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Sherronda Brown Poem
Words
Flowing from your full sensuous lips
Cascading and spilling out
Over your chocolate flesh
As your voice reaches my ear
My body tenses up and then relaxes
Tingling with anxiety
I wish that I could do more
Than just hear your voice
But I love listening to you speak
In my ear, your words roll around and around
Sticking inside my head
Lingering in my soul
Your words satisfy my hunger
In a way I never knew words could
Hypnotic in their profession
They leak down into the pits of my soul
I get trapped up in them
And let them swallow me entirely
As they flow in their seductive melody
My mind can’t suppress the urges surging through my body
Your words inhibit me from being able to govern my own essence
Your words are dominate now
This temple has become yours
And I will submit whole heartedly to whatever your words may suggest
I just want to stay here
Engulfed in this flame
This blaze that results from the electric heat of your words
They’ve conquered me in their mystic sway
Leaving me perplexed and baffled, with a divine sensation trailing behind
I wish this bliss was eternal
But in the back of my mind I know
That this kind of feeling can only be temporary, and I hate it
I despise the inescapable fact that your voice will, one day, fade away
And dissipate into an excluded nothing
A hollow abyss
Leaving me with only the bittersweet memories
Of the enchantment of your voice
Only to reminisce over the intoxication of your words
Copyright © Sherronda Brown | Year Posted 2006
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Sherronda Brown Poem
I almost forget to breathe, looking into his eyes
Soft and brown, I get lost in them
“You’re so beautiful,” he says to me.
I’ve always fantasized about meeting that special person who loves me dearly
and let’s me love him in return. That someone who isn’t afraid of love or being
loved, and let’s me get over my fear of love and being loved.
He’s beautiful, inside and out. God, even his soul is beautiful!
And I swear, I love him more and more everyday. Sometimes, I think to myself, I
couldn’t possibly love him more than I do this very second, and the next minute
he proves me wrong. And I’m glad he does. I’m happy being able to love him.
Happy that he lets me.
I know that I can never find any one even remotely close to him in this lifetime, or
the next. And I used wonder. How did I get so blessed? To be able to love him,
and have him love me in return. This opinionated, sophisticated, strong black
being. This down to earth version of an angel. How did this beautiful person
come to love me?
Even though there are so many others who are more desirable than I, he still
chooses to sit here and look into my eyes instead of any one of theirs. He could
steal any one their hearts and lock it away, but he opts to hold mine in his tender
palm, being careful not to break it.
He would rather rest his hands on my waist, squeeze my side, and hold me tight,
than to wrap his arms around anyone else’s.
Instead of taking his pick of their sensuous lips, he presses his full, warm lips
against my own, and any where else he pleases.
And I didn’t understand why.
So I asked, “Why do you love me?”
He looked at me as if I was suppose to already know. As if it was staring me in
the face, but he answered me any way.
“Because of your beauty, and not just your physical beauty like your sexy eyes,
and soft lips, and those delicious hips, but because of your mind, and the way
you let me stimulate it. Because of your heart, and the way you let me keep it. I
love the way your soul speaks to mine. I love you because you let me love you,
and that makes you what you are.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
He smiled and said, “Beautiful.”
Copyright © Sherronda Brown | Year Posted 2006
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Details |
Sherronda Brown Poem
Music is a free individual
Free to be wild or tame
Music is unique and original
Music is the force that has gotten deep inside my soul
The force that has manipulated my mind
And convinced me to fall love with it
And become hopelessly devoted to it
Music is exciting and enchanting
Wonderful and wise
Charming and charismatic
Romantic and real
Sexy and sophisticated
Music is my passion
And the love of my life
Music has a raw sense of adventure
And wants to be played with teased
Music just wants to be acknowledged
Music doesn’t care who I am
Or what I wear
Music doesn’t have any expectations,
Requirements,
Or prerequisites
Music doesn’t mind whether I’m big, small, loud, or quiet
Music is color blind
And disregards any beauty or ugliness
Music won’t care my sensitivity and awkwardness
Music is not phased by spontaneity or romance
Music is neither impressed nor disgusted
Music just wants me as I am, flaws and all
All that matters to Music
Is the moment in suspended time that I spend with it
Copyright © Sherronda Brown | Year Posted 2006
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