I'm just making my everyday travels and what do I see?
A beautiful soldier limping past me...
Clothes tattered and bloody
Boots worn and muddy
It was apparent that her last battle had been awfully ugly.
The look on her face was not one of pain though...
Her sanguine-stained cheeks were filled with an anguish she sought to vanquish
And now too deep in this quest, she was beginning to languish
I could not conceive nor believe that this woman that looked to be kin to Eve
Only wanted love, yet men continued to bereave...
It made no sense.
But in my stupor, I made my way to her.
Never had I seen such erosion of character...
The bullet holes in her clothes showed that men had taken shots
But her bulletproof vest of confidence made sure she didn't get got
Her abdomen was the cleanest part of what was left of her uniform...
The arms she once hugged with were now dragging along
The smile that once shined forth was now lagging along,
With her entire demeanor. The meaner the enemies,
The harder she fought to love sensibly...
But those men were impossible...
They had hearts that weren't unlockable..
Waited until they got to know you before they began to show you,
That their blows weren't blockable.
Like spies on enemy sides, they took your info and used against you
But you were a true lover...putting your essence on the line in every fight you got into...
Your knuckles are bare...a pale representation of your true skin tone
And there are lines on your face...each place where your skin's gone.
Tears of acid did it to you...tears of pain and hurt covered in rain and dirt.
You were left to die after every battle
Each man leaving a scar like a brand on a cattle...
You limp, legs languid from standing up to near insurmountable lies
Your boots are hackneyed from kicking the BS back at these guys
But no other place is as affected as your eyes...
Once a beautiful color, but now as dull as a morning sky with no sunrise
Instead of the black and white you were given, you tried to see in hues
But in this vision logicality was missin', so you continued to lose...
It came to the point where you had to choose
Either start fighting back and make them pay their dues
Or remain idyllic and face near insufferable blues...
Ranging from sky to royal to navy, they came to down you
Reality came crashing down around you
Leaving lacerations all over...
But even then, you continued to fight.
Like a martyr for love, you were battling for what was right
What was YOUR right: the right to a good, honest love.
You've held up nicely, I must give you credit
But love is a battlefield, and I'm here to play medic.
Let's heal these wounds and make sure you convalesce
We're fighting for the same cause...maybe our hearts can coalesce.
-A. Lewis
Friday, February 12, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
A Poem: Playing With Fire - 2/10/10
I'm a passionate man with a passionate plan...
I wanna burn you with the passion at hand
It'll be like fire and brimstone once I put these lips on,
You.
Every time I touch you it's like an earthquake
Yet instead of tremors, waves of fire spread through you
This incalescent heat creates beads of sweat...
They provide no relief though
The further they slide, the further you hide
Hide from what's burning, yearning inside you.
More and more these searing pustules appear...
Bursting with the passion that's leaking out of you in more ways than one
Labored breathing is a sign that this favored meeting is bringing out your now tapered needing
Tapering towards a meeting of piping P's...
One slang and one official.
Ruby red rays of arousement now give way to scarlet sights
Tinged by the lust, darkness has befallen this starlit night
Your inhibitions are melting away
Following the suit of your clothing
The heat of passion is the Ace of Spades...
You don't want to follow suit but you're folding
I hold you tightly, and you feel as though Satan himself has you his grasp
Between the inferno and sins, your will bends, and you fail to hold a gasp...
The air is thick with dreams and desires
Smoke from our infernal internal fires
And you can't help but choke...
As though you've taken a hit of coke,
The smoke goes through respiration and hits your veins
Your resistance is eroded and your bad side is goaded
The gun has been loaded with no way for you to control it...
And as the last of your undergarments hit the floor...
BANG, you aren't that sweet neighborly girl anymore.
The insidious flames now play fastidious games
You are enraptured by your own libido
With the gunsmoke smothering your judgment, here we go...
Into my arms you lunge, lips scorching at mine
Hands became torches, lighting the way to what we wanted to find
Only the volcano awaited, our destination for the night
As we laid in it, we couldn't help but delight in our fiery plight
Every fire needs oxygen, and breathing was a cacophony of lust
The only thing in vision was the lascivious mission, our minds clouded by sulfuric dust
Constantly trying to please, we shifted like tectonic plates
Knowing full well that conflagrations were taking shape
There was an unbearable buildup, as sizzling love filled up
Body and mouth were as one, erupting simultaneously
And the fire soon died...but not without crackling heinously.
Your innocence lay listless in the ashes
A victim of us playing with fire...knowing our bodies are matches.
-A. Lewis
I wanna burn you with the passion at hand
It'll be like fire and brimstone once I put these lips on,
You.
Every time I touch you it's like an earthquake
Yet instead of tremors, waves of fire spread through you
This incalescent heat creates beads of sweat...
They provide no relief though
The further they slide, the further you hide
Hide from what's burning, yearning inside you.
More and more these searing pustules appear...
Bursting with the passion that's leaking out of you in more ways than one
Labored breathing is a sign that this favored meeting is bringing out your now tapered needing
Tapering towards a meeting of piping P's...
One slang and one official.
Ruby red rays of arousement now give way to scarlet sights
Tinged by the lust, darkness has befallen this starlit night
Your inhibitions are melting away
Following the suit of your clothing
The heat of passion is the Ace of Spades...
You don't want to follow suit but you're folding
I hold you tightly, and you feel as though Satan himself has you his grasp
Between the inferno and sins, your will bends, and you fail to hold a gasp...
The air is thick with dreams and desires
Smoke from our infernal internal fires
And you can't help but choke...
As though you've taken a hit of coke,
The smoke goes through respiration and hits your veins
Your resistance is eroded and your bad side is goaded
The gun has been loaded with no way for you to control it...
