Tag Archives: ecstasy

I hope she cheats on you!

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I hope she cheats on you
I hope she locks eyes with him like a sniper rifle in a night sandstorm
Exchanging heat seeking glances that makes her skin dance the nut cracker
As her sugar walls melt into liquid caramel at the scent of a hawk circling
And her hips start gurgling the flow of his fitted polo neck that drapes his 2 litre turbo engine
Swaying like the hands of time on his watch and you ain’t even clocked him
I hope she works the room at her convenience store of lust
Serving tantalising tremors with each touch and his eyes light up the earth
As she crosses Jordan to Canaan as you the Abel want to turn to Cain now cos
Your sugar’s ready to be felt cos she feels her strawberry fields deserrve better
I hope she makes out he’s a friend but the sweat drips slowly as she wraps her arms around his neck
Inviting him to the party you’re supposed to attend and bends over so he can comprehend Boadicea’s bountiful bosom
I hope their lips perform the duet their minds wrote across the room and encore on repeat
Scratching your record of being a smooth criminal like Grandmaster Flash was on the decks
Every peck on her neck causes her eyes to inflect ecstasy that you took for granted
I hope you’re there standing with a high definition view wondering if this moment is defining you
The sore us, is the meaning of pride raw uncut before you
I hope your heart feels like a serrated edge is passing along every nerve as you
Stand there thinking she’s your life, your girl, she’s your wife, your girl
You’re the lord of the rings and he’s just Smiegel,
You’re the one supposedly fighting evil, I hope you see her leaving
Hand in hand with the king before she crowns him and you’re drowning in rapid rivers of despair
I hope you arrive home just to hear what you didn’t want to
I hope you listen to every giggle, every last word he tells her
How she’s beautiful, best he’s ever had, never wants to leave her
Wants more of the night they just had
I hope you’re there in the morning to hear it all again
Raucous till they collapses happy like (the record company) Rawkus feeling fortunate to the rafters
See the glisten pouring from her forehead and ripples of laughter
Hangs on every word like a pendant on an indie chick
I hope he makes you sick and want to commit acts you’d never think to commit
As she cooks him breakfast like it was the first day of a beautiful life sentence
Replaces your plans with his in a second because his word is a bond with license to protect hers
Trims the bets your hedging that you’ll be the one to lecture her
See the man she’ll be dating will be that light with a vengeance
See the man she’s making hay with, is your reflection
I said I hope she cheats on you
To bring you to repentance

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Filed under Random Poetics

Diary

7 December 2009

He cut a disconsolate figure, proud black felt like a silhouette,

He’d once stood like a minaret, dressed minds like vinaigrette, yet he got tossed like salad and got smoked like a cigarette

Everybody called him Nicorette, his hope came and stayed in patches

He never lost his fire to inspire, in spite of job matches that didn’t see him as a catch

His

Mind never dropped the ball

Head was a whirlpool of hard falls, and big walls

Glass ceilings and doors, familial wars and sores from the pores opened up through feelings of being poor.

December 8, 2009

Felt like every time he tried to work the magic his electricity attracted energies that made him static not ecstatic

He wanted to be ex static using his laboured fruits to gain current, stay current, never need to be a feign lover, always a main lover, man you had love for

Big Brother, future husband, the brightened son that eclipsed the moon and made her beautiful

Inside he stayed truthful like the ocean knowing she will never be a dry mass

He took another class to be class, never cut class as while steadily defining his shape

He was blooming late photosynthesis took place at sunset,

The power of his flower was not enough he needed a run & gun threat

Less heart more head, of logic he was the balanced vet in the game

Politics was a sweet science like boxing yet he fought at range

His jabs hit veins but rarely drew blood,

He was an artist that couldn’t always harness his true love

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Filed under Just Living