Words of Color by M. Angelique (best books to read ever txt) 📕

/> Committed and monogamous,
For love's sake.

Kind, contemplative, mature,
Righteously honest, intuitive and.......pure.
Wondrously created, uniquely curvaceous
Beauteously draped in humanity,
Simply Delicate, Timeless and Elegant
Deliciously feminine...
Woman…for sure.


My Hand

When my hand picks up the pen
Lyrical words and prose begin
It sings of things past and things to come
It starts with a preposition, noun or even a verb
Then come the rhythm together with hand’s words
Words like notes from Coltrane’s horn
One after another, syllables flow until a song is born
I can hear the sound of its melody in my dreams
At my awakening my hand is geeked.
On ten and anxious
Got a mind of its own
Unrestrained artistic movements
That goes on and on and on
It calls to my brain ”Feed me more words”
“Feed me more rhymes”
Hand with its pen responds
All day sometimes
Damn hand! You kind of out of control!
But the more hand writes, the more she soothes the soul
Hand knows just what she’s doing
When she picks a pen
Cause no matter what, she will create
Whatever the inspiration is,
Whether its love, politics or the gulliest of sex,
When hand picks up her pen,
Who knows what’s next.
So hand has been given an eternal mandate
Write Delicious words to bring ecstasy to your ears,
For years and years, and years and years.


My Waters Run Deep


My waters run deep, don’t be deceived by my Gucci or Prada
my waters run deep, deeper than any ocean
more than hype spoken out of vanity.
My waters run deep, into the soul, beneath the earth surface
dig for it to spring forth,
feel its moisture upon your hand’s fingertips
Dig deeper still, it flows freely beneath me
naked eyes are blind to its source,
though they occasionally gaze at my waters tributaries.
In the heat of the day, you make your way to my bank
afraid to swim; you stroke my surface with your hand.
I soothe you as I flow through your open fingers.
Your throat is dry from speaking too much
but saying nothing, Valuable words of truth
Have once again fallen on deaf ears
your scoop a portion of me into your palms
your spirit is revived as you take a drink.
Ahhh, the sound of ecstasy as you are satisfied
savoring my essence, I make my way into your belly
replenishing what the day stole from you.
The urge to completely submerge yourself overtakes you
but...fear of drowning hinders you
sadly enough though, you seem not to know
in my waters you float, until you can swim on your own.

Color of Emotions and Conscience

Rain

Laughter rings throughout the streets of Joytown
Even though the rain’s been falling for three days now.
The people here seem unaffected by its drenching quality
They continue to smile and love anyhow.
You can see the sun peeking from behind a cloud,
As if he is giving his approval of their joy
The children dance merrily in this rain outside my window’s pane
Splashing in the puddles, giggling with no cares, with no troubles
I watch them until my lips curl into a smile,
All the while,
The rain continues to flow.
Strangely enough though
It hasn’t rained in Joytown,
No, not for three days now.


AMERICA: A POEM FOR A PRESIDENT AND HIS PEOPLE

America your history has been altered,
In the coming days, will you stumble?
Will change falter?
Will you continue forward to truly be free?
Or will you digress to your former mentality?
The praise of your progress has gone before you in every land
Because you matured enough to judge not by color
But by the character of a man.
Now America that you are full grown,
And the wounds of your youth begin to heal,
What will be the case if promises are not fulfilled?
Will you still cheer and adore,
Or when the mistakes of being human are made,
Will the words “crucify him” be employed?
So America, now that the audacity of hope has ignited the flame
Will we maintain this momentum?
So that the mistakes of our past will never be relived again.
All that is left now is to pray and see,
If in America all men are truly created equally.


She…

As the sun rises, it casts its glory upon her exquisite anatomy
While during the night death stole one more.
It seems he steals more often these days
With no mercy, in silence,
His coldness courses through her veins
Absorbing the brilliant colors of life until….

Creation carries on as if it has been unaffected
Even though she cries with for the ones whom death accepted.
His greediness as insatiable as it is;
Has great value.
Perpetuating his cycle of life
He is the cleansing to humanity
No matter how merciless at times.
The colors of the world watch in awe and pity at the sight of death as he sits by her hut;
Waiting for her to succumb to his seduction
Trying her best to maintain normality
She carries on with the work of the day;
Washing her linens, caring for her young
Hugging them tighter than before,
She knows her day may be soon.

