Just My Thoughts: cryptic heart sorrows…

Just My Thoughts: cryptic heart sorrows…: "I ask myself, cryptic heart sorrows… Why does satin hug me like he misses me? Why does this lonely walk I’m taking feel familiar? Why ha..."

cryptic heart sorrows…

I ask myself,

cryptic heart sorrows…

Why does satan hug me like he misses me?

Why does this lonely walk I’m taking feel familiar?

Why do so many talk a great game but don't know how to play the card they're dealt?

Why can’t people stop talking about shit that doesn’t matter?

Why do people act like I’m a mind reader knowing that they fear that power?

Why the fuck do you think I’m ever going to back down?

Why do you think that my God does not protect me?  

Why am I cussin'?

Why is the smell of liar bullshit disgusting?

As is the smell of a lover with too many partners?

Why do I need to slow down and not you?

Why do I need to bow down and not you?

Can you not love me for who I am?

The Dragon with the wounded wings looking for a place to rest.

Why is a true sanctuary from the lies of men hard to find?

Why do the books I write look like women to me?

Why does the affair feel the same?

Why am I not surrounded by the ones I love?

-Graffiti Bleu…

rebirth

This is my life right here.

The rebirth of my creative life.

I have looked the dragon square in his eye and smiled at him fearing not.

I put the pain inside the pages lustfully.

I wept as I sung rich love down the hallowed hall.

I refused to forget her or our dance among the starlit sky shaped round her silhouette.

Missing the cosmic kissing, for it was my anti-venom.

The one thing that fed my light in darker skies.

I salute you with this simple song of eternity.

For you and I fit together like Sun and flame.

You change form like a daughter who becomes a mother.

I trip as I watch you born again inside the pages dancing freely planting seeds where we preform...

I trip as I watch you born again inside the pages dancing freely planting seeds where we preform.

”Just-I-See Justice”

     As the ice came down and flame found its stride in


the X-mas chimney, I laid ink in cursive to the fallen


white. Next level I embrace you in the company of


an old friend. I travel lifeless through the cosmic


energy of my rival’s survival. I have looked into


despairs pit gazing at the whole in my punctured


heart. I stare at the abyss and see the bottom of a


waste basket filled with crumpled paper. Knowledge


peeks through the folds revealing life lessons. I


learned that inspiration can uninspire. I learned


better flow when I stopped apologizing. I learned


that there is no point in housing a soul without a


voice. I’ve felt the warmth of humility and the icey


fingers of be trail. Lost old friends and gained new


ones. I’ve learned how to shut the fuck up and listen,


finally. I found irony in the peers that taught me fear


in naive youth, only to make me feared by the fearful.


I learned to lust for chocolate treats and brandy,


heating my lungs in spirit and flesh. I learned the


sadness of a nigger’s definition then refused to


participate. I learned that I only feel lonely when I


entertain hate at the party of joy. I became


reacquainted with the bottom of my reflection and


saw growth inside silver whiskers. I learned evolution


was imminent. I learned that the greenest students


make the best teachers. I learned the karma of


passive aggression as well as the importance of a


secret war. Iv’e learned to be agreeably disagreeable. I


have learned the persistence of evil thoughts who


travel through the fibers of your pillow case. The


seduction of sugar when one sails solo. I’ve learned


the dance of spirits as they told tales of what really


mattered.


I learned to love again.

Just My Thoughts: Tasting Game... (Teaser)

Just My Thoughts: Tasting Game... (Teaser): "Shout to my my Main Man, Super Producer 007zman. We finished the lyrical section of the spoken word album tonite. I feel reborn with the com..."

Tasting Game... (Teaser)

Shout to my my Main Man, Super Producer 007zman. We finished the lyrical section of the spoken word album tonite. I feel reborn with the completion of this project coming closer with the mixing and mastering phase being next. I will blog only a small piece of the lyrics for the last song to make the cut.

I proudly present this teaser I call...

Tasting Game

I lick the two gate keepers of my spoken words

Remaining speechless trapped within the day dream of a day dream.

Smiling at the prize that lives south of your navel

It grins back at me side ways

Patiently waiting to reward me for patiently waiting.

Finally

The flower I chase now stares at my face.

Oooo… How I’ve waited for this day

Not nervous, or anxious but auspicious.

