures of strangers at bars, who stare
Whimsically within what we present as our souls.
Be they enlivened and feverish from the nocturnal essence
We evoke. Hallucinatory yet not absinthe or leaves of grass.
But bitchy and Vogue, urban and glamorous.
We are free people,
But we choose the party and deny the cars.
Because only once in a while do we give real chances to people who don’t understand,
Nor could ever dance to our rhythms
Of who we are and what we want.

4.8.07

I do things deliberately. Some things that I do don’t make sense. But I like to imagine that there’s someone who does. Someone like you. I am lost oftentimes in the universe of understanding myself with my past and tracing where the energies have transferred. Rediscovering that I am not lost. Although alone, I have friends. People who finally understand the eccentricities of my fiery crackling character. But that doesn’t take away the loneliness. Of missing what it would feel like now to have your arms around me after all these years or your lips on mine. Your lips on mine. After all these years. Have you not forgotten me? Have you not found a new love? Maybe a husband. A wife. Something that isn’t me nor what I was meant to be for you. Or maybe.

Four years ago, they cursed our hearts and called us young.
Saying we don’t know what love is.
Love is me watching you, watching me.
Love is laughter over and over again.
It is the deep gratitude for your shelter and your rescue, as it is the ever flowing of tears.
Love is not uncertainty.
It is wild and reckless and sure of itself.
Love is not a flower.
Love is not a word.
Love is all encompassing.
Love is absolute but simple, beautiful, and dangerous.
We are never fully prepared for its touch.
Love is why I love you, to show you it exists.

8 years ago on this day was the happiest day of my life.
Here is the truth.

Kuhl Leila (poem)

We are all tragic hearts
Lost in the desert night,
Broken from centuries of pain and I’m afraid there’s no cure.
Your loving can’t heal me,
But it’s a first step,
To feeling the way I deserve and the happiness I never found,
Not in the simple pleasures of shai or smelling your jasmine.

The movements in the ocean and glimmering of the stars
Beg me to return,
To the land of the cursed and the burned.
But I left with their matches
Before they could light me,
And the tears fell like waterfalls
When I saw it was my family, who held the flame,
To restore our name and reclaim drops of fame,
In the skies with angels, pools of champagne.
They swirled me lost and they lost me,
For I realized who they were:
Prosecutors of my love.
Saints for freedom but jailers of mine.

Shim el yasmine and pour its scent on my heart.
Rub it in my skin and soak it in my hair.
Because the nights that I need you are when I hurt the most.
And I need your naked on top of me,
To shield me from the ghouls of home
That terrorize when I’m alone.

Habibi, shim el yasmine
And the perfumes that pour from the holes of my heart
By the bullets of Israel, and of my father and my brother.
My own tears cannot forgive
The pain stolen from my mother’s eyes,
When I left the house in the dark of night.

The truth is that I’m scared
And only you can understand,
Because no other heart knows me like yours.
When I meet your parents, I’ll hug them with my hello,
Embracing our new world.
Slowly uncover me, falling into you.
Habibi, bidi iyak kuhl leila
Kuhl leila bidi iyak.