i would wake you gently
when slivers of sunlit strands
would stroke your eyelids softly
i’d follow the trail they left with whisper-light kisses
feathering my love across your lips
tempting you to embrace the morning

with a firm expression of your passion

yes
i would always wake you gently
because there are always better ways
to be awakened

photo credit: zhouxuan12345678

sometimes i think about suicide
because my pain is so real that it’s alive
crawling under my skin
my entire life feels like one big sin

that i can never repent for.

sometimes i’m very close to suicide
handful of pain pills always by my bedside
i try and hide it most of the time
but most days just walking makes me want to
lay my head on the wall
and just cry

but i’m one of the lucky few
with loyal friends and family who know what to do
to pull me away from the precipe

before my hate of pain
turns to apathy
before i turn into someone
i can’t see
before i’m beyond the reach of
any
therapy.

i own my issues
and try not to spread my sorrow
but for some reason knowing
someone looks forward to my tomorrow
makes me postphone my gloom
just long enough for me
to want to live.
for me.

you can’t ever be someone else’s reason to die
losing them is not your fault that’s such a lie
but sometimes.

you can inspire someone to live.

*i’m in no way suicidal NOW. But I was when I wrote this.

And I wrote it because some people in my life didn’t seem to understand that suicide is the ultimte manifestation of a very painful mental disease. It’s not an act of punishment or spite.

And since even a doctor doesn’t set his own broken leg, the way to help isn’t through blame or shame. They want to end pain, not teach someone a lesson. If you’re reaching out to someone at the end of their rope, think about what that rope is. Ease their pain and get them professional help. If you know someone who is suicidal, try these resources:

National Suicide Prevention Hotline:
1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433)
Deaf Hotline: 1-800-799-4TTY (1-800-799-4889)

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:
1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255)

In the UK, you can contact The Samaritans (UK), at 0845 790 9090.

still.
i need the moments to stop for a minute
i need to be able to savor the thought of you
being serious
about the things you said to me
when you thought i wasn’t listening
i need all the times you called me baby and honey to be real
and not just what you say when you can’t remember who you’re talking to.
i need to pretend that i believe i’ve convinced myself that i’m fine enough
to be with you.

just for a few more moments before i fall asleep

i want this emotion between us that is unspoken and so real
to be undeniable.
i want the number of times we, two people who don’t like to stay on the phone,
have spoken in the past week, to be a testament to
that pull i feel
that pull i know

i KNOW

you feel.

i want those little comments you made about showering me with presents, and
taking me to dinner
to still be just sweet innuendo
to still be possible that i misheard you

i want to imagine that your calls to say good morning are meaningless
i want to believe your good night messages are just polite.

but tomorrow will come
and i won’t be able to pretend
that your gentle heart hasn’t brushed against my fragile soul.
and i won’t be able to deny
that i’ve been forward with my interest.

yes… when we start to
erase whatever we’re sharing now with amendments we make tomorrow

or

embrace our feelings fully, even if they are to our own folly…

i can’t hide in these love songs.

and
can’t drown myself in the rhythm of your heart beating in my chest,
caught up in an attraction uninhibited – unsullied – by inaction or reaction.

it would almost be better to stay in this before
than to regroup as friends or be bent by a new passion.

if only i could stay here…
before love
or the denial of…
in the fantasy of your eyes upon me that one time,
with a sea of potential magic just beyond our fingertips.

and yet i cannot

and so i drift off to slumber, seduced softly, swayed by stern songs of lullaby…
off to have my sanctuary shattered as cats are rumored to – curiosity’s casualty..

this. pain.

like background noise it goes on forever. and sure, some of it is exacerbated by stress and things psychological, and on the one hand there’s no such thing as the physical realm and we’re all just one being, individuated, projecting our reality in a dreamscape that doesn’t actually exist.

but locally? i’m in agony. and all the positive thinking and energy in the world doesn’t put it to an end.

since 1992. seventeen years.

