Sunday, December 05, 2004


© 21 October 2004, The Griot Poet

I have the ability to teach martial arts and life’s lessons.

I deliver poetry pieces with the fervor of the preached Word.

Yet, my confession is, when I’m stressing I find the opportunity to stray within reach.

I’d just have to stay mum, publicly treating my undercover like my female chum.

By vanity, I’m flattered that at forty-two, I’ve “still got it.”

My past reality is the memories of empty one-night stands,

Bland pick-up lines that most likely NEVER worked!

Sleeping with the wives of 7 men: one the wife of a very close friend, causing much hurt.

Feeling like a curse or worse, I painted over each reflective surface of my living space with the color of my soul’s mood: black.

For I lacked spiritual insight, as my third eye was blind: “eye wide shut.”
So, I know before we chance this intimate dance where this broad road leads.

Though an affair would renew me; sooth me, like crack cocaine, your pheromones will map their way to my brain, wrapping my medulla oblongata with the “one more hit” refrain, driving a brother insane.

I have a woman that despite these faults truly loves me!

Now, I’ve planted the seeds of men and I want to lead them by my example.

I want to metaphysically pry open their third eyes with ample amounts of Living Water Visine ® – I want my sons to be FREE!

Though by vanity, at forty-two I’m flattered that I’ve “still got it,”

I say this with all sincerity, ignoring my smaller head’s testosterone masculinity as I say this through gritted teeth spirituality:

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