If I had my life to live over
If I had my life to live over, I'd dare to make more mistakes next time. I'd relax; I'd limber up. I would be sillier than I have been this trip. I would take fewer things seriously. I would take more chances. I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers. I would eat more ice cream and less beans. I would perhaps have more actual troubles, but I'd have fewer imaginary ones.You see, I'm one of those people who lived sensibly and sanely hour after hour, day after day. Oh, I had my moments, and if I had to do it over again, I'd have more of them. In fact, I'd try to have nothing else. Just moments, one after the other, instead of living so many years ahead of each day. I've been one of those persons who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a raincoat, and a parachute. If I had it to do over again, I would travel lighter than I have.If I had my life to live over again, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall. I would go to more dance; I would ride more merry-go-rounds. I would pick more daisies.
Who met another one of my friends
Now, they are close friends
Actually, they are boyfriend and girlfriend
Soon to be husband and wife
You see, when they met it was love at first sight
And that's something that I just could not, quite grasp
I just couldn't comprehend, how, when two people's eyes meet contact
Their emotions would react
In such a fact, that
Their mind would create illusionary memories that it would flashback, to
I could never understand this concept
Well, until I met
This, Ebony Goddess
This, Nubian Princess
This, Mahogany Queen
This, JET Beauty of the week
That makes me weak
With those elegant words that she speak
Like Hi, and Hello
You see, I never have felt like this about someone before
That's a little vague, let me explain it some more
I remember seeing her around campus one day
Her beauty, so magnificent, I didn't know what to say
I would find myself daydreaming
About us going on dates
Talking on the phone late
At night, going on morning
Both of us laying in our bed's yawning
Around a quarter 'til three
Talking about "You sleep" "Naw I mean I'm sleepy, but I ain't sleep"
When I first saw her, my mind didn't tarry at all
For the thought "This is the girl that I want to marry," evolved
At times I would fantasize and wish
That our lips would be intertwine in a kiss
Long Deep SoftPassionate
SubtleSweetLusciousImmaculate
A kiss so quiet, yet, it still speak volumes
Or sometimes my mind is over consumed
With the thoughts of her having my kids
Man, what a incredible feeling that is
I would sometimes picture her in the kitchen cooking
And I would sneak up behind her, wrap my arms around her waist and whisper "Hey, good looking"
You see, I don't have the words in my vocabulary to explain
The feeling I would have if she were to share my last name
I know she catches me staring her at times
And
Because when I look in her beautiful brown eyes, those windows to her soul
I feel even richer than the man who owns silver and gold
Because my heart soars like an eagle in flight
I'd like to meet:
I Know My Soul
I plucked my soul out of its secret place,
And held it to the mirror of my eye,
To see it like a star against the sky,
A twitching body quivering in space,
A spark of passion shining on my face.
And I explored it to determine why
This awful key to my infinityConspires to rob me of
sweet joy and grace.
And if the sign may not be fully read,
If I can comprehend but not control,
I need not gloom my days
with futile dread,
Because I see a part and not the whole.
Contemplating the strange, I'm comforted
By this narcotic thought: I know my soul.We have been believers
We have been believers believing in the black gods of an old
land, believing in the secrets of the seeress and the
magic of the charmers and the power of the devil's evil
ones.
And in the white gods of a new land we have been believers
believing in the mercy of our masters and the beauty of
our brothers, believing in the conjure of the humble
and the faithful and the pure.
Neither the slaves' whip nor the lynchers' rope nor the
bayonet could kill our black belief. In our hunger we
beheld the welcome table and in our nakedness the
glory of a long white robe. We have been believers in
the new Jerusalem.
We have been believers feeding greedy grinning gods, like a
Moloch demanding our sons and our daughters, our
strength and our wills and our spirits of pain. We have
been believers, silent and stolid and stubborn and
strong.
We have been believers yielding substance for the world.
With our hands have we fed a people and out of our
strength have they wrung the necessities of a nation.
Our song has filled the twilight and our hope has
heralded the dawn.
Now we stand ready for the touch of one fiery iron, for the
cleansing breath of many molten truths, that the eyes
of the blind may see and the ears of the deaf may hear
and the tongues of the people be filled with living fire.Where are our gods that they leave us asleep? Surely the
priests and the preachers and the powers will hear.
Surely now that our hands are empty and our hearts too
full to pray they will understand. Surely the sires of
the people will send us a sign.We have been believers believing in our burdens and our
demigods too long. Now the needy no longer weep and
pray; the long-suffering arise, and our fists bleed
against the bars with a strange insistency.Real men don't cry
Real men don't cry But I can't help crying out your name when you crush my flesh, grinding down on my flesh, twirling my flesh with tongue my flesh throbbing deep inside of your flesh , our flesh becomes one Crying out your name between clenched teeth our bodies entwined in utter carnal bliss Crying out your name between gulps of air, at the release of each kiss Crying out every sinful threat, crying out impassioned profanity Abandoning all of my pride, stroke after pelvic stroke, stripping me of every ounce of vanity, Crying out loud, my blessed defeat, in your world of erotic insanity Crying out to my creator, heartfelt sobs of sexual gratitude Un-encumbered from years of solitude my sexual beast Real men don't cry… I couldn't care the least So I denounce my manhood, call me Mrs. Damali, your lesbian lover It may be Freudian, while I suckle on you, like a newborn to his mother Crying out " Damn it sweetness! ", I love the freakiness, I swear I hope it never ends There is nothing more pure than sharing nakedness, and your darkest desires with your best friend I shed this tear for you