17.

i’ve been in pain every day. every single
motherfucking
day.

no. i’m totally serious. it never completely goes away. i get to a point where i say that i’m fine because it’s that low grade ache that i can forget about if a movie is funny enough, if a lover is competent enough, if a moment contains enough joy for me to ignore what’s happening in that part of my body to go into my head and eclipse it with something mental or another physical sensation.

but yes, every day. and sometimes.

not every day but sometimes.

i’m just living for something to happen so i won’t feel like i wish i was dead. not that i’d ever be suicidal because how can you die without inflicting more pain on yourself. insert wry laugh.

see there sometimes i try to just escape it with humor. cover it up with mental rumors of a possibly better life. as if enough hasn’t happened to me in this one as if i haven’t paid enough penance having led a life of survival…

- so brutal I once tried to get it published but kept getting rejected for reasons of it being “too outrageous even for fiction.” listen to me laugh again because that’s a sidebar. i’d volunteer to live through the hardest horrors again if it would give me two consecutive days of peace in this body.

because i can’t take any more God. it’s enough. it’s too much and what’s making it worse is that I know it’s

never going to end.

and
i just can’t figure you out
i can’t figure you out
don’t know if i want to
i just can’t figure you out
can’t figure you out
loving all your voodoo

I’m trying to hold on and trying to let go. Loving the secrets of you. Loving not knowing exactly how I feel or how you feel and you’re getting to the end of my probation. If it was up my heart the answer would be yes but I confess that I’m afraid of you. Always trying to prepare myself for the possibility that you’re no longer feeling me.

Silly, I know. You’re always so honest that I could just ask. And the things you do, what you say, and the way you treat me should be enough to keep me from thinking I need to guess. All I know is I want to go slow and easy and yet be sure. Can’t bring myself to do it yet… I’m loving the sweetest agony at this mystery…

and i
just can’t figure you out
can’t figure you out
not sure that i want to

can’t figure you out
can’t figure you out
what am i gonna do with you…

You’re a puzzle to me that’s for sure. Mixing magic with the mantra of mellow melodies. Pressing piano purity on pleasurable penalties. I waver between being sure that you’re for me and thinking that maybe this was just a season of the reaffirmation of me. Whatever happens you’ll always be dear to me and this is new to me — I’ve never felt like it almost didn’t matter if it didn’t work out the way I wanted it to, having been blessed with the reward of … you.

You’ve taught me what my prototypical man should look like. Reminded me how a lady ought to be treated. Showed me my own beauty. And whatever happens I’ll never forget that about you.

So I just want to thank you.

i can’t figure you out
but it took me my whole life so far to figure out me
i hope i get the chance to spend an equal amount of time
in discovery of you but if it’s not meant to be
a forever type of thing
i hope you know that you brought the song back to my heart
and I’m always going to be so so grateful… to even know you…

yet

climaxing into your observant gaze
seems a fair trade
to feel the flame of your tongue
licking my body clean of desire for anyone else but you.

how did i get here?
how did you happen to me?
i’m supposed to feel like i’m not free
but being with you for some reason

is not smothering
you hold me tight but your grip doesn’t break or crush my air

and i love that you’re with me
but i do remember that at some point
i did swear
promised myself i was only near you to feel the warmth of your flame
not to be consumed by it
took my oath on not falling like this
on not liking anyone enough to miss
on not being kissed…
on not looking into your soul
on not losing control

with the frustration of a passion unleashed
for almost a week
i have to admit…
i actually like the effect you have on me…

maybe…
even love…

and me
knowing what was about to happen
and fighting myself I turned
but you found me
and with the softest touch
began to melt my defenses

once our breath mingled i was done
with every bit of passion I returned your kiss

you.
paused.

before tasting my desire again
and every day I love to return to that eternal space
before that next dangerous moment

and your continued journey
down the other side of my throat

I feel like….
Beauty, if she were a Goddess.
Song, if she were an apparition
Like some lyric laced over the hottest dance track
And I have to tell you it’s taking me back to indecision
My former resolve to not fall for you is slowly slippin
Man I’m trippin

And as I remember you breathing insanity back into me
Full on resuscitation of my soul
Mouth to–

well.

Lips.

See? You’re making my brakes slip
I really am trying to have fun
And let these moments live
And let whatever naturally unfolds between us
In its own sweet time unwind..

But you’re making me weak
My former resolve needs re-tweaking
Or maybe I just have to stop speaking to you and run away

Because the funny thing is?
It’s nothing you do to my body.
— Don’t get me twisted, if your fingers were the military I’d be enlisted.

