|
Making Love Poem
Now, I could lay your body down Unclothed Silken with oiled perspiration Resting on mink blankets
I could sing rain poems While everyone’s favorite Nag Champa Coats bedroom air Like sheets we’re about to ruin
I could make language Turn tongues Mixing cussing with religion Pulling Halleluiahs From nectar’ed core Of Georgia peaches
I could tell you My essence was brimstone Striking the womb Causing my earth To give birth To fire
I could… But ah, what that got to do with love? When loyalty is a cat Coming home After pussy footing ‘Cause the sex was good
When young sis licks dicks On first dates Baiting Jiggas To bust Crystal nuts On chicken foreheads Or four chicken heads High and contorted in closets Manage trios be their innocence Forever lost in locker room short stories
Nah shawtie… I ain’t the one for making love- Physical
If I’m gonna make love, I’m gonna make love Real I’m gonna make it Spiritual Like monks on Himalayan Peaks Sipping spring water After praising the Sun Moon and Stars I’m gonna make it last… Not like Keith Sweat ballads Or snores and cheese omelets breakfasts But last like making love jump brooms As if I were Kunta and she, Maggie Giving birth to Kizzies So the future could have my eyes
All I know is, right now All folks do is make love Fashionable Scantily clad rappers, dancers, singers and actors On channel…yep that’s it, All of them And since when you gotta be naked To sell or drink beer Or brush teeth Going from decent To desen-sitized I remember covering my eyes When titties popped out of movie screens But now we got thirty year old men “feeling on the boo-hoo-tie” of our children raping the beauty from their spines and snatching age away like a stolen kiss
Nah boo Fah don’t make love Entertaining I don’t lick clits Cause it ain’t a body part to me To me, that’s home Where it all started, And that’s where I rest at I don’t do doggie style Cause I ain’t a Pit And she ain’t a bitch But I will caress black moons Cascading waves through Vertebrae electricity Understand, What I do for she Goes beyond words Beyond sound And quite frankly, It’s none of ya’ll business ‘Cause Fah don’t make love Public access Telling all my friends The blow by blow (pun intended) Ya’ll don’t need to know If she screamed cried Sighed or laughed (cause a brother had one of those days…) Ya’ll don’t need to know If she’s freaky, meek, Loud or good ‘Cause love has no Adjective, noun or verb greater So in what words or stories will You find a comparison?
See folks, Somewhere along the way Love got exposed to the Sun Like Magwi Turning sex into a gremlin With suspense repercussions
But to me It’s more It’s without connotations No preconceived notions See, me and she… Made love Out of conversation I loved her thoughts before I thought of loving her body
And probably, This planet would rock In tastier grooves If we took ours Into arms and made love Last… © Fahim Malik Nassar 26 April 2002
www.anthologyfmn.com
Enter the Written World of Fahim Malik Nassar
The House of Caine (available)
Melancholoy Funk (available)
Tha Anthology (Words 2001-2003) Poetry inspired by OKP and Wash, DC (available)
The Spook who sat by the Radio Poetry (av
|