#Poetry & #Politics with @916Jenny on this episode of Just My Thoughts #podcast

I walk in spirit with God's wind at my back... I think out-loud and I share those thoughts with critical thinkers. Today's thinker is poet, slamMaster Jenny Davidson. We talk politics and poetry on this episode Just My Thoughts.

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/kulturezinenetwork/2016/05/26/just-my-thoughts-with-graffiti-bleu

An open letter to the N.A.W.A.L.T.

An open letter to the N.A.W.A.L.T.

Not All Women Are Like That/

This is a an absolute fact/

Few acknowledge you/

Or the selfless things you do/

Even less acknowledge your very existence/

I want to do so and more/ so I will testify on your behalf/

I am grateful every time you make me better by challenging my wisdom/

I appreciate the calm way in which you handle me/ when I challenge yours/

I love the respect you have for my core/ the energy you engage it with/ and the fearless way you include me in your thoughts/

There are women who are suspicious of everything because they simply can not be trusted themselves/

You are not her.

There a women out there that will only date what they can control due to insecurities/

You are not her.

There are women who view men like a lumber jack views a pick up truck/

You are certainly not her either.

I salute all who see a man for who he is to the core and judges him on his own merits. One’s who believe a man’s value is inside his honor and integrity more so that in his assets and resources.

I salute all that believe in transparency and leave secrets to recipes and deodorant sticks/

Thank you for the selfless way you allow me to penetrate your body/ Encouraging me to be the gentlest savage I can possibly be.

I applaud your maturity and serenade your growth in spirit.

I love you the way dragons love fire/ I will put you in verse as long as blood pumps through the veins of my fingers.

GB

#Podcast Interview of Author/Poet/Emcee Graffiti Bleu by Phoenix Divine.

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/kulturezinenetwork/2016/02/25/just-my-thoughts-with-graffiti-bleu

"She Fascinates Me" #poetry #remix

She fascinates me/She fascinates me with her relentless exploration/She is hungry for the flavors of passion/

If joy had a taste it would taste like her/
And after me being starved of love for quite some time/

I would experience a manifesto that was quite sublime/

She tastes life with me just before dripping wisdom on my core/

I love her and I know it from balls to bone marrow/

In flesh and in spirit we dance forever/
Like the edges of 2 galaxies spinning besides each other/ 

Harmonious we are beyond what man can destroy with his bitterness/
And even within a subtle wickedness/

Sweet she remains/ always as I endure our endless cycle of passion and fascination/

Our session of intimacy was similar to dueling vocals on an Old school jam sung in A cappella/

However Do You Want It/

However do you need it/

Harmonious and competitive/ 
Spontaneous and repetitive/ 
Innovative and contemplative passion in all of its creative glory/

You may not understand how sweet her love was to a starving heart/

Her sweat was sweeter than the syrup of peaches/

We were both drinking like the sands of Egypt surrounded us without water/

Music is made welcoming the rain/ her aggressive submission is laced with trust/ Just like the butterfly trusts a breeze that is blowing towards randomness/

I trust her with liquid legacy/ she drinks from me savoring the wine made from the crushed grapes of Ethiopia/
Utopia/ braided with thickness/ weaved into thickness for all time/

This time documented by the Sun/ while the eternal passions are blamed on the Moon/ for arriving too late and leaving too soon/

#BlogTalkRadio "21 Questions to Ask Your Future Spouse"

I walk in spirit with God's wind at my back... I think out-loud and I share those thoughts with critical thinkers. Today's thinkers are my good friends Brian Morales & Christy. A couple currently experiencing "New Love"

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/kulturezinenetwork/2015/12/24/just-my-thoughts-with-graffiti-bleu-3

#BlogTalkRadio We discuss "Love & Hate" on this episode of #JMT

I walk in spirit with God's wind at my back... I think out-loud and I share those thoughts with critical thinkers. Today's thinkers are Ebony London & The Faithful Few. Ebony London is a talented artist, painter and published author. The Faithful Few is a collective of 7 poets who have contributed audio of their very popular "Fear & love" poetry cypher to the podcast.

