Gypsy Woman

I met her on a snowy day in Harlem.

She was walking in the store I was walking out of.

She had a son. A toddler.

I knew it was her.

My 6th sense peaked at the sight of her.

We exchanged information, but we knew what this was all about.

She was a gypsy.

Restricted by the ignorance of our fellow Harlem native male.

We must do better, my brothers.

I digress. 

We stayed in communication, and finally she invited me to her dwelling.

We shared knowledge. 

We shared libation.

And in the heat of getting to know each other,

we made love.

Deep, passionate, unforgettable, un-regrettable sex.

We fought the calling of love.

She didn’t feel pretty enough.

I didn’t feel city enough.

But we stayed in touch.

I shared with her the magic of my music.

On a literal, technical front.

Through grace, she showed me something.

Something I shall never forget.

Something I dare not show my peers and those younger than me, both in age and in spirit.

Her inspiration guided me through a new dark 24-hour period.

I wanted the darkness to continue, her light was so bright.

I thank my Gypsy woman.

I only hope to enhance and enhance with what she showed me.

If you’re lucky, I’ll show you in person.

But it must be in person.

And you must thank my Gypsy woman.

I thank my Gypsy woman.

I’ll just never let her know how much I thank her.

I’ll let the sex tell the story 

if we ever do it again.

Pulp

 Fiction

tastes better
when seasoned with reality.

No one can dictate my life to me. 
Even if they understand it.

What I DON'T understand,

youprovide.

That's pure honesty.
And why people lie.

Do YOU understand?
That would make us a mighty alliance.
One to be proud of.

Yet I'm new to the picture.

Standout scenes for others are overlooked.
Standout scenes for me are undercooked.

Pulp fiction tastes better
when seasoned with reality.

Naming My Voices

I'm surprised I didn't recognize you before.
You never made yourself available as an enemy.

You're not an enemy.

You are an ally, in fact.
You can help me.

Prepare to be my muse.
You nimrod.

I never saw someone ready to be pummeled before.
It's silly, kinda.
Almost humorous.

I wonder who else you conned into making you a muse of art.
How they dealt with it.
Maybe I don't need to know.

The game ends with me.

Still, it continues.

I almost welcome you to torment me more.
It stays between us.
You never share my secrets.
In face, you taunt people who desire to ...master me, if you will.

Without you, I am in pain.
With you, I reign.

Welcome to MY side of the story.

I know my voices.
The voices that plague my head.

And I met them through you.

Though I've always known you.

You're everywhere.
The rebel of the pack.

I can go on...

Clubs

Bottles of D'usse and Ace of Spades, everywhere.

I'm good with my personal bottle of Jack.

Chaser? Coke.

The bittersweet time I'm having.

Alone, with many.

I read Tarot.

My deck is 78.

Still, I'm The Ace of Clubs.

Why is The All Seeing Eye at the club?

To feel you.

What are you dancing to?

What makes you sing along?

It's not for me.

It's for you!

Positive

 Pause, but I'm breaking in half.

I'm trying to give you the best of me,

But it's not enough.

I can't prove to the ignorant that I'm innocent.

I can't be Satan around you.

What you think I should be isn't me at all.

And if it was so easy, YOU dooit.

I thought not.

I make living look easy.

TOO easy .

Curse words

Fuck!

So mote it be.

This shit is Fucking exhausting!

So mote it be.

I have officially put a curse on my work ethic.

I have officially put a spell on the outcome.

Won't you hear me!

Won't you ... just try?

It takes effort to not sound perfect.

You can be taught skill.

You are born with talent.

Come!

Let's get born again!

Maybe this time,

I'll envy you!

So mote it be...

Lady Venus

I FOUND YOU!
I ...

wait...

...did I create you?

You are my magic spell.
Rather, the beautiful curse, placed on humanity.

Set to let the toes of the everyday woman, go.

Everyday woman, go!
You are free to fall in love with the scent of your own womanhood.

Hoo-haa!, to quote Al Pacino.

I am blind to the sight of your behavior.
Whether good, bad, or alien.

I tapped into The Devil for you, Lady Venus.
I know what you want.
Clear the air for the voluptuous fog.

The ladies have taken over.

At the same time, they've been ejected from the game.

The more women there are in the world, the better off alone I am.

I'll let you rock the world, ladies.

Here I am, with a beer and a God-given homophobic vocabulary.

Lady Venus, the world is yours!