Bated

Bated

Hovering over
anticipation
the label of "tease" 
her accusation
'though I am the one
upon hands and knees
in worship to Hathor's deity
long-savoring my fulfilled
supplications

- HymnAgen

Pain Relief

Pain Relief 

I am imprisoned by the religion 
of Black manhood...
Drowning in the stereotypes 
of masculinity... 
Choking on the pride 
I was trained to never swallow...
Repressing the expression 
of the feelings within me...
The written word has been my savior
from my fukked up paradigm...
Relief valve for all the pressure 
manhood builds inside my mind
preventing me from bursting 
in psychotic episodes,
slowly easing hurting 
with each pen stroke of my prose...

-HymnAgen

Two, Afraid

Two, Afraid

I am

a dichotomy -

a prose writer
who struggles

with honesty.

I push
and I pull
betwixt light
and dark –

tug of war
between spilling
and hiding
my heart.

My affliction
is omission.

I withhold.

Cannot relinquish
all the contents
of my

conflicted

soul.

So I mete them
like rations.

Austere
with my passions.

Frugal
with expression

as with ink.

Too concerned
with what
prospective readers
think.

‘Though
in the blink
of an eye,

thoughts
I do not supply
might have saved
a tortured soul
from the brink
of a precipice…

calling them back
from the edge
by feeling

they are not alone,

but my selfishness
won’t let them
into my dome –

allowing them
to teeter

because I’m too afraid
to allow any one
reader

to see

everything

that

I am…

a dichotomy –

a prose writer
who struggles

with honesty.

I withhold.

- HymnAgen

Sweet Tooth

My Muse

Do You Fux Wit Me?

Do You Fux Wit Me?

Do you fux wit me?

I mean, really

When ya dude ain’t around,

if you hear a hater clownin my brand,

will you stand up for me?

Be like, “Fuk dat shyt!

Yo, dat’s my man!”

‘Cause you got the luxury

In that moment

of letting your loyalty slip,

and a very good chance

It won’t ever come to light

before me

that you ain’t shyt!

Do you fux wit me?

Do you give a damn

about how I am

when you cannot

get in touch wit me,

and ain’t seen no ups

from me on the ‘Gram?

Will you DM me

askin, “What’s good?”

Better yet, will you keep it hood

and cuss me out

for staying off of your radar too long

and tell me I’m wrong?

If you fux with me,

it can’t be sometimes

when you find it’s convenient,

or just the fun times.

When shyt gets thick

I need to know that you got me,

that you ain’t gonna flip flop

then drop me.

Could you live with that?

Is you built like that?

A shell with no frame

and a dishonorable name?

Friendship ain’t no game

in my world.

Whether my niccas

or if you my girl,

I need to know…

Do you fux wit me?

-HymnAgen

Encyclopedia of You

Encyclopedia of You

You.
You trusted me.
You placed your heart within my hands.
I didn't know what you had given me with this key.
I only used it to unlock your surface.
I did not recognize its greater purpose.
But I've learned.
This time I see
there is more
than your surface to explore.
You granted access to your core
behind a hidden door.
Your hidden repository.
And 'though you won't
lay your volumes
open before me to read,
you've shown me they exist.
You claim I have read more
than any other before,
yet I don't recall turning those pages.
I always felt denied.
Entrusted to carry
but not trusted enough to look inside.
I've only wanted to read you aloud
so you might hear your own beauty
come through me.
That you might see you as I do
an truly understand
if I love your cliff notes,
how much more
would I love to have your books
within my hands?

-HymnAgen

Playing Hand

Playing Hand

I can feel

your carotid

quicken…

Pushing away

at my lips

and my tongue… 

Struggling.

Struggling

not to succumb

too soon

to orchestral movements

I strum

on your strings.

I will play

until you need

to sing…

‘Til you writhe

like you’re Salome

before her King…

Dancing…

Gasping…

Panting…

Collapsing…

Planting

your lips

upon mine…

-HymnAgen

Relapse

The Great Pretender

Through your peripheral did you notice

my struggles maintaining focus

on any distraction I could find

when your attention was not mine?

See I could watch you in them jeans

move to The Blues swaying that thang

to those bass grooves and guitar twangs           

like you were food feeding my soul…

Yet, I tried to mask the loss of my control

over my feelings

and hide my stolen glances at your thighs.

Was I caught stealing?

I’m sure the other matrons

have suspicions; I can’t give them

confirmation

like that somehow makes a difference.

Still, I played my position

while I harbored wayward thoughts.

Yes, discretion was my mission

yet, I wonder if you caught

me wanting you like I was 21 again.

I can’t act grown with you around

So I pretend as if I am…

-HymnAgen

“…Too real is this feeling of make believe.
Too real when I feel what my heart can't conceal         
Ooh Ooh yes, I'm the great pretender.”

- The Platters