What I mean is…

You remind me of how beautiful I am
Of all the things I have done and can do still
In a way that I don’t forget after you’re gone
Or even if you never came back

And

The way you touch me when we’re supposed to be asleep
The kisses you affix betwixt the bliss of moments play, making my heart beat miss steadiness
The readiness you maintain to rescue my mood from even a moment’s pain

You listen and remember
So un-hesitantly tender
So…

I could go on forever
About the way you make me feel
Even as I’m looking at that word, afraid, unsure if you’re for real

Despite what you say

To be honest with myself
I still find my soul in chains
Yes I’m slowly letting go but
Until you tell me you’re mine
I’m going to enjoy you and this high
Biding my time

And if it’s never to be
If it remains a fantasy
I’ll never
ever
forget how

you made me into poetry

picture she black
she bring steel spine like winnie cries
but they couldn’t break her spirit w/vicious lies

picture she black
she bring love And power like Cleopatra
but scorn her and there’ll be War coming atcha
she bring victory and muscle like Nzingha queen
what stands short can haunt your dreams fierce and make you scream
she bring thought like assata- it aint free
but if things was right they
oughta be
picture she black

picture she black
reborn
warn torn
free form
picture she black
picture she you
picture she me
picture she future

today she sits one visible brick
on an invisible foundation
hidden criss crosses of connections
bringing like minds together across space-time continuums
we exist in the now
scribing a foundation
dancing as
one movement
one mind
building
one nation
building fires for others to seek
smiling into the future of a
realigned
redignified
redefined
society across man-made divisions and lines… across time…

picture she black

she stand tall with a poem in her fist
she seem to stand tall even when she sit
she sing subtle sob songs of pain
in face of oppressors
smiling softly to hide the seething
smiling an undecipherable liberation
into our hearts across time
picture she black

she crouch on invisible subway
she skin so dry it crack
she takes them to the line
aint even no looking back
even if they scared or shy
she say ‘you can be free now and die, or
you can be free later alive’
smiling behind a mask of iron resolve
across time
picture she black

picture she black
she bring blue stain scars of cotton pain
she withstood the storms so we who she knew would be born
would all be free someday
picture she black
she breathes free looking at the stars
with no care but progress
she proud of her future and her history
she never know what it is to be
cold, hungry or enslaved in mind or body
she can love without fear
she can write without starving
she can appreciate her own beauty
she can live anywhere
she can go when she pleases
she can easily breathe in
she can
she can
she can
smiling into a history book
looking at us who paved the way
thanking us in her heart for our bloodied tears and aching backs
when you are weary think of her, maybe your great-great-great-great-great
grandchild
for her the pain is worth it

picture she black

you are my Beloved
my dearly beloved
the only essence enough
to fill the immeasureable expanse of my heart
which only opens to occurrences of your opulent adoration.

and i am beyond love
so i make up words and say I
Belove
you.

and what is it to Belove?

when i scribe memories of moments on the back of time,
when i invert rhyme to realize the poetic bliss of you and our union
when i exist on top of a minute of blue surreality, under the infinity of your eyes.

this is Belove.

when i burn in my yearning for the turning of churning a discerning tactile treaure between my lips locked on top of the soaring mist of sunrise’s kiss within you,
when i sit upon my fleshed throne with a supple smooth as silver sword sheathed in sublime suck-tion of scintillating sensual support,
when i taste temptation of a tongue which once turned trumpets into tunes and now turns tunes into torrents of tanka-like treats that tumble into trains of ‘Trane,
when i drink down the dearest of my delicious dreams which dance delighted out of my favorite pinnacles door,
when i stir cycles of commitment in circles completing cylindrical seas seeking the circumference of coming to your call to cum for you,
when i triangulate your want and become congurent to your desire, perpendicular to the spot you want blessed, laying diagonally from the best thing that ever happened to me,
when i surround your pain and subject it to sonnets of songs wrapped in love and dipped in tomorrow, simmering a healing touch, writing words directly to the heart that is parallel to my own, hoping i can soothe within as i stand on the perimeter of your spirit, the radius of us,

that is Belove.

and since this is that and all that is also this, i guess that’s that, at least that’s what Deepak said.
but let me break it down some more.

we are
Beyond Love
we are
Souls Mating
In Unconventional Ways
Our Love Affair
is one where
we cannot measure our mutual pleasure
in seconds, eons or days.

so until they come up with a better way
to say forever
i will find or make up words to convey
This One Thought
that sets my spirit to melody….
I Will Love You Always.

So greedily do I gulp down memories of your sweetest flesh, hot against my mouth.

Playing my tongue against a recollection of your lips, I slow down to a sip, not wanting the drink of that image to ever fade. Because I remember, yesterday, the wave of euphoria, back to that first day you kissed me.

