i’ll tell you what i won't do

i won't cook for you

because you’ll expect a home cooked meal every night thereafter

and that’s what lovers do

i'll tell you what i won't do

i won't lie to you

because lies keep the spark alive

and that’s what lovers use

fuel to feud

fights that heighten desires

enlighten me with your engagements

but don't misfire

i tell you what i won't do

i won't blush at your jokes

because you’ll expect me to finish with flirtatious gaze

and that's what lovers do

instead i'll laugh gayly, be amazed

i tell you what i won't do

catch you if you fall for me

you stall in heat, i’ll fall asleep

bored of watching you struggle to say “i love you”

you chose to

now make another choice

you know that voice in your head that said

“tell him how you feel, be honest. keep it real.”

it wasn't mine, now you've wasted our time

including me in your psychosis

this is the most bogus—

you've tainted our vibe, our friendship, our amity

why didn't you mention / was it your intention

to have my dignity dilapidated in this calamity?

listen

i’ll tell you what i won't do

i won't take this personal

because taking things personal is intended for romance

don't dance around the idea that i'm playing hard to get

i ain’t playin’ shit

so just so we're clear i'm no lover to you

whom however

i will say it’s ironic that now that we’re platonic

you wanna up say you want me

haunting me after ego death

i’ll tell you what i won't do

i won't give you the satisfaction of a reaction

i won't validate your feelings

i won't allow for any healing

i refuse any and all access to my heart

just play your part

and shut the fuck up

DDebating hip-hop culture down 5th Avenue

You slide behind me, fingers pitter-pattering

I abide by thee

What was that? Why was that?

A moment accounted for but not understood

Repositioned, a new condition

Out of place and disoriented

Instinctively, I chose the outermost position

Standing nearest traffic by way of chivalry

Shriveled be my gesture, my manhood

My dominance in this moment

Relinquished, banished, eclipsed by your gesture

Should I stand in the street to prove my politesse?

Or adore you and simply acquiesce?

My train of thought lost

The indentations of your finger tips just now restoring

The initiation of hypotheticals decide to start forming

What was that? Why was that?

I didn’t overtly question it

Because it felt nice to be tended to for a change

A 50/50 interrelation

“I don’t have it all but I have enough for you”

“I appreciate you and that’s something I wanna prove”

I didn’t overtly question it

Because the small of my back needed devotion

Distorted schemas on what I can and can’t do

My manhood is safe to experience fluidity with you

It’s scary on outermost position of the sidewalk

I didn’t overtly question it

Because I really just wanted to get back to the hip-hop

escription text goes here

Black Boy Turned Blue

Darkness surrounds us

Your dark skin undergoes metamorphosis

For most, transformation takes time

For you, you are born anew within seconds

From black to blue in the sliver of moonlight

Beauty nonetheless the same

Delicate yet arrogant

All features, and textures

All scars, and imperfections

Perfect

Divinely attractive

Prosperity arrives in my heart in your presence

We discuss briefly how nobody can be perfect

However all the while

My mind is confined by your perfection

We deliberate on how good things can be

But Black Boy Turned Blue

You are much better than good things

You are much finer than attractive things

Intrinsically inclining my serotonin

How do you know exactly what to do?

Has your transfiguration taught you this?

Black Boy Turned Blue

Your existence is a gift unbeknownst to others

All features, and textures

All scars, and imperfections

Well crafted

Extremely well crafted

Black Boy Turned Blue

In this moonlit setting, you are perfect

Self love is strange

A lifetime’s worth of progress

Can vanish within seconds of a facile thought

Self Damnation is strange too

A mental reminiscent instant

Unanticipated regression

I don’t hate myself

I dislike the hurtful thoughts my mind creates

Your mind can in fact be the scariest place you’ll visit

But you mustn’t fall victim to it

Remember, Self Love is strange

Self Love is

Self Love

Whatever that means

Self Damnation

Self Damnation is

Remember, Self Damnation is strange too

This is the part where I say I’m fine

I put your minds at ease

Cease the queasiness you feel for me

Where’s my queasiness?

Shouldn’t I be the one with the ailments & afflictions?

My mind in a quandary, a state of uncertainty

But I don’t say I’m fine

I don’t respond to your concerned looks

I don’t say that I’m fine

It’s just a feeling

It will pass when the the moon sinks into the horizon

And the sun is birthed by that same horizon

Cycling

It’s just a feeling

Or a collection of feelings rather

Self Love is strange

Self Damnation is strange too

Frustration, self pity, ill will

But it’s just a feeling

It will pass

Exhaustion overwhelms me

Filtering out and in

In and out

Shifting between stimulated and bone tired

I weld together happy but tired tears

Smiling because of the euphoria I’ve obtained

But at what cost?

Why is being content so draining?

Is my jubilee not justifiable?

Will I regress from my high when I’m out of tax dollars?

No continued feeling without legitimate profits?

Lacking energy to enjoy the enjoyment of life, enjoyably

I smile again, more energy deducted

The smile continues, fading nevermore

Fascinatingly

The more I smile the more rejuvenated I feel

Unexpectedly, the more my mind dwells on those I love

The greater my sensibility becomes

I was tired but now I am full again

Plentiful, abundance in my heart, mind, eyes, skin, soul

How long will I last?

How long will it last?