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/kulturezinenetwork/2015/11/04/just-my-thoughts-with-graffiti-bleu

So How Can My Fire Turn You Cold?.. #QuickVerse

Funny how passion can scare some people/

Or better yet maybe it’s not funny at all/

Fear is about as funny as an insecurity looking to control what cannot be tamed/

The eternal flame/

That will give you hell if you try to contain it/

Let alone explain it/

Do so in poetic verse if you've got the balls to do so/

You may find your friends to be a Faithful Few/

If you do what you love and love what you do/

Somebody somewhere just said true/ true/

Now watch me address the fearful and confess my joy/

Love always builds/ fear always destroys/

So how can my fire turn you cold? /

Unless your intentions were to control? /

Behold/ God flow/ Mastery as it unfolds/

Truth be told/

I love you regardless ~

GB

I Support Your Freedom... #QiuckVerse

I support your freedom/

You are free to express yourself/ 

Not that you need my permission/ 

You are free to undress yourself/ 

Not simply just for a sexual position/

You have the freedom to shed the skin you're in/

Shape shift like the goddesses that rule over men/

Change form like a child's mind at play in the land of pretend/

Me supporting your freedom is how I plan for us to win/

Treating you like I would want to be treated allowing your light to shine from within/

GB

Queen of What?

The Queen of hearts broken/

Possibly/

The Queen of humility not spoken/

Humbly/

The Queen of everything hot like steam/

The queen of broken dreams/

The Queen of a fear that makes lovers turn mean/

Incredibly/

Does a Queen cause her King anger? / 

Maybe/

Does a Queen turn a King who was her best friend into a stranger? /

Despicably/

Does a Queen refuse compromise with the backbone of her throne?

Does a Queen insist that she rule the kingdom on her own?

I am sure this Queen exists but tell me where does this Queen rule? /

Is the land she concurred glorious and is her King a fool? /

Queen of what?

Please tell me so that I can see if the people she rules have smiles on their faces/

Are her subjects loyal to her/ No matter what the case is? /

A beautiful Queen she is indeed/ inside and out/

And I don’t have a single doubt/

That a Queen is exactly what she is from the tip of her toes to the diamonds in her crown/

However when I decided to take the route/

Of seeing what being her King was really about/

I was asked to get on my knees and at first I was more than willing to bow down/

But she asked me to stay down/

And that I was only allowed to stand when she said it was okay for me to do so/

I told her I couldn’t rule in a position where I wasn’t on the ready/

On my feet/ side by side with her/ and that kneeling for long periods was for the petty/

Not to mention that I had knelled to the previous Queen already/

And before you get beheaded they put you on your knees while they hold their sword steady/

So kneeling isn’t a good look for me/

So please tell me…

You are the Queen of what?

What land do you rule and do you ask me to kneel in jest?

I’m confused and not quite sure why you would make such a request/

My love for you is a right knee to the Earth/

Connecting me with the divine mother/ 

Forcing my ego to take a back seat to all things beautiful in your soul/

My respect for you is a left knee to the Earth/

I listen to your feminine perspective and hold a high regard for the wisdom you unfold/

Now that’s 2 knees/ anymore/ and I will be on all fours/

Like a good dog whining when he wants some affection/

Begging for spiritual food and attention/ 

Kept in the back yard for the house’s protection/

Unable to stop the mailman from sliding letters through the slot/ Or the tax man from getting his collection/

Queen of what?

Indeed you are a Queen/ just not the Queen of me/

Perhaps in another life/ one where there’s no insecurities/

A land where butterflies fly free/ as the summer breeze as do the flowers sway/ that they/ choose to land on/

A land where the Earth is free to spin/ yet steady enough for a King to stand on ~

GB

The Horse & the Carrot... An abstract film based on the signiture poem by Graffiti Bleu

My Humble Apologies to Those Who Pretend...

     I was once very critical of those who pretended to be something they were not. I once held myself in high esteem in regards to being exactly who I said I was. Certain individuals of my past (in the confines of romance) have been the type of females who cared a lot about what people thought about them; as well as what people had to say. 

Now then…

None of us are 100% immune from that sort of “vanity” and I am not certainly not judging. However, certain ladies in my past have been what I would consider obsessive over the lengths that they would go through to present a certain appearance… Especially ones who were living the exact opposite lives of the ones they were presenting to the public, friends and family. My new found wisdom tells me one thing. I owe any romantic partner in my past that has done this the humblest of apologies. I apologize for being critical toward them on this topic. For I now realize that I was not as authentic as I thought I was. The mind is a powerful thing. With it we can create our own reality. Creating that reality will attract certain energies to it. Especially the energy we are emitting from ourselves.

