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he turned her into a housewife
she spent hours cleaning the blood from her panties
the floors and dishes never had seconds
the rule had been set in place for reasons
they kept her eggs from being fertilized
we don't need no mo' immaculate conceptions
she had already pulled one dead rabbit from a hat left hanging from her knob
but couldn't tell if it belonged to tom dick or harry - the tricks and the johns
the hats - not the rabits
and any new rabbits would need owners
he turned her into a housewife
and birthed babies who'd never love men right
daughters who'd pray sons stretched forth so they wouldn't be raised the same
daughters who'd forgive her for not teaching them to recognize bullshit men
and one daughter who'd fogive her for not always being a housewife
she's been a housewife so long she's taught herself to tend to things
and every now and then she tends to forget her past life belongs to jezebel
and there's nobody to blame but him
I saved room on my left wrist
Hoping you’d occupy the space before we’d occupy the outskirts of Kenya
In rooms full of voyeurs we’ve made love like the exhibitionists we are
We’ve put on shows and left sweat dripping from microphones and nose tips
Somewhere between the first and fourth jazz selection I decided there was a part of you I no longer wanted to share with the on-lookers
The part of you that laughs at black folks making fools of themselves instead of lifting arms and fingers
The part that sleeps in the front seat during cross-country trips just to see how the sun sets in the west
There’d be no houses to wife
Just journeys through shoulder-high grass on our ancestors marrying place
Window seats to occupy when the weather needs changing
And waters to flow past our ankles on Sundays as we fish
I’m giving you the window seat because my head leans left when I sleep
And your right shoulder reminds me of a comfort zone I knew one life ago
The second time we met
The first time we grew old together and my memory was buried with me
But that much I know
I’ll trade in Nina for conversation over a 5am breakfast before our pilgrimage up Kilimanjaro
I’ll toss out Miles and Coltrane for a few seconds consisting of whispers under willows and heavy breathing under stars
To discover you new I will forget all previous words spoken
So over time the language we create will be all we know
My proposal is a part of the me wanting to be picked apart by the you that accepted
The room saved on my left wrist
Will not allow this life to pass until it is occupied
this is how I prey she said.
she said I preyed on women.
she said I was not so much infatuated with them as I was with their power, and I nodded my head – agreeing.
I could accept that.
I didn’t plead my case I listened.
she went on.
she said I was so in love with their power that I began stealing bits and pieces of it, leaving them with less and less...
she said I found myself less and less in love with them and more and more in love with myself…or the new power I now had.
I nodded slow and cleared my throat.
she went on.
she said I loved what they women stood for.
what they controlled.
what they could do with the power they had.
I smiled.
then she said I prey on these strong women.
not so much intentionally.
she told me I love strong women and in my search for the strongest, I put them through tests.
each woman thus far has failed.
she said this:
you’ve let these strong women fall for you and simultaneously you’ve taken all their power, control and metaphorical legs.
and you realize that a STRONG woman would never allow that to happen.
so you don’t love them anymore.
and that’s the way it happens with you, she said.
but there are strong women out there.
you just have to prey.
What The Fuck Am I Doing Writing A Note?
Well...Here It Goes: (keeping it short)
John Legend is either a genius or a little man living inside my head writing out my thoughts and making them sound better than any tune I'd attempt to make...
I was sitting back listening to a cd I made from my iTunes of all his best hits and each of the songs would describe some shit I've been thinking about.
A few minutes I was sitting back listening to 'doing it again' and i wanted to send an email or IM or pick up the phone and just say "fuck all the shit in the way...the 3000 miles...the he say she say...the stupid shit and let's do it again."
...but i think all you would have said was "get some rest. i'm sorry." and that would drive me fucking crazy...
so i write this note and hope that you know it's to you and you say something that'll make shit alright.
but knowing you, you'll go on and say something like "...today was a great day. i ate lunch for the first time at..." and this will go over your head.
so...
this is the end of this note.
*if you were tagged to this note, it simply means you are just as crazy as i am...or you were on my mind*
*ordinary people just came on...damn*