And as the last of your undergarments hit the floor...
BANG, you aren't that sweet neighborly girl anymore.
The insidious flames now play fastidious games
You are enraptured by your own libido
With the gunsmoke smothering your judgment, here we go...
Into my arms you lunge, lips scorching at mine
Hands became torches, lighting the way to what we wanted to find
Only the volcano awaited, our destination for the night
As we laid in it, we couldn't help but delight in our fiery plight
Every fire needs oxygen, and breathing was a cacophony of lust
The only thing in vision was the lascivious mission, our minds clouded by sulfuric dust
Constantly trying to please, we shifted like tectonic plates
Knowing full well that conflagrations were taking shape
There was an unbearable buildup, as sizzling love filled up
Body and mouth were as one, erupting simultaneously
And the fire soon died...but not without crackling heinously.
Your innocence lay listless in the ashes
A victim of us playing with fire...knowing our bodies are matches.
-A. Lewis
Monday, February 1, 2010
Just Freestyling - 2/1/10 from (1/31/10)
"I simply keep getting better with time; I pop bottles so the girls get wetter with wine/The thing is, they get wetter in time; So I tell 'em, your name would sound better with mine/One says, 'well either your bed or mine;' I reply 'your bed is fine'/We get there, and I quickly lay her down; I tell her 'I just wanted you safe and sound'/You're very drunk, so now go to sleep; I may be a player, but my morals run deep."
"They'll try me but stand right by me, my competition is spineless; you would think I don't wear a watch, my style is timeless. If you didn't catch that one, please rewind this; my pockets are going green, mental faucet flowing clean, no need to refine this. Your girl's mind is where mine is, plus what you'll find is your mind is what makes you a minus."
-A. Lewis
"They'll try me but stand right by me, my competition is spineless; you would think I don't wear a watch, my style is timeless. If you didn't catch that one, please rewind this; my pockets are going green, mental faucet flowing clean, no need to refine this. Your girl's mind is where mine is, plus what you'll find is your mind is what makes you a minus."
-A. Lewis
A Philosophy: Black Dating - 2/1/10 from (1/31/10)
"Pointing fingrs draws eyes." I mean that to say that if you're always pointing out a problem, you're doing nothing bu attracting attention to yourself as an unrealistic person that blames everything on others. Fingers find scapegoats. So black men, stop blaming Black women for your dating problems. It is a shared onus that neither side can singly correct.
We must exemplify the change we hope to see. If you're tired of women being whores, then stop treating and speaking to them as such; also encourage your guy friends to do the same. If you're tired of men being immature dogs, stop dealing with them. Men are pretty simple-minded, and if you stop dealing with them, they'll either wonder about it and change or stay the same. Very cut and dry. If you can get your fellow females to do the same, and that type of guy is PUBLICLY DETESTED and not simply absconded from, then he will have no choice but to change, or risk forever sticking with the foolish young girls that know no better. Change starts on the side from which you point. If women WERE to change, but men stayed the same, would the change not be in vain? They'd be even more amazing, yet they'd still be treated wrong...which would inevitably revert them back to their original state, with even more scorn, anger, and resentment than they originally harbored. The converse of that is true as well, as men would be especially dirty philanderers if they changed but ended up reverting back. Be and spread the change. No change can come of finger pointing. Like I said, fingers find scapegoats.
-A. Lewis
We must exemplify the change we hope to see. If you're tired of women being whores, then stop treating and speaking to them as such; also encourage your guy friends to do the same. If you're tired of men being immature dogs, stop dealing with them. Men are pretty simple-minded, and if you stop dealing with them, they'll either wonder about it and change or stay the same. Very cut and dry. If you can get your fellow females to do the same, and that type of guy is PUBLICLY DETESTED and not simply absconded from, then he will have no choice but to change, or risk forever sticking with the foolish young girls that know no better. Change starts on the side from which you point. If women WERE to change, but men stayed the same, would the change not be in vain? They'd be even more amazing, yet they'd still be treated wrong...which would inevitably revert them back to their original state, with even more scorn, anger, and resentment than they originally harbored. The converse of that is true as well, as men would be especially dirty philanderers if they changed but ended up reverting back. Be and spread the change. No change can come of finger pointing. Like I said, fingers find scapegoats.
-A. Lewis
A Freestyle Piece: The Sound of A Broken Heart - 2/1/10 from (1/30/10)
"Piercing silence...a cacophony of incomplete thoughts...the crackling of burning dreams, going up in smoke...the percussion of tears falling on deaf ears...the clink of rose-colored glasses hitting the ground...a heart is broken, here is the sound...the wailing of a heart crying...the groans of feelings dying...the whistle of steam blowing...the bubbling of percolating blood flowing...sadness gives way to madness..."
-A. Lewis
-A. Lewis
My Personal Manifesto - 2/1/10 from (1/28/10)
"I can, I will, I must; not for me, but for He and those who instill their trust. Greatness is not mine alone to attain; I will reach it and make it everyone's gain. Failure is not an option, success is all but guaranteed; the path to it lies within and He is my lead. My character shall speak and my mind shall shine; I don't want to be the greatest, just the best of my time."
-A. Lewis
-A. Lewis
A Brief Philosophy: Love's Flow - 2/1/10 from (1/26/10)
"Love is a free flowing emotion. What does that mean? WE damn (dam) it through notions that divert, scars that prevent, and fears that diminish the flow. Love flows THROUGH us...that is why intimacy (hugs, kisses, etc.) feels the way it does...your love flows to and through another. Our souls run on the hydroelectricity of that flow; love makes happiness common and greatness constant."
-A. Lewis
-A. Lewis
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