You rub my face to guide the way to your delicious.

My apparent submission isn't lust its trust

I’m proud to explain the process that gives you the gift of my open mouth.

Now let me school you to this tasting game.

I keep peaches, mango's and melons in the crisper.

I feed you grapes between mind sex whispers.

I only cook you the healthiest food of the soul.

Oh yes it was a set up to get wet up.

By joining you in showers, washing your back for you.

Indeed it was a set up to get wet up.

By making sure that you never inhaled the smoke.

Does it make you bananas keeping pineapples in the freezer?

Then sucking the syrup like an Italian ici?

I place it on your tongue; you say I’m nothing but a teaser.

My plan is coming together quite nicely.

From first glance to first kiss I prepared the meal which is you.

However this meal of beauty is more than skin deep.

Now let me school you to this tasting game.

 Its not coincidental I peeped the sweetness of your mental.

You can tell a lot by how a woman acts around his friends and family.

So I taste tested by placing you in social situations.

For all you were a treat to meet.

You stood tall without making people feel small.

My family adores you and my rivals want bone you…

You're just going to gave to get the music CD to find out how this ends 
;)

Graffiti Bleu~

Just My Thoughts: Pillow Fight (Return 2 Sexy)

Just My Thoughts: Pillow Fight (Return 2 Sexy): "This is some of my earlier work in story teller... I wrote this story about 4 years ago. Those who know me and have read the book (PPP AEA) ..."

Pillow Fight (Return 2 Sexy)

This is some of my earlier work in story teller... I wrote this story about 4 years ago. Those who know me and have read the book (PPP AEA) may be able to tell the difference in writing styles. Also since it soooooo cold outside I am compelled to talk about the times when it was a little warmer...

“Pillow Fight”

The block is hot. The humidity alone will make Satan tell the truth. Its 99 degrees today. My lover & I are spending the day by the water. I thought it might be cooler by the waves that she craves to be near. (I was wrong). Even it seems to boil. Her temper has been short and her audible has been curt today.” My patient’s is growing thinner than the humid air flowing threw our nostrils. “Let’s go back to the room Baby!” She says irritated. HHHHHHHHHmmmm, not her style to snap at me. I remove my shades & wipe the sweat from my brow. I look at her souls windows for an apologetic face. There is none. She turns her back to me a walks away! Fucking flipping her hair in the process. AWWww HELL NO, it’s to hot for this shit. She does the “sassy walk”. Marching to the hotel with the grace of a runway model as I follow. I study the rhythm of her ample ass. Like a dinner bell it has me salivating like Pavlov's dogs.  “We say nothing in the elevator. She just stares at the bulge in my pants with this sarcastic grin. “Is she playing me?” I think to myself. I must admit all this heat and gangster attitude is tapping into my hearts demonic side. It has me wanting to drill her into submission. So much so that I don’t realize I have been growing love below pleasures since we hit the lobby.  It takes us a few irritating minutes just to open the door with the electronic key. It opens finally! We burst threw the door like the Feds expecting to feel the chill of air-conditioning.

Wrong again. “Didn’t I tell you to crank the A.C. before we left!?!?!?!?” Amber says like talking to a 2 year old.

“Don’t be such a Bi…………………..!” Whoa! Totally out of character for me! I save the game in the bottom of the 9^Th by catching the T-C-H with my mouth like Derrick Jetter. I have never hit a woman in my life. (Short of an affectionate smack on the ass) & never have I used the “B” word outside of sexual role playing. I did not call her a B-I-T-C-H, but I wanted to. Her eyes are as wide as deep dishes on a Beamer, but I wish I knew why the fuck she was grinning?!?!?

My Lover is ever changing like the Goddess she personifies.

Emotions mimic seasonal colors in transition.

I love that feisty shit, her tantrum multiplies.

I ponder ways to exploit her condition.

She’s playfully pissing me off.

“One in the chamber!” her words mock.

I need to hit her with something soft.

