Her Smile

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My Brotha's Pain

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Stirred By Her Touch (Redux)

The cauldron

containing my spirit

bubbleth over

with poetic lyric

when stirred by her touch

after long separation

simply amazin’

Wicked witch still draws my lusts

out of me like a restless legion

Breathless

Fiendin’

for a sweaty encounter this evenin’

Supple skin caught in my clutch

Digits seekin’

erogenous zones

causing knees to weaken

to a soundtrack of moans

condoning

man-lip-ulation

unleashing sensations

that quell frustrations

pent up for durations

unknown

leaving cerebrum

and cerebellum blown

torso receiving

impulses of arching

and heaving

the top of my dome

alternately receiving

shoves and caresses

of lust manifested

on the physical plane

of reality

throws ebbing gradually

“Don’t touch me”

“Don’t touch me’

spoken emphatically

yet erratically

“Stop laughing at me”

as if she’s mad at me

Knowing she’ll try to get back at me

Every second feels like forever

And I can’t wait for her to dole out justice

-HymnAgen

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FEAR

FEAR

I wrestle with what comes

across as effortless to some –

with finding words

that serve me valiantly

when my inner strength succumbs to my fears,

and gallantry

is nowhere to be found

between the heart

that feeds my mind its thoughts

and the hand

that writes them down.

My fears rest upon my balance scale

opposing my will to prevail

against concerns of being judged,

criticized, and shown no love;

vilified

by my self-consciousness –

curtailing the responsiveness

of my scribing guiding limb.

Immobilized

by my fear’s wantonness.

I cannot shake this feeling

of nakedness

when I expose

my private thoughts

and my emotions

before you all within my prose.

So I hide behind a pseudonym

and embrace avatars.

Remaining aloof sharing my truth

has best abetted me thus far.

Setting free my passion.

Sparing me from my noose.

Therapy for anxieties

I have nurtured since my youth.

-HymnAgen

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Technozombies

Technology zombies

all around me alarm me.

Marching like a mindless army.

                                               

This sh!t is beyond me.

They’re plugged in around the clock

being programmed

and they can’t stop!

It’s black ops !

They are under the spell of the cell;

can’t tell what’s fake from reality.

In actuality, caught up in a virtual world –

preferring cyber sex to the flesh of a girl.

Looking at @sses

with 3-D glasses;

Rubbin’ out bio-hazards.

Nasty b@st@rds

walking down the street in a trance;

smartphone sticky from the skeet in they hand.

Watch out! Damn,

another zombie hit by a van.

Fool didn’t look –

transfixed by some tweets and a book

full of faces hadn’t thought about in ages.

Frontin on instagram pages.

This sh!t it outrageous!

We’re helping the man re-enslave us

with the tricknology that he gave us.

It modifies our behaviors

by making us tame.

Keeping us from gettin’ hip to the game

like dilly b!tches,

caught up in they tumblr pictures.

Blowing kisses in mirrors

wearing nothing but britches.

Sh!t is ridiculous!

MK Ultra: no one’s suspicious.

It’s remote mind control

changing humans to drones.

Altering our chemistry.

Fvckin’ wit our memories.

Turning friends to enemies.

Kin folk to foes,

while they’re kickin’ back counting they dough

What?

You didn’t know?

-HymnAgen

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Perfect As U R

All this non-gender-specific-ness

is ridiculous.               

How the hell did we ever get to this point?

Who took the initiative

of erasing the gender line

in trying to close the gender gap?

They’re screwing with the human mind.

How we define ourselves is under attack,

and some seem to believe that’s fine…

I believe this is by design – a fiendish

plot to divide and conquer us

by driving a wedge in between us.

We are a complementary pairing:

vagina and penis

resulting in a birth.

Between Mars and Venus,

there lies an Earth.

Betweens us is something that works,

so why try to make us the same through names?

You’re playing games with your claims

of inherent sexual bias while choosing to retain

the masculine form as the norm –

actor,

waiter,

comedian.

Sounds like hypocrisy to me.

I’m just sayin’.

I love women.

I don’t need you to be like men to see an equal,

or behave more masculine for me to treat you

with all due respect.

I don’t want to be culturally neutered,

nor have you culturally spayed.

Your femininity is priceless to me;

you should always feel free to display it

without feeling naked and objectified,

fully appreciated, as I have testified

in the past.

For when separated from you

I am just half

of my full potential.

I recognize you as being essential

to my very survival.

 

You expand my life span

through your love of your man,

and all that love encompasses –

from your nurturing to your accomplishments.

Why would I ever want you to be just like me

when you’ve been perfected through evolution

in your femininity?

-HymnAgen

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