A Sunday Kind of Love

I hate writing about love.

I hate writing about my desire for love, to be loved, to involve myself in a relationship with someone who will not only reciprocate, but become the catalyst for my love. I hate it because its one of the few things in life that one doesn't have complete control over. No matter how hard I study, or how well I budget & keep my credit straight, or how much I work out, or how diligently I do my kegal exercises all day every day, this doesn't mean I'm going to create my own ideal love. I can't purchase it, or draw it, or build it. I can only prepare myself for the possibility of the thing. I think this is where my personal dilemma rears its ugly head. I've never been a person to get my hopes up. And b/c of this, I tend to keep myself from situations that are going to burn me. I have a friend who calls me a pessimist, I call it logical. Its my defense. And the worst part is that the 5 times in my entire life I let those guards down my heart was shattered beyond my wildest dreams. I can give you dates & name, literally. I'll refrain, but just know that three time were involving parental units, once was with a man, & the other was with a best friend of 7yrs. Shattered. Whole world. Washed away...and so now, at this point in my life, I limit where I lay my feelings & who I expose my heart to. But I feel like its starting to ooze over...my desire to burn my black book & commit to someone is starting to envelop me.
I find myself praying that my future Husband manifests himself with the quickness. I need the inspiration to breathe...to BE. I'm waiting on him...The man that I can create love with over & over building upon our spiritual mental emotional and physical foundation. The man that I can write my music upon. The one I can build those dreams with & find myself in...

I want...a Sunday kind of love. No. Let me explain. I don't mean an "easy like Sunday morning" kind of a love. But a Sunday.. kind.. of.. love. Growing up, Sundays were the most hated, but most loved day of the week by me. I had to get up uber early, go to Sunday school, sing in the praise team, sing on the choir, go out or head home for a scrumptious eye drooping mouth watering meal, take a 40min teaser nap, go BACK to church, sing in the praise team, sing in the choir, sit thru another sermon then the prayer line then the fellowship after the service then the drive home, then go over my homework, take a shower, iron my clothes, grab my fave book, curl up in bed, & read until I passed out. I hated...& LOVED every minute of my grueling day. And that's the kind of love I want. The early mornings, late nights, stressful days, smiles over good meals, laughs over memorable moments, devotion laden, prayer filled, God following, hectic running around, curled up in bed perfectly content with my situation, ridiculosuly tired, but undeniably happy kind of love. I want that end of the weekend, beginning of the week kind of love...filled with enough lows to make me anticipate & thoroughly appreciate the highs...*shrugs*...and this is where my logic kicks in and tells me that this is entirely too much to ask.

So there you have it. I think I'm at Friday waiting & waiting...staring at the horizon hoping and praying that Sunday hurries up & gets here...

Yeah. I hate writing about love. But I sure need it to get here soon... *kanyeshrug*


j.claude(C)2010 Phoenix

Really, what happens when the rainbow is not enough!?

Every morning, I wake up & look around my room. I feel the stiffness in my neck & back & the pounding in my head that preoccupied my space when I laid down. I do not feel rested, and my stress is still sitting on top of my chest, holding me down & daring me to breathe deep with threat of crushing my heart forever. My past mistakes echo like heavy lead footsteps down barren halls snaking through cold decrepit homes. The walls always seem a little bit closer, the ceiling a little lower & the only safe place is in my bed. Between my sheets I have found a solace that words can not adequately convey. Tucked in between silk & cotton & a firm feathery mattress I found a support system that has managed to rival working out, hot greasy McDonald's french fries, iced tea on a hot summer's day, chocolate, & even sex (well, what I can remember, this celibacy has gone from a great idea into a long term memory problem...possibly dementia...I digress, different post for a different day)...

***PAUSE***

Ok, maybe not sex, but you get my point. I stumbled across something divine. But just like it's supportive, my bed has become enabling. It is a cruel catch-22. A certified mea culpa that I happily indulge(d) in with no immediate regrets. It seems like I have found myself...found myself wanting to haul myself out of my bed & toss my body off of a bridge. So I'm up now (curled up on the couch) wiping the long built up crust from my perverbial eyes &; I'm asking myself, "really, what happens when the rainbow isn't enough??".

