Tag Archives: writing

WordPressident #13

Our bottom lips sticking together as we pull away from the kiss
The hug dies in our arms
Scratch on our ring fingertips as we let go of each other hands
Walking away from each other backwards with clean backgrounds
Not taking no L’s, falling in the hole of the O, getting hit by a V, crashing into a dam snake oil salesman who claims his Dell didn’t always have a tilted E
The barbecue sauce on my ribs
So I know you’re the HIS in Memphis
Okay, well, maybe for a season after I saw too much skin I bundled up and got my meat cumin spiced on a spring mattress
She was leaving before you entered the picture
Don’t act picture-perfect as if you’ve always been the lady on the other side of the noodle
Not a put-down of your frame but you know the real reason I place my hand on the small of your back in public
Sometimes to guide you to a first-class seat
Sometimes to guide you down a flight of stairs
The apple bottom of my eye is rotten sometimes
A worm on the inside, a real pain in the ass, you know
But, but, I love her to the core
Not just when she’s a snack, Apple Slices
Not just when she’s breakfast, Apple Jacks
Not just when she’s lunch, Apple Bee’s
Not just when I’m thirsty, Apple Cocktails
Not just when she’s dinner, Apple Jacks
Not just when she’s dessert, Apple Pie
When the groceries fresh I don’t need plastic
When they pass the expiration date I double bag it
Let’s eat …
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Computer Love <3

I typed H-E and paused by pressing the equal sign on the keyboard.

This was more than a blinking text cursor.

The other half was batting it’s eyelashes.

Was it flirting?

Flashing a lowercase L?

Or telling me I’m number one?

I pressed play by clicking the greater-than sign on the keyboard and proceeded to type A-R-T.

The word transformed into a picture of the word. It was a bigggggg heart. And I guess that’s what made the only thing move was the spinning beach ball, although, I wasn’t on the net.

Cursor stuck.

Cursing FUCK!

Freeze!

Froze.

Cold heart.

The mouse was just eating out of my palm, but now I’m jerking it back and forth like some string cheese.

It came to as I bowed over the desk and the arrow shot straight for the heart but because the cursor is tilted it missed.

Now the cursor is a small hand L gesture. What?! How am I a loser? I’m not responsible for the arrow being slanted. Hell, I don’t even shoot my gun sideways. I’ll leave that to your modern-day Robin Hoods. I wouldn’t try to attack the bottom of the heart with my pointer even with the heart looking like a bottom, if I may point out. I may cum across as anal paying attention to de-tails like that but fuck it!

Again, why should I have to rest an L on my forehead when there is already an S curled up there? Who am I? Clark Kent at The Daily Planet. If I throw up L then I gotta throw another L up. Laughing like shit ‘cause that’s like the bat-signal for you-know-who to roll on over to my cubicle, batting her eyelashes like Barbara Gordon. Aight, you keep doing that and your lashes gone get stuck in your eye, gone be blind as a bat. Aight, enough clowning around, let’s show my computer love like I-T.

We caps-locked lips. She lifted her foot off the ground. “Damn, her leg looks like an L.” My S curl became erect. Still a little crooked though.

Now the cursor is the rewind button, which is the less-than sign, neighboring the number 3.

We tilt our heads to the right when we’re trying to understand something.

“Understand?”

“Understood.”

To the beat.

This is our song. Let us have the floor, please.

PO’EM


Don’t tilt the novel, keys open the door
Not the ones with incisors and canines
Put the candle back, keys open the door
The ones with the chopsticks and the fork tines
Now that’s how you open a got damn book
Or a library, welcome to the shhh
Quite quiet ‘nough hear a pen drop you could
Wish Stephen Hawkings was able to pick … shhh
Lightskin from Memphis, I’m a Redmayne too
And I’m the third’s child – a john to black holes
That’s why it’s Michael Myers that comes to
Instead of Jason Voorhees on the stroll
Vrin vrin vrin on thin ice skate fall run fall
Not the great one I’m the only one y’all

Happy 7th Blogiversary FY!!!

Can a bih marry Juana in this joint?


420 on a foggy Friday day
Can’t see the forest for the tree i hug
Yeah it’s Friday but i’m going to bake
Mary Jane exhaled, “hey, no glove, no love
i don’t want your seeds that sticky icky”
So planted tulips on her rosy cheeks
And i snooped around in my blue Dickies
Fuck TruGreen! i like having grassy weeds
My i’s low no more capital letters
Uppercuts to uppercases wham bam
i got the munchies ultimate cheddar
Catching a red-eye flight to Amsterdam
Going back to Cali for brownie points
Can a bih marry Juana in this joint?

Look At My Kitchen

Look At My Kitchen: May 17,2006 

A person who is a restroom is used like a cliche

A person who is a restroom is treated like shit

A person who is a restroom is always pissed off ‘cuz they’re pissed on

Follower look at my kitchen

A person who is a living room is for eyes, not hands

A person who is living room is never used

A person who is a living room shows off when the show is on

Follower look at my kitchen

A person who is a bedroom sleeps on the job

A person who is a bedroom will get enough sleep while they’re alive and when they’re dead

A person who is a bedroom painted over the writings on the wall

Follower look at my kitchen

A person who is a kitchen fries bigger fish and wash bigger dishes

A person who is a kitchen is not judged by the size of their refrigerator, they’re judged by whats in their refrigerator

A person who is a kitchen can take the heat as well as giving the heat

Follower look at my kitchen

The earth is a household that as 4 types of people in it, which one are you?

I am a kitchen – William Hughes

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

 

 

Momma’s Boy: A Poem for My Mother

Famous Last Words: October 21, 2006

 

Betty **** did not save the best for last

My mom made her mother a grandma first

My mom made her sisters want to have kids

So my cousins should thank me for their life

My mom and my dad should have got married

So the name Strong compliments what she is

Damn I wish I was born on Mother’s Day

Cuz there is no gift like the gift of life

My son will be named after me, his pop

My daughter will be named after my mom

Mom did not raise me but I will raise her

I will die for you mom, you gave me life

Harold … I’m the work of art Betty ****

Pen running out of ink, mom I love you …- Artist of the Year

Happy Birthday Ma!!!

 

 

Daily Writing Prompt: I’m From …

Person – Jenkins, what are you still doing here? Alvin is on his way out.

Jenkins- I know. I’m ready for him.

Person – What do you mean you’re ready for him? You can’t fight!

Jenkins – I know, but I’ma scare him with 4 words. He’s gonna get spooked and run in front of everybody, and I’m going to look like a legend.

Person – Are you serious? Oh my God! There he is!

Jenkins – Watch this … I’m from Brooklyn, son!

Person – He’s still approaching!

Jenkins – He probably didn’t hear me. clears throat I’M FROM BROOKLYN, SON!

Person – He’s not stopping!

Jenkins- I’m from Bed Stuyvesant and I’m the livest one. Home of B-I-G!

Person – It’s not working. Say another place!

Jenkins – I’m from Chi-raq, you know, Chicago and Iraq.

Person – He is marching over here like a soldier!

Jenkins – I’m from Kiladelphia!

Person – None of those nicknames are working!

Jenkins – I’m from Detroit, home of the bad boy pistons. Isiah Thomas and them. Oh My God I can’t think of anymore places with high crime rates.

Alvin – steps in front of Jenkins and looks left

Person – I’ll watch it on TV runs off

Jenkins – stammering Did you hear where I said I was from?

Alvin – It doesn’t matter where you’re from. It matters where you’re going.

Jenkins – Where am I going?

Alvin – To the hospital, but don’t worry, I’m going to make sure your teeth fly out your mouth and land in each of those places you just named. Home sweet home!