WHEN A WOMAN FEELS

When a woman loves it intrigues,
Her siblings, friends, colleagues
Her gracious warmth and care stands in a league of its own
And the loyalty that’s shown may as well be carved in stone.
When she says she loves you
She defends your life, honor and anything in between
And after motherhood with those emotions heightened
She cares a little more
Sees you a little differently
Appreciates you a little past when she did before
A woman who loves is a companion worth living for.

When a woman feels
She skips, she glides, she twirls
And like by the wave of a magic wand
She's turned into a little girl.
Daydreaming of kisses and someday becoming his misses
This is just an abyss of bliss reality sometimes dismisses
But when she begins to love a man the fantasy vanishes
As she embodies all her desires, dreams and wishes.
She no longer just wants to be his wife,
She becomes the pillar of strength he needs in his life
And his strife for success becomes hers as well
For when a woman loves there’s no story of endurance her voice can't tell.
A woman in love bears passion so intense she beams
and sometimes it seems a bit extreme
but behind closed doors it's what makes her scream.
He's never heard so loudly his first, middle and last names
plus that of a few supreme beings
a woman's love is the most passionate of all things.

A woman's heart breaks along with her body and soul
Her head aches as her mind loses control
Pieces of her shattered self know not where to fall
she feels everything at once yet nothing at all.
Numb-founded at the pain, dumbfounded at the idea of trust again
but she hides it behind eyes clear and white
without a single trace of the past teary nights.
And when the hurt threatens to trickle down her eyes,
She shies away and cries them dry till they once again tell the “I’m fine” lie
A woman broken-hearted struggles to live after she has died.

So hold her gently
Love her sweetly
Kiss her warmly
Speak to her softly
She likes to look tough but inside she’s as fragile as a child
She sometimes seems hardened but beneath as easy as a smile
Show her there’s nothing to be scared of
For it’s a beautiful thing when a woman comes to love
Tales in a thousand tongues can’t tell it well enough.

Inspired by Efo Dela's ars poetica: When A Man Feels [ http://t.co/HgpwfAmO ]

UNKNOWN

I sat knees folded on the edge of my bed
On the verge of crying out thoughts unsaid
Before me he kneels; his hands caught in mine
Eyes meet eyes, lips in line
The silence was all we heard.
We're about to break up or make up
Or lie in the familiarity we found in between
I saw in him the love and pain I felt in me
Apologetic over a dirty slate we both must wipe clean
He doesn't know how to, I can't seem to show him.
He spoke in whispers, the words barely leaving his mouth
But like a sixth sense I heard them even before they came out
He's saying goodbye without letting me go
I'm walking away greeting him hello.

In the middle we sit, together uncertain
The companionship is bliss amidst the hurting
If we're to leave here with nothing or all
Do we rise or fall beyond the curtain call?

We're a long road from the first kiss
And this feel of his lips on mine could be the last
Lest we dare to dare another genesis.
Leave us be or let us be more
Friends at heart, lovers at soul
Strangers in no place but the before.
Our embrace holds too tightly to tell
A hearty welcome or an agonizing farewell?

REVOLUTION

We are greater than it’s been said
Our blood flows thicker than that which our forefathers bled on battles they led
That which they shed upon our heads in anointing
We are discerning people who yearn and labor to in turn be more fulfilling than that on which we fed.

We are artists, decision makers and steadfast entrepreneurs
Enriching our earth with blood, sweat and tears to last past the years
Into decades, centuries and millenniums
We are the new age of freedom
From us comes a new age to stage change.
We do no lay on our backs side-tracked by monetary gain
Or tread on old paths picking up old crumbs that remain
We are the innovators, the no-Sayers to preachings the vain proclaim
We reject imitations and limitations set a stepping stone to esteemed heights
We are not fixated on stardom although our succession shines bright.

We are truth seekers, articulate speakers voicing the noise of the silent; the vibrant strength of the weaker
We are our brother’s keepers
Sisters who don’t chase misters just for a taste of a little glitter
We protect and respect our own for we are them
We are men, women and children joined at the stem
We are fine-cut stones
We are gems.
Diamonds in the African rough
Sought after and made to believe we don’t blend in with the dirt and the scuff
They intend to take us to a foreign land to be refined, that is, pretend to be one of them
But we remain grounded with the rest of the pure stuff
To hell with their graces,
The pride we bear is enough.

We are illumination to a bleak vision
The reconstruction of a forgotten mission
The proclamation that a nation broken within itself must be its own salvation
We are the revolution.
Stand Up !

WHO I WRITE

Look past the comments and likes and tell me what you really like about the words that I write. 
Are they like your dark thoughts brought to light or slight light sparks seen at night? 
Does it bring sight to the blind or life to your mind or the kind of truth only words can find? 
Do my rhymes bind the broken times like a straight edge on dotted lines? 
Like lyrics fitted perfectly where melody chimes? 
Do I get through to you? 
Are my words a righteous life force that tells a story and inspire you to write yours in spite flaws 
Does it clear up your vision when your sight’s sore? 
Or hand you goals against the odds just to even the score? 
What do my words stand for? 
Do they take you back to what was to relive on past glory 
Or from history birth out a new story 
His story, her story, my story, your story 
Stories of the good, bad and the gory. 
Do I make you sappy, happy or sorry. 
Cripple you like a broken lorry
Or itch your feet to move to the groove you’ve refused to dance to because of those who’d disapprove. What do I sound like to you? 
Am I shy like a girl to her high school sweetheart? 
Daring and defiant like ghetto street art? 
Or do I creep up on you like Biggie used to do right after the beat starts. 
How dare I use I and Biggie in the same line though 
Pardon me, maybe I juggle a couple of words just so I seem smart.
My mind’s berated with questions making incisions in my brain 
My curiosity won’t refrain me from asking. 
Do you think I show you the real me or am I masking? 
Do I talk like I walk or am I just multi tasking? 
Who am I to you?