Now don't get me wrong, I am no longer at the point where I want to literally end it all but I'm stuck between that gray area of Life & Death. I'm happily content, set on cruise in the "Existing" lane. I'm unhappy, slightly jaded, still hurting (over some BS mind you), and feeling like the biggest failure I know. When I was twenty, twenty five was the year of reaching my mountain top. Twenty five, has in fact, turned out to be my own personal seventh circle of hell. This year has been ridiculous, and was the follow up to year twenty four which was insane. I'm so happy to be nearing another birthday, but ONLY b/c I'm still alive. I think I'm scared that twenty six will be the "three's the charm" in a mix of events in my life that, albeit character building, have been...well...hard. I can't find another word to sum it up more completely. I'm not complaining, I'm just looking for a reason. A reason to move over to another lane & start driving and living my life again. And this rainbow everyone's chasing certainly hasn't been enough for me.

After talking to a sister of mine from church, she helped me understand two things. 1.) We've ALL been there!! Apparently I'm not alone in the "I feel like a lunatic & wanna DIE" club. But its about how I nurture the seeds in my life. If I cultivate the negativity, it will grow. As on Earth, as is in Heaven...you know how the sayings go...& its the truth. & 2.) Things get better. *sigh* I want to believe her so bad. She's 33, in a wildly budding & prosperous career, newly married to a beautiful man who truly supports her dreams & strengths & is there through the storms & her fears. When we speak, I am always encouraged, but then the logical me creeps up & smacks the positivity from my hand & again I'm left holding nothing.

So...I'm concluding a few things...I'm my worst enemy, I don't support myself enough, & the fact tht I wake up in the mornings should be reason enough...I'm looking for a reason that is already w/in my grasp but seems SO much farther away...so I'm making changes. Slowly. First change?? I'm taking time to really breathe again.

I can't believe it, but I'm actually looking forward to rolling out of bed, opening my blinds & taking a few moments to watch the sun rise again. And although my bed is still my most secure form of support, I think that, with a little practice, my attachment will become less compulsory. Or maybe not. But hey, I still have the the sun rises for now & that's progress (& we take progress where we can get it!!!)

So...really, what's our fate?? What happens to us colored girls when the rainbow is not enough?? Welp, I'm almost positive, convinced even, that the rainbow will NEVER be enough!! Look, I don't have all the answers (uhhhm, obviously) But I truly belive that if we put God first & then find the fervor for our life, our passion, & the one's in our life that we love than that will put us on the path to our purpose...& we'll get there, wherever "there" may be.
Yup. One foot in front of the other.
One sunrise one laugh one smile one hug one step at a time...



j. claude(C)2010 Phoenix

Living life & finding balance**

For all intensive purposes, energy starts out in a neutral state & dependng upon wht it comes in contact with, it becomes one of two thngs...(+) or (-)...yes, it can be disparaged, BUT there are no gray areas...it eithr is or it ain't *LESSON* I cnt deny its presence, but I CAN alter its charge ovr my life...#wisdom

The above is a status* I posted on FB today. Its pretty self explanatory, but for all of my non science heads out there, let me give you a rough breakdown of it...then I'm going to relate it to present day, real life foolywang.

On batteries you see positive and neutral signs and you always hear about positive & neutral energy. Well in science, ALL energy starts out neutral. Energy becomes positive or negative depending upon electrons & neutrons that are being added & taken away. Please don't blow a head gasket on me people, I'm done w/the HS bio presentation. I said all of that to relate this to the positive and negative energy flowing in and out of our lives.

I've always been a fan of sappy cliches (i.e. "Lemons to lemonade", joy comes in the morning", "darkest before the dawn" etc)...& being that is it may, I've written my own. One in particular I wrote in my affirmation. "Take those rocks life is tossing at your head, & start building your foundation"...that's right. I'm saying, when you get thumped upside the dome w/situation after situation, stop sitting amongst the rubble & ruins of your life. Use it to your advantage. And speaking of which, back to energy...

