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Saturday, July 30, 2011

The Longing

I saw him. In all his splendor. 
I wanted him. In all his existence.
By fear, I'm hindered. 
Afraid of being resisted. 

The longing to be recognized, to be craved.
A game of cat and mouse, well played.
Inspired by the breeze, that flows freely.
I want to surround his body, become his positive energy. 

Dangerously in lust, for a moment I would like to freeze desire. 
Allowing the non tangible intimacy spark a fire.
Melt away all uncertainties. This type of warmth, I never want to leave.

The longing to whisper his name. The longing for our last names to be the same. 
The longing to bring forth a healthy child, with his smile. Providing him a chance to exist with me, then create his own extension of himself. These longings I can't help.

His scent is the fliest of the high. 
I inhale and patiently wait to be lifted among the clouds.
Here we connect on a level that can never be duplicated.
Leaving kisses in the sky, once nightfall our love shines in the stars.
Although it shines from afar, Beauty is now reciprocated.

A timeless longing. A craving that haunts me.
Check ()Yes ()No ()Maybe 
This poem was just a fancy way of asking If you'll go out with me. 

  








Monday, July 11, 2011

When I'm In It

That sinking feeling. Feet in this setting become my anchor.  
The waves of emotion crash against the rocks, my body gives way.
And when I'm in this position, the drowning brings me to life.


I surface unaware that existing in this moment can be snatched away with one shot to the head.
But sometimes you must die in order to live. 

Reality is only as real as I allow it to be. 
Fantasy left in the water, thoughts spit out by the sea.



Rage brought me here, drifting on uncertainty. When I'm in this position, I push myself to paddle. To row, to stroke, to steer towards land. 
Knowing my second chance is right below the sands.

Distracted by the projection of rejection. Images crumbling all around me. 
Tidal waves creating ripples in my heart. Light at my back requesting to be shed. 
Fascination needs to be fed.

Open to interpretation, broadcasting my fear. 
Don't change the station.
Regret is near. 
Broken sound, silence has shattered.


That kick echoed for an eternity, the vibration matters.
When I'm in it, the music stops.

Alas, the world is my crew. Knowing how to smile at me just right. 
Allowing me to make up the rules as I go. 
Without a fight.

I'm fortunate to have an architect intelligent enough to be the voice of reason.
Uncovering all of me, even the parts that fell off the ledge, easy.

Leave me in limbo, sedated and sexy. 
Down here, there's no existence for sinning.


So please allow my totem to continue spinning.
Pitch me an idea, grant my greatness an extra Inning.
Stealing my desires are only the beginning.

  

The spaces in this piece was for you to visualize your own ending of When you're in it.



Sunday, June 26, 2011

Forbidden Fruit

Many sleepless nights blanket my spirit. Haunted by various examples of desire, as Lust lays atop my skin. Can you see it?
The toss and turn, head underneath the pillows. Cool air from the ceiling fan, now between my legs the pillow goes. 


Imagining the fan is actually your breath delivered on a cool breeze. You're slow rolling my nipples, they harden with ease. My body obeys to the slightest touch. Such a dramatic high causing my senses to rush. Addicted to the very existence that is you, but alas, you are Forbidden fruit.

I want to slowly swallow from your fountain of youth, keeping my heart strong. Melodic motions, sliding down my throat, THAT sound forms the perfect song. Hard harmonies diving into a symphony of tonsils, but alas, your sweet taste is Forbidden fruit. 

Knowing someone else enjoys your laugh and smile, I become intrigued. See, I thought only my  presence could bring forth the curves in the corner of your mouth. Beautiful teeth behind the lips that can suck a soul out. I guess Forbidden fruit grows in a public spot.


My earth once held down your roots. Your growth expanded along with my hunger. Patiently waiting til you were ripe enough to choose, savoring while my mind begins to wonder. 
Wondering why my appetite craves you, I cover myself in your leaves of truth. 
Here, I'm full.

Life has fed me thus far. But I'm a picky eater. I'm surrounded by candy daily, yet I search for something sweeter. I look to you. Go ahead and disturb this meal that I thought was meant for me. Climb on the table whispering "Eat me please" 

Alas, you are Forbidden too. 
Taught that only man meat is what I need. A woman on the plate is only there to please, tease, and put the curiosity of exotic foods to ease. The debate over these delicacies causes me to test taste each. Drenched in their scents, I am pleased. 


But, I can not continue to indulge, Forbidden fruits don't fill me up. I'm satisfied for only a short time. Replaying that first bite over and over in my mind. I reenact that moment I closed my eyes as that intensity tap danced on my tongue, only in my fantasies I am not wrong.  