DEAR JOHN

Baby I told you outright to treat me right or I was out like you wouldn't believe
You must've seen my naïve heart on my sleeve for you to conceive the thought that I was never gonna leave
Till you come home to this Dear John letter
This you could've done better letter
Baby, you just put a full stop to our together forever letter.

You know how hard this is for me given how much I am a romantic
And you know me to stick through whatever regardless of how frantic
But I just can't take it anymore
I can't fake it anymore
The thought of being without you lets fear sting in my heart but you're piercing that heart and I won't let you stake it anymore.
My knees bow down to the floor,
I'm slowly losing my will to live
Don't you know I need you me amour?
But you'd rather see me walk out that door
Instead of holding me back so we work out that flaw
Why wait unsure of us yet ready to thrust your fists up when another man secures what should've been yours?
Baby my wait has outrun its course.

Remember when our love was a force to be reckoned with?
Standing sturdy and daring anyone to second it
I mean we beckoned sunshine in the midst of hurricanes and rainbows would appear
And somehow here I am, in hand a farewell letter smudged from each dropping tear
In the rear I can almost hear the teasing giggles boos and jeers
Everybody plays the fool and it looks like I won the Act of the Year.

I'm halfway through this letter riddled with dismay
If only my emotions could set that door in motion and have you march in begging me to stay
Praying that you barge, rip this letter apart and delay this getaway
Better yet, erase this day, toss away the wilted bouquet of yesterday and start anew today.

I want to love nobody but you.

Call you baby while we seize moments in the sheets holding you in where no one else but our babies would pass through
I want this body to be yours and have only you enjoy the view
And this feels too strong for you not to feels it too
It it's true and you do why don't you let me know?
Let is show, let us grow, let's not blow this baby, don't let me go.
But the tears flow down 'cause I'm about to end this Dear John letter,
This you could've done better letter
And you're still a no-show.

For the first time I mean it when I conclude a letter with Sincerely Yours
Faithfully Yours
Truthfully Yours,

Your Loss.

THE GRIM POET

The voices be taking over so loudly I want to scream SILENCE!!!

But I must admit my fear of them because they do sort of have a history of violence.

Sometimes my mind’s guilty of the most gruesome crimes

Blood slimes down imagination walls from skulls shattered against them

Scattered upon the floor, the bloody grimes

Plastered across the room like an imagery of the dark times

Ask yourself not whose skulls

Sometimes they’re mine, sometimes they’re yours

Very often they’re faceless.

Do not ask me the cause of this gracelessnesss

‘Cause sometimes it’s baseless

It thrives not from here nor there;

It’s from a place called Placeless.

The madness has officially begun

And the survival rate is from zero to none.

See I knew I found a friend when I picked up my pen

And I was open to some realism to believe in the concept of Zen

Then it turned out my new best friend was my enemy

And yet still I couldn’t shake off this bond because my enemy remained my best friend.

The tip of my pen had written in a peep hole into a prison of thoughts to my soul

Each word freeing a thought was a trigger for this hole to grow bigger

Now go figure why the incarcerated lot stole a glimpse of the outside world and have been dreaming of a freedom stroll ever since.

And they’re too vigorous to convince

I can’t seem to talk them out of their rigorous goal to break free

The role’s been taken from me

It’s like that decision’s no longer mine to make so what does that make me?

A puppet to my mind’s slavery to ink

I’ve been tossed into a pool of my darkest ideologies with the options to swim or to sink

Drinking in what I can’t shut my mouth to, I’m on the brink of a breakdown

‘Cause the voices be getting louder and louder

I need a structure to think.

But then the voices quiet down and I can’t stand it

The system doesn’t work quite the way I planned it

I’m a schizophrenic artist addicted to the lunacy and can’t unhand it

Mastering my art alternatively falling its victim

I’m a synonym to contradiction

Welcome to this poet’s revelation. 

PHASES

These days that add to me steal from me

I was a whole moon now crescent

A prominent face of innocence

Hassled by an ugly world left barely decent.

I must be a descendant of pain

The rain knows me by name

And told these dark clouds to hover over my head

Just to shower my shame.

And though my finger points at all but me

It is I who is to blame.

I am afraid.

Standing in the middle of myself scared to look around

Tip toeing around my conscience too scared to make a sound

A pound of my flesh for each tragedy told

Another pound still for the hurt

Now ain’t I a sight to behold!

Yesterday has grown cold

The ice keeps melting into my flesh

Seeping through my pores

Saturated with blood oozing from my chest.

I cannot thresh black from white

And so I’m stuck with the grey

The me I was stands in a distance

From the me that I am today.

But these days that steal from me add to me

I am a crescent forming into a full moon

An eminent evidence of growth

A butterfly to emerge from this cocoon.