Pondering the lifetime and wanderings between now and then, it feels like I’m in a fairy tale, one of those where the protagonist follows fortune with a young expectant heart, constantly blessed with abundance, even a child, but not a lasting love. And he returns home, one day, hunts down the sweetheart who was there before the fame, and returns for her, sweeping her off her ground onto a cloud departing for the paradise only two twinned hearts can create.

That look in your eye then. I knew you were leaving and that I adored you but wasn’t ready for you to stay. How lost I was after your departure, not realizing you were the missing piece. Amazed at your nature to just treat people so humanely. Acutely aware of the extra you endow me with.

Which somehow whirls me back to when we reacquainted, just a few heartbeats ago. Hearing your voice filled with excitement upon seeing me before I knew you were there. Returning to you and being enveloped in … strength. safety. warmth. affection. Like a huge blanket of sweet fond feelings.

I could feel more from that hug that in some of the more lavish verbal expressions of love I’ve been offered.

Pulling away from you in surprise and experiencing delight at that approving, devouring look of yours that I remember. Then hearing you verbalizing it on top of my own glowing review of you.

Suddenly it was as if something electrical had reconnected, something so subtle I didn’t know it was gone until it was back. Powerful, but subtle, like beautiful music playing at a background level.

There is much of you that is unexpected. I thought I would find someone who was not nostalgic, missing me, finding me again, a pointed search for who I was, the me I still am. I prepared myself for a different type of approach to affection than I’d prefer.

Wrong again. From the easy way we fell immediately into holding each other, to hugs upon request and walking hand in hand so easily and comfortably, I could imagine how a less worthy woman would complain, as your ex had, that you were too affectionate with her. Whereas I believe there is no such thing. That an abundance of physical affection can compensate for so many other shortcomings.

And I know you have them somewhere, shortcomings. I have yet to make their acquaintance and memory does not serve me well there. I imagine that yours are many minor, rather than one large unmanageable.

None of which were shown in this first time you kissed me. Like some merciless attack against every logical counter I could imagine. An eraser of all doubt.

Bringing me to here. To a trust I once thought impossible. To a budding in me I thought I had buried again. Back here again. Staring up in your eyes, believing.

Faith in the entwined portion of our destiny.

And.

I, again, am yours, for that moment. We’ll see what happens next…

just the breeze from our twin passion could light candles
to burn a flame only this desire could handle…

I dream of you.
when my eyes are open
and I wait
to see if you are my dream come alive.

you are

the answer to questions unasked
a single sweet icicle of promise in an unending desert of summer.
thought you a mirage
because of how quickly circumstances changed
from near
to a little far
to moving to the West someday soon.
i was wrong.

you are more than real.

not a deceptive bone in your body
not a single atom that fakes integrity in your form
not a runner in the direction of away
just a leisurely captain of a ship that sails in languid tiptoes closer
enjoying the journey.
i like that.

you are
the one i hold in my mind’s slumber
and awaken happily
…sometimes with moments of you
pressed to my chest
cleched in sheets wound round my legs…
but mostly dressed in disjointed fragments of mirrored smiles
… i never remember my dreams that come true

you are
brilliance dancing off the page and into my blood

you are
illumination sliding slowly from the farthest point in the universe
that has been on its way to me since the beginning of time
surviving light year travel to whirl around this humble earth
whirling your luminescent intellect across each life you touch

you are
song sung without words
jazz even without sound
my thoughts scat you all day long

you are
a quilt of saved pictures
recorded voice
mysterious letters formed to conquer me
watercolored or oiled familiarity

you are
what i see in the mirror
when i look into the hunger of my own eyes

you are.
and that is all i need.

you are
the one whose
soft caresses of my higher self
fresh as new baby’s breath

you are
the one shining
purple moonlight
so surreal in its incredulous
impossibility
and yet?
you exist…
in a line as fine
as that between love and trust

you are
the one i want to hold at night
pulling your sweet scent around me
as soothing as a lullaby
taking me to yet another world we share
our paired air soaring us to the potential bliss
of evening oblivion or adventure.

you are
the one whose thoughts awaken me each day
as i sit upright in bed knowing you are near
hearing when some part of you calls to me

you are
the one who brews inside me
as my storm
raining upon my heart in soft consistent trickles of comfort
murmuring your thunder to me when i stray from the path to happiness
lighting the way with your flashes of love
streaked across the sky of my thoughts.

you are.
and that’s all i want.