Her knuckles are white as she clutches mortality
Not willing to let it go.
Its colors are too vibrant, too magnificent to exchange for darkness
Too magnificent to exchange for darkness.
The world watches,
With their cameras and satellites;
As she majestically goes about the business of dying,
It watches.
As her limbs become weak and eyes grow dim,
It watches.
Along with the lion in the bush and the elephant on the plain
It watches.

She cries to the world as they gaze at her
She’s had so many problems, yes,
Since the time of her youth.
Then were her breasts were full of nectar
Her thighs fertile and supple,
But the greed of humanity raped her, left her, to die in her shame.

The shame it forced upon her
In her ignorance she accepted its offer.
She wanted so much to be loved.
Her kaleidoscope of colors intimidates the others.
Parading her reds, hues of indigo and deep bronzes
Beauty…yet still.
Yes even in death her beauty remains
As the sun rises it casts its glory upon her exquisite anatomy
The world watches, it watches.


Not for Sale

Reparations let me tell you what I think about
Reparations.
Hush money used to repair the damage to a people
Using capital in an attempt to unlock the shackles
Used to hold captive my liberty and justice.
Sounds good, but its just it’s just too late and long overdue
Hypocrite is what I call you!
To get rid of your guilt and fears
You want to erase 390 years;
Of pain, discrimination and tears.

You think a few dollars is a solution
To your ongoing pollution;
Spread through your limited concepts
Hidden agendas, double standard laws and precepts;
To distract me from obtaining my dream.
Please help me to understand,
Why the sudden action for your plan
When the previous eagle could give a damn
About the care of color or the state of any other
Than, himself.

It seems rather droll to me
How this reparations interest now came to be
When before it was smothered, and placed in a hush file
It wasn’t until the color of your sacred house changed
That you want to repair and rearrange
The view of the contribution of the slave.

But it’s so sad to me
In your eyes that we
Have become so superficially motivated
That we can be easily bought or sold.
But Black son open your eyes
Don’t be taken by the lie
That without these funds, the preservation
And recognition of your parents will fail,
Let “massa” know you can’t repair history with dough; Not for sale, not for sale.


American Dream

I observe the world
And its humanity
Hustling, scurrying about on a busy city street.
Anguish carving a portrait about their faces
Until it is obvious;
They’re wondering about the next dollar
The next deal, next lady;
The next meal.
Running so fast, yet standing still;
Making little or no progress at all.
Repeating the daily insanities
And calling it living.
Taking their daily dose of misery and stress
To maintain this “American Dream”
Or is it really a nightmare.
We are indebted to our own lusts
That is so graciously loaning us the energy
Yet withholding its hand
To its plan to destroy our souls.
American dream, how can I dream?
When my eyes find no sleep?
And my soul no rest.
Dreams…with no rest.


I Am…Invisible

I bless you, but you find the words to curse me,
in spite of
I give my everything, with no conditions, prerequisites or strings
I bear your weights, worries upon my heart and my shoulders
My body is bowed, back aches when, I, stand
But still...I receive nothing

In the morning,
my eyes and heart anticipate your rising;
to smell your fragrance in my air,
Its what I wait for.
But when your feet hit the floor
they continue about until they carry you out
the door...not even a hello

I Am, become invisible
to touch, to feel , to love
I Am, invisible
Incapable by nature to be seen…Invisible
I Am, as the air you breathe
Invisible, Invisible.


Letter to my child

I heard you cry last night
I rushed to tend to you, and
Realized you weren’t there.
Your memory has conditioned my heart to give
I long to smell your neck
Or stroke the curls of you hair with my fingers
To kiss your cheeks,
Feel your chubby hand upon my face.

I’ve wondered how your lips would have been
Whether your eyes were brown like mine
Or otherwise
If you looked like me or others within
Our family tree
I’ve wished for years you were here now
Even though news of you frightened me
But your presence in my life
Has enlightened me,
To never repeat my greatest mistake.
I allowed my ability to choose
Make me ultimately lose
The greatest gift given to me.

My womb cries for you
Her punishment too great for her to bear.
Her emptiness torments her as years and relationships go by
And still…no you.
Truly you are one of a kind; the Creator destroyed your mold.
See, none has come after you.

You came at a time when pro choice
Was my voice, because being someone’s mom
Just wasn’t important enough.
My goals and career were in the forefront,
And your father, well he was just like me; selfish.
But this blame is mine
To regain the time, in all things
I would reach for you.
With my strength and life, reach for you
You are important and the only true love I lost.
Please, forgive