Masterpiece

Masterpiece
BY: KB 4.28.16

Paint, warm hot breath
Brush, warm tender hands
Canvass, your flawless flesh

I paint what lies before me
Exploring every curve and dip
guiding my brush as a woman possessed
painting a masterpiece of love....

Mercy

Mercy
By ©kb 2005

Smooth flawless brown skin
My hand traces every line
Charting memorizing every curve
Thinking it divine.

Heaven when I look at you
Directly in your eyes
Holy word of God himself
Speaks from between your thighs

Healed from the words of love spoken
Love untold is found
Communion, sanctity and blessed assurance
Is found within your mound

I taste the living water
A drink from the cup of love
A blessed sacrament sanctioned from above

God has been truly merciful
And for this I sing his praise
I want to stay in your presence
For however long my days

My Heart

My Heart
By KB © 8/2005

My heart should not talk to my head…
Not that I should become an automaton
Operating on instinct without feeling…
but I know my heart should not talk to my head….
Because my head is a jealous girlfriend that has never known love
And will do anything to keep my heart from going there.

My heart should not talk to my head
My heart should keep secrets…..not that it has anything to hide
But my head is a lot like the Evil Sir Nose – devoid of funk,
My head never learned to swim….couldn’t comprehend the meaning of the stroke (you know what I mean)

My heart should not talk to my head
Because love defies the intellect
Intellect, like a worn down decathlete, fails to clear the two foot hurdle from the head to the heart
Causes you to fall and be disqualified

My muse

My muse
By KB 11.5.13

My muse
Does not speak with dulcet tones
My muse
Does not cause me to take flight
Instead she slaps me with moments of word and inspiration
Causing a flurry of writing and thinking
And then she leaves, slamming the door and saying
“Bitch, I’m old I ain’t stayin’ up with you rhyming and writing all night”

Mother Africa’s Shame

Mother Africa’s Shame

By: KB 2/24/05

Beautiful black skin with blond hair and blue contact tinted eyes

These are the things that make mother Africa cry.

Weep a sorrowful, soul felt cry……

Mourning children stolen in the night

Weaves, extensions, braids and locks

Toil in the sun …harvesting a painful white crop….

Today slinging a brand new slavery in the form of rocks.

Ghana, Chad, Zimbabwe, Rhodesia

Give witness to hardships, stress and toil….working to fruition a land that’s not our soil.

Whipping, castration, rape and crosses burned

Motherland offers outstretched arms, calling….crying for your return.