Then ease the stiffness of my ……

I smack the taste out of her lovely mouth with a pillow from the California King. She is furious! She grabs the other and we go at it. We trash the room in the process. Goose feathers are everywhere. She giggles every time she lands a shot. I am frustrated that she is so good at this. Time to man up. I hit her square on the ass with the pillow so hard she looses balance and lands on the bed. I pounce on her immediately. She submits. I rip her sky bleu blouse off revealing her sweaty D-cups. I lick the salty sugar from around her nipples frame while I have her wrist pinned. I never touch the nipple itself. It drives her mad. “I want you Bleu…Now!” She says emphatically.  Her cries are in vain. She knows she will suffer the sweet pain of learning patients. She instigated this torture.  Now she will pay in spades. Finally I give her aching nipples one firm suck each. No more, no less. I flip her onto her belly. I take the remainder of the pillows & prop them under her so that her ass is at a higher altitude. Then I spread her legs as far as her mini-skirt will allow. Her sky blue panties are drenched. I tickle her tender folds with my pinkie smacking her ass while I tell her how bad she’s been today. I place that same finger in my mouth and taste the slightly salted mango. I am throbbing now and unable to tease any further. She grinds the pillows in circular movements as I remove my tank and shorts. I only stoke her with the head. She is savage with lust at this point. This is what she wanted. Now she will feel the wrath. I enter her suddenly and deeply. I plunge into her steaming hot wetness & forcefully grind her as my own sweat rains on her arched back.

Her g-spot throbs uncontrollably. Never have I felt her orgasm so quickly. The pleasant surprise of her early arrival has me stiffer now. I Bring her legs together with my own making her kitty squeeze me tighter.

Then grind harder.

      

     The headboard plays percussion on the adjacent wall.

           She whispers my name.

                       I explode.

                                The A.C. Finally kicks in.

                                              We sleep.

Graffiti Bleu

Just My Thoughts: "The Pain That Answers to God" (Letting Go)

Just My Thoughts: "The Pain That Answers to God" (Letting Go): "Shoulders heavy with comprehension’s failures Making bare feet drag through hot rough sands. High noon beams reality in despair’s dessert Th..."

"The Pain That Answers to God" (Letting Go)

Shoulders heavy with comprehension’s failures

Making bare feet drag through hot rough sands.

High noon beams reality in despair’s dessert

The truth’s blinding light masking its own existence.

The Horizon holds no promises

So I make one to my soul.

“Stop sweating Start replenishing”

I remove the weight from my shoulders and become lighter.

I lay a belt heavy with bricks next to it and feel a cool breeze.

I lay my thinking cap down and feel the earliest rain drops.

They provide pleasant stings on my brow

Each splash more pleasant than the last.

Still ash knuckles houses united fingers.

Good fortune never finds a clinched fist.

To quench my thirst I must open my hands.

To quench my thirst I must open my hands.

Vindictive as they still deal with the pain I answer to.

They mock me, my thirst and they mock the true King.

My tongue swells dry from the taste of dessert sands.

I fight frustration and aggravation but lose to humiliation.

Humility brings me to my knees and lowers my head in prayer.

God speaks and I listen.

My eyes close as the undrinkable rain runs down the back of my head and neck.

Every drop provides calm as he reminds me of the days when we were closer.

Those wicked rides on emotion’s roller coaster.

My suicidal thoughts in those days of despair.

And how I’d forgotten he even was there.

The confusion that smothered lovers, family and friends.

The pain won’t obey because it answers to him.

I submit to his greatness and divine control.

My hands finally open and I drink from his soul.

My pain is gone

My love is strong

I am reborn

I can go on

My pain is gone

My love is strong

I am reborn

I can go on.

Graffiti Bleu.

Just My Thoughts: "The Sit Down"

Just My Thoughts: "The Sit Down": "Just because you have a knife, fork, napkin and appetite doesn’t mean that you’re bringing something to the table. Funny, how a love starved..."

"The Sit Down"

Just because you have a knife, fork, napkin and appetite doesn’t mean that you’re bringing something to the table. Funny, how a love starved heart makes you see a meal in the empty hands of the sexy who’s the first to approach. Many are guilty of judging a soul with rose tinted glasses. In an attempt to learn from the lustful mistakes of the past by moving too fast,

I slow it down,

I break it down,

This is called:

"The sit down"

The table is set, blanketed in mutual attraction but lust alone is not a foundation it’s an emotion.

I liken emotion to a dandelion wrapped in the bosom of a gentle breeze making true love just a wish.

