Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Process
I wanna whisper somethin
sweet in your ear
Something that starts
a different kind of beatthat stirs your blood
I want to feel divine expectation
suspended in liquid heat.
I want to taste the salt
that slips down your back
and trickles from
the
tips
of
my fingers
only to find its' way
to waiting lips.
I wanna hear the sound
that orginates
when cool jazz
meets southern fire.
In other words
I wanna be bathed
in
the
steam
we create.
..
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Southern Legacy
I remember momma
When the days are gray
and cold
when the late December skies
spit their South Alabama mixture
of ice and snow
kinda like grits
and I’m not sure what it is
about
these days
that brings this melancholy
except the fact, that despite
the cold and the hardship,
the love and the memories of
soothing hands, always manages
to keep me warm.
and she knew this , that although
her children are facing their own
Winters, a mother’s love
always wraps her babies in a warm
Quilt for wintertime.
this is a mother’s legacy
warm memories for Alabama
days when the skies spit their mixture of
Ice and snow
Kinda like grits.
When the days are gray
and cold
when the late December skies
spit their South Alabama mixture
of ice and snow
kinda like grits
and I’m not sure what it is
about
these days
that brings this melancholy
except the fact, that despite
the cold and the hardship,
the love and the memories of
soothing hands, always manages
to keep me warm.
and she knew this , that although
her children are facing their own
Winters, a mother’s love
always wraps her babies in a warm
Quilt for wintertime.
this is a mother’s legacy
warm memories for Alabama
days when the skies spit their mixture of
Ice and snow
Kinda like grits.
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