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Best Poems Written by Malik Nottage

Below are the all-time best Malik Nottage poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Malik Nottage Poem

Like It Was Our Last

Even when we grow old 
hair the color of tombstones 
and bones that sound like 
wet windshield wipers as
we slow dance across the living room 
i will still make love to you. 
Like it is our last night on this 
earth. 
when our love fills the air like
blunt smoke from the joints 
we rolled our first night 
And that night we didn't just 
make love, we made life. 
life wasn't too much worth living 
until i peered into the the eyes 
of my first born child
and i thought wow. 
i will add this to the list of
things in this world i find 
most beautiful:
my mother's smile, the eyes of our 
child, you on our wedding night.
and that night was glorious
so we danced... like it was our last 
lasting as long as the music before 
it dies but our love never will. 
so when we grow old, hair the 
color of tombstones, bones 
that sound like wet windshield 
wipers whenever we slow dance 
across the living room, i will 
still love you like it is our 
last night on this earth and 
when our millions of children 
roam the earth, when the dust from
our bones are gone 
and our names forgotten, 
Ill be glad knowing it was our last.

Details | Malik Nottage Poem

Prelude To Beauty

Had you not inspired such
a  flame deep and bellowing 
in the cavity of my chest 
where my heart used to be 
i'd be not but a shell 
A beautiful, soulless
corpse condemned to walk 
this earth for an eternity 
ready to deafen and destroy
with eternal noise 
that signifies nothing 
i can only add my desire 
of forever being yours 
make me as happy 
as i can be. 
Only then can I be saved
from damnation and my 
soul set free.  
Looking at you there from 
above the clouds, 
my under oxygenated hands
turn pale blue, 
never has anything in
all of history looked 
more beautiful than you 
do in this moment.  
for your smile is so breathtaking 
You would wonder why anyone 
ever lived in the first place 
Inert with heavy slumber, i 
wondered if i was ever awake 
at all. was it a dream i loved?

Details | Malik Nottage Poem

My Five Senses

I love to watch the sun rise,
the way its tangerine colored
rays pierce the
metallic grey sky and
how they dance playfully on
the waters edge. As its face peers
Out from its hiding spot
It reminds me of everything
Beautiful I’ve ever known, like
My mother’s smile, infants
Being born, like fresh ink
On a piece of paper.
Words have not been invented yet
To describe the sight of
Sunrise.

One has not truly lived
Until having heard the
sound of violins
Something so sweet and
Seductive has no
Business being compared
To anything less beautiful
If all the emotions in the
World were an instrument
It would be a violin
Nothing graces my eardrums
And the atmosphere
Like the peaceful, poetic whisper
Of a violin

I love the smell of love in
The morning. I didn’t know love
Had a smell but then again
Who really knows what love is
What it looks like
Sounds like
Smells like
Tastes like or feels like.
Love smells like when
We make love, it’s like a Picasso
Being made, I can smell the
Fresh paint on the canvas
It’s literally poetry in motion
Her breath is endless as her spoken word
Coerces me to do things I know
I want to.
Her scent is so intoxicating
And from that day forth my nostrils
Could no longer recognize anything
Else.

If nothing else is heaven-sent it
will always be the taste of chocolate
It’s decadence needs no
Compliment. The taste reminds
Me of every women Ive ever loved
Good and bad for me at
The same time. The moment
My tongue became acquainted
With this piece of heaven
It’s like it became me
It didn’t melt in my mouth it transformed
Into the shape of it and has never
Left since

The best feeling in the world
Is the feeling of bare skin
Against the bed sheets the morning
After we made love. 
And we made love like the world
was ending so we hold
one another
Like we died in each other’s
Arms the night before
And nothing else mattered
but this feeling
In this moment in time
And I never wanted to leave
So I stayed there kissing your
Forehead, you taking my
Hand in yours as if it were
The last thing you’d ever touch
Even when our bones become
Playthings of the wind
I hope that a museum will
Keep a fossil of our figure
So that others may enjoy this
Moment in time forever.

