i put my fingers there, the way i dip into abuelas paella. hot sauces of real tomatoes, stir into cool sausages and peppers, with mussels over the yellow rice.i dip my fingers way into the beautiful hole.pulling out my own sauces, smelling my fingers for identification. i am hungry. i lick the sides and the top and the middle the way he does. wait 'til abuela sees what i've done to the sheets. "dirty little whore". it is possible, but i don't think so. i think she has been hiding this moment for far too long. and even now...he is missing from my hole, where his lips pull things out and his tongue pushes to compete with my growing center swelling like the inside of an avocado ready to be cut. no...i am no whore. i am the product of his pleading in the night, after the music has faded, and the papis have slammed the domines down on the tables for the last time as the lights dim. i am the product of the last calls to come and take baths that never wash away the sticky memory of Now & Laters stuck to the roof of our mouths while he calls for me to come here for a second, "before u go upstairs Nia". he is big and brown. green green eyes. "no he ain't dominican" my cousin reminds the crew, as if i care. as if that will stop me.as if his tongue will taste a WHOLE different flavor from our puerto rican ones. "Nia hurry up", ...."no...u guys go...i'll catch up".....i'm not going to deny myself this moment.

since then...i can not sleep. since then my fingers guide themselves, pulling the sangria from me...making me drunk and incoherent.

he told me i taste like the sweet platains he buys three for a dollar in la marqueta. so sweet, he says , that he can smell my coming even before i tremble.


when the policia came to fetch as he ran into the bodega...
i stood at the corner crying like his widow.

my hole does not speak .
-------------

kimabe 2006

if you didn't define yourself for yourself you'd be crunched into other peoples fantasies of you an eaten alive.

audre lorde

So many lines i can't even name them all-but the way you tell this story the language is powerful, because you tell it with the poetic eye. And the last line is so real. I love it!

http://worthwatering.blogspot.com
Can it be I stayed away too long?/
Did I leave your mind when I was gone?/
It's not my thing trying to get back/
But this time let me tell you where I'm at-- Jackson Five

thank u for tuning in..and for your continued insight...miss k

if you didn't define yourself for yourself you'd be crunched into other peoples fantasies of you an eaten alive.

audre lorde

I don't know what folks are taking to sleep on this...wating for part 2...

http://worthwatering.blogspot.com
Can it be I stayed away too long?/
Did I leave your mind when I was gone?/
It's not my thing trying to get back/
But this time let me tell you where I'm at-- Jackson Five

since i've been on these boards for many many years...it's always been like this for me...at first i would get irritated and then i decided...do i want to be a crowd pleaser or a writer?....so i write(smile)...and with good folk like you supporting me...i will continue to write and succeed at it...good lookin' out...miss k

if you didn't define yourself for yourself you'd be crunched into other peoples fantasies of you an eaten alive.

audre lorde

loved these lines:

no...i am no whore. i am the product of his pleading in the night, after the music has faded, and the papis have slammed the domines down on the tables for the last time as the lights dim. i am the product of the last calls to come and take baths that never wash away the sticky memory of Now & Laters stuck to the roof of our mouths while he calls for me to come here for a second, "before u go upstairs Nia"

and the pictures painted, do i really need to say just HOW vivid they were? ha~ always a pleasure to read...

--------------------------------------------------
Pinwheels and HulaHoops|the book
http://www.lulu.com/content/132318
http://msmind.blogspot.com|the life

l'amour est la médecine fidèle d'un dieu.
he has me tucked and folded ©the best part

ha ha...for you i always come with the goods...smooches...kima

if you didn't define yourself for yourself you'd be crunched into other peoples fantasies of you an eaten alive.

audre lorde

You paint so well with so few lines. I love the vividness of this piece and the raw quaity of emotions. I have always loved your work...

Peace
Kitkat

If fucking were graceful, I'd be your dancer

I have boarded the train to nowhere waking up to find myself somewhere

------------------------------
Something like Eldridge
Cleaver meets John Lennon

nice to see you guys on the reply...like i said to ms. mimi...i write for the ones that aren't afraid to step outside the box...thanks fr the love... miss k

if you didn't define yourself for yourself you'd be crunched into other peoples fantasies of you an eaten alive.

audre lorde

I will always dig storylines from you but this one was so funky, you Pinero'd it lol.

