On NOT Being: An Adult

Immaturity is flabbergasting and flamboyant
Faintly prescribed as fun

A painkiller for the dull, moNOTonous,
9 two 5 cubicle life a certain individual who devastatingly wishes not to have

If you wish to acquire a woman with perforated edges, I must warn you, you are reading the wrong composition, in the wrong facility and wasting this books’ tick tock tick on the grandfather clock
Take flight, if you must, to the nearest wherever the hell to find your platonic perspective,
stuck in green goo, robot for a body woman

You see my edges are a tad wiggly like a child ripping out bounded pages.
Untamed edges like wild lions, tigers and hares. Smooth page with perfect straight jacket blue lines.

I’m gravely aware of my worth
However if the goofy playing tricks on Mickey side of me
is much too much for your “mature” soul to bear.
Allow me to redirect you to your other left
in the direction of a pure hell bound perfection of a woman

I am a girl, a young lady, if you dare,
who’s mind will wander to Neverland and back around the world in 20 days
with a energetic sway and Hey! If this is not the product of a life you aim to achieve,
the door is over yonder. Use it if you please

“If you could just be an adult for a millisecond that would be greatly appreciated”

Fuck you for coming have a slightly terrible day please.

“Is this adult enough for you sir?”

On Being: …Just for you

Ghosts can’t be taken care of
They can only be found at the most convenience
I’d be an abandoned house just for you to inhabit it

Habits die easy with you
They twitter away with each letter drifting off like tumble weeds

Honeymoon Ave. no longer visible in the rearview


As the stereo continues to pulse those Bobby Brown tunes
The ride drags on like we’re running out of gas
And the cans, fettered to our Lincoln town car, bump a slow rumble
The road gets longer and winds around in Cirque De Solé twists
And we’re blowing up steam from the hood


“You’re a pain in my anus.”
“I think we’re in grave danger.” a mumble submerges


Wondering if this a gift or a curse
Wondering if I can be just for you


Who Drank All The Wine (Revised)

I want to feel the room spin
Like I’ve been riding on a haunted Kingdom Ka Wonderwheel
I want scrambled eggs brains
frying away each insecurities with grease slithering down a slippery throat

The wine swims like blood in these viens

“Who drank all the wine!?”
Banshee screaming
Wallet gleaming fluffy white dust bunnies

Who!? Who?! Who!?

The owls whoo in the dark of the beginning night


A dirty smeared mirror reveals
an electric shock of black bushy hair
on a scratched, tear stained brown black shadowed face

Who, Who, Who

On Being Quiet


Have you ever heard the silence
Sweep over your wild subconscious mind?

Have you ever actually listened to the birds
Ceerp in the distance of the woods?

I usually just make up conversations.

Why is it possible that silence
,in all its’ unknown glory,
seem to be
inevitably impossible for me?

Maybe I think the Boggeyman will suddenly reemerge.

Have you ever noticed the silence
and how its’ presence is always lurking but being lacerated?

Have you ever, like for real, paid attention
to the echoing boom of nothing?

Not I, that shit is weird.

I need the oh nah nah pounding of R&B hits
Or the silly giggle of a child
Or the annoying, shut the fuck up dog, barking in the backyard
Or the whispering “I Love You”‘s hanging on the wind

It drowns out the screeching quiet 
Thank God

Butter Flies

Don’t touch him, other female
Can’t you read the stamped in fire red ink forehead
“Mine- another female”

Butterflies love a good stomach
to gnaw and sink their teeny tiny pincers into
causing the heart to pump something
than sex driven, in and out yearning, desires


Feelings- oh they override circuit boards
and cause you to text first and check first
suddenly their blooming smile becomes the core of your happiness
not love, just infatuated like
What ever happened to be the tortoise in the race
Rather than running out at the hare’s pace

Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock

The time pass faster than Happy Hour- half off cocktail sale

I’m trying to get stuck in paste
than run a race that leaves
this sour taste of “feelings” oozing on my face

So I can zoom in on I
eyes blinking dark brown
Damnit, I’m thinking of your smile


“Fuck counting sheep
They never put me to sleep”

Two pairs of deep delicious brown eyes lay staring off into
different directions

One bashful pair open and glancing around the room
One sleepy pair closing, rolling over to imaginary lands

“Hey, are you awake?”