Tinu in Soul and Memory painting - Click for larger image.

we are sitting on a conjunction,
you…
…… i….
conjugating the world between us to
our likeness as best we can

we pause/knowing
there is only so far we can go
yellow traffic lights are our emblem.

also…

we creep towards bliss
slide as languidly as possible
in the direction of kiss
not wanting to destroy
chances to create

knowing
we may have been too late to taste
the wonders in each other
the twine of matrimonied lovers one far day
so we stay
transfixed to this
transition….

too….

we invent a space
to live
a home in each other’s hearts
neither friend only
nor lover yet
simply love unexamined or debated
adoration demonstrated
on page’s words
to be one day heard
in verse of song
or
lifted out of souls that long
to recall each other.

but differently.
for this is no re-run of near past, no.
our world is a stage where the same players
repeat similiar dances through ages immemorial
our ancestral memory is shared
choreographed fight with fate
repaired
i sit in quiet recollection
of eyes that used to drink me
on quiet nights deep in the delta of the Niger
showing me
how love is supposed to be
how real men love unafraid in this world

let the world-bound dispute
our shared remembrance…
spirit’s knowledge overrules…

in addition….

mortal realms eventually interrupt
our silent reflection of day’s past
forcing us to look upon today again
where we do not know where our heart’s embrace will lead
where my vision of carrying your seed is invalidated
where your declarations of me as lovely are
ignorant of the fact that
your beholding eye
is what makes me the precious night flower of the universe
and your reflection is
what gives any pre-existing beauty of mine
wings
to fly into your heart.

furthermore…

the summation of all these realities
cannot combat the fact that we must wait
for life to unfold to us an opening
if there is to be one
wide enough for us to walk through together…
or painfully drop hands and pass through life apart.

the irony is that
these precious moments you have given me
these possibilities you have shown of what adoration can mean
these bilssful moments, short as they may be
were given with your love
and if i need to be sustained into the next world
i dont know if i fill you likewise
but for me…..
any secret seconds we share are enough….

still i hope for the chance to repay the golden era of rebirth you ignited in my life
in a future where one day our lives will move beyond this stop sign
and destiny will reward our patience
with the chance for us to….. one day…..
finish falling in love

Tinu in Soul and Memory painting - Click for larger image.

i seek water
from the bottom of my soul

they were bringing me over
i sat silent at the bottom of a womb’s dream
it called me forth into the darkness
come it said
pointing me towards a small dot of light.
majestic primordial sound
oozing beams of celestial’s caress
dancing
spinning
into the dark of me
skin with gold undertones to make me free
they touch their amber hands to me
i… remember..

i seek water
from the bottom
of my soul

it was their hands that charmed me.
disarmed by the graceful long fingers of silver fire
tracing tears drops in a clear glass of ice
sliding down my throat in perfection
as i stifled grief
and tried to bring forth the God in me
She crept silently into my awakening
He lived loudly in the sleeping crowd of me
here they said
these are why you were born
and they lay crystal visions.
i saw his face, prophetic.
there is purple painted across
my dreams of him.
i … recall

i seek water
from the bottom
of my soul

will i be nourished?
can i be fed on what i am?
can i drink deliverance made from myself?
did the spirits lead me here only to die?
was the fire inside a lie?
who
who will fill my cup
if not i?
i will sing him my spirit
and have him live
even if it means i give my life for his.
i’m hoping the gates will open to us both
together
that much later the doors will open
that much sooner we will dance together
that his care means i can now satisfy the hunger
his nourishment has stroked to a famine within me
but i remain grateful for the hunger
and i hope to quench his thirst.
i…. recollect…

i seek water
from the bottom
of my soul

the pool of me is drawn
cups runneth slower
please.
of me there must be sufficient
of me i am sufficient
of me there will be a flowing river
that quenches my mortality
and buoys my spirit up
he will rise within me
rise
i
am beyond a need to fill myself
up with myself
i want to end his hunger
but all i have is water
i want to replenish
find my center
but the liquid drips down
relocating my middle
shifting always shifting
missing me and mixing me with
shot snifters half full of a cold forever.
i want to be eternal
and envelop us both with love.
mine for me
ours for him
this for us.
will it be
and if so
will it be enough?
i … am reminded…

i
seek
water
from the
bottom
of
my
soul
i seek water
from the bottom of my soul
i seek water from the bottom of my soul
iseekwaterfromthebottom
ofmysoul
water
from the bottom
of my soul
come to me
water
from the bottom
of my soul
water my soul
water his soul
water is my soul
soul cold water on my soul
make us whole.
make us
a
whole.
make me whole.