poems

COME WRITE ON ME watch me naked hoping wanting needing knowing you coming write on me stick firm black pen through my paper thin spill me ink stain come write on me times when you gone long and times then cant come often times wished you here to write me with Vou-Dou coming on me drip sweat cross me rhythm repeat gently rapidly near end flip me begin again come, write on me * THE VIRUS jaw bones torn open by mouth irons we were force-fed yuro tongues mouths clamped shut nostrils stuffed with sugar cane and cotton ears, pores, private holes we could not regurgitate the poison english is neither proper nor standard we relinquish all rights for a shot at the man * CAN'T HELP MA SELF i must write words on pages soul in stages fried fish swimmimg in gravy i am an alphabet junkie i must write pen hits paper and i deight joy for me, words are enough the first book i set out to memorize was tough (a dictionary ) at six years old, i loved the pain only thing told me I was sane i must write till the rhyme falls dead and not even vacuums dance in my head long after my hands callouse and smell i need ink on paper like oxygen i must write this is when i breathe again ink hits paper, i breathe again and suddenly everything around me doesnt seem so sudden and the words flow off the page taking me along as I front like a sage letting me know i wont let you go write dont let me go dont let me go i must write write till day falls, crawls bawling into night write write till all ancient tendencies beat to death all aspects of modernity then write write for its rebirth yes, yes, yes write * GHETTOINK DAT'S RUUUGHHHT! wordSlingAH! back product cooked mo' potent than crack (or crystal) Ma Method drums rolling when Winds get to Rhyming opening Space to Breathe these beats 'bout Ma Life in so, act like yah know this MA DEN, not yah cage and F.A.y. who think A dont act Ma age * CALLING again, to this doorway in the road i came again, it swung open, hinges calling my name cindy, oh cinnnnnn... come on inside hesitation, my companion, both fearing my find wondering what lay beyond such decorative oak wondering where's the way around when again, the hinges spoke Child of the Morning, Sunny Soul, Sunday's Best, you gonna limbo eternal should you refuse The Spirit's test i turned in a circle seven hundred days, i spun denying reality, to poisoned melanin my weary bones clung i questioned being chosen a million excuses but ne'er one could provide me sufficient reason to not honor time's song my path was straightforward brightly lit, sunny clear to get beyond my nowheres i would have to return there again this oak doorway handcarved Sitting Cross the road again Antique Hinges swinging, singing Chile, Welcome Home * CERTIFIABLE C.O.W. Amma Crazy Woman A stay up all night searching words to write Knowing A want them say this Ma time this here, MaMa day like a crazy woman A know Ma Delights are knotted up tight in policies A dont control and mission statements written to naught out Ma Soul Preacher Rusty Hands all up squeezing Ma Ovaries Thief Loress Fockah out to jack HipHop from me but like a crazy woman A stumble pass dem blinding light smog stomping down Ma Might Am a big game hunter trapping dey words and making dem say this Ma time, this here MaMa day Amma Crazy Old Woman! * 1 DEFINITION HIP HOP Is Me Manifesting The Understanding E'rrrythang I need To Succeed Is Already In Me ©®2008CINDYADRIENNEQUASHIE Currently reading : Black Women, Identity, and Cultural Theory: (Un)Becoming the Subject By Kevin Everod Quashie

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