Murmurs escape a sealed mouth
The room roared it’s silent whispers


The whoosh of the breeze breezed past the silk curtains

How does one value that priceless piece of art
that hangs crookedly on the newly painted wall
When they grow tired of looking and looking
and no touching, no doing, no nothing
but looking and hoping

The eyes would suddenly twitch ONCE
or the color would magically change on the walls

“Someone should really paint these walls…”


Ladies flip your freshly paid for weaves
curl your ends like deep spiral stairs
color those lids in sparkling golds
matching bra and thong- it’s gunna be a wild night
phone on vibrate- tell your man you’ll be back

Tonight we’re going out

Ruby red slippers become 5 inch spiked heels
Shake off the double shift, overtime underpaid week with the reggae grinding it out
“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.” the women giggle with exploding red lips

White button ups slip into sleeveless, sensual bodycons
Twerk off in the middle of the strobe lit, hardwood floor
“We can’t stop, We won’t stop!” the women shout with swiveling hips

Who says guys get to have all the fun !

Blue uniforms scope out the street with magnifying glasses on bouncing breasts
Strut that Naomi Campbell walk like life was one big party
“Freeze! Now put your hands in the air and wave ‘em like you just don’t care!”Dj says

Happy hour becomes happy night
Chasing vodka with tequila, chasing tequila with a grind, chasing a grind with a shot
Beep Boop “Babe, what are you doing?” Awkward…

Wrinkling grandmothers will look on with disappointing dropping eyes

Declare your independence with your favorite gals
You’re not a whore because you shake what yo momma gave ya
You’re not a whore because you’re stained “Devil Red” tonight
You’re not a whore because you want a little fun
Elders dropped it low once too

So break ya back
Stomp your heels
Live your life just as you feel
And when the night is through
Pick up your phone and say “Nothing chilling, how about you?”

Accept You

How to be Happy [Revised]

Step 1: Be You
Explore the hidden, cloaked with bats caverns of your soul with one big flashlight in hand. Find you hiding in the shadow world of your insecurities. Write ‘em down in script, seal it with some spit and remember who you are when the world spins outside. Dig deep and pull out all the dirt “The Man” pushed you under. Stand up and roar your thunder!

Step 2: Love
Thyself more than anyone else. Who says you can’t love you like Kanye loves Kanye? Before you give yourself up you give yourself gifts, like Jesus once got his, -gold, fucking sense and fur!

Step 3: Dream
Dream a dream that burns your ass from passion, pushes you off a cliff forcing you to fly. “No dream is too big and no person too small” Be like Gatsby just minus the lies and the spies. Think of it more like he always dots his i’s and crosses his e’s.

Step 4: Believe:
that all the broadway scripts you’ve set out in your head about how your life will play won’t win that emmy award but you are not to stop 100 feet before the yellow tape of the your imaginary finish line. McDonalds wasn’t built in a day

Step 5: Fail
Crash and burn because everyone does at some point in their life. They hit a wall and smash into a million pieces but take some time to piece themselves together again. How you gone get up if you’ve never been knocked down?

Happy Birthday #1

Let me begin with a note:
1.I will not display my inner feelings at this time, just slightly graze it to save some time
2. No hoes I’ve gotten rid of them all
3. Don’t get too hype. Calling you would not be enough

I get a little weak by your presence
And I don’t actually know why…

My knees want to buckle, screaming sweet signs of glee,
Whenever you hold me

You ever feel good in somebody’s arms?

Caught me off guard a smudge of a little bit
but I’m digging it, like grandma’s savory, last slice of apple pie
Cavity worthy sweet

But this is the day to celebrate you!
So grab some champagne or others bottle too
Pop ‘em, chug ‘em till your inside turn blue and spew rainbow colored ribbons like wild streamers at parties

You’ve earned it, I think,
Although we have so far to go
I want you to know

I wish you, not the best but, a grandiose golden day for the guy who’s lashes bat bigger than mine, who’s old soul sometimes drives me crazy, who’s missing one screw but has got his head on straight and someone who’s kind of great

Happy 20th Birthday

I Want To Like Someone [Revised]

I want to like someone
Not because he likes the way my hair flies in the wind
like loose, wild, broken flower stems fluttering away from their roots
or like waves in the water waiting to be stirred

I want to want someone
And not because he misses the
sensual grind of my hips on his
or the softness of my lips

I want to like someone
Because he’s got half, if not, most of his shit together
wrapped up in a box; bow and all
who knows at times it smells

I don’t aspire to desire to want to be with someone
who conspires against and retires the dreams I have to help him.
Who expires quickly and leaves me walking on a thin white wire.

I want to choose someone…

Shiny gold trophy Worthy

I want to like someone
I want to want someone
I want to choose someone

Not someone to choose me like pulling daisies out of the field
Carelessly and in the perfect shade of “I live recklessly”
Not someone to choose me like I’m the last donut in the Dunkin’ Donuts box
Not someone to choose me like their eyes have been ripped out of their souls and they’re patting the wall with moving feet trying to find a body