She is the block...
I've chiseled in her 4 ways the
pain release my heart has tried to win
in the "hide & go seek" game of life.

Putting in work like a blacksmith with my hammer pen
carving with every puncture of my point
into those padded walls;
So I continued grinding...

Till my fine point tip
Launch this anticipated ink of joy
plastering those growing eyes I gave her
noticing the satisfaction just painted on and
around this masterpiece in the making.

Far from finished,
but half-way done
the sun of dreams
splashed reality wishes
into my eyes for I can now see
her upper torso alive...to my surprise.

Soaked in Mahogany pigment
BLAZED with nappy Nubian bristles,
Pupils coated from God given Midnight;
Looking like summer tasted this mold of clay,
Gargled to spit a Goddess image b4 me.

My legs like cinder blocks as if limbs where covered with torment
and shock.
Like magic playing "hide and seek" with reality;
this woman, this entity of miracles, this
crevasse anointed master piece of phoenix ash thoughts
began chiseling me limbs back to LIFE!

Any normal man would be in awe of this event thinking,
"what U-ber ill voodoo is taking place in the presence of my person?!"
These fantasies that birthed in my mind has bungee jumped
the walls of life imitating art/art imitating life;

With every stroke of my hammer,
I hear Lucifer's WHISPERS of jealousy in my ear.
Because he couldn't create something like she so
sinfully fantastic; possessing Godiva features
wearing ancestor freedom grins
not even on his worse day!!

How many of us can say that you've
successfully broken silent chambers of loneliness...
with the Heavens above and universe smiling possibilities
for you believe in the impossible?

Because,

"IF YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE,
AND THE PROMISE THAT IT GIVES;

I
WANNA LOVE
YOU
4 LIFE.


CAUSE YOUR
LOVE
IS
WHY I LIVE..."

My Comfort, should be destined happiness
As I stand this Poet-Malion,
shouldn't it...?
I'm so content, that this Aphrodite
induced comatose
state of consciousness,
must be reality.

Because if it isn't...someone please
prepare a casket;
for my heart's trip to the river sticks.

And I'm just a writer.
A bandit brother from Brooklyn;
that wants a love, needs a love
like this....

So unless shes in this room right now...
all I have is
a metaphysical master piece
giving me
Poet-malion
comfort.


-Honest Abe

Copy right 2009