Vintage Poetry: Doom of the Kind Heart

It gives gives gives,
'till it bleeds bleeds bleeds
but never for itself
the life it pumps is
sucked out by all passersby
and breathed into "love" and
relationships later to be deemed,
unhealthy, destructive, useless, condemned

It gets battered, beaten
and a dozen times broken
by those promising to hold & cherish it
as if it only knew truer lies spoken
if it'd just keep its eyes open
instead of lying in wait, wishing, hoping

But it cannot see,
it cannot leave,
it cannot run,
it cannot breathe,
but simply want want want
and need need need
and care care care
and bleed bleed bleed

reaching for arms with a familiar warmth
feeling the sting of the familiar wrath
leaving it sullen, shaken,
cold, hard, blackened in aftermath
only to be warmed back up
full of doomed life
despite its penetrable fortifications
and its false strength

such domestic violence
goes unchecked
or unseen at all
for who truly knows its pain
as the casualty of a war
that caught it in passionate crossfire
yet it embraces its death
with wreckless naivete
with each new invader
as its selflessness pours constantly
without stopping to ask,
"why must you kill the kind heart?"

full of scrapes, sores, holes,
infested with disease,
refurbished with each new tenant
only to be raped and vandalized,
hasn't it suffered enough?

Rightly so, kill the kind heart
with its insufferable silent suffering,
its meticulous melancholy,
its festering friendships,
its loathed love,
for with its death the body may live,
breathe
see

without the kind heart,
the mind & body are free

So here it lies
from its timely demise
no longer open to be victimized
no more tears to cry
with its nonexistent gauged eyes
yet still it bleeds

bleeds for all those nights of passion
bleeds for ever trusting
bleeds for blissful ignorance
bleeds for neglected and abandoned omnipotence
and with its last drop of blood
prays for compassion and forgiveness




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Vintage Poetry: Blaze Up

I see you like... the ultimate spliff. I get such a euphoria from everything that i s you. i love nothin gmore than to be me and you, forgetting the rest of the world. i just wanna lie back, and drift away, enveloped in you like i inhaled the biggest breath. just like that breath, every moment and conversation and sensation and touch from you is precious. i hold it as long as i can, allowing it to soak deeper into my very veins. selfishly i want it all, only for me. knowing that i have 2 let go, i exhale, letting out not only the negative waste but the good with the bad because it takes all of it 2gether to make you, as wonderful as you are; thus, that exhale is a reluctant one. after having taken in as much as i can for that brief moment, i have 2 reluctantly pass it on 2 the next; your life is your own and i must realize that even your greatness is too much to be contained by me alone. pains me that i must share. but all of it to myself may be too much. but even when out of my grasp the feeling not only lingers but intensifies as time passes. my head swims in bliss and inebriation, sweeter than can be explained. i am beyond satisfied, but still hunger for more. my mind, body and senses expand like never before. and everytime it comes back to me i savor the brief moments again, only to compound my high. time passes and so does the L. but i am now are with the very thing that intoxicates me. i surpass whatever intent i even thought i'd had; i lose myself in you. i don't know anything else. and when i finally come down from my trip, i still have the greatest memories and sensations. the inevitable hunger and fatigue left in your wake ca only be quenched, though, by even more of you. and i am so thankful for such a thing of beauty, so natural. it must be divinely blessed.


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Vintage Poetry: Can You Handle It?

Can you stop the pain
That’d been set in stone
From so many nights & days
When I lie, alone
Praying love, to never again
Come calling my heart home

Can you stand by my side
Against insurmountable odds
With poised clenched fists
To, together, battle the storms
But still hold me in safe bliss
As my Black Adonis

Can I be sure
Like the peace passing all understanding
That you are my peace on earth
Reassuring me
Of my precious worth
So I’m sure that
I won’t be hurt

Can you be my contempt’s cure
Giving me strength to endure
The tests I was promised by the forevermore

Can you nurture all of me
Mind soul and body
Putting my thoughts at ease
Making all doubts cease
That my body is yours to please
And tease
In tender touches of ecstacy

Can you handle
The task before you
To be like no other
Willing to do
What no other could
And put yourself through
A gauntlet of passion
Knowing my love is steadfast
Holding me as I would you

Can you ever see
And even comprehend
You & me as “we”
And that my love has no end
When your heart lies with me
Giving myself completely
To make you feel finally free
Strong, tall, grounded, dominant, sexy
As the man you were born to be

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Vintage Poetry: Send For My Love

May not know much
About much of anything
But I need him
For myself to complete

Don’t know where he is
Don’t even know who
But I know in his
Arms is where I need to be

He could warm my heart
So cold
With all the hot passion
My body could hold
And whispers
That soothe the soul

He could keep my sorrow
From raining down my face
As my love would shower
Over him with
Such a sweet embrace

I’m not asking for the world
Or even a grain of sand
Just his affection and favor or
To simply hold my hand
Solitude is nice
But all be damned
This quest is killing me
WHERE IS MY MAN?!