Finding peace from across the street, I now just stare at the tree. Smiling every time it sheds a leaf. I imagine it has outgrown the earth it's in. Resisting the urge to dig it up, my feet stay planted, again. If I continue to lust mentally is it still a sin? My thoughts aren't actions, so in my sub conscience I orchestrate an elaborate feast of pretend. 


One day a tree will grow just for me. I shall pluck from it freely. Its fruit will nourish me, colored leaves cover and protect me. 
I will feast for days, proud to let my mind, body, and soul eat, eat, eat. 
Although every now and then, I want to consume what's across the street.






Sunday, May 22, 2011

Deep In Fina

He Comes alive inside of me. Exploring every twist and turn.
The opportunity to dive into my abyss has been earned.
I'm pretty sure he'll meet the other parts of me along the way.
Each has her own presentation set up to entice him to stay.

Enter a realm of where nothing becomes something, and something strives to maintain.
Where passion pricks the skin and flows freely throughout my veins.
Such a dope depth you can simultaneously get high to.
A euphoric mixture of crazy, sexy, cool.

Stretched out on a bed of uncertainty. I expect the sheets to cheat. Sneak & tell tales of  how dried desires, convoluted conversations, and smothered moans meet. A menage' of melted energy, that feeds their curiosity.
The hunger for more is embellished yet unique.

It's impossible for me to be consumed in one sitting.
The deeper he goes, the desire to live here increases.
There's so many different parts of my body where he can fit in.
Break down the sections before savoring all of my pieces.

My name lingers on his tongue, long after his thirst has been quenched.
Fina's waters leaves his entire soul drenched.
Every time he breathes, I feel it upon my fingertips. That exhale inspires me.
Furiously, I write and write, hoping to mimic the exact emotion his existence pulls from me.

Careful which end is chosen to be the entrance. I prefer his thoughts slip through the cracks in my cranium, so I can enjoy another way of getting brain from him.
 Although we both know the silky solitude between my thighs is what really makes him rise.
Intense, pulsating persuasion? That's what I call my whispering eye.

Sometimes I swallow him whole so he can swim in the belly of the beast.
My beauty captured him, now he's addicted to the feast.
Delectable dining, serving him until Infinity. Now that you've dove to the bottom, why wouldn't YOU want to be In to me?



This journey isn't complete if you brake around my curves. No need to prolong this discovery, so speeding up is what I urge. 
Along the way, hidden desires will become revealed.


Sunday, May 8, 2011

Dear Mama



Dear Mama I close my eyes I still see you, your smile, your laugh. I'm floating on a tear filled river, your memories are on a raft. 
Your beauty blinding from inside out. I promise not to scream, kick, or shout. 

Patricia Ann Wade aka Momma Pat I'd give anything to have you back, just to hear you fuss. I promise to take you to Dollar General, even if it takes you 2 hours, I wont rush. 

I will go up and down the isles with you buying knick knacks for the grand kids, and especially for your garden. You have to know that you're my heart and although your spirit has gone to a better place, Mama I miss your face. 

There are so many questions I want to ask, so many thoughts running through my mind. I understand God needed his Angel who was indeed one of a kind. 

I miss going to Piggly Wiggly everyday and speaking to anyone who looked your way. I'm needing you today to wipe away my tears, soothe my fears, and finish this poem created especially for you. You were not perfect but to your family & friends you stayed true. 


Zay, Shay, Rita, and me carry you in our hearts and when you get lowered into the ground, it will be the hardest part. But we don't want to be selfish so we will consider this a home going celebration. September 6 God sent an angel & Patricia Ann Wade was his creation.

 He molded you and allowed you to touch the lives of everyone who made contact. We All Love you and That's a fact. I'm proud to have you as a Mother & Friend...Earth couldn't hold you so its to the Heavens you were Sent. 

I know you're up there laughing with that smile so bright. Mommy I know you will light up the Sky at night. Because on Earth you were a Star & through prayer, You will never be too Far. Talk to You Soon. Love Ayana Eintou Wade




Sunday, April 24, 2011

Yesterday Vs. Tomorrow

Living for today. But trapped between yesterday's reality and tomorrow's fantasies. 
Letting go of what Ive already done to prepare for what could be.
Yesterday's actions cant be erased. 
So I'm only motivated by previous happenings. 
Analyze, then silently scheme today about tomorrow's premeditated passion. 

Words and sounds on repeat. Today i wont accept Tomorrow's defeat. 
Let me choose my fate, even if the menu offers it bitter sweet.
A continuous mumble of mistakes. A plethora of promises daydreamed awake.

Today is humorous because I survived Yesterday's antics. An unsolved mystery of purpose, ready for Tomorrow's deceit.
Revised versions of myself  multiplied by panic. Distraught by the cloned acceptance my soul seeks.