Experiences in our lives are clothed in energy. Every single one of them. Some positive & some negative...but the beauty about energy, much like the beauty of rocks thrown in our direction, is that no matter how it comes at you, you have the option of how you will utilize it. If something negative is happening in your life, change your perspective, move seats, put on your perverbial 3-D life glasses & take another look at things. What can you do to NOT waste that negative energy?? What can you do to apply a bit of positive energy to the situation so that the whole thing can shift for your good?? If any of you know me personally, you know that I've picked up my Bible & I am preaching to MYSELF...

I'm learning to take the rocks, and build a solid foundation (rooted in my walk with Christ & buildng my faith). I'm rerouting negative energy in my life to power the creative muse w/in myself...Urging along my dreams & having that Queen Esther kind of faith. <<---Everything I need, God placed w/in me. This means, no external source should be a means of validation, love, hope, peace, joy etc. External sources that bring along those things in tow is always an added bonus...but that's all it is..its NOT a vital piece of thread holding together my life. Lastly, & most importantly, I am NOT my current situation in life. I think this is where a lot of us ("us" being young mid-twenties in the midst of our budding career or in the crux of our continuing education plans) seem to despair & lose hope. Growing up as competitve youth, many of us don't know how to handle the pitfalls of life. We are used to making a plan & getting to our destination free of roadblocks. We believe that if we are determined & disciplined, we will avoid traps & unnecessary failure. And this is true...but even tho you know with a certainty that the sun will rise & set, you can't say for certain where rain will & won't fall from one day to the next. Its cold one day, hot the next..you get the picture...


Soooo...energy...rocks...lemonade...sunshine...rain...blah blah blah...it all boils down to this, life is gonna happen...so its up to us to find some anchor & get some balance...

I promise, its a LOT harder than it sounds, but its so worth it...


(C)j.claude2010


*the term is "intents & purposes". I apologize for my status faux pas ::blushes::

**This particular blog is dedicated to one of my best home girls, Miss Black NC herself, RaSheeda A. Waddell.

Legendary 18/30

You know...
there are tales of a place where passion grows
It is surrounded by concrete & stone
and its told that travelers of old trapped their lustful moans inside these walls to preserve our way of life during emergencies...
times of duress...
but there's only one path..
guarded by a gate keeper
& they call her Ecstasy
She pledges allegiance to no one but herself
Her twin sisters Amora & Demona are equally as self serving
They are all stunning, conniving, vicious beauties
Do you hear me?
The Devil will play the role of Love who will play the role Ecstacy w/o a second thought
But...so goes life...
and so if you get there at the right time, you'll find the sister that has the key

Ecstasy

they say her eyes are mirrors
so one should not glance long
unless they are comfortable being seen
I mean really seen
And for the right price she will guide you through the darkness...
hips swaying like fruit frm trees
her breathng reminiscent of lilts on a morning breeze
and as the path narrows
its easy to see how passion could grow frm concrete
light escapng frm fissures in the ground bouncing off the ceilng like music notes in no particular order...
Like ivy running up walls
there are slash marks being worn like badges of honor upon these stones...
hurt...
despair...
betrayel...
this is a fountain of life housed in a tomb of death...
but passion, passion grows here
It grows unequivocally & w/o explanation
it rises up under extreme difficult heart wrenching circumstances
this is the one place where man can view God & not be killed frm exposure to the light
the one place to commune w/His energy...to dominate ever present fears & to really be seen
staring into the mirrored eyes of the gatekeepr while she waits..
patiently..ready to show you back to your starting point
but quietly checking for your signal so as not to disturb your meetng w/your destiny
& those who know, know...that until you find that place
the tomb built of stone & concrete, tht place where passion grows
then you'll never understand the interactions & relationships of mankind

& a woman, you will nevr truly know...



(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Hmmm...

I know I owe everyone about 13 more poems to complete my "30 in 30"...I have been so busy and distracted lately...but I'm going to get it done for the simple fact that I need to complete the tasks I start

Meanwhile, just showing some love to my blog...plenty of insightful things to say, and nothing to say *Le Sigh* o_O It has been one of those crazy emotional past couple of weeks...months... =/

Going to bed now...will reconvene in the morning.