I presented myself in the past as someone who knew exactly what he was worth... but in light of my current pain, I know now that I was living a lie. Just because your mouth says that you have high-value doesn't mean you truly believe that to the core. Let me digress... when some people view themselves as broken damaged or “fucked-up” if they see you as strong and not damaged or “fucked-up” they often try to break you. Breaking you down to their perceived level of themselves which makes them feel better. I allowed myself to be broken by people who love in this fashion. I told myself that I wasn't broken because of it but in reality I was ignoring the fact that I was. I was telling people that I was worthy of a love that was patient, of a love that was understanding, of a love that was selfless in nature, of a love that was not ashamed to display love or be loved. I told myself that I was worthy of a love without fear, of a love you can build on, of a love strong enough to build a legacy on. A love that couldn’t stop a storm, yet refused to let your knees buckle under the pressure of the rain. I told myself I was worthy of a love filled with tolerance and cultural understanding, empathetic wonder and curiosity. My mouth said that I was worthy but the sponsoring thought in my head was that I was not. And of course… the power of the mind being so strong, it gave me what I felt I was worthy of not what I said I was worthy of. My humble apologies to those who pretend for I am no better than you. I must bid you farewell now, for I am no longer like you. I forgive you because I too have fallen short of the glory. But I know exactly what I'm worth now and I believe it wholeheartedly.

GB

Underground or Underground #HustlerzCode

     

     "My husband, my mentor, my lover, my friend. The only thing better than exploring your body was experiencing your soul. Listening to you share your wisdom while you accepted my truth without passing judgement or implementing boundaries. Making me live the life of the Black Butterfly you insisted I be. I am yours because I choose to be. No cages, shackles or burdens were ever placed on my wings. Making every day spent with you a day where my spirit would fly. The shower was filled with my singing, while my back bones were filled with your rhythms. You constantly told me how you loved me and I constantly told you how I loved you more. Your kiss is what life feels like when it’s lived to the fullest. I sigh in your presence and you gaze at me with the wonder of a child with an old soul. You love me well beyond utterances that profess a mechanical response to “I love you” Talking to you is as easy as breathing during the best sleep of your life. Tasting the way you think through conversation. Drinking from the well of your inner peace added fuel to my fire for you. Connected by every possible thread of our spiritual existence; I felt the cosmos move out of the way for what you and I made real. My King… where are you now? They tell me you’re a terrorist although you’ve never been arrested or charged as such. My King… where are you now? They tell me you are somewhere at the bottom of the sea, but they’ve never found a trace of you. My King… They tell me to move on from you but I search for you relentlessly. I examine the blue lines of the paper and follow the traces of your pen. I will not stop until I find you and our love is one again…"

- Amber Love Smith

Opening Prelude for the "Hustler'z Code"

The Warrior Drums of Her...

She came to me like warrior drums in the distance/

Love was on the march towards me/

Yet the rhythms were different/

Steady and true restoring the faith that love is persistent and constant/

Mute on any music that says otherwise/

Her love came to me seemingly random like the water that flows down the rocks of a waterfall/

Random however is not what it was/

Her love is by grand design/
It has purpose/

Fearless just like the water it floats on/

Fearless just like the drums that it pounds from/

Purposefully opening my heart to the glory of him~

Inventory #REMIX

My Mother once told me that her father was the type of man who hated not being the smartest man in the room/

And although I am not as obsessive as grandpa/

I will beat myself up for not being better between the ears/

Unfortunately, beating yourself up is not a good strategy for winning anything/

Even the smartest of the smart, know they don't know everything/ 

The smartest also know that your mental approach is key when opening locked doors when success is on its opposite side/

If you beat yourself up/ think you won’t win/ not good enough to win/ or better yet/ feel lucky to even be in the position to play/

You will more than likely lose every time/

Just happy to be in the play – offs/ gets you swept in the 1^st round/

Self-discipline is hard enough without the self-inflicted beat down/

What seems to work better than frustration is adaptation/

What seems to be a big part of the solution is evolution/

What seems to stimulate positive production is negative destruction/

So pardon me as I take inventory of my old house so that I may move a new/

My 1^st stop/ is at the cigar box/ in my home office that gives birth to thought/

