Sunday, April 22, 2012

Blacker Than The Night

When I stand naked facing the mirror
I can almost make out my black heart
Looming behind pale skin, twinning an
Omen; ridiculously frightened of itself.

My heart, never really mine, cajoles me,
To love someone.

An ink-pot of soot filled liquified carbon,
My heart, is incapable, of love. Caged by
A pair of tired ribs, it rests, hoping to be
Sterilized by disease and despair. My
Beautiful black heart resembles a gutter.

The blood in my veins runs amok in my
Body, mimicking an ignorant third world
Dictator, whose wives equal his soldiers.
I am the dictator and I am the oppressed.

I have the blackest and the darkest heart,
Which, when the day comes to an end,
Cajoles me, to love someone.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Geometrical Lives

My life led beside your geometry
of soft circles and bushy triangles.
Straight line arms ricocheting off
spherical mounds of your shoulders,
reaching out for the bare and gaunt
of my torso in passionate violent swirls.
And I begin my assault on the cleft of
your chin, inches away from a moment
of bare skin and hungry lips, orbiting in
space beyond their reach.