Weightless, beautiful but incapable of sustaining the weight of the imminent burden that follows romance like a long slender shadow.

Who am I?

I am a novelist, author and poet who desires more than just a short love story.

I am seeking a romance worthy of an epic tale worth dollars.

A trilogy worthy of a debate by scholars.

We can’t sit at the table bargaining love chips with the currency of skin.

Without being connected first from within.

So day by day I respect your feminine gangsta by finding out your life plan.

Even if there is none.

Perhaps we can make one.

Or perhaps we can let our love flow spontaneous like ripples of water and flickering flame.

Producing a passion not fit to be tamed.

Making both hearts pound.

Creating such sweet sound.

But first let us have...

A sit down.

You handle my truth as I handle yours.

We teach each other to find definition through transition.

We teach each other love restitution through love evolution.

Our bond overcomes opposition and has no competition.

Our bond’s constitution fuels loves revolution.

But evil never takes a day off...

We are surrounded by negative energy trying to find balance by breaking the link that bonds two would be lovers. Like the darkness of night raps itself round a tree.

And like the tree we can no longer see, like love itself we know that its there.

So we wait without fear for the imminent dawn.

The sun light appears like the Lord himself. Not when we wanted it, but when we needed it.

We then give thanks for the wisdom that built the foundation.

With the stones of friendship and the mortar of trust.

Now you and I are successfully us.

As Queen and King we walk together having earned the coveted

his and hers crowns. But it all was made possible by keeping it real

during our sit down.

Graffiti Bleu

Just My Thoughts: Death Becomes Him. (A Halloween Tale...or is it?)

Just My Thoughts: Death Becomes Him. (A Halloween Tale...or is it?): "Death Becomes Him He knows I hate him. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me as he welcomes me with his trade mark corporate grin. ..."

Just My Thoughts: The Levi Character: Sometimes we force ...

Just My Thoughts: The Levi Character:

Sometimes we force ...: "The Levi Character: Sometimes we force things. I must admit I was drawing short on inspiration for the Vonlyn character. Bo..."

The Levi Character:

    

     Sometimes we force things. I

must admit I was drawing short on

inspiration for the Vonlyn

character. Book II, "Intimate

Rivalz" is to be modled after life

and not vice versa. My spirit is

drawn to the Levi character. I

need to witness


the backbone that leadership

provides. I also need to be in its

presence. As I was working on “The

Vanity of Vonlyn Saint James” it

occurred to me that the character

of “Levi Sinkler” would be taking

over as guardian for my favorite

villin as early as 6 years old. So

to develop the Vonlyn charcter

first would limit the “Step father

& son” dynamic. Simply a father

should raise and mold his son not

the other way around. Painting a

picture of the man who was modeled

after my grandfather will be a

journey inside myself. I will be

looking in a mirror of who I will

end up being in my last days.

This, I belive to be ordained. I

have been dancing the steps of

father and son with him long after

he has past. I must honor him for

I too can dance with the spirit

and he knows this. Some of you

know this, one of you knows this.

Sorcery? I think not, for I know

whose energy it is. We merely

borrow it for selfish needs. I

need not be ashamed of him. Lord I

love you for this borrowed light

you sent to me. With it I see what

is really important. And what is

cannot be expressed on the

sales of a book. Rather the

knowledge and wisdom that is

aquired when you're chasing your

dream~ 





Graffiti Bleu > 

Just My Thoughts: Death Becomes Him. (A Halloween Tale...or is it?)

Just My Thoughts: Death Becomes Him. (A Halloween Tale...or is it?): "Death Becomes Him He knows I hate him. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me as he welcomes me with his trade mark coorperate grin...."

Death Becomes Him. (A Halloween Tale...or is it?)