If he were here,
I would not have this fear
I could not cry these tears
I would not long
For him to be near

If he were here,
He could be there
For me
To fill the lonesome
Somber nights
And grey days
That have come to
Consume my content
To be replaced by
Barren gloom

He needs to seriously hurry
Without further delay
And once he’s here
I’ll beg him stay
Because there’s only so much
Of his absence
That I can take


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Vintage Poetry: He Is

Such a breath
Of fresh air
And he doesn’t even know…
Know that he is
The gentle hot steam
Caressing my
Body cleansed
Making me feel new again

Cool like the
Other side of the pillow
Grasped in my hands
Beneath our
Resting heads
Safe in his arms
Strong, chocolate, immaculate
Beautiful works of art

The soft but
Strong touch
That wakes me
From glorious slumber

How could he
Have the slightest
Idea
The idea that…
He’s the poignant
Summer breeze,
Kissing,
Stinging my cheek
Like the sweat
From his brow
Against my back
In the sweet
Embrace of passion

That
He is…
The love I would love
But
Am scared to accept

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Vintage Poetry: Dry Cry

firm loving grasps on my back
and soft tender kisses to my shoulders
in the moments of passion
u claimed me as your own
holding me tight
my face burried in your chest
intertwined as one
your scent still lingers

wishing to have you near
only to know you can't be
i hide my feelings and truth
full of fear...
afraid of what you may say
afraid it may not be as serious to you

such uncertainty hides
behind your eyes
i dont know what i mean to you
i dont know what u think of me
i dont even know who i am to you
but its surely your heart i wish to get into
but it drives me crazy
not knowing how to

please understand me
i know i'm a huge undertaking
i'm like nothing you'll ever know
nothing you've ever seen
nothing you'll ever see again

and having made my mistake
i brought myself to you
open, weak and vulnerable
ready for the worst
simply wanting to see your face again
knowing you couldn't hide your smile
please make it okay again?

i dont know what to call us
i want more than friends
u're not my better half yet
and i dont want to be too needy
so i can't ask u for the world
but how else can i explain
the mere thought of you
replacing what used to be loneliness

so now am i to constantly wonder
what will happen next,
or what could have been?

i'll never know
what sounds sweetest to your ears
a lie is all you ever hear
so i lie here in my solitude
to cry dry tears


see the original post here: http://www.drytear.net/index.php?showtopic=20475&hl=

Vintage Poetry: Driven

Finally driven
Out of my arms and
Into the streets
Already further than I could reach
I remember the days I would
Pray to keep you
Break my back to please you
Suffer in silence to appease you
In return getting love
Seemingly everlasting
Which became as my lifes water
And sustained my very being

I gave it all to you
I set the keys to the motherland
At your worn and tattered feet
To receive those broken promises
Wiping away my tears
After having told me the next lie
Throwing me into the next trap

But enough was enough
I had finally decided
So I guess youve found
In the streets what I refused to relinquish
And now you say Im too to blame for that
For the furthering poisoning of my own people
For another beautiful soul
Soon to be lost
To the monstrous peculiar institutions
That have become the ghetto

It is that I loved you too much
That drove you to such desperation
Instead of you admitting
Your lack of ambition and consideration
Driving me from you in the first place
To ask for my complacency
And acceptance
Of you
And this life you have accepted
Is to destroy everything within me


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Vintage Poetry: Divine Mercy

God visited me today
And awakened my sleeping body
Clearing my sinuses and thoughts,
Heart and soul
With the firm embrace
To warm my tired heart
Opening my weakened soul
To His love
That I thought had forsaken me
And when I grew wary,
Filled my ears with the songs
And faith that carried my ancestors

Forcing me to my knees
And with hands reached towards
The Father, He whispered
Peace be still,
Bringing tears to my eyes
That seemed would never stop
Joy unmentionable
And praises to my lips in the
Tongue of ancients
He reminded me to whom I belonged
And my purpose for being
My troubles would not go unrewarded
And that this life was not eternal
As to not get caught up
For my place as His beloved
Is in His bosom

Reminded me how He had kept me
And my gracious ancestors
And it is to Him I should look
And I could not thank Him enough
Eyes still full of tears,
I humbled myself
Bare and vulnerable
With my freshly opened heart
And mouth
That began to bellow out:
For every mountain
You brought me over
For every trial Youve seen me through
For every blessing
Hallelujah!
For this I give You praise!