Fairy tales are for the faint of heart, & everyone has to lose sometimes... -Phoenix

Off Kilter 17/30

I like to think that I’m doing something worthwhile
That my orated thoughts are catalysts of sorts…
But I remember that nothing new has ever been done
And I know it’s wrong but sometimes I get moody
And I can’t find the point
And I can’t find a reason
And I want to quit life altogether

And I tend to sit
I just sit and stare at my pen in disgust
As I drift through colorful menageries
Longing for straight laced revelations amongst these wrinkles in time
Losing complete sense of value of my words
Thusly losing sight of the value of my worth

So I stop
Stop spinning in circles losing my way
And I find resolution in
Closing my eyes
Freeing my mind
Touching fingertip to tip
Thumbs to bottom lip
Index fingers pressed into the bridge of my nose
Doing the only thing I know to do
Pray…until I find my balance again


(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Honey Bunches of Oats 16/30

Big bowls of cereal captured his heart every single morning

Like clockwork

[tick] went the bowl on the table
[tock] went the spoon against the ceramic
[tick] went the rumbling and bangs from upstairs
[tock] went the slam of the door
[tick] went the beat of his heart
[tock] always managing to recover from it’s falter
Looking up into the face of his beautiful Mother
He’d always notice her complexion around one eye seemed different than the other
But she hushed his comments and admonished him to eat
And so he’d eat
And he’d offer her big soggy spoonfuls from the bottom of his big cereal bowl
Two percent milk dripped from the bottom of his nutmeg colored lips
That wrapped his hundred watt smile
And his Mother would never ever resist
And she would consume his offering
And pray that like her Sunday morning ten percents
This bottom of the bowl sacrifice would supply her with just enough faith
To make it to the next breakfast
And it never ceased to amaze him how his cereal
Could make her cry and laugh in the same breath
And she’d whisper her thank you’s
With her lips painted on to his ear
Then send him off to school

Moment after moment after day after day after year after year

Until he blinked
And the footprints of his Mother had been replaced by his own beautiful wife
And so he would offer her big soggy spoonfuls from the bottom of his big cereal bowl
Two percent milk dripping from the bottom of his nutmeg colored lips
That wrapped his hundred watt smile
And his Wife, much like his Mother, would never ever resist
But the bliss turned a bit distressing when he noticed that
Around her eyes were the same complexion

And so he decided to fix it
Bludgeoned her eye with the force of a typhoon
That forever left her mentally lost at sea & permanently scarred
And he never forgave himself and so he took his regret and stress out on her
Time and again
Like clockwork
[tick] went the glass of the window
[tock] tock went her head against the frame
[tick] went his heart when she’d stop breathing
[tock] though she faltered she never quit living

And every day he’d weep
Plead for her forgiveness
He’d mumble incoherent thoughts concerning his sorrow
But she hushed his comments
Accepted his forgiveness
And admonished him to eat
And so he’d eat
And he’d offer her big soggy spoonfuls from the bottom of his big cereal bowl
Two percent milk dripping from the bottom of his nutmeg colored lips
That wrapped his hundred watt smile

And he finally understood how one could cry and laugh in the same breath
And his Wife would never ever resist
And she would consume his offering
And pray that like her Sunday morning ten percents
This bottom of the bowl sacrifice would supply her with just enough faith
To make it to the next breakfast

(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Misdiagnosis 15/30

I embraced the butterflies that set up residence in my stomach on the eve of our first kiss
That is, until I became an activist
Now the whole world thinks I'm sick
Recklessly bingeing on the idea of you & purging our memories
But that ain’t it
I ain’t sick
I just stuck my finger down my throat to set them free

Let them shake from their wings the residue of putrid spoiled love
Long processed but never digested
Just settling in the pit of my gut
Rising around the butterflies’ feet
Sloshing around the edges of their wings
And as they pushed their feathery extensions toward Heaven praying for release
I assumed that the feelings I felt were of joy & contentment
But the butterflies were no longer content and that meant no relief for me
And with their lives in the balance they warranted their right, their need to be free
And so now you see how it had nothing to do with him
But it had everything to do with the activist in me

