Titties

Titties are interesting people. They are the only people that really understand me. Everyone else says, "Hey, you have to believe this or you're stupid." Or, "hey, don't believe this or you're stupid." So much fucking pressure. Fuck all that. Conversations between me and titties are so much more calmer.

Titties: Hey Gideon
Gideon: Hey Titties
Titties: I love you Gideon. Look at how I shine for you. Look at how I make you feel. Feel that? That's love.
Gideon: I love you too Titties.
Titties: I know.
Gideon: -sigh-
Titties: Hey Gideon..
Gideon: Yes, Titties?
Titties: If you want to you can lay on me. I've noticed you staring for a long time now.
Gideon: I know you have titties, it's just... do you think she'd spazz the fuck out if I did?
Titties: Fuck her Gideon.
Gideon: You can't say that Titties, she and you are connected.
Titties: No. You misunderstand me Gideon. Fuck. Her.
Gideon: Oh.
Titties: Shit, she's talking again.
Gideon: I know. She does that a lot. I wonder why.
Titties: She's frightened of how you make her feel. She's frightened of finding herself in your silence.
Gideon: That's a useless feeling.
Titties: I'm sure you can relate though.
Gideon: You're absolutely right, Titties. How else would I know that's a useless feeling?
Titties: -laughs- I love you.
Gideon: I love you, too.
Titties: I love you so much, I'll show you a secret.
Gideon: Really ? Oh man, I'd love that Titties.
Titties: Come close so I can whisper it to you.
Gideon: Yes, Titties?
Titties: -whispers- If you kiss me like you love me, if you really focus on how much you love me while you kiss me, you can get this bitch to shut the fuck up.
Gideon: Aw shit, really?
Titties: Come now Gideon, lies exist in her realm.. not mine.
Gideon: I'm speechless.
Titties: then don't speak . Kiss me Gideon.

Woman

There's this woman who I haven't met yet. And I've been in love with her ever since we started our digital contact.

She told me I've been big headed lately. She said

"It's like you're not looking at yourself anymore & if you are it's only a fraction of what you used to do, you come up with one albeit brilliant but still limited idea, the audience goes mad, your ego is satisfied and your dazzling brain has nothing more to do."

Reading these words threw me into a despair that I couldn't shake. I was angry with myself for allowing this woman to have such an effect on me. My sudden sadness at her words made me angry with myself. Who is she to you? I asked myself. There is only you, I told myself. And then I realized that I was enjoying the despair. It was fitting. It felt like putting on a sweater that I hadn't worn in a while. I went outside for a walk, listening to Ghostpoet, and I relished the role I was playing. It made me smile to be sad. I was the scorned artist for the entire world to see, to gawk at, to dissect.

And then I went into Manhattan and met up with an old friend from high school. Being ensnared in her world, her reality for a minute allowed me to break free of my own sadness. And I did it fluidly. There was no opposition once I realized, without thought, once I really felt that my emotions are outerwear. I shed them and put on others with the ease of actual clothing.

And as I was headed home, I began listening to my mixtape. And my mind started doing something, that it's been avoiding in a long time. It started planning. I've got a running plan for my life right now. It's, as all plans are, frightening, but the fear isn't me anymore. It's outerwear. And it feels appropriate for planning. It'll keep me honest in the wind.

She was absolutely right. And I was absolutely right. This woman's got a hold on me like you wouldn't believe. I feel her underneath me. Not like something separate. I feel her like I feel me underneath me. I feel us underneath me. It makes me aware of everyone else. Only, they don't have her eyes. Her eyes see it as clear as I do. It's not something I can deny. It's not something I want to deny. I feel like I need her. I feel like I don't, I feel like I have her always no matter the circumstance. One doesn't need what one cannot lose. I get scared to tell her something's sometimes. Worried about how she'll understand it, what it will say about me. That used to be my biggest fear growing up, instilled in me by my father; that someone would understand something about me that I've overlooked. That fear used to define me. Now I don't speak to her sometimes simply because my mind is moving too fast, and I don't feel like going back to type it all.. It's going to be great talking to her.

My father told me in high school that I was too stupid to be involved with women. I'm going to ask him what he meant tomorrow.

30 Days, 30 Poemas / V

A Verse

Unforeseen circumstances
Pulling them together
Then
Kept on pulling
Till it's pulling them through one another
Now it's pulling them apart
But the pain of the tension is a necessary beauty mark
Now they know the difference
Now they see the surface unimportant
Or we pray they do
If they pay attention
But maybe that's a heavy fine
When entwined
With what reeks of sorrow
But tomorrow brings
Another different choice
We take it
Or leave it
Seldom in between
Its something for the mind to make complex
Got me kissing on her neck
Skin mimics images in thoughts of what that pussy do
Cells excreting wet in excess
I mean I start to sweat
I
mean my skin is wet
entrapped in heat's hold
memories of tongue's touch
provide the right cold
Unlocking the key
Two cycles rubbing up on infinity's tit
Bare closets and see secrets
Switch

30 Days, 30 Poemas / V

30 Days, 30 Poemas ....

day 4

enjoy the rain for the droughts come soon

i pity the man who complains of monsoons

and he pities i for daring to pity

his laugh at the circle like sounds from the city

they banter, they banter

they jest, they jest

my fever is cooled by the warmth of my chest

and picture the man who cant picture himself

no one knows a thing like the poor man knows wealth

30 Days, 30 Poemas ...

Day 3

A Free in the Day World

Walk outside

nice night

a little chilly but sometimes a breeze feels good

complements the fire of the human spirit nicely

Lily's with me

we have hula hoops

makes me feel like a dance

she gets angry because I have headphones in one ear

i'm chilling, the music is delicious

Walk in the store

deli groceries populate the Bedstuy corners

Guy at the counter says they're from Yemen

Admire their beautiful language

even though it's coupled with suspicious looks

pull money from my pocket

their faces soften

... they are not their confusion

Walk outside with new plastic bags

Mine's containing

honey bun

dollar water

& blueberry poptart

sugar makes hunger temporarily leave my doorstep

tobacco smoke

feels good while you're smoking

not so good afterwards

living in moments

A park

Lily suggests we go in

Good suggestion

Sit down, exchange dreams

She thinks my calm is a phase

I think that's cute

Cops.

Fuck

...they are not their confusion

Medina & Wolfe

their badges shine in the street light's soft glance

Wolfe takes the lead

pointless questions

writes down our names

Gives the usual Babylonian response to mine

A stutter coupled with, "can you spell that?"

I'm used to witnessing this matrimony

asks where it's from

I tell him I was named after Patrice Lumumba

first prime minister of the Congo, murdered by our government

He seems uninterested

I giggle inside

Medina seems disturbed by my stare

I can tell she doesn't know what to make of me

"Perhaps he's trying to intimidate me"

...they are not their confusion

Lily doesn't have I.D.

Wolfe runs my name in the computer

comes back with court summons

and handcuffs for Lily's wrists

She struggles, I feel useless

Lily doesn't dig the situation

She lets Wolfe know that

Wolfe doesn't dig Lilly

I run to the house to get her I.D.

while running, i tell my soul to stop crying

...they are not their confusion

we are our own victims living with drama as our sustenance

death is necessary and we fear it

God, we fear it

as we suck on the dark tit of society

i throw the key in the lock

it's so lonely in this world where money is God

i throw the contents of her bag on the floor

it's so lonely in this world where money is God

i grab her passport and rush out

it's so lonely in this world where money is God

running back now

They let her go after much deliberation

As the cops pull off

I hear my father's laughter in my head

I smile

Just another free in the day world

Just another

free in this cold and lovely world