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

i just want chu to know
how i feel
how i feel

this is one of spice and edge. i could see, smell, even taste altho tho i didnt want to. nice work.

@asiaradiant

yeah...the colors and imagery of this piece are definitely magnetic...continue the movement...peace

IM DIGGING THIS....

Deepthought

"When I hear wack rhymes, I get fed up"- Krs-One

"Even when I'm bragging, I'm being sincere"-LL

Verse One:

Could you tell me who released our animal instinct?
Got the white man sittin' there tickled pink.
Laughin' at us on the av

A DELIGHTFUL dish -- Served hot! --

"he told me i taste like the sweet platains he buys three for a dollar in la marqueta. so sweet, he says , that he can smell my coming even before i tremble."


This whole joint was savory & sensuous -- But the above lines rocked me back & forth! -- *whewwww*

A guitar string vibrating, a measure of my soul, a breech in the silence --
I've always felt like words come through me & I write them down... they have no master --- gsquared ♥

http://www.soundclick.com/bands/2/photosynthesis_music.htm

are so politically incorrect, but include:

If I open the book up to any page, and find that the words are not fresh, hot, moving, telling, urging, or awakening,

or if

I find that the writer does not tell a story

or if

I find that the writer is *talented* but does not tell a story

or if

I find the writer is talented and does not tell a *true* story, no matter how fictionalized it is

or if I am just plain bored with the words again

I'd put it down. It could be a celebrated work of art. It could be breathtakingly reviewed. I could be just as uncouth and unacculturated as my lil country, non published self wants to be, and I would still remain uninterested and unashamed.

That said--
I would buy this if this were a book, in the store, right now, based only on what I read. Take it for what it is worth.

http://worthwatering.blogspot.com
Can it be I stayed away too long?/
Did I leave your mind when I was gone?/
It's not my thing trying to get back/
But this time let me tell you where I'm at-- Jackson Five

i really don't even know how to respond. it's strange because i've been away from the boards for a minute...because my life needed a "timeout"....but it's nice to come back and read these responses because it's been awhile since i've written...so maybe these psitie words will jumpstart a fresh start....thank u ...miss k

if you didn't define yourself for yourself you'd be crunched into other peoples fantasies of you an eaten alive.

audre lorde

and wow again...

damn.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
To change, we must face the dragon of our appetites with another dragon... the life-energy of our Soul...

this is the sweetest way to make pain tastefully sweet and acceptable to digest...

beautiful imagery and abstract foreplay... powerful sista...

this one gets the nobel...

blood

i'm not a hoe

widow

my hole does not speak.

wow.

*picking mouth up off the floor now*

MUSE

...
..
.

Speak and it shall manifest
Breathe and it shall live
Love and it shall triumph
Give and it shall never be
lost... ever... - MarcArthur
St. Juste

"not one voice unheard" -
VOICES NYC (Brooklyn, NY)

HALLELU YAHWEH! AMEN

Visual as usual...reminds me of prject poetry before they become ghetto loves songs....

wow...that is so cool what you said...i have to marinate on those words ...thank u...kima

if you didn't define yourself for yourself you'd be crunched into other peoples fantasies of you an eaten alive.

audre lorde

.........u are a mess...i'm just trying to dig a little deeper...kima

if you didn't define yourself for yourself you'd be crunched into other peoples fantasies of you an eaten alive.

audre lorde

And though it's already been said,
I'd buy your book--two copies, even.

_____________________

...as if would close them,
as if suddenly ashamed for his own nakedness...

•Carl Phillips

the images are so egregious it seems as tho there is something violant and sensual, explorative and offensive, intentional and obscure...which simply makes excellent writing
masterful.

"keep pennin till the earth birth's your rightful seed then nurture it wit more ink..."
ASIEM
"Kuun fiyah Kuun" Quran
(Be and it is)
" A writer takes his pen to write the words again that all in love is fair" Stevie Wonder