Details | Malik Nottage Poem

Excuses

Excuses
I’ve never made love before
But sex is no stranger to me.
It is no stranger than my
Own two hands are to each
Other. Each has a warm
Twin that fits perfectly like
The pieces of a puzzle,
So no I am no stranger to slow
Dances and love songs
red wine and candlesticks
Moonlit love poems
And the morning after when
My lips cuddle your forehead
As if we died in each others
Arms 12 hours prior.

Most would say
That’s the epitome of love
But love has no true face it hides
Behind disgraceful lies and hides
In the scent of your wine and
Hides in the joy of having a
Good time for a one time only
One night stand and most nights
I stand alone so no, I am no stranger
To sharing half a bed with a stranger
But love and I have yet to be
Introduced. It is still so unfamiliar
To me but I know what it
pretends to be.

It pretends to see me for who
I am
Not what I appear to be
Pretends to feed me and nourish
Me with lies
So excuse me if I’m fed up
Excuse me if I’m full of
Regret because love
Is full of you know what
Excuse me if I’m tired of writing
Long handed love letters that
End up going nowhere as fast
As they began. And excuse me
If I’m sick and tired of excuses.

There is no excuse why I still
Haven’t found the meaning
Of love
There is no excuse why I search
For it daily in the arms of
Every stranger I come across
But for once, just once, a
Good excuse would be nice.

Details | Malik Nottage Poem

Dream Girl

Dream Girl
She comes to me by night
As dreams
In the day as memories
She haunts my hours
every where I go, everywhere
I see her.
I remember the way speech
Trembled adorably off her
lips
The way her heart was a
Bottomless pit because
Her love was everlasting
And her eyes
Her eyes were so deep baby blue
That you'd be afraid to stare
Because you might get lost and
Never come out. As deep as the
Ocean. As deep as the drowning
Sensation of her love.
And her smile
Her smile of gold would make
The richest men envious.
Could make the sun go blind
Would make the sun be afraid
To shine.
So much that it would
Refuse to show its face. Her beauty shines through my clothes, my skin
My soul, my sins God, I hope this dream and this poem never ends talking about a girl that I could never get.
She teaches stars to be bright.
She teaches me how to fight
She is why I write, why I stay up at night
Why I can't go to sleep because
I'm too busy chasing her, my dreams.
I can't eat, sleep or breathe. Nor can I believe that this is only a dream.

Details | Malik Nottage Poem

The Red Umbrella

So much depends on a red umbrella
the metallic grey skies 
that open up and cry so they 
become waterfalls. 
Your feet stay dry, yet you notice
the the streets turn to streams, 
but you stay safe under your 
little piece of refuge... 

So much depends on 
the tiny wishing well-like
puddles forming on the sidewalk
transforming into pools

Everything becomes the color of
sadness, sky moans and groans.
sounds like a stomach ache 
maybe something he ate 
I hate the rain, but none of that
matters because of this tiny 
umbrella 

So much of me depends on this 
small, blush-colored of a 
thing that provides an
intangible feeling of warmth and
protection

So much depends on a red umbrella.

Details | Malik Nottage Poem

Verse On Love

Love is like poetry,
It’s mysterious and beautiful 
And you never know 
Whats going on in the 
Piece unless you are 
The author. 
Unless you’re the one 
In love 
Crystal-eyed and young
Unless you’re the one
That hears trumpets 
And symphonies every time 
She walks through the
 Front door 
And whenever she talks about 
Her day, you’re more 
Interested then she is
And before you go to bed 
After you’ve written her 
A soppy long-handed love letter 
About how you couldn’t
Fathom imagining a world 
Without her, you ask to hear 
About her day one more time. 
Then you fall asleep to the 
Sound of her breath. 
Love is poetry. It’s full of 
Metaphors and misunderstandings 
And long-handed love letters
But you listen to it anyway 
Because it sounds nice.