Yesterday vs. Tomorrow. Today is the referee. 
Blowing whistles the instant my behavior becomes flagrant. 
Controlled moments with robotic thoughts, fearing Tomorrow's fragrance.
The smell of differences, free throwing desires. Yesterday isn't fouled out when Tomorrow's charity holds more chances.


Tomorrow is unwritten, intentions seemingly hidden. Today is anxious, observing abstract visions. Knowing Tomorrow's existence depends on Yesterday's interests. Comparing the regretful lived with the hopeful living. 
 
So who wins? Today i search for that answer. 
Using Yesterday's knowledge to put on Today's display.
Encouraging awareness for Tomorrow's show. 

Tainted scripts, made perfectly for reoccurring actors. 
If i can let go of Yesterday's reaction, I'll rehearse Today to maintain Tomorrow's sanity. I know what I did Yesterday was simple. What I'm doing today to preserve my mental, will marinate with intentions of savoring Tomorrow's seasoning. 

No matter what I did or will do, they both have the respect of Today's reasoning. 










Saturday, April 16, 2011

A piece of Me

How do I keep these desires afloat? When what I crave no longer is a choice.
Maybe lie to my reflection, pretend I'm not covered in lust. Shatter the glass that holds a soul's truth to release a crumbling spirit's dust. 
My pearl stays hidden for a reason. but When you dive deep, Slow stroke to the top, every gasp of air you're feening. Swimming in foreign lakes and rivers, allows me to charge your boat with treason. Impregnate my heart so that I may birth love that grows with each season.

I want you to win, but I refuse to lose. Disappointment settles inside, now the main artery is bruised. Beautiful specs of soft whimpers hover above. Every time i unravel, he winds me back Up. Playing yo-yo with our past and present. Dropping wants as needs, only to bounce back without being hesitant.

His commands dripping with power. Running my limbs and thoughts for hours. My Molten mouth melts the fear before its brave devour. These fragments of mental floetry is what I peace together daily. Prayers softly spoken to decipher the real me. Lyrically,  the best experiences happen unexpectedly.

His breath on my clitoris creates such a smoke screen. Vibrations from his tongue always confuse me. Red Herrings courtesy of the Japanese. What have i done to deserve such earth shattering chivalry? He said, "Ladies are supposed to orgasm first. A tsunami of saliva cant be reversed."

The scenario above makes me question my entire existence. On his tongue I live symbolically. Surrounded by several buds, tastes numbed by 3rd degree persistence. What enters the mouth, satisfies the throat so the stomach is less resistant. 

Hunger fulfilled in a poetic instant. Digesting love. 
A piece of me. A part of lust. A plethora of erotic Enigmas that I must keep between Us.




Thursday, March 3, 2011

Consumption

The excessive intake of me, may make it hard for you to breathe. Consume all of my magnetic energy, let it surround your soul completely.
Levitate and float away, past exstacy straight to Happiness.
The Consumption of me isnt negotiable.  No trades allowed. I slowly slide inside and devour.
I seep through your pores and sit atop your skin.
You Reek of me. 

Me in entirety? A delicious web of adventure and wit. Traveling through your veins, the only way out is through a slit. And Im constantly trying to avoid your wrists.
My scent wants to stay upon your lips.
My sweat on your sheets, forever.

The consumption of me is such a delicious treat. I can dance inside your belly making your legs weak. I once was forbidden to ride you, now I live inside you. Close your eyes and lay with me in your dreams. We can rip your nightmares from its seams.
Share fantasies and consume desires.
An strict diet of passion & pain hotter than fire.

Say yes if they ask you if Consumng me is the Best. Our survival is the real test.
I want to trickle down your throat, backstroke through your chest. Kiss on your heart and put the heartache to Rest. I chose you to keep me alive, but wait.
Who's truly consuming who? If either of us flatline, we Are through.
Th consumption works both ways, and im addicted to your energy too.
Lets rationalize our hunger, full of wonder, satisfaction takes us Under.
Consumed.



Monday, February 21, 2011

Killing Me Softly

Senseless killing. Of  my mind, body, and spirit.
Praying on my downfall and distress.
Ok with the combined sounds of love and hate.
You're Killing me softly.

Expectations so high, the clouds envy. Yet my goals and dreams are buried six feet deep.
See, location means everything and represents nothing.
Embellish my existence till Im only gorgeous on paper.
You're Killing me softly.

Stabs to the core of me. Watching my beauty bleed out.
Satisfied my self imaging is now distorted, you smile.
So dependant on your opinion, allowing Only your acceptance to intoxicate me.
You're Killing me softly.

