The road of love-intentions
is paved with potholes,
major dips & cracked tarmac.

In fact, it is indeed
the slipperiest of slopes,
one of the highest
most lucid-rushes,
where one can drop
into the lowest of lows,
a pitched darkness,
feeling like a simple-ghost
repeating history.

It's the toughest habit to kick.
Every time I try, I feel
like a drugged-mule
crazed & stubborn,
kicking for a deliverance
but wanting more
of that good stuff.

short is the most delicious look
silence is the loudest book
with lips the hungriest food
and night the darkest wildest mood
breathing is the deepest ****
giving in the hottest ****
love is a bittersweet borrowed lie
time is a slowly emptied sigh
deception is the sharpest yet rustiest lance
and rage the slowest, saddest dance
while truth's just polished-up confusion
with words - the slipperiest illusion








- - - - -

A roundabout paved
A single stormy wave
Which incapsulated
The most rogue of my brains
Ever since I've followed
I've been taken in spades
I can hear  cement
Cracking in my name
Dirt is more natural
Yet lacking in traction
To this day I'm defined by this slipperiest of action
A Faction  a singular piece
Turned my elbows from dust to contingent visceral grease
A twist of a spin in a moment can release
Quickly I am burdened for my aim is to please

I am no judge of good character
(think I am the greatest poet-***-bf ever)

I used to be a sharp dresser,
(then to the time twisted testing,
t'is of tiny import sense succumbed)

I used to love woman by the score
(Ha! fooled ya, still do, will dying do so,
but caught in a single spider's heartweb,
I read, and I love, and cheat only nowadays
with weak eyes and strong words)

I used to be young in heart,
(self impressed at my talented prose,
but then my eyes grew keener,
the more I read, the older I got,
the more others led me faster,
sweeter to the promised land)

so I trip 'n skip in the waterfall pool,
that forms where the poems cascading
are laid down to peaceful repose to keep,
and too oft, sad uneyed loneliness

yet, I see a graffiti on the clear bottom,
white paint upon an earthen rock,
wipe away the eddys, put aside the ego,
lift it, lift me up, that stone,
with caressing care to read:

So Jo Was Here

oh indeed indeed in deed another poet,
who blues my heart with words modest,
in combinations that say to me
you knew that, but not till now!

how did she know that

words and words and -
ironies usurp courage
adventure scowls unsated
Times New Roman ****
pixels unconsummated
similes sin-taxed for hits
stale nefarious negging
all heros on the page
reality waits begging

I read and I think
did I not write these words?

love is a bittersweet borrowed lie
time is a slowly emptied sigh
deception is the sharpest yet rustiest lance
and rage the slowest, saddest dance
while truth's just polished-up confusion
with words - the slipperiest illusion

But I did not!
nope but I read them cause

So Jo Was Here

stoked and croaking,
addicted, I read on
only to find my mirror image
once again, one mo' time crime

But I was held unknotted only,
oblivion teetering on the pinch
of a thumb and forefinger.

Until slowly but cynically,
gasp by gasp,
all was forced out, and when
the moment came to go,
there was nothing left to go on

so it is written, so it will be read

then you can say too,
as I did, as I here confess,
in my recesses unexplored,
trembled to find,
overjoyed to be
me revealed
cause:

*So Jo Was Here

The way you move your hips
To the rhythm we’ve created
As the lips slide across one another
****, you so ******’ wet
To the way I push down on ya pelvis
My otha lips French kissin’
Our tongues rubbing, caressin’ ... vertically sometimes a horizontal movement
All while your juices run into mine ....
The rhythm we’ve created is mixing the two
Creating this ******’ mess we call ecstasy
The most wettest, slipperiest, sweet as nectar comes
The perfect consistency to slurp
Just to allow a little to drip so that it can be twirled and played with
It’s called sprung juice.... THA ******* GOING type juice... The “I promise to always...” juice.... That I’m not and don’t ******* play when it comes to you no matter who it is!! Tha ****!
The feeling makes my limbs go numb
Creates this pulsating wavy feeling
I’m weak, your panting and we’re in total bliss
Too sensitive to touch
Too sensitive and exhausted to move
“Just let me lay here” I tell you
The supernova we created was so intense
We can only hold hands while we fall asleep
Wishing to dream of what just took place
I’ve met my match
I have the intimacy piece that was missing
It was you, My ******’ Dawg 🤞🏽💕