And gazing towards the Heavens
Was blinded by the
Splendor of His grace
Saw my grandmother
And received reassurance
Arising with understanding
Not merely of where Id been
But certain of where to go


see the original post here: http://www.drytear.net/index.php?showtopic=23283&hl=

Vintage Poetry: Mr. Intentional

The road to hell
Is paved with good intentions
While meaning well
Preaching the fulfillment of me
Mind body and soul
Youve always managed
To keep that safe distance

And youre always disappointed
Because my life keeps changing
But you forget
I deal in the real
What is palpable
I tried many times
And now know that I cannot cope
Lying so far and alone
Ears full of your desires
My body screaming
And soul calling
To be there beside you
Only to be blamed
For your loneliness
And demanded to travel
Those many unaffordable miles

To be yours forever
Has been a dream
not yet in the slightest, fulfilled
to call my body home to your arms
would bring pleasure unparalleled
and my wondering heart
eternal rest
because even it knows
that there is where it belongs
but blinded by your own desperate desires
always too busy ignoring the truth
so quickly judging me for my quick fixes
always forgetting what Ill always want is you

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Vintage Poetry: Damn Love

Why is love
So fucking aggravating
You give and you give
And you fucking give
What you don’t even have
And still more is expected
And demanded
And leeched

It can be the most
Beautiful prison
That will captivate
Your every thought
Your every movement
Your entire being
And you beg to be
Set free
Because the very shackles
Chafe and bruise your body
And dripping with blood
You offer even it
To the insatiable beast
With its snarling and biting
It frightens you
But as you shudder
From fear of its clench
You whisper for it
Never to desert you
Through stinging tears
And swollen throat

But you beg to be
Swept up in its flames
No matter how many times
You’ve been burnt
You heal your skin
You toughen up
Only to let yourself be
Whisked away in the
Confusing conflagration
As your flesh boils up
Your very bones scorched
Your pores themselves
Even call out hauntingly
For even your soul to be consumed

Stifled and stunted
Torn dozens of different ways
How are you
To ever know
When to truly trust it
Such a leap of faith
Is unnerving
And before it finally
Tears you completely apart
There’s a blinding light
And clarity
But the cloud of uncertainty
Forever lingers

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Vintage Poetry: I AM

even when I wanna be
someone or something else
i beg to be what i should be
and work to fix what i am
I am
i am worthy of love
i am meant to be happy
i am not perfect
i am constantly needing
i am always me

needing a man
too much
when needing to be both
woman and man
but confused on
what attributes belong
when she grew up
not knowing what it means
to be a man
never knowing a man's true love
but only having had
her trust in men shattered
from the beginning of life

forced to be both
because being a woman
signifies being weak
in a world where
being the beast of burden
is passed down through generations
and gladly accepted
and nobody else understands
but always ready to
pile on the pain

from a long line of
mules of the world
caring for all those around you
sacrificing all of yourself
to better them
being the have nots
to make sure they all have

always looking perfect
but it's all on surface
hiding inside
hiding behind habits
hiding behind all the wrong choices
suffering in silence
dying internally
but somehow looks good
enough to be every man's dream

a dream constantly fading
never attainable
allows herself to be caught
yet retains elussiveness
the enigma that
is this Black woman
for she has no match
and those who get her
are no good for her
but her heart bleeds
leaving so many broken in her wake
she settles
and loves for love's sake
never being able to discern
what's good for her
and what makes her more destructive

and she takes it
she takes all of it
and learns how not to cry
being used
being taken
being lied to
being built up
being torn down
being idolized
being punished
taking his tantrums
taking his neglect
taking his complaints
taking his shortcomings
taking his pain
taking taking his expectations
neglecting her own
ever apologizing
for even possessing them

wise beyond her years
mother-load of perpetual knowledge
that everyone else
has automatic access to
but her
at such a young age
she's done, seen
and been through so much
but the trail of tears
seems to never end
so there's no chocie
but full-steam ahead
satisfaction is impossible

she never asks for anything
and wonders why she gets nothing
no matter how many's around her
she's forever alone
but can't get caught up
on herself
because those she loves
matter so much more
even if that love
is not mutual

a fighter
always struggling
barely surviving
but surviving still
never knowing exactly how
and definitely not why

she is not plastic
she is not impossible
she is real
she exists
she begs to exist
and she begs to be understood
she begs to be needed
she begs for the stress
and pain to go away
but there's never rest
for this woman's work
MY work
is never done


See the original post here: http://www.drytear.net/index.php?showtopic=23402&hl=