Friday, February 25, 2005
I cry but he makes me feel secure with my tears. His kisses make my pain seem like happiness, soothing my soul and easing my fears. With him, I am content being the woman I am because he understands that it is far more than my physical that connects our souls. We are no longer two separate intities but one because our spirits agree on love. Everyday I see a piece of God in him, through his words, expressions and essence. Love is life and he has been my living lesson. I'm fully aware of his message and all that he teaches. Proverbs of truth he offers to my mind and heart. While making love to my mental is essential, pleasing my body is supplemental. Yet he finds a way to coincide the two and gives me the right amount of knowledge with pleasure and pain. Enough to sustain the right amount of ecstasy and stimulation to my brain.
Posted at 08:53 am by SylKay
Permalink
Saturday, January 01, 2005
As I… closed my eyes
artistic manifestations urging me along
I stepped into the center of my entity
and I…painted a dream
dipping my brush in the power of a
someday….
…one day… passion…stream
I shaped my longing for you
with strong screaming colors of your beautiful BLAKNESS calling me
to go… further…….
so I dipped my brush in your essence
as your spirit guided me along
creating the Nubian God I would come to know as …KING
erupting onto the canvas in a flood of …sensualistic and spiritualistic appeal
…………………
and as the colors of your GREATNESS enveloped me
I…painted a dream
Where I would be allowed to mix my colors into your palette of powerful…color schemes
and I + THEE became the theme
of my evolving dream
as my Nubian goddess intensity
mixed into your Warrior colored luminosity
I…painted a dream
admiring the curves of strength your body entailed and your soul sustained
my soft…sensuality allowed our blakness to be…ONE
long strokes…slow
and steady
…………
……………
as your body became mine in my artistic dream
and my physical vessel became yours to fill…to overflowing capacity
with each stroke
my spirit soothed into your control
as your bold colors kissed my being
our energy soared
as my colors mixed into yours
stroke after stroke after ….stroke….after……stroke…after…………………… stroke
the canvas shaking with the growing fiery fervor
no longer two beings but ONE
creation of blak perfection
where I in HE and HE in my every…thing
Oh…………… my King
explode all ova my canvas with your luscious potency
saturate my artistry…
…deep…
……strong……
………long…………
I…painted a dream
and the result was
total
holistic
E...C...S...T...A...S...Y
Posted at 09:59 am by SylKay
Permalink
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
Can I get a Drank PLEASE?!
this is a little spoken word peace that I had been workin of for a hot second...I love writin' about love....but yall gotta know my first love is poetry...soooooo why not write about POETRY....n e ways...hope u enjoy it...and remember it's SPOKEN WORD...so tha flow will be different than what some are used 2 readin
I am just so damn thirsty….
Poetically…
I….am…oh..…so
…………….so, so, so, so, so
*smiles* 
you know?
Dayummmmmmmmmmmmmm THIRSTY
…poetically…
…lyrically…
my mentality thirsts to drink from poetic minds
like anthropologists seek historical finds
like pookie looking for dat golden dyme
piece to give him a piece of…well peace
of mind I seek to find
thirsting for some of that evalasting poetic flava
that I can sip from now and still taste lata
mentality beggin to be watered and moistened with…perhaps…floetry
of some… poetry
I mean…
I….am…oh..…so..
…………….so, so, so, so, so
*smiles*
you know?
Dayum I am thirsty…
So I slide into deductive poetress mode
that I might seek to interpret codes
That might unlock that hidden mystery
Of..
…poetry….
Cause a sista is oh so so so SO thirsty…
Looking to lick up lyrical drops of repetitious imagery
And allow the vivid manifestations to fill me
Thoroughly
And overflowingly
But daaaaaaayyyyyyum a sista is OH SO…*smiles* thirstyyyyyyyyy 
Let me see let me see
I mean…
…verbally…I seek to sustain a thirst deep within
deep within
deep..
………deep within…
shhhh *whispers* its almost a sin
the way I thirst and crave for some of that goooood shhhhhhhhhhh……………..
