Often...

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© 8 August 2013, the Griot Poet

I think of you quite often,
Body framed in sundress,
Bare shoulders, cleavage leaving just enough mystery
Eloquent and silhouetted next to Town Lake
Or Oasis sunset

I think of you quite often,
Sliding a supply of Shea Coco Butter ointment
To anoint your pedicured confidence
Slyly cradling your foot in my lap under clothed table
As we make appointment with our waiter…

I think of you quite often,
Reciting at a poetry venue
Thrilling audiences with your command of diction
Challenging the coefficient of kinetic friction
Where you have the proclivity
To line dance Electric Slide and “The Wobble”
In the denouement of festivities

I think of you quite often,
Saying goodbye at your front door
[You] Pretending to be in a hurry for an appointment
Wrapped in towel that you suddenly let
Fall effortlessly to your floor

I think of you quite often,
The cloth pallet at your front door
Might as well be adhesive spider web
And I, the fly, are caught in your spell
And any other appointment just lost meaning…

I think of you quite often,
Moving from the floor to the dining room table
Clearing the bar
Finally making it to your bed
Covered in rose petals and scented to fragranced bouquet…like you.

I think of you quite often,
As you “annoy me” when I’m trying to make us
Turkey bacon omelets
To the point I surrender and give obeisance
Turning aisles off
And using olive oil for a different lubricant
Kneeling to lift you on my shoulders as suddenly I realize I’d rather taste…you.

I think of you quite often!

Can't [Not] Be...

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© 8 August 2013, the Griot Poet

I can't not be your boogeyman,
When your self-esteem is fashioned
Around me accepting
Second or third-class citizen status.

I can't not be your boogeyman,
When your echo chambers are fashioned
By bloviating college non-graduates
Treating others' histories like they never happened.

I can't not be your boogeyman,
When merely my entrance on elevators
Elicit stares of fear, dread and shifted purses; staring at automatic doors;
Michael Jordan and Eddie Murphy treated to the [urban legend] buffoonery when requesting a
floor.

I can't not be your boogeyman,
Levar Burton has his own ritual
With the police that was obviously amiss
When NYPD stopped their plain-clothes police chief in a back-in-the-day "stop-and-frisk."
(No Christmas bonuses)

I can't not be your boogeyman,
When store detectives piled me
Bodily into a wall of toys
While he turned blind eye to four pairs of
Keds walking out on their "own" (4 white kids feet)
'Cause he *knows* NIGRAS steal!

I can't not be your boogeyman,
When you know George Zimmerman
On a first-name basis on an impartial jury
Of his peers with visits by B37's lawyer husband,
Manicures, pedicures, massages; movies
NY agent book deals
Dependent on but one outcome.

I can't not be your boogeyman,
When one out of 44
Causes some of you to lose your minds and common sense:
2.3% isn't statistically significant,
Everything in probability and physics
Tells us there's no such thing as 100% efficiency.
(That is perpetual motion - real or political - and violates the Law of Entropy)

I can't not be your boogeyman,
I will not put my hand on a burning aisle
And hope you crisp;
I will not drink the same poisonous vitriol
And hope you succumb to death's grip:

I will extend my open hand
As our ancestor's evolved the handshake
To represent no weapons and our shared fate:

"For he has made man of ONE BLOOD..."*

The choice is yours; karma pays in full
Because, you see

I can't not be your boogeyman!

*Acts 17:26 NKJV - "And He has made from ONE BLOOD every nation of men to dwell on all the face of the earth, and has determined their preappointed times and the boundaries of their dwellings,..."