Tag Archives: sex

Molehills and Mountains

truthSome truths are holier than an indian rape festival

Some truths are arresting but their freedom you can rest in

Some truths are homely when they don’t try to redecorate

Some truths are seedlings that sap you of your better state

I wish these truths were feather weight and would lift before I sign that paper

Wait

I want…

Truths that wrap round my hands like tape before a fight

Truths that change bulbs,

Truths that win matches

Truths that broken into meteoric starlight are my cookie that crumbles

Truths that are more beautiful than a Titanic Kate Winslet

Truths that are more than an engagement ring and make you alter

Truths that don’t slide around

Truths you can fall for, get up with and fall in love with again and again

Truths that make good friends

Truths that don’t break you to see if you can bend

Truths that don’t hide in drawers like old photos

Truths that in need, you can go to

Truths that get more agreement than Kyoto

Truths that make the magna carta look like a pinky promise

Truths with more meat than a 20 stone double J in a bodice

Truths with more between the eyes than a pair of nostrils

Truths in lossless formats that will never get played

Truths that are more than a night boo debut.

Truths that might silence you but wont shoot you down with a silencer

See these Home truths I keep dying for

Truth lives outside the law

Truth is the secret in the bible section

Truth is the power of inception that rewires a lie detector

Truth is my reflection when I choose to accept it and until then

Truth is an orphan

Truth can dance with you or around you.

Truth is not a tradition

If truth was religious it would be narcissus

I want truth that keeps you in check like King Midas face to face with Medusa

Truth whose screams in eternity ring and are happily answered too

Maybe that kind of truth isn’t you

See maybe truth is convenient, may be it’s seasonal

Maybe it’s roots ,branches and leaves that are watered by wars

Maybe we need lies to appease us until we find the peace that is us

A peace that pleases us in all pores and makes us richer

Maybe truth is greedy, maybe truth is grievous

Maybe to be truth is to find that we need to be us,

To be us, we need to see us

So maybe what we need is, not peace but reflection

A reflection that yields acceptance for its perfect imperfections

A voice that sets the tone with multiple inflections.

If truth is knowledge accepted and we render rejection can truth be changed at all?

If truth is changeable is this the deposition before urination?

Revolving doors wont get to seven when you’re in eight

So maybe this is the position before you’re in a shine

Giving evidence, overthrowing negatives

The truth is the truth is the picture, it’s us that aren’t getting it

The truth is that truth is an industry worth investing in.

I heard that truth is sexier than Norah Jones in silky pyjamas on a Q-Tip record

But….

Ttruth has a cost and as words are expensive….

What are yours worth?

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Filed under Just Living

Love Letters from the Hood Vol 6.

Our passion burns so much I call hours with you green days
Prepare for the haze
Let me lay you on the green baize
Haunches raised on my axis
Fax this fact that
I’m lost in your amaze
This ain’t the Hyphy craze
You got walls by I’m here to roof raise
Here to stay like rap
I lean back turn the tap
Got your tongue running call it a doggie lap
Spinning your records of the last rhyme
The way I queue balls in your pool hall
Ready to shoot the white ball
Turn your house into white hall
Give you that night crawler water
I’m dripping
From Capitol Hill
Killing your bill of rights with my first finger amendment
Have you stammering my name in Latin
Calling me Addendum
Ad nauseam
Imploring your pores to applause
Baby I can take your flaws
See I turn your floors into a stage as I give you the mic
This is solar powered loving the way I twist you over night
This is Classic
Let me play your with your back track
Flip you on the A side call it the return of the boom bap
Greet me with Aloe Blacc
Wu me with your movie scores
See my seed has a stem sell
Clause
You can labour for my metaphors
Knowing you’ve never met a force so consuming
Unassuming of race I ate the course
Digested good loving,
Good rubbing you know that you got that
Tease your beaver
Give you anaphylactic shocks with my nut sack
I aim to please you
This is a love letter right now we’ve got the lust back
See I like it
The way you writhe when I attend to your tender tendons
You render my slice of heaven a 3D melodic emblem
Los Angeles in sky only know which note you’re going to end on
But I don’t want to just eat lunch
Give me Hades in HD
Fluid motion don’t re cycle
Like a Buddhists first read of the bible I’lll find the difference inside you
This is love
Succour me with lips as I reverence your hips
Knowing your dynamite’s more than enough for my cue tip
This ride’s a born quest
You run the rule on my frame
Size up my coffee shot
Now can you handle my name?