-it
-you-
-get-
-it?-
I want that gooooooood shhhhhhh………………
-it
don’t give me that...
generic-all-sounds-the-same
spittin-da-same-game
tryin-to-coochie-coo-some-coochie-too
lackin-REAL-flava-watered-down
till-they-all-have-da-same-sound
all-lame-nursey-rhyme-schmactics
cause I am an addict
…Poetically…
seaching to quench free prose thirsts
with a first second…mmmm give me that third verse
that forth line give it to me the second time
but this time
let every line… sit on my tongue and play with me
allow me… to savor the syntax
of these rhythmic facts
drinking in the poetry
good poetry
flavaful to the last drop goodness overflowing
and showing the ingredients of its poetic tapestry
a pinch of spice
a dash of sensusality
a spoonful of passion
to create the potency
and maybe let me sip from ya haiku
so I can taste how good ya do what ya do
and feel the intensity seep into my cerebellum
absorbing the poetic revelations that you tell me...tell me...tell me TELL EM
screaming this is the shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-
it
Mmmmmmmmmmm…..
I mean…
I….am…oh..…so..
………….so, so, so, so, so
*smiles*
you know?
Dayum I am thirsty…
So I slide into deductive poetress mode
And see if…perhaps I can sip from some poetic epic to fulfill me
Welcoming the adjective abilities
to satisfy my poetic curiosities
Inhale the mesmerizing aromas of addictive melodic philosophies
As the instant affect washes over me
And over me…
Mmmmmmmm….
*smiles*
Dayummm I’m thirsty…
As I swirl my finger into the flava’d poetry
Swallowing the varieties
Of the diversity that is…
…poetry…
and gulp afta gulp I take it in
the verbal vivacity soothing my cravings
while the linguistic laced taste soothes my achings
and I…am soon to be satisfied
oh taste and see…
~poetry~
Posted at 09:00 pm by SylKay
Permalink
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Have I told u that I'm In love With U??
Have I told you that I'm in love with you?...NO??
Let me explain why,
one word (love) couldn’t exemplify the feelings I have inside.
One phrase couldn’t explain to you why deep inside I cry,
and it’s hard to convey this side of me when my pride keeps my eyes dry.
I’m sure I could tell you “I love you” but honestly it’d be a lie,
because the level of emotion I have for you is greater then that word defines.
So I’ll bottle it up and lock it away within my heart’s confines,
until that day I find the words to say, what’s hidden between those lines
of manuscript that were never writ, only confined to dwell within me,
in that boundary that’s surrounding me,
and I’d tell you these words resoundingly,
if there’s ever a way more profound than these,
but there’s not, so I fear I’ll never find release.
what's the reason I’ll never use that phrase??
is a very good question to raise....
it's because I refuse to give you any less then me,
and I consider my words to be the best of me.
Posted at 10:39 pm by SylKay
Permalink
I wish…
I could extract seeds from your kiss
Scientifically patent the inner workings of it
Mass produce lil packets of it…
Plant it…in the most fertile soil upon the earth
Grow it… into a strong oak but evergreen like tree
But more beautifully…shaped
Groves, rows and acres…
Crops of your sweetness
Like…
Florida oranges, apricots, pears and Georgia peaches…
I’d squeeze your lush essence
Fresh…every morning
And drink it for good health and vitamin C-->you
I wish…
I could boil you down
Pour you in my Granny’s mason jars…
And preserve you for the winter
Jam and Marmalade spreads on toast
In the afternoon…
When the sun is high and glistening
Over your groves…as doves speed out…
Across an open sky…above the bluffs of your blooms
I’d farm you…if I could
Spray your fruit with the laughter of your kiss…
For moisture and mist…
I can picture it…you
In the form of a garden…
I’d pick you everyday and…
Tend to your delicate roots
Braid your vines in perfectly squared lattice
Place a cast-iron/wood bench in the center…
for me to sit…inside of you
Every evening…I’d watch the sun dance
And slowly diminish…across your leaves
How I wish.... I were a farmer
I’d feed the world your beauty
And all things…would be at peace
Because…
we would all…. have had the opportunity
To know…and become one… with a heavenly being
…They say
You are what you eat
I wish… I could farm you…grow you…
Live my life tending to you…
If only…I knew
The Art of Farming…..You
Posted at 06:39 am by SylKay
Permalink
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Tryin somethin new....I got all these poems n no way to read em all...I luv tha cafe' don't get me wrong but who wants to be there everyday!!! all comments are welcome...hope yall enjoy em.
Posted at 09:47 pm by SylKay
Permalink