 Invading my body, my passion swallows you whole.
With each stroke, my walls grasp, and You're content when i gasp. a Sign that im still Alive and feeling. Loving the fact that my love tunnel isnt well Traveled. Happy being the only explorer.
You're Killing me softly.

My soul isnt for sale or lease. Only to the universe I decide to release the real me.
Spilling orgasms on the stars, a Galaxy of goodies i leave.
Staying on earth, a piece of me dies every day.
Im now 90% invisible, similar to The Milky way.
You're Killing me softly.

Pre-meditated plots and schemes to suck my spirit dry.
Im every woman's nightmare and every man's desire.
A magnet of maximum moans. I am mirroring lust.
My heartbeats to the tune of captivity. Ready to Flatline at any moment.
You're Killing me softly.

On the other hand, im not ready to break free.
I love my captor and the energy he puts into my keeping me captive.
His choice to crave my elaborate insanity and fear it at the same time.
Delicious crimes against me satisfy his appetite. Everything he needs and nothing he wants.
He's Killing me Softly.

Yet, with each breath i take, he's dying Inside. Im part animal, Pussycat with 9 lives.
His plan for my death is so beautiful though. Ive accepted that no other discoveries for me will be allowed.
My fight for life leaves him wowed.
His creativity to wipe me away, has made me Proud.
No one hears the silent attempts, my poetry makes the Loudest sound.
So, he has to kill me softly.





Tuesday, February 8, 2011

He....



His existence. So Complex and cool.
Im fixated on his eyes. The windows to his soul.
As I peak in, I see myself.
Crystal Clear.
We dont just celebrate the light, we make love through sunsets.
He comes alive in the darkness, such dark deliciousness divine.
Surrendering my fears and taking my dreams off the shelves.
He causes such a beautiful fever. It starts in my thighs and melts my sweet center. Once he pushes inside, he's stuck. A few hip rocks and he's free. Free to roam inside, passion pulsating.
the King of Intimacy. Disecting my desires. Slaying the pain that had My soul in chains.
Ready to keep my literary existence afloat. He inspires me. Turned the I to Us. He even lets me bust first. An explosion of words, moans, and grunts. A series of simultaneous syllables. Tongue full of thunder.
I am. He Is. We Are. Alive.




Cant Help but Wait


Disappointment at one point in time did cloud my true feelings. I admit surprise and sadness simultaneoulsy surrounded my heart. I feel so strung out, my addiction to your mind (the way it works and doesnt work).

You cant leave me for days wondering if I can get high off you again. I analyzed myself night after night, coming to the conclusion that You are worth the pain, the confusion, the anger, the smiles, the warmth, and the cold.

Stranded on this intense island alone, yet i burn a fire every night, so sure of your Rescue. So many planes & boats have found me, only to find your name Carved all over my Soul. They scatter like marbles.

Exile is not a good location for either of us to be, but if You truely wish to reconnect these dots....Do it. Nothing holding you back but the Mental prison walls you've built for Us. I say "Us" because I live there too, I always have. Just been in solitary confinement.

I cant help but wait til the day you Break us Free. WE can live among humans again, just with our Front door close.





Thursday, January 20, 2011

A brilliant multifaceted scribe with An addictive Vibe. Undeniable creativity has been clarified. She carries the ability to leave you mystified.
Complexity in motion, loving her Gets you a lifetime of Devotion. But dont let her Energy give you mixed emotions. She was designed to be potent.
Bathing in different sounds, Her volume loud enough the Angels can hear it. She wont let your opinions dry her spirit. Auora so strong the Devil fears it.
A beautiful wreck with a Survivor's soul. Experiences creating detours along a versatile road. Eyes that have seen everything, yet her mouth Leaves most of the Visions untold.
Designed to protect her mind & heart from the less intense crowd. The ones who request she "dumb it down" and not Represent her Poetic crown. An unfulfilled Life is not hers to own. She lives in Vocabulary lane and Pays rent to Remain in a Heavenly Zone.
In closing, she's Deeper than any Quote. To reach her abyss, you'll need a bigger boat. Not to say your captain status might get revoked. But unless you step it up, its your Entire existence she can choke, no Heimilich allowed. Ayana is a winner without your Vote.

Eintou

Im charged with having too much grown woman Appeal. I'll serve this beautiful life Sentence, no need to appeal.
My parents are the ones who Kept it real, they Knew my existence would be special enough for the world to feel.
Having a poetic Pulse allows my words to live, so dont doubt my Vocabulary unless you want your self-esteem killed.
Nah, im not a murderer, just a professor of Word love, that allows me to Give the Alphabet a hug.
We have a tight bond only my sanity can Break, I realized back in 1999 that Im too intense to be fake.
Im creative Chaos accepting versatility as my Date, then I dance with the Dictionary until my feet begin to Ache.