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Filed under Collaborations

Love Letters from the Hood vol 4.

I school you like black folk being shown the boondocks
Every time I tick your boom box
My second hand ruins clocks
With cold play the room the rocks
My motion is curt so I sniff Cobaine
Get you high and ready for my purple reign
In principle I’m weather vain
So blow me like the winds of indoctrination
See I lay you then lay claim to you
You are my patent
You’re micro soft to my bad apple
Peach queen,
Your juices energise my saddle
Reducing Ginuwine’s first line to babble
Said I’m not bachelor and
Your bad ass is making this soft boy harder
The way you rub so incisively
Decisively,
You thrilling me killin’ me
Said I’m so anxious
I’m trippin’
I’m stumbling
My lips are fumbling like a nervous young bomber
Mama, Mama, Mama
Martyr this moment
This is just a second row hit,
Don’t come till we hit the back of the line
You’re a serial killer with your tongue tied
Around my hung rhyme
My epic piece
Not written with a biro in hieroglyphics
I got a fountain pen
Recognise the thesis,
Acknowledge me like Romulus and Remus
And
When
You…
Respect the architect, like Guru and his nuances
I’ll show you,
You already knew what the blue print is
Yeah I got reasonable doubt like Hova did
I ain’t mad atcha cos I’m fallin just the same
Caressing those white cliffs of dover
I don’t want this to be a once hung
Over
Like Suge Knight trying to sign Vanilla ice
I need more than 20 stories
36 chambers
Most definitely
I want us to be the new danger
See a quiet dog may bite hard
But a real man guards the keys to a heart
Will you fight for this love
Or just watch the throne
I don’t want to be alone
Princess…

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Filed under Collaborations

Love Letters From The Hood Volume 2

Listen to Poetic7: Love Letters from the Hood vol 2. here

You are the last thought
The sweetest bitter taste on my lips
You permeate the saltiness of our….situation
I’m patient
Nursing my ego just to feed yours
You are what I’m all for
But when you’re on, all four
As two tapes spliced into one jam
We go H.A.M
Myrrh and tongues
Wrap our every right
To be or not to be
Exclusivity
Agreement with individual clauses
Think you got me in your claws?
Treating me like Claus
Girl you need prayer
Heck I aint Santa and you are no saint
But yeah….you love me

In spite of a caught case
The road less travelled post haste
I love that you lay waste to my
Waste man tendencies like you’re
Weaning me off my narcotic dependency
Replacing me with us

Let’s not make a fuss babe
I only put my hands on you cos you say you’re a bad girl
Step to my photo shop and I touch you up for real
Broadcast my zeal
Let the world know how I feel because you say your bad ass
A boss chick
I put you in the ring to see if you’re worth the ring
Ding!
We click like a terrorist with a pace maker
Every time we make love
We meet our maker to Nina Simone and Tracy Baker
See I’m a soldier of love
Always thinking about the frontline.
You’re the fit for my glove
Worth every punch line
You’re made up to make up when we break up
Cos yeah I love you

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Filed under Collaborations

Rosa King

I wanna know if our 2 plus 2 = foreplay
Or if finger licking will produce enough sauce to have me your way
If I squeeze s cream will it be raw gain
Get me loaded, locked for my pure aim
Will we strike chromo semantics spores, leave our flaw stained
How many time will I score in your lane
Will it change what you shout from my name to Your Dame
Knees bent like you’re praying, knowing I am Lord of the manner
Can I
Let our 2 plus 2 turn into 3 plus one
See 2 plus 1 = the words you plus gone
So I wanna know before I wear Trojan John
If we can see if 3 into one goes across your divide
I wanna start back at 4 if that’s alright
You choose the figure, when to multiply
When to linger
Your hands turn me into a singer
Where mine are tinged with lavender and hot lemon cinders
Creeping up your spine like a running vine without resistance
You call this a draft,
I call it listless the way I slowly strum your plum strings
The pick up is an early warning sign that rings and ring and rings
I am wedded too your chime
Doing calculus to the sounds of algebra for moment I play in your drumline
You are my snare
Your Berlin is the space for our fan fare
I could spit poetry and go where snakes dare,
I could sing floetry and roll tongues where fakes care
Instead I listen and know an end to the wait is near
I wanna quit playing and see if our instruments will take us there
Yet I’m the one delaying to know your worth it

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Filed under Relationships