Death Becomes Him

          He knows I hate him. He doesn't seem surprised to see me as he welcomes me with his trade mark corporate grin. He never stops smiling at me. Not as we argued, not as we struggled & not even when I pushed him to the floor and got my hands on him. I squeeze his neck until his eyes seem to pop from his head. He’s got plenty of fight in him but I have him pinned to his apartment floor. He manages to wiggle one of his arms out from under my knee. He then takes a swing at me that catches me in the shoulder as I tucked my chin. So I squeeze harder. I squeeze until my finger nails start to dig inside his fragile corporate skin. I squeeze until both of my hands flood with the pain of bitter satisfaction  Then I squeeze some more. So much in fact his wind pipe finally gives. The cracking reminds me of splintering sugar cane in South Carolina summers. The fight in him finally leaves his undernourished body. And even in this state he somehow looks better. Death becomes him. He wares it like a tailored suit on Sunday morning. I stare at his lifeless body as he stares back at me with lifeless eyes. I see his aura float away from the fresh kill of his bony carcass. It reminds me of how steam looks leaving the surface of just boiling water. I should get going but my numb body won’t move. We were brothers once. The gravity of what I've done hits my heart and makes my breathing stop for a time. A half dozen seconds past before I inhale sudden. The sensation of touch has returned to my once numb extremities. But now my hands are snitching. Both of my mitts quaver uncontrollably as new blood fills the veins in my finger tips. This blood also fills my hands with a pain I cannot measure. Like an intense flame next to frost bitten skin. This is crazy. “Look what you made me do!” I shout with a voice that cracks as I try not to cry. I need to get going and my body wont let me. I have got to calm down. Losing my cool means losing everything I know. I inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth and wait for the adrenaline to ware off. All I can do, as my heart rate finally slows, is gaze at the blood that’s under my finger nails. They say drinking the blood of an enemy gives you his power. I contemplate that, as well as my own sanity for even considering it. A Knock on the door breaks my concentration.

tap tap tap…

          “ You've got to be kidding me?” I say in a voice so low I barely moved my mouth to say it. The green lights of his microwave say that it’s 1:13 in the morning. “Where you expecting company?” I whisper as I take my attention off of the clock and place it on him. He’s still got that corporate smirk on his face. That fake looking grin that turns the surface of the lips to face the surface of the teeth. My attention then turns again to the now silent door. He always said that he would never give a spare key to anyone. But…

tap tap tap…

…do I really want to trust a liar? I tip-toe over his strangled neck and silently make my way to the door. No surprise awaits me as I line my left eye with the peephole glass. (I know you.) I think to myself as I secretly watch her impatiently wait. A little young for my taste but she’s absolutely gorgeous even with this distorted view. I watch her like a stalker holding my position contemplating my next move. For if she has a key I will have to kill her too. My plan was for one murder not two. I continue to spy with my other eye closed. I watch her while my heart pounds loud enough for her to almost hear. She has on a long trench coat and high heeled red shoes. Just as I wonder if she has on any clothes underneath she makes a move. She looks at her wrist watch and then pulls her cell phone from the deepness of her trench coat's pocket. (This can’t be good.) Who else would she call but his corporate ass? If she hears his phone ring she’ll know he’s here and just think he’s sleeping. (Not that he isn't  However, when all is said and done I want the police to have a vague time line, not a defined one. I must find his phone before it rings. His apartment is small and neat. So I go from section to section scanning the room like a dog looking for a squirrel. Then I see it on his night stand just as it lights up and I know it’s too late. But it only vibrates quietly, just enough to move itself a few inches sideways. (Whew) Again I step over my fallen foe and put my left eye to the whole in the door. Her lips move sexy while she leaves him a voice-mail he will never receive. She hangs up; she looks at the door disappointed and then leaves. I’m disappointed too. For me and this guy were supposed to unite and change the game. This guy was welcomed in my family by my mother as one of her other children. This guy was the most intelligent man I knew. But money, power, envy and vanity changed everything. Now it’s time to get to work.

