Long My man Poems
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Anger whisked herself into a gray frenzy of clouds, bordering on black.
A snow blizzard might be on her way; the wind picked up. I looked up.
A dagger of wind hit my chest; I heard myself gasp and wheeze.
Fed tomcat in barn and raced back to the house. My dogs followed.
Look at the clouds! I said to my man. He said “What of them?”
He is not the product of two farm kids like I am.
It’s going to turn bitter cold. We might get snow and possible ice.
You are a weather witch, he said, in the most affectionate way.
I put on an extra pair of socks and began to settle down.
There was a flash across the window. I jumped up to look.
A delivery person was bringing us a package. The dogs howled.
I said “Thank you” and he asked, “have you seen the clouds?”
I could not help thinking he is the product of farm kids too.
We had a snow blizzard with eight inches of snow that night.
We were unable to go anywhere for three days.
I memorized those clouds for future reference.
I will be your bold, blissful, blessing,
your willing, blossoming flower.
Walk in windy, winding ways with you
by the hour.
Shower you with succulent, sweet kisses.
My lips, sweeter by the hour,
Even wash your back with fragrant soap
in the steamym bubbly, shower.
Is this my fantasy, of course it be.
But you are my man of magic.
Just a sensual dream to be.....
Yes, hesitate not, to come to me!
9/3/2021
1P
Ella Hyde
1857- 1898
That cad with the freckle on his forehead,
That rascal man beast,
Handsome as a Greek
But devastatingly insecure,
And so deliciously young!
He was the one who stole my pride,
There, behind the Hadley tombstone in the moonlight,
And who,
Breathlessly and with trembling hands,
Unlatched the ruby red necklace
From around my naked neck that night.
It was he.
That cad who swooped down upon my innocence,
Like a maniacal Zeus
In one of his crazy costumes of concupiscence,
And carried me off to nights of brazen episodes,
Splendid spectacles in light and magic,
Of him and me embracing wildly, madly,
In dreamy dances with caresses and kisses.
Only the truly passionate
Could understand these mad scenes in the dark!
I met RS on many a night
In the long concealing shadows of Central Park.
He was my man, but he didn’t know it.
I lived my life here in this dusty town the best I could.
I believe I left my mark in some small but universal way.
At least I knew when to say no to Roscoe Settle.
Now I’d like to go back to my grave and sleep.
I am tired of this rant about The Man Beast.
At 41 I entered here after my bout with diphtheria.
The trees here are my shadowy friends now.
But I sometimes secretly wish I could meet RS.
Just as it was in 1897,
He and I kissing in the garden Gazebo at Central Park,
His hand on the small of my back.
Me trembling with monstrous want,
My ultimate Prince.
Who lied to me like a rat!
We use five senses every day
As we work and as we play
They are useful and handy
I will list them so you see
We could never live without
What these senses are all about
Eyes can do so many things
With the looks that they can bring
Joy, passion and sensual
They can stare with sexual
Ideas that glimmer, glow and shine
Whenever your eyes meet mine
Fingers are for feeling
And they always get me reeling
Every time they brush by me
I feel alive and free
Knowing they are there to hold
Whenever my world turns cold
Noses are used for making
Smells seem so intoxicating
Like the lingering sweet scent
Every time that you invent
Mixture of candles and perfume
Filling a romantic room
Mouths and lips are used for tasting
Each day I am never wasting
Chances of a yummy kiss
Or flavors that I cant resist
Of chocolates I am gently fed
On a soft and loving bed
Ears are used for whispering
Every time I'm listening
To a voice I want to hear
I love you's so loud and clear
In a tone we understand
I'm your woman--- Your my man
There is nothing left to do
But use our senses all day through
They are like a hidden gem
Of unexpected feelings
Let me cook, iron and clean
Let me explore, let me dream
Let me kiss and comfort you
Let me do just what I do
Let me dance to the beat
Let me gently rub your feet
Let me write so you can read
Let me be all that you need
Let me walk, let me run
Let me play, let me have fun
Let me leap, let me fly
Let me gaze into the sky
Let me shine and do me
Let me be all I can be
Let me stretch, let me bend
Let me floss cause I'm a ten
Let me shop in the mall
Let me ball till I fall
Let me sit, let me stand
Let me have you as my man
Let me pray with you each night
Let me hold you oh so tight
Let me reach for the star
And accept you as you are
Let me show, let me glow
Let me love or let me go!
I CRY EVERYDAY 2
I cry everyday still...in my corner
The type that could only come from a young soul
I am a she with a boy, expecting another baby
What do I do? My man isn't a man
He is a man with no soul of a kind heart
My man is a an actor with no Director
A chameleon with a snake venom
To many
He's a meek and gentle
To the Cell members
He is a pure-hearted leader
To our friends
He's of no fault as a husband
But to me
He is a silent killer with terror up his sleeve
I die within with every seconds of my life
Life to me is nothing but miserable
There are more of those days that I wish...
That I wish I never say YES I DO at the Altar
Even before friends, families and God
God, why would you allow this weeping of mine?