So, as not to seem a hypocrite, I did the only decent thing
And though to the outside world it may have looked like I was
Recklessly binging on the idea of you and purging our memories
That was never the case
I simply stuck my finger down my throat
Cause that was the only way to set them free
Plus, the way I figure
The butterflies shouldn’t have to pay for my bad choices in consumption…


(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

When keeping it real goes wrong (Haiku for you) 14/30

Running with scissors/is bad for your health. ::as I/hide the wet floor sign:: ;o)

(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

That was easy enough 13/30

I used to scream and curse the day you were born
because not only did you crack my heart
and steal my ribs so I’d lose the ability to stand upright w/o you
and cut me down at the knees
and then merged your lies with the salve meant to heal me
and then prayed for my healing
and then preyed on my healing
and then pirated my dreams
and then left me for dead
but you successfully managed to taint the Moon
and the Sun too, but secretly the Moon is my favorite

so you see how my indignation reaches new levels at night
when I lay in the breeze and stare at the Moon…
just all kinds of tainted and nasty
you turned it green and dimmed it just a little bit
and it becomes hard for me to view it in it’s complete splendor
without furrowing my brows
and crooking my mouth
and gagging just a little bit
and I blamed you for years

that is until the day I took the initiative & wiped the crusted residue of us from my mind
then from my lips
my hips
my fingertips
and, finally, from my eyes…
blinked a few times & realized
it was never the Moon that was tainted
I just had to get rid of all that debris so I could see clearly

(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

What lies beneath 12/30

She went in for a D & C
But the indecency of the entire matter left her feeling hollow
and rightly so
While laid out across that table all alone like a ram for the taking
Swaddled in a pure cotton fabric sheath
Hem swaying in the sterile breeze circulating through the ventilation system
Hopping skipping and jumping across the dew drops of the
Remaining bits of the fabric of her life that had been left on the table

bit by bit she swallowed the regurgitated mass of bitter words
she’d been force to consume
“ain’t no child of mine havin’ no baby round here, makin’ me look bad”
Bitter acidic words
Tainted
Remnants of altered egos
Indignation
That haughty Church Mother pride
& spiked with tiny shards of hate

But she swallowed them
And soon chased them down with the bitter liquid that would expel from her
the pox that she had brought upon her family’s name and upon their house
handed to her in a goblet, fixed by her own Mother, she drank in remembrance of…
of her hopes that finally she’d have something to call her own
to love her
but at the bottom of the glass there were no memories
only echoes of her ineptitude
grievous miserable child
scorned by the ones she resembled most
ever present by her side
in that cool sterile office all alone
No one to assist with the gift that Miseducation had given her
Even after her shame was covered
The residue of ignorance lay dormant in her womb and gave way to infection
So they scraped her womb
Searching for abnormalities
Searching for a truth

But miseducation led to a misdiagnosis
And the prognosis began a pattern from then on
Her womb healed for awhile
But continued to become infected
Every single time she got pregnant
She was forced to swallow more bitter words
Chased by those bitter home made remedies
Specially purposed to placate…I mean, cure misbeheavin’ children of their sin
But she never told her doctors
Never shared with them her gifts from Miseducation

And so they routinely searched
But to no avail
And it’s no surprise really…

Though infections continuously made haste to settle in her womb
They were problems stemming from products of Ignorance taking shelter in her mind…


(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Mic Frauds (Haiku for you) 11/30

Fresh, from mind to pad./Say it with your actions/your words have grown stale...