          I think about the increase in jail time when a murder is premeditated as I pull my supplies from my pick up truck. I pull a wheel chair out from the back first and unfold it so that it’s ready to roll. Then I take a plastic Halloween bag from the cab stuffed with goodies that says “Trick or Treat” I place the bag in the wheelchair and dig through it for my mask. After my new look, I head back to my dead friend's apartment rolling the chair, bag & my masked self with double time steps. He was still waiting. He was still smiling and his eyes were still open. No matter, I have been planning this for a year. I told him not to let any position he held, or how much money he made, let him think that he could disrespect me. He did anyway, so I waited while he had the satisfaction of playing me like a sucker. The smile on his face, almost professed that he knew I was coming. No matter, what’s done is done. I have a nice resting spot for you in at the bottom of Floridian waters. But first we dress up. Its Halloween night, & I chose this day so that I could transport his bony ass easily. Now that were all dressed up, it’s time to move. After I wipe his apartment down with ammonia and Pine Sol, I lock the door behind us and then wheel his dead ass to the elevator. My truck is on the roof just 2 flights up. Of course  the elevator stops on the next floor up. Some drunken couple gets on with us. They make an interesting couple. He is even skinnier than my dead friend and he nailed his costume. He is dressed as Waldo from the “Where is Waldo?” comic strip. They are staring at us as they enter the elevator, so I put the attention on me. “Waldo… right?” I say as the man looks at me but the woman stares at my lifeless buddy. “Who are you guys supposed to be?” she says cutting across her boyfriend’s answer of “Yes!” She makes the tandem an odd couple for she has to be 400 pounds easy. She is dressed as a witch with a cleavage friendly black velvet dress. “I am the Grim Reaper and this is death.” I say to the suspicious looking odd couple. The door opens on the roof but they keep staring at my dead companion’s masked face. “What’s his problem?” says the busty woman with glassy eyes staring. “He’s drunk and he’s stuck in character!” I say as we all exit the elevator. They exit to the roof as I do, and as I look at my truck my heart stops. For his beautiful booty call is next to my truck looking through the tinted widows! (Jesus Christ!) With her back turned to the doorway I was rolling him through, I try to back pedal to the elevator quickly. Thankfully the elevator was still there but she saw us. “HEY!” she screams from about 20 yards away as I hit the button in a panic. I've never seen a fucking door open or close so slowly. As the elevator goes down I can hear the fast paced clicking of those high heeled red shoes. “Dammit!!!” I say as the door open slowly again. My acquaintance and I are now in a wheel chair race. I run full speed while his masked light bulb head flops wildly back and forth. We are at his apartment’s front door and back to square one. I unlock the door and push us both in feverishly. Now we wait. Again I try to control my breathing so she won’t hear me if she comes to the door. I wait again with one eye on the peephole. Again, she appears on the opposite side of it. She doesn't knock this time; she just stares at the peephole as I stare back. Almost like she knows, or does she? (If she had a key she would have used it by now.) My common sense calls. So I try to relax my mind into a plan B. Quietly I wheel him next to his TV facing him to the living room couch. Then I take my mask off and sit down on the very couch he’s facing. And there he sits, still peering at me with those open eyes through the holes of his mask. Kind of creepy, but with the mask on I can’t see his mouth at least. Interestingly enough, the mask I brought for him has a horrified face with that same corporate smile. Wow. I lay back and try to relax. Somehow I fall asleep with the last image in my head being that of my fallen comrade.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

          I awake to a pounding at the door. “Police… Open Up!!!” (Sonofabitch) This can’t be happening. The disorientation of just waking up makes me hope that I’m just paranoid.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

This is your last warning! I rush for my bag as I try to make sense of this. I pull out my true pal who never betrayed me like the one that sits across from me staring. It’s a 44 Caliber snub nose Bulldog, and we have been cool for a long time. “Prison is not an option. I’m not built or fit to be caged.” I say looking at him as I point the gun to the center of my brain. I say the Lord’s Prayer silent as the Cops scurry outside. Then I speak out loud so that the cops and my very dead pal can both hear me. “All I ever wanted was for us to ball together” “All I ever wanted was your respect” “All I ever wanted was the brother my real life brother failed to be.” He never answers me, he just sits, stares and smiles as the cops burst through the door. I pull the trigger and see a brilliant flash of light before nothingness.

“Baby… Baby?!.” (My lady says waking me up from my terrible dream.) “I hope you had a good nap because we have a bunch of cars pulling up to the house. “Give me a minute" I say as I hit the closet and put on my Grim Reaper outfit. The doorbell rings as we both make our way down the stairs. “I hope you didn't invite “him” she says and continues. “You know he’s not welcome here anymore.” I say nothing still a little shaken up off my mind’s vivid horror movie. Until I opened the door that is. I didn't invite him, I didn't tell him or his circle about this party and I certainly didn't know what he was wearing. But there he was in my doorway, holding a 44 Caliber snub nose Bulldog, wearing that same horrified mask that possessed that same corporate smile. I am speechless as he points the gun at me before screaming…

HAPPY HALLOWEEN…

Fin~