I open the box and so many creations are wrapped in lyricism and metaphor like cigar paper/

I see old perceptions of what love should be/ blow away like burning ash to make way for the fire love is/

Moving on to the spice rack/ Just below the cupboard of my passions/

I see inspiration just between the cayenne and the pepper/

Many dashes go over my brushed off shoulders and into a steaming pot of water/

Drops of passion overflow as oxygen gets released from the blood in my pumping heart/

The beauty is in its simplicity/

To some its transparency is perceived as weakness/

Must be why they point arrows at the dragon’s chest/

The arrows never kill him/ but they do make him mad on rare occasion/ 

Somehow I identify with his annoyance completely/

My wings spread from my back/ looking like Samuel Jack/ in the role of the Archangel Gabriel/

Moving forward through this motherfucking house I step/

The team greats me and shows me the city where my home resides/

Sacramento/

I can almost hear the trumpets blow/

All the while poets hitting me with bars and game/

A peace sign and a raised glass goes to all language lovers/

Let’s step out of the kitchen and continue with the inventory/

My living room is filled/

Looks like I've got company/

Cats that are one man shows/ Improvisation aficionados/ spirits that spin free as the wind/

Minds that spin like open faced watches/

Onto the bedroom/ a tree is in the corner/

It protects me from myself at night/

Sap drips from the bark like the tears from lonely prayer/

Slowly down the wood it goes/

A bed is here telling my lips to keep a secret so I follow suit like the Queen and King of Hearts/

Onto the patio I see the moon I share with the universe/ it reminds me of my selfish ways/

I want her all to myself/

I want the universe to know that she belongs to me/

I don’t apologize for this verse for they see your light inside my eyes/

Let’s move forward to the dining room/

A meal is on the table/

A hot dish with spiritual vitamins/

I take small bites hoping the flavor will last longer/

Beyond the plane of the physical/

A taste my soul will remember/

A Napkin at the corners of my mouth before I start walking to the closet door/

Pause/

My vengeance lives in here/

He’s 12 years old/ he’s shy and he’s the ugliest child you've ever seen/

Because I feed him disappointment/

Love finds a way to make him beautiful/

No apology for the verse but an apology to a darker me/

For not adding more sunlit readings, writing and prayer/

I am determined to change his diet to blessings and appreciation/

Inventory now tallied at the conclusion/

I move forward appreciative knowing that the blessings are endless/

GB

The Aphrodisiac of Power/ Volume 1 #REMIX

The Aphrodisiac of Power/ Volume 1

Power… When a woman tastes its sweetness, she soon becomes addicted to the many flavors and selfless favors of a sexual slave/

His balls securely in her purse, he is a man in flesh only/

Marionette is his true self and she is his Puppeteer/

Her pedicured fingernails are laced with strings connected to his spine, his limbs and the worst of him/

When she’s not showing off his balls to her girlfriends, she plays with his emotions through his ego using her body/

His submission and her dominance combine for 1 style of her art of seduction/

If this is too cryptic, hectic and poetic, allow me to say this plainly/

He loves her and she doesn't love him/

I would say she doesn’t give a fuck but she only has a single fuck to give/

In dominance she fucks his face till he can barely breathe/

His tongue ferocious and eager to please master, he expresses his love through tracing the eternity sign on her flower/

His erection is ignored completely while her selfish nectar flows down his lips, chin, neck and collar bones/

Do not show remorse for this man, for he enjoys her pleasure more than his own/

With thick thighs pressing tight around his jugular veins/ he must be feeling euphoric with a lack of oxygen to his brain/

His eyes rolling into the back of his head just as hers do/

No penetration in this situation/ Him releasing spasm after spasm into sheets at the level of her calf muscle/

Her releasing and squirting the back of his tonsils with her syrup and nectar/ his whiskers now soft from her shampoo and conditioner/

Her heels pressing the back of his neck until every drop of her essence is in his stomach/

Finally releasing his face/ now he’s breathing as heavy as an asthmatic who just climbed a flight of stairs/

His jaw dripping like a helpless puppy standing at the front door, happy that his master let him in from the rain/

Content in his defeat in his attempt to make her love him as he does her/

Believing foolishly he is one step closer to her heart when he could not be further away.

GB