(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Truth of the matter is...(Haiku for you) 10/30

anything you can/ do i can do better. I/ just feign dumb for fun!! ;o)




(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Perpetuation 9/30

They tied her down
fertilized her
pointed her in the general direction of the Sun’s arrival during his visits
and cut her

they cut her first at the limbs and said grow
and so like any good student, she grew
followed the instructions of the blind who were leading her
pushed her roots deep into the filth and dirt that was contaminating her fruit
and grew

sipped at the edge of the rivers that were feeding her so much poison
that her green leaves were stained with blue
and not like that blue in the sky
but that black blood blue
that sojourner tubman douglas blue
that star in the sky leading us back home blue
and she grew

and grew

and grew

‘til they chopped her down at the roots
and her fruit toppled to the Earth
smashing and cracking on the rocks
all that infected juice
spilling
penetrating
nourishing the ground around her

listened while the others, tied down, mourned her loss,
listened to them quickly begin the songs of Zion
in thanks for her gracious support of their life
and she smiled, then thought twice
once to warn them not to partake of the plenty
twice to smooth over that twinge of hate that crept up from her hardened core
so she did the only decent thing to do

she took her final breaths and accepted her forced rest
laid out amongst scattered tainted leaves
making a swift escape thru death’s door
leaving in her wake, a cycle perpetuated


(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Right right...True true... 8/30

Periodically I find myself weeping over you
tirelessly
and I'm sorry if the world is tired of hearing
about how I never got tired of hearing
your brazen embodiment of all things living loving and life had to offer me
and you offered it all to me
tirelessly
so periodically I watched you sleep
kept watch over your heart like you were paying me
but money could not put a dent in the compensation your arms dispensed
and I went from nothing to the richest woman in the world
and it was just you and me
and you guarded over me
tirelessly
so periodically I fed you nourishment
found the cracks in your concrete and watered your soul
nurtured the roses that began to grow
and though your rough thorny exterior pained me
your beauty amazed me
and so i risked being stuck
kept getting stuck & bleeding my dreams for you
and your thorns, they kept paining me
and your beauty continued to amaze me
and so I invested on this cyclic endeavor
and to show your appreciation you bloomed
fragrant & amazing & so full of yearning
bloomed right before my eyes
every morning, before the sun, you'd rise
all of this, just for me
tirelessly
so periodically I write a different end to our story
an end that has the potential to begin again
where you’re still offering your guardianship & blooming in the light of the sun
but no matter my delusions, I periodically find myself weeping over you
tirelessly
and tirelessly I have to suck it up
suck it up & remind myself…
fairy tales are for the faint of heart
and everyone has to lose, sometimes

(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Waffle House.Jaded 7/30

“I ain’t goin’ no where…love you, forever.”
Count them. Eight Words.
Eight words
Nine dates
Ten kisses Eleven kisses Twelve kisses Thirteen kisses Fourteen kisses Fifteen kisses
Sixteen smiles
seventeen arguments
eighteen hugs
nineteen orders
twenty Waffles

one reason…
why counting is so overrated
well, counting…and breakfast


(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

New SpokenWord/Music!!

Taking some time to link my Blog to my VBlog--stay tuned!!


Just some pics I put together to depict the concept of this track--Enjoy!!

Collab track I did w/Spoken Word Artist LIFE. J.Claude(Me) on: instrumentation (violin) & vocals

*Special thanks to W. Oatman (Engineer/Production)!!*





Just In case the video doesn't upload, CLICK THE TITLE to see the video...

Peace & Blessings
~Phoenix

Tear. Drop. 6/30

Like pollen tickling the upper echelon elitist of the sinus cavity
These tears have been irritating the dry poverty lines beneath my eyes for far too long
Onlookers scream out “Just let them fall!!”
But they don’t understand

The sadness has become so volatile
That the swift movement of bitter tear racing from cheek to ground
Is enough to spark a sweet flame in this arid condition

Irrigation systems have long since been implemented
Rooted at the well of my heart
And race the course of my skin
Misappropriated affection led to the malfunction of said heart
Said heart was the root at the well
Said well ran dry
And now, not even in the presence of Hell itself can I burst into a sweat

Opinions of friend, foe, and those who “been there bee-fo’ “
Roll out expensive therapeutic Kentucky Blue grass across my barren landscape
Hoping that it will quickly stick and grow
Praying my dying foliage doesn't bring down their property value
And grow it does
Quickly
But just as soon sliding across my mental
Like fresh white socks on dead hardened wood floors
It doesn’t stick

Its only an aberration of what they wish was the case when they looked at me
They want my sadness to be joy
My smile, original and authentic
But the smile is plaster
Lightweight materials filling a hole
A hole that can be pushed in with only the slightest bit of pressure
Revealing the ravaging of the lies that have long since eaten through the frame behind these walls

These tears
Faithfully proclaiming loyalty to a cold decrepit memory of a warm thriving existence
Are irritating the dry poverty lines beneath my eyes
Making their way to the bend of my nose
In search of freedom and a life outside of being trapped behind flooded lids

And so I wait
Anticipatory muscles in my face twitch and push the bitters tears to the edge of their cliff
Ready to jump
Ready to spark the sweet flame

And so I wait
Staring out at the crowd screaming “Just let them fall”

I wonder, which one of them will be the first to put out the fire...



