Halley’s Comet

I awake to a chill in the air. The skin on my arms is rippled with goose bumps. I try to raise my left hand in order to rub the icy rash from my skin, only to find that I cannot move my arms. Alarmed, my eyes open wide. I see nothing. Immediately I recall the description of the nucleus of Halleys Comet. It is described as the purest of black; darker than coal. I’m engulfed in this velvety blackness. In a panic, my breath quickens and my nostrils are assaulted with a dank odor. As I continue to breathe, I can detect an aroma of moist soil, like the morning after a long night’s rain. Assessing my other faculties, I realize I cannot move at all. My toes feel prickly as if they’ve fallen asleep. But still I cannot do anything to relieve the sensation. I open my mouth to cry for help. But only a faint crackling noise resonates from my throat and stops short of my cracked, dehydrated lips. Apart from the cryptic noise bouncing off of my tongue, I hear nothing. There is dead silence. There is no background noise that can clue me in as to where I am. The more I try to scream, loose particles begin to fall into my mouth. I’m choking on a granular mildew of flavors. It keeps falling down onto my face and filling my mouth, stinging my eyes and scratching my nose. Hours seem to pass as my vain attempts at calling for rescue bring my mind to the brink of exhaustion. As I concede my fate, I’m overwhelmed with a euphoric wave of warmth throughout my body. My limbs tingle with vibrating heat. I feel like a junkie who just popped my last vein. Eyes closed, cheeks swollen with soil, I return to sleep. I’m gliding though space. Orbiting on the tail of Halley’s Comet.


Sanguine Blades

We were as green
As that immature leaf
Unsampled and discarded
Then the sun smiled
Over and again
Canary, gold, orange, crimson
Warming our faces
Sprinkling star dust
onto our shoulders
Ripening the fruit embedded
beneath our ribs
Until dahlia vines grew around us
Binding, cementing our fate
Budding red leaves sprouting
out thru our pores
Inviting, encouraging
we tasted the blush
of Delectable Euphoria



PHAT Gyrls, can i get a wit-ness!?

Despite my better judgement I went shopping in the mall today(I’m an avid online shopper).  Walked into one of the more prominent “fat girl” shops.  I was simply in search of a full-length slip but couldn’t resist noticing the latest fat girl trends on display . Now Ladies, if you are of the more fatter persuasion as i am myself, please be aware of the smear campaign being waged against us in our own beloved stores.  The clothes were colorful and very well pattered in the old school theory of bright colors and patterns distract from the fat bulges underneath them.  Yet they made a bold and almost obscene move, to emphasize all of our “problem areas” with cinches, elastics, netting, and shear disaster! My dear and sweat fellow fat (phat) sisters, don’t be fooled.  They don’t have our best interest at heart.  They aren’t just trying to keep us up to date with the rest of the fashion (trendy) world.  They want to re-assure themselves that they are superior to you by making you dress like clowns!. A skinny dress on a stick figure mannequin is NOT the same look  achieved with a skinny dress on a “healthy girl”.  The industry wants us to mimic the skinny (poor) girl fads, constantly wishing we looked like them or lying to ourselves that we do. 
We are PHAT & BEAUTIFUL.  We need to know and embrace our bodies and accept them for all that Allah(swt) has allowed us to do in them.  Get to know each and every bulge and bump.  Figure out for yourselves which ones you want to express in your style.  Oh and sisters, get the “girls” fitted into the right size bra.  A well fitted bra can take 15 lbs off your chest and get your “friends” to stop calling you “Hunchback” behind your hunch.  I suggest we all become not critics but our own professional fashion STYLISTAS. I will not copy a trend that only makes me look sad, desperate and BLIND.I love all my jiggly parts.  I’m just not trying to jiggle um for the whole WORLD to see…and since when did a full-length slip equate to a camisole that barely reaches below the butt?   I’m disgruntled.



I lay awake, perspirated,
eyes dilated,
self-aided yet still frustrated,
feeling emaciated,
needing to be hydrated -with -your -LOVE -unsatiated.
Remembering the unequated,
to be penetrated,
ejaculated and saturated,
then, the swell of the procreated.
I long to be pollinated -by -you -again.
As I ruminated rhythms palpitated,
curtains closed,
darkness concentrated,
essence of my yearning emanated and vibrated –against -the -WALