Birthday Wishes

If I could have one wish …
I’d wish to give you the world

Well, I’d wish for two wishes

For two worlds

Big…  and beautiful …

Identical, like twins …

Where there are rivers of sweet tea

Endless games of ‘Words with Friends’

And diner dash never went out of style

A world like you …

Powerful, yet elegant

Intelligent and fierce

I’d pray that my wishes came true

And that the words in this poem illuminate the night sky like constellations

So when you look up and thank God for another beautiful year of life

you can see my admiration for you

for all you both have done.. for me .. for your families… for the community

I hope to one-day wear shoes big enough to fill your footprints

, But right now it feels nice just to know where I’m going

To have some sense of direction

If I had a third wish …
I’d use it to address the two elephants in the room

My favorite Deltas

I’d wish to protect you from all strife and grief

And that you could live everyday like it’s your birthday

Feet in the sand, sippin’ Bahama Mamas and enjoying the fruits of your melanin

I wish wholeheartedly that I could give you everything you’d wish for on your birthday.

But for now all I can say is thank you for all you’ve done.

For being a wish come true
I love you.

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Blue Chicago Nights

Bask in the ambiance
Do you feel it ?
The drinks are cold, keep em coming
I’ll keep gulping down these liquor filled glasses
Till all I can feel is music cutting through my spirits
I can feel it … can you hear it ?
Listen .. closely
… the thump thump of the bass drum reminds me of my heart beat…
rhythmic and powerful
Connecting me to my roots
I see the homeland, beautiful…
the way the drumsticks crash on the cymbals reminds me of fireworks
Celebrating life… not for any specific reason
Just, it feels so good to be alive
Living … in the moment…
almost like time has stopped
And I’m still moving, here
Live and in stereo
The base guitarists fingers walked across the fretboard… like the melanin stained wing tips swinging around the dance floor
The midnight moon bouncing off of cocoa butter covered legs and shiny high heels
Oh I love these Chicago nights
Doused in blue lights
The pulse of the speakers woke up something in me I didn’t know was dormant,
Like a piece deep down was kicking it in Muddy Waters,
Yearning for a great migration
So I jumped and landed here on the guitarist’s shoulder
I almost slipped off as he bent over to start his solo …
Almost as if the gravity of this blues scale was too much to handle
Too much treble…
oh how I wish I could live every night this
Intertwined with this music, organically
No paper… just soul
In Chicago

Brittany’s Poem

On days like this

I imagine sitting on a cloud

on the edge

feet, like wind chimes

hanging off the side

swinging to the sweet melodies in my head

hands.. gripped onto the cloud… my fingers intertwined with its

solidifying our connection in silence

eyelids… heavy from holding back the stresses contained in my frontal lobe,

so i close them

and now I feel like I’m flying

… at that very moment

I am envious of every superhero who ever wore a cape

every sky diver ..

anyone who’s felt this alive

and I wonder… why am I on this cloud alone?

What good is being on top of the world,

if you can’t share that feeling

being doused in ecstasy

jubilance … serenity …

So I open my eyes

still avian

and I take off.. looking for a cloud to share with someone else

a companion with whom to bask in the ambiance

floating… together

3:21AM

I hate the fact that you’re the one thing on my mind

Minute after minute

Imagining your lips

as they peel back to reveal the world in your smile 

How your laugh used to wake up a room

The way we held hands

All the long nights…

I hate the fact that you’re the one thing on my mind

                                                                                    At 3:21AM …

I am up ..

while I know you’re sleeping soundly

Like a love song finally laid to rest

I am up.

Accompanied by the crickets in my chest

And the nostalgia

Because these crickets used to be butterflies  

Flapping their wings like an orchestra

My favorite song

You

dancing around in my gut.

But things have seemed just a little bit out of tune lately

But for some reason I keep on listening

                                                                                     At 3:21 AM …

I miss you

And I hate myself for it

For falling for you.

For lusting you

For loving…

Even after knowing that falling always ends in a crash

The way you make me feel swindled me into believing I can change the inevitable

Almost like it’s worth it …

You see,

I’ve written like a thousand poems

Hoping that the pictures that spill out of my heart and onto this page won’t be focused on you

But I know pieces of you that I dig out of my skin will always be buried underneath these lines

So I’ll keep on writing …

at 3:21 AM

                             at 4:21 AM…

                                                         at 9:21 AM……

Perfect Imperfections

I’ve always thought it was amazing how you can speak the breeze into existence

Almost as if you knew I need relief from a world always tryna to burn a brotha down you saved me

You gave me life again in a time where..

black boys like me are forced to count the little things like: days hugs and heartbeats

Hours, minutes, seconds, milliseconds

You make me feel timeless

Infinite even.. even in a world that makes me seem

Infinitesimal but no, I’m big when I’m with you.

I would rebuild Greece and knock it down all over again just to see your skin glisten in the spot light of our victory and together

We will shine brighter than all the stars combined

And at night I will fall for that…

Galaxy in your eye, that crooked in your smile,

Oh those stretch marks in your thighs

Your imperfections never actually seem like imperfections

More like statues on mountaintops

No matter how weathered

Still big, bold, and beautiful on display for the world to see

See , you’re the type of girl that inspires Mother Nature to create music…

so on a windy day ill step outside and close my eyes just to hear the air whisper your name

I’ll dance in the rain

Desperately trying to get drenched in your melanin

And then I’ll dry off in the day as the sun attempts to replicate your warmth but Mother Nature herself knows she can never be as beautiful as you

If I laid heart down in a Valentine’s day poem…

would you read me with your morning coffee?

Tattoo me into your memory…

then fold me up and put me in your back pocket…

just in case you need some inspiration during the day

and if you do.. I’ll be there .. waiting… patiently

Butterflies

Sometimes I realize how much I still like looking at our pictures, they make me reminisce on the things we used to do like … all those long nights spent talking or the days spent walking around, holding your hand.. just so everyone would know you’re mine.

Hot summer days, chillin at grandma’s house and chicken and kool-aid and you decided to tell me you couldn’t swim after we jumped in the pool.

I remember how your smile seemed to stretch on endlessly like corn plains. Extending for miles like… racecar tracks… like CD stacks stacked 73 inches high filled with Stevie Wonder tracks and I would tell you… that you’re my Cherie Amour. And sometimes I would call just to say that I love you, and when my friends came around I’d say “yo isn’t she lovely” and it makes me a little superstitious sometimes but, I was the happiest when you were in my life.

But then I get jerked back when I reminisce on how you took that knife and cut me. Gutted me open, took out all my vital organs and then threw me in water for the sharks to eat. You didn’t even give me a chance to swim, see I was trapped on the first day. I was hooked on your lies, allured by your disguise, you know that one you use to hide all that ugly with beauty. I mistook the feeling you put threw me for butterflies and it’s funny you know. I would’ve unlocked my heart for you. Shared with you the deepest parts of me, but all you did was give me cardiac arrest. You took that slug put two holes in my chest and now I’m left empty. That sleeve I put my heart on is no longer with me, my shirt is torn and honestly I can’t see things clearly anymore… cause I never thought love could be this painful and it’s shameful… but I still stay up all night long writing these love songs hoping that.. one day you’ll listen and come running back to me, please come back to me… beautiful blasphemy. Blasphemous that I could want you back after that breeze that flowed through your hair carried you to another man’s bed.

And to the one you cheated on me with. I hope you realize that she’s Azreal looking for another soul to take. One day you’ll come to learn that she’s a born sinner just looking for another heart to break and she’ll snatch yours straight out your chest.. crumble it up and throw it away and you’ll find a reason to pretend like the pain don’t hurt. But I hate you and I hope it burns and I hope that every time you touch her you feel me flowing through her skin, and every time you kiss her you taste every single sin we ever committed together. I hope that your dreams haunt you, because all you can ever think about is how her smile seemed to stretch on like corn plains and how her eyes seemed to be the light in the darkness. And one day you’ll stand back looking at all the pictures you and her took together.

And you’ll just reminisce.

Metaphors

I’ve been told that making love is like poetry… so maybe that’s why these words flow out of me, the deeper I go into you, but this ain’t no ordinary sex, baby.

You make me feel like alliteration.. literally like lollipops licked by little lethargic children you give me energy… a sugar high I never want to come down from…

You, you’re like onomatopoeia, because every time you come around I can hear my body snap crackle and pop just to let pieces of you in…

You, you’re an extended analogy… and once I finally understand you I will write my thesis on your body with my tongue. I want you to feel every sentence, every word, every letter…

See I’ve been told that making love is like poetry… so let our hearts beat like iambic pentameter

But soft, through walls which yonder moans will break… ’tis the night and your queendom is the ocean

Allow me to wrap your soul in lust… and penetrate your mind deeper than anything you’ve ever thought of… I’ll touch you in places only kings were meant to reach and give you kisses so sweet you’ll forget whose air you’re breathing.

and as the end of the poem starts to approach, your legs begin to quiver … and you realize you can’t take it any longer … I’ll remind you that there’s always more poetry to write.

and when it’s all over… we’ll lay there silently, feet crossed, covered in each other’s metaphors… looking for new ways to write poetry.

Lyra

In Greek Mythology there is a guy named Orpheus. Orpheus is said to have been such an amazing musician that he could make inanimate objects feel love. One of the instruments he would use is his lyre (a harp) named Lyra. This poem uses the metaphor of the relationship between a musician and his instrument to tell a love story.

You are Lyra. I am Orpheus.

and together.. we will create music that will tingle

the senses of the Gods.

For you are the brightest diamond in the sky and I

wait impatiently every night… like a child

praying for a clear forecast so I can catch a glimpse

at your beauty …

you are my instrument and I

will use you to make a river love it’s curves

you are a garden in the Sahara desert

a warm violin solo on a cold winter night

you are bliss, you are sanctity, you are desire

and I… want to become intoxicated on your skin

thrust me into euphoria.

It’s crazy how your eyes seem to able to inspire men to move mountains

and how your smile… seems to make the big dipper feel self-conscious

and I could never be lonely with the thought of you, but

I wish to never be alone with the thought of you,

because it would hurt too much to realize that I’ll never be able to reach into the sky and touch you… Lyra

sing me a song… sing me a song that’ll make all the galaxies waltz to a synchronized beat

sing so loud that the sun will cringe because there is someone brighter in the sky

Lyra… if you gave me the chance

I would play you a tune sweeter than Sunday morning

Lyra… I will take this love, these words, this music and I will rearrange Orion’s Belt, just so it highlights your melanin

and you will be the most beautiful constellation

ever.