(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Random Ailment 5/30

I've got this problem with my lips
They peel a lot
And see this was never an issue, because it was never an issue until I met you

Met you in late summer

And you first kissed me in early fall
Venom began rubbing off a few weeks later
But it didn’t start visibly affecting me until the seasons shifted
And with the cooler temperatures came the first signs of my ailment

As Winter had a growth spurt and made like Sunday morning
Cold easy and dry became the trifecta that laid the foundation of our house
But because our abode was cold easy and dry
My lips just wouldn’t stop peeling
So I relied on your heat your hardness your moisture
Those irresistible fiery candy coated honey laden sentiments
flowed from your orifice to mine
Sticking to my bottom lip like hot gum crushed up under the weight of sculpted heels

And the more red flags I saw
I protested
But as lip met lip they would stick
And it became easier to stay silent
Until the stickiness subsided
Subsided, and finally gave way to the peeling

The peeling

The peeling, the only sign that I was dealing with an infection
And with every kiss it grew more aggressive
So I searched for ointment, covered it up with the ex’s
No, not Blistex or Carmex
But comparisons of previously nurtured relationships
You know, The Ex’s
Shoulda. Coulda. Woulda.
And since you loved me a little bit better than he should have
And held me a little bit tighter than the rest of them could have
I went along for a ride that, under normal circumstances, I never would have

My sense gave way to common misconceptions
That teaches common simple women
The simple common practice of engaging in unprotected love
So I commonly engaged in unprotected love

With you.

Time and again.

The ensuing pregnancy led to the gestation labor and birth of your seed
So we did the only decent thing
Decided to become a family
We held hands and gazed into each others eye's and named him Insecurity
But dreams faded into reality
The reality that you never loved me

And as the tale goes, you’re gone so I’m left to raise our bastard son
A son who is no less than his Father’s child
Cause when I kiss him at night and our lips meet
Your blood coursing through him meets me
And pumps a little more venom into my soul
And so my lips, they continuously peel
Even though you are long gone
They peel
They peel and its fiery
But I endure the pain
Raise our child in a happy home
And so that our abode never again becomes cold easy or dry
I nurture our seed, kiss him every night
Because no matter the sins of the Father
Every child needs their Mother…


(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Natural Beauty (Haiku for you) 4/30

Ruff and tuff with my/Afro puff!! Who wants to buy/my Chi? Just call me ;o)


(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Be back shortly (Haiku for you) 3/30

Blue moons pave the way./One ticket to outer space./Gone (to find my love)


(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

If you're not first... 2/30

Coming in second place NEVER sat well with me

and although my love for you wafts thick

it's not thick enough to mask the pungent odor of the stale nothings you whisper in my ear

the rough edges of fingertips once soft caressing her mind

now weathered by the winds in your travels to be by my side

I can no longer oblige

I love you enough to give you time to finish it with her & with me begin to build

I love me enough to know that you never will...



(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Lost (Haiku for you) 1/30

My crystal ball dis/solved into sand. How do I/ find my way from here??

(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Its been too long...

I know I've been distant, but please charge it to my head and not my heart...I was born under a bad sign and am spacey by nature ;o) But no, really I've been STUPID busy, however, I really am pressing to stay more focused and blog on a consistent basis. Seeing as how it's National Poetry Month, (and speaking of being consistent) I feel it only befitting to post a piece every day. The Thirty Day Challenge begins!! So I'll put them here and on FB <3 Enjoy, and once again, it's good to be back.

Peace & Blessings
Phoenix