On My Poetry Grizzlie

This happens to be a post I had on a great poetry website (if ANY of you cats out there are interested, of course), The Black Poetry Cafe. A quick shout out to everybody I met on there, all the inspiration that a brother gained while trading stanzas with you was and STILL is amazing... Now, what I'm posting is from a little excercise that was posted to test the poets creative limits. This piece came from a list of sentences that had absolutely nothing to do with one another, that we had to "create something magical" with... Enjoy:


Damn this foolish pride of mine...

Thru gucci frames her eyes sparkled,
A vision of beauty watchin' me take purple rain stained steps closer...
We met thru Elmo @ my homeboy's crib, he's Grover,
2 block over from South Sesame,
My man, Kermit, watched her sip lemonade over my shoulder
Told me, "Double, she's peepin' you, but the Count is on her heavy. You should give her some new digits... maybe ya'll could go steady?"
Smirking, I told him, "I ain't the type... That lovesick-like, lonely holding myself late @ night..." She ain't gon' have this boy saying goodnight, shuffling my Nikes down moonless streets trying to feel complete, like Tom Cruise and Renee Z-Zeel, Zw-Zwel...
Her spots pro'ly nice,
I bet she's got my book, The El-P, displayed all majestic on her coffee table proud,
I was rockin' a set and saw her in the crowd,
I remember cuz it was late in March,
She had me autograph it next to the 3rd stanza of "Spring is Hear", u know...
"... My heart is loyal
Old dogs resting by dirt road sides
Soft sighs escape the confinment of this old soul's rested bones
Vivid flashbacks to a time when we did more than talk and text
More than sit perched upon mantles before God and recite poems of protest
Back when we marched and took action,
Fought for what we believed, u know?
Back when oppression sic'd dobermans on peaceful sit-ins, and new masters used water hoses like we were children that just needed cooling off..."
She said she liked that part, at least, that's what Kermit said.
Bert and Ernie chimed in and told of times when they would hear her cry and plead,
Count wasn't multiplying that right
And she asked them if he, I mean, I would...
Make love with she, you know, (the letters of the day L-O-V-E) and sex is just commonality between us two,
We "make" love when we say Love or
Is it we take love... for granted.
I invited her back to my roots and had a black thought about her quest for love so,
We went to church and the choir sang amazing
But, grace gave her clarity enough to not get stuck in my delusions as a poet
My pretty words opened her mind's eye to my confusion
And she used it against me
And now
She sips lemonade across the room and Kermit watches her over my shoulder while she transmorphs from victim to victor
Her eyes thru gucci frames get bigger
As she watches me watchin her through a mirrored gaze
My panther pride stalking her sexy thighs like my own prey

copyright 2008 R. Clark®