Poetry

Four Love Poems

Corinne Hermes – Si la vie est Cadeau (Life is a Gift)

Love

My hand is longing for your hand

My heart is melting into your heart

Craving…

 

My gaze is searching at your gaze

My body floods to your body

Longing…

 

And my lips to your lips

Whispering love

Dripping…

 

Dikla – There is not Such Love Anymore

 

Your Warm Hand

Your warm hand

cups my face,

your gaze so soft…

loving?

 

Don’t let your logic

to take over on your love

because you I love so much

and what do we care about others…

What about the others?

David Garrett – J.S. Bach’s Air

Air

Moving air from one hand to the other,

between my hands – nullity…

I pity us.

 

My body shivers, trembles.

What would you say, if

I would caress love

across your smooth shoulder,

Where your white, swanlike neck

meets the collarbone?

 

My hand slides in the air,

Sketches your body contour,

Yearning…

Zehava Ben – Ahava Ka’zo (A Love Like This)

What I Have for You

“Look what I have for you,”

he said.

He said and laughed.

I was not interested.

 

“Look what I have for you,”

she said.

She said, smiling.

I was very interested.

 

Hallucinating words

bare hands

im suppoda touch myself right now i dont really wan tew
otha dan ta help me sleep
& i sleep all day

cuz sumbawdy luvs me
in my dreamz
sumebawdy ax me ta dance & not just shake my ass

17 billion niggas floatin on green clouds are chantin
my name
demandin dat i am freed

dat my wrist can electric slide down da isle smotherin

“im just lookin ta fuck”

ta a pulp
da bastardized tale

“where you wan me ta nut?”

iz da question dat ion eva answa i opened my mouf
i swallow
i breave

i sang

“Oh lawd I wan tew move”

i ax fo fogiveness
afta
i alwayz feel ashamed
ta letta nigga i barely know but remind me ov my favah slide in me
den leave

one gud woman

wifa nappy afro
caught on niggaz opinionz
avoidz intellectually knowin haself
& proudly livez wit complicated emotionz


This poem is an excerpt from Meyer’s newest poetry book/offering African Booty Scratcha…lovin da ashy-blaq fat chall wif yella teef, peasy head & a broken smilwhich can be purchased on Amazon here.

 

More about the book: Mayers second poetry offering is another mile stone in literary expression, another fossilized exploration in the identity of Blackness. This time around he deals directly with the conditions and experiences of dark skinned babies, children, teens and adults. He rhythmically lays out the beauty and love dark skinned people are normally denied and the provisions they are always offered too. He uses the Black vernacular to write through feelings and welcomes the reader to challenge their ideas in language and the styling of beauty. As always, it is clear that Mayers’ masterpiece is not written from a distance: indeed, it is up close and oh so personal.

motha how could you eva? a poem fo Hydeia

Written for World AIDS Day 2019


condoms wrappers sealed

sperm dripz hips

grab mouf spread

legz open screamz

once held

cryd

once

but now  i

have

h

 Began to make the an “h” sound.

 

will my baby?

 

screamz

i have it

burns so bad

uterus gag

i have it

& aint no

faggit stuck hiz

dick in me

i have it

&

aint nobody raped

me

 

motha puffed

& stuck

skin wit random

penz

& gave me

& took

& she neva said

im sorry

it was an accident

if only i had known

i wouldntve

nuffin-she-said-nuffin

i just want ta be normal

i just want ta live

itz lyke leachez

are jawing at da baq

of my eye ballz

i caint see anythang but red

im scared dat one day im gonna look up

from a wheel chair

im gonna sneeze & my heart will stop fovea

im gonna cry & cough & laugh & blood will spritz out &

i aint prepared fo errybody to stare

at me

at it

 

im scared ta kiss anyone

i stay in wen itz below 70 degreez

i canit gitta cold

im sore

from peeling awf

& slicin wartz

it

makez me tenda

motha

how could you eva?

i am ashamed

of it

it iz ashamed

of me

da way itattacks me

& i aint do shit but be born

its ashamed

its a shame

i have

H.I.V

& didnt have a choice fo

it


Lester Mayer’s new poetry book “African Booty Scratcha (Lovin Da Ashy-Blaq Fat Hall Wit Yella Teef, Peasy Head & A Broken Smile) is available for purchase on Amazon and Kindle now. 

I love you I do

I have believed in love
On the wings of heartbreak
                                    In my mind
The clock moves
Children laugh
Water drips
Bees stings
Birds fly
Wind blows
Bread provides comfort
Alcohol gives permission
Tongues slips
Mouths kisses
Noses smell
Red
Roses
Red
Bricks
freshly washed
By august rain
occasionally
the moon is
Purple
Making the
World circulation
More interesting and
Questionable
In my mind
All of this
Is possible
                                    Because
You seriously love me

                                    but in reality
im sittin here thinking
pen to paper
water hot
tea steeped
honey sweet
all true
all true
but
your love for me.

Smiling Warmly

 Like a warm peanut butter and banana sandwich
Like a rose candle lit by a lilac
And a sex on the beach poured in a martini glass
like a dog named “Skipper” or “Dallas” being lulled to sleep
by the sounds of the wind brushing snow to east
Your strange love is what I need most and don’t expect it to happen until it happens. 

I am grateful for you.

 

 

Hug

If I fall in love
If he be white
Let him understand
The rarity of a black
Diamond and pearl
Disguised as me 

 If I fall in love
If he be from the middle east
Let him see the sun rise
By the corner of my smile
And know the darkness of night
In my right eye is even more beautiful 

 If I fall in love
If he be Asian
Let him find
The time to be proud is
When he catches me looking at him
When he wasn’t even paying attention 

If I fall in love
If he be Black
Let him know
I am a reflection of things he deserves and
All that he wished for when no one would listen

If I fall in love
If…whoever he be
Let him know
My magic to write poetry
Is my prayer to stop the wars
While protecting the children. 

If I fall in love
Let it be with me 

Kitchen Dreams

Rewind to 24 hours ago,

Unwind like you did, last night,

Drunk off wine and a feverish delirium. 

No sex, just sleep, you say. 

So we do. 

When you leave, my sheets reek

with your sleepy affection.

 

That next night, I am left

in an eyes-wide-open dream state,

My face sunken into my pillow,

memorializing a brief week’s fleeting affair.

*

I dreamt of bare toes on a kitchen floor,

With fresh-cut flowers on the table. 

The air smells like apple pie and cologne.

Their hair smells like the feeling of coming home.

Kiss

i know you really love me
because i feel your lips
on my neck at 5 am
kissing me straight out of your dreams 

i know you love me because
you don’t laugh when i laugh
instead you cry because you know
that’s what i cannot bring myself to do 

i know you love me because
you hold my promises to my neck
when i’ve proposed what i truly want and
began threatening myself potential

i know you love me because
you hold me
to it

You hold me to it

retrace: a poem in 5 parts

 

i.

last night, in 2012, it was raining and you were outside, 

this morning, 11am 12pm 1pm morning, you sit at the window eyes diverted and try to remember 

when the weather would weather your skin and pierce to whatever 

sits beneath, when the rain would hit the muscle only anymore reachable 

by your testosterone needles, every friday, today friday, yesterday morning friday but 

last night always something else.