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November 18, 2006

Where the Angels Fear to Tread (Heart of Darkness)

This is so much more than just me. It's so much more than just you. Greater than emotions. I only want to exhale, but you leave me so breathless; I can't inhale in the first place.
I felt your fear in the passion of your desire, the heat of our embrace, the depth of our kiss. My pain and your fear became as one, and the Angels hearkened.
Here on this Earth we live in a world of deception, as we've fallen greatly from grace. Image is everything, taste is nothing, desires are instantly gratified, and we spontaneously combust.

Must've got me too hot, and burned off my wings? I think not.

The culmination of my years on this planet, combined with your presence, manifested the wings with which I'm now permanently scarred. Sign your name across my heart, miracles need wings to fly...for those who chose to see my true Angelic ways and the unseen wings across my back, turn away, and deny.

Of all my paragraphs and parables, and all the parallels between us and among us; the words about you drift down from the heavens. I'm merely a conduit between the skies, the most high, my mind, my hands, the keyboard, the pen, the paper, the mic, the speaker.
All I have is this English to convey what God wanted me to say, but didn't give us the keys to unlock the mysteries. The Sanskrit, Hieroglyphics, Arabi, and the languages of the lost tribes float in and out of my consciousness; yet I struggle to retrieve them here and now.
But we're alone now, and I'm writing these words for you. You taught me precious secrets, a true love, withholding nothing. My time is limited...hard knocks too. When we've both loved so hard for the wrong reasons, and been so torn, shredded, dismembered, and nearly destroyed by love; how hard is it to fall hard, and truly take a leap of faith?
I've been known to do the impossible. And tell it like it is. I only ask one thing of you, and one thing only. Don't open the doors to heaven, if you won't let me in. Please don't touch me...if you don't love me...don't do it, sweetheart.
All those precious moments, when we found love on a two way street, the love we had stays on my mind; and I'm constantly elevated by the memories of your lips against mine. I'm refined by the heat of your touch, Black steel in the hour of chaos, the eloquence of my softness in your hands.
I implore you not to let me be lonely, let's not lose this on a lonely highway. I'm just that killer ride or die chick in the body of a girl from L.A., they used to call me Hawah but they blamed me for a snake being a snake, a man being a man, and the apple that fell far from the tree.

I cook, I clean, I rock, I write, I roll, I sew, I reap, and I sow.
Let a woman be a woman, and a man be a man. I don't care how you get here...just get here if you can. The greatest moments in this life are those which occur by divine right, the lesser ones are those we plot and plan.

Don't let my sunshine fade away. It's just like heaven, being here with you. I'll fly away, one of these days, and I hate to fly alone even in friendly skies.

But now, I have to give this up, this is no way for us to communicate. You can't really read this, or hear me when I speak.

There's only one way between us, the smoothest operation, for you to hold me in your arms, and stare into my eyes.

Mind detect mind. Magnetic connection, one Love, Allah's refection.

November 17, 2006


I am the waves of the sea but You are its depths.

It is You who accounts for my fecundity.

You hold me up to the light so that I sparkle.

When You are stern it is I who storms and destroys many things.

When You come to me with joy it is I who bestows, yielding up treasures to the shores of the human world.

You are the Source and the destination, I the Love which shows the way.

It is You who makes me Mother, all these babes to tend.

You are the dark well I drink from, so that Love has no end.

My breasts are never empty for I sip from Your cup.

I am always beautiful for it is You who makes me so.

You are known by many names, but one is for my lips alone.

You are inside as I ride astride You.

From the first day to this, You are the throne.

Surrender is not for me to choose, for there is nothing else.

I yield glad from my womb again and again.

There is no beginning.

There is no end.

November 16, 2006






November 12, 2006

Another Night in Dogtown...>

It’s morning, and I slept the night away. Alone for the umpteenth time. I wouldn’t note it or commentate about it, were it not for the few recent nights I spent, not alone, awake and restless in your bed. Your sleeping habits aren’t unattractive to me, just very abrubt. I learned more about you observing you sleep than I did during our conversations or watching you while you’re awake.

You snatched the covers away, as well as your embrace. The first time I traipsed across the freezing concrete floor to the couch to get another blanket for myself – which you also tried to snatch away. Granted you were sick and had a fever. I hated to wake you up because you looked like a perfect angel…so I didn’t. When you woke up I can imagine exactly what you did – noticed I wasn’t there, thought little of it, as you went to the formerly-empty fridge to heat up the Creole Pasta I made. And just like you said you would, I’m fairly certain you heated it up (if you even took the trouble to do that) then took the entire pot and a fork to your bed and grubbed.

You’re killer.

The second time, you were most likely exhausted. I couldn’t sleep for shit. Too bad I’m not one of those girls who goes on dates and fucks. Maybe I could’ve been worn out by you and caught a few winks. Maybe not. Fact is, that’s all supposition. I know that in one of my trips downstairs to the restroom, I gouged the inside of my knee on your bedframe corner and I had to stifle a scream. Had the worst bruise ever, of my entire life. So bad it’s still lingering in shades of red and yellow, faded from the darkest purple-black I’ve ever seen on my own skin.

When you woke up you sent me a message that you were missing me. Then another asking if I left candy on the counter. I knew, and I did. There were also leftovers in the fridge for you, once again. Call it brunch.

The other night I was shocked to get a text from you with a firm commitment. A date, if you will. 10 o’clock. It pulled at my heartstrings something terrible, gave me that tight feeling in my chest, the itchy palms. 10, 11, 12, 1. Better late than never. 2, I tried to rest. Couldn’t sleep. And you weren’t even there to snatch the covers. 3, got back up and made spaghetti from scratch. Kept messaging you so you’ll know that I’m not the one for you to say one thing then do another. Dude, don’t ever scorn me. 4:26 am…I told you that I can’t see you anymore. I’m not young, I can’t play games or wait around. I’m not a piece of bitch, or one of these snowbunny heiress broads you see taking drugs at the parties you frequent.

The next morning (yours), afternoon (mine) you responded. It’s cool. I had a great night for business.

Of course you did, and you always will. Since that message I’ve seen you more times than I ever saw you when I was hoping we’d end up together. I’ve fed you twice, both times in the car. And even though I explicitly asked you never to touch me again, you’ve insisted on hugs/embraces when you see me and when you leave me.

And although you’re the greatest man alive, in my eyes, and more attractive every time I see you…while your ancestry still stands, your accomplishments are awe-inspiring, your physical frame leaves me breathless, and I can’t stand to reminisce on the hours and hours and hours we spent kissing and in love…I feel nothing.

Don’t take it personal. Somebody already broke my heart. And if you don’t like the size…if you don’t like the fit…you can split…you can quit…you can exit. Anytime.