As I narrate my contour sojourn to my friend
With a mirage of finding succor
And with a dream of finding an arm to lean on
I mean someone to cry out loud to...to wipe my tears
She wept for me hysterically ...
There was no stopping her tears
It was tears with no barriers
I took up the toga of wiping her own tears
Tears that are meant for my eyes and cheeks
AST
1.05am
15/04/2015 (Conjure from a true life story).
I searched for you in the Crescent Moon,Was buried in a Night ,without a
gloom.
I searched for You in early dawn,but as Sunrise touched the Sky,Sunset
drowned Her in Moon's lawn.
I searched for You ,Everywhere!Called your name ,You wouldn't hear,My Voice
whistled in the Wind,Echoes ended in a Labyrinth.
I searched and searched to reach your Hands, A tornado trapped me,in its
Whirled sands.
I heard a noise,thought it was You,Were Raindrop tears ,just missing You!
Crystal Rain pattered on roof tops,feeling Sad and Misty blue.
Searched and Searched,Yet ,Could not find You!Called and Called,Yet, could
not reach You!
Ran and Ran,just for one man,Where is my man?Men found many ,but not my
man.
And after thorns crafted my Heart,After my petals scattered apart,
My man came back to me,He came back to me!
But then again,He had to leave...to leave again,far ,far from me!
And Now i live in dreams not lived,and now i live in dreams not told,
My Night is dark,My day is cold ,and I gave Up Of His behold
Charma
Form:
~My Morning~
The moon is going to bed now, I watch it slide away
The sky a beautiful shade or orange getting ready for the new day.
The pigeons start cooing taking turns in the eaves
The dawn chorus is starting, birds waking in the trees.
Morning is here a mist hangs low, the air is feeling damp
I turn, its time to rise once more, I switch out the bedside lamp.
I return to our bed to snuggle hubby, before works calls him for the day
“Did you have a good night?” he asks knowing the answer will be “nay.”
Three cups of coffee later the first in bed with my man
It’s time to tackle the day; and get on as best one can.
To waken and see another glorious night give birth to a new day
But I would love to miss just one and sleep through one dawn is what I pray.
© ~GG~ 6/08/2012
Hey there, little Buddha,
Let me join your Mistick Krewe.
Got my jazz hand clapping.
Gonna drop the other shoe.
I strut my yo-yo yoga every doo-da day.
It get me so-so-sober in a drunken way.
Hey there, little Buddha,
Voodoo me some déjà vu.
Those saints are marching in again;
Another Bourbon Street debut.
Hey there, little Buddha,
Save me from my karma’s wrath.
Calculate my blessings;
Maybe you can do the math.
So many numb-numb-numbers,
Couldn’t feel my way.
To get me near Nirvana,
Need a CPA.
Hey there little Buddha,
Lead me down the garden path.
Those saints are here to party, boy.
This Mardi Gras make ‘em laugh.
Hey there, little Buddha,
Send your children out to play.
Pranayama mama,
Laissez les bons temps rouler.
I'll chant my man-oh-mantra
Till my eardrums ache
And clear my cha-cha chakras
With a plumber’s snake.
Hey there little Buddha,
Second line come first today.
Those saints will set your flag on fire.
Jockomo feena nay.
I hate goodbye. One more try, one more cry, one more lie…. to my self.
F-it!! Goodbye!
Ish should have been in the shelf!
So long, farewell, sayonara MotherF-Er
Mother’s. F-ing. Tired. Tried and true but now she’s through.
Ready for you to go but not ready to watch you leave. I still believe, hoping against hope, maybe this time but NOPE!!
I heard vision is 20/20 from behind and love is blind. Hmmm, I disagree, I knew in a moment, just didn’t wanna own it.
Acting like Jamie Foxx in Ray.
Broke the truth and bought the lie. I finessed me, 2nd guessed me, choosing to perceive you would become your best for “we”.
Knew it could & would never be what it should, that which I desperately longed to see.
Jumping up and down. Cheering you on. Let’s go!!! Go! Go! Go! That’s my man! I knowwww he can!!!
But you won’t because you don’t…. want to. No caption but I still get the picture. An illusion of love & happiness.
A whole f-ing mess!!!
In conclusion, we are for looks, the Book, likes & hearts…. SMDH….
Got folks thinking we showing out best parts
Hashtag #relationshiphgoals
Nahhhhh……Hashtag #Fakenews
The real story goes untold. Whew!!! This ish getting old.
I hate goodbye but I hate being fake.. had just about all I can take.
Yeaaaa but I hate goodbye… ok, ok.. One more try. For real!!
Love never fails…….not my story to tell.
Pro-longing the pain, being strong in vain. It was never right, always wrong but I knew it all along.
Put in ten to accept what I really already knew back then. Three thousand, six hundred and fifty days, five thousand ways. Eighteen hundred and 25 more before heading toward the door, no longer could I stay.
Go ahead contemplate, have in-depth debate, no matter the length of the wait or how much you anticipate….
Love ain’t no match for fate.
Seniqua Renee’ ??