I’m not quite sure

But I do know it will be one hell of a ride

Hell being an understatement

I graciously weld tears as gratitude for my renewal

Accepting my vigor like flies bordering honey

Thank You, Thank You

Itchy grass surrounding you

Mistaking airplane lights for stars, you gaze

The moonlight showering you

I stare at you, wondering, contemplating

Your beauty amazes me

I cry tears of thankfulness, for knowing you

You caught one roll down my face, questioning it

I simply say it came from a silent yawn you didn’t see

I massage my fingers on your scalp

As you always let me do

Maneuvering through curls, thumbing your neck

Fumbling in my head about how to tell you how I feel

You know I love you, but you never experienced me saying it

I continue to stare at you surreptitiously

Your eyes focus on the mesmerizing sky

My mesmerizing sky indulging in a smile

A smile, a few bats of the eye

A moan

Your focus on me now

I smile, at the success of my delicate hand maneuvers

Climatic sensation from rubbing your head

Words escape me, tears evade me

Fear parading

Dancing, laughing knowing I don’t have the guts

I fear indulging in a chef d'œuvre like you

I relied a sigh of hope

Hoping, hopeful, hopeless

My hope goes with the sigh

As I

Open my eyes

To see a handful of grass

No nappy curls, no flawless brownskin, no simple smile

My vivid phantasmagoria fading

Chef d'œuvre, Chef d'œuvre, I call to you

Breathing becomes a chore

Sitting up I wonder, contemplate again

You never heard me say I love you

So I say it now, in light of your absence

While you reach home and we remain friends

While crying tears of boundless suffering

As you poison me with a toxic concoction

Of incompetence, lack of respect for me

I speak the words fervently to you

My Chef d'œuvre, I love you

Mama does all the heavy lifting

Blessed if Daddy even in ya life

Outdoors is like your best friend

But your limit on ins and outs dwindles down before

Mama say “you’re done for day”

Risked your playtime for a cool cup of tap water

Going in stores like the three wise monkeys

Hearing led to seeing, seeing led to touching

Lips firm and tight, you knew not to touch

Don’t got no McDonalds money, but ya got arms folded

Thoughts in disarray, imaginative figures on display

Night scans the horizon

Slow car ride home, your head tilts side to side

Squinting your eyes, fascinated by blurry streetlights Dancing, sashaying

You’re home

Dinner ran late if you hadn’t finished everything

No wasted food in a black low income house

Shit, no wasted food in a black house period

Saturday mornings

Gospel and R&B are your alarm clocks

Picking up a broom before a toothbrush

A rag before a face towel

All the hot water for cleaning led to cold showers

Deep in your chores while Luther V sings to your Ma

Mama say get a brush to that head at least twelve times a day

Tears trickling down ya sister’s face

Comb picking a fight with her thick, tangled hair

Nappy “obviously” comes from ya daddy’s side

Sunday morning

Trying on too many outfits that you’re running late

Mama didn’t hear God say come as you are

Always getting skipped when they pass out programs

Grandma giving you hers to draw on

Sun in the corner, grass cut low

Stick figures bold and black and statuesque

Statuesque like older cousins at the family function

Drunk uncles, aunties with too many kisses

Too many stories of who changed your diapers

Racking ya brain for names to match unfamiliar faces

Generous donations that mama stashed in her purse

Never to be seen again

Growing up as a human chameleon

Browning so effortlessly in the summer sun

Riding bikes down the street with cousins you had

No blood relation to

Dirty finger nails from making cakes and pies

Tore up shoes that would lead to your demise

Tore up behinds for tearing up those shoes

Mama wasn’t rich, but she made a way

Chasing down ice cream trucks with three bucks

Sucks, when the one thing you like to order is three fifty

Black Childhood is like a pack of fruit snacks

Black Childhood is like praying to God that Mama Forgot about that promised whopping

Black Childhood is like making it home just before the Streetlights

Being a Black Kid ain’t easy, but it can be worthwhile

Black Kids get something special out of life

What does it Means to be a Black Kid?

I guess you just had to be there to know

Where do babies learn that from?

Where do they learn how cry?

Knowing that when things go awry

It’s ok for them to release until they’ve run dry

Where do children learn that from?

When they’re feeling what they’re feeling

It’s almost surreal, but they can’t describe it

So they kiss

Little ones stealing “firsts” from another

Indulging in something not meant so young

Purity is still there undoubtedly, but not in the eye of society

Where do women learn that from?

They’ve got to be tougher than any man internally

The strength they encompass has zero tolerance for ignorance’s touch

The power they exude could effortlessly beat a man at his own game if God let it be so

But more importantly, where did man learn this from?

To be greedy and yet unappreciative?

To steal and blame all but himself for what he has caused?

If man is not able to change his ways

Then man will be the exact cause of his own destruction

Teach your sons how to love and treat those who love him the hardest

How to fulfill duties without feeling like they are ensured reparations

Where did you learn that from?

That you gotta get shit all the time?

Probably your father

Let the lesson be the reward

Because this world nor God herself owes you shit

Poetry poetry say that shit

Roll with me

Keeps me sane in the brain

Loosen those chains that are in the way

Restricting me from being my best self

But not for long

Because I’m gonna live for me

Let my success be measured by wealth

Wealth meaning happiness

Riches from the joy I bring to the table

A table full of people like me

Looking like me

Brown and dark and dark and brown

Free and sexual/sexual and free

Free to be a brown man or woman comfortable with their sexuality

But with comfortability, comes narrow minded losers

They try to fuck up your aura

But you don’t let them/As you shouldn’t

But what you should do is love you

Love yourself first love yourself second

I lost my train of thought while writing this

But I mean hey never said I was a perfect lyricist

Moral of the story: there isn’t one

Mainly because I’ve just begun/begun began beginning and end

I love this poetry shit gonna make it a trend