Musical Protagonist

They listened to music prescribed especially for lovers/ Little did she know, he only listened because he loved her/ The beat of each bar and each empirical lyric/ was his music, his vibe, his movement, his spirit/ She was strong in her stance as she flowed to the rhythm/ of a song that was built on abjection for women/ The lines that she drew with her hips made him wonder/ if she knew that her beauty was something to be discovered/ His stance was quite different, more menacing, more threatening/ convinced that his posture read, “I am strong black man.”/ In an attempt to introduce himself as, “Strong Black Uhuru”/ he fell back, like a soldier in fear would do/ As she mimicked the words her lips slightly quivered/ he watched, now attentive to the fullness of her figure/ she wiped sweat from her chest, breasts slightly exposed/ heavy breathing, body heaving and stuck to her clothes/ When the beat came to close and her body was still/ her dress rejected composure and danced at will/ With all of the courage that his heart could muster/ he breathed deep with intention to introduce to a sistah/ a warrior like visage, with impeccable spirit/ trying to find words of flattery even though she didn't need it/ he approached her with avidity, when he was interjected/ by the beat of a song that he never expected/ he fell back once again like a small child, dejected/ his glass full of whiskey and his manhood...affected.

Genesis

I should have ringed you up,
Sealed and clamped you,
Pampered and stuffed you up,
Watched you bulge and subside,
Cocooned you:

The product bound and packed with love.

I owe your soul: 

untouched.
You snatched mine

It was mutual.
The stain: etched on the mind, the linen, the soul,
That loss: a step into an age
The hurt and delight, clipped to memories.
I treasured the genesis.

Should you journey back to that era;
Perhaps lose yourself in these arms,
Maybe feel the tactile spasms
Rippling through my spine.

Paralyzing.
If that was sin, consider another plunge.

This is for My People...

The long arm of the law turned into the tight fist of oppression/ I remember hanging on to that arm, but that was way back then/ I now reside in the land of free speech and liberty/ while maintaining close ties to the ones left struggling/ as I try to keep the faith and ink spills from my pen/ I cry rivers across oceans and say a prayer for them/ fragments of me float away with the breeze/ “Amandla ngawethu!” we must believe/ Umkhonto weSizwe buried deep in our hearts/ Thandanani bantu bam’, uThixo uzas’sindisa.

Unmeasured Words

My perception shapes your intentions and 
your attention evokes my affection. 
Shifting sands of impulse transform into rock hard emotions
no longer worn away by the falsities of uneven tempers. 
We are rooted in organic nature.

My heart breeds fruit that contains sustenance 
to keep this dream alive. 
We dance behind conspicuous lines but our lips never meet, 
although our minds collide with alchemic intensity:
always on the verge of something bigger than us, 
bigger than me.

Although I am taken by photography, 
pictures don’t incite me to the point of this revelry. 
I crave the muscle without the flesh; 
there’s no going deeper without depth. 
My lens stays focused on my tangible efforts:

To reach you, to read you. 

The fourth time’s a charm for a misconception so deeply rooted in scars 
and anguish and angst and aggressiveness 
that once had dominion over my consciousness. 
The bitter fruit of my heart is made nectarous 
by your loving hands. 

Since our form of communication is unspoken, but related, 

we make music that makes sense. 
Blues notes flow willingly from my soul to yours 
where they are translated into complicated melodies.
Untitled tracks float around us until we create the perfect beat. 

But until the point of acquiescence, 
my truth is quietly dissolved in this ink and through my hands. 
Cold and dark, I hold your shadow’s hand 
until I dare risk reality for a dream. 
Sparring with time and levels of comfort, 
my blues lay heavy on my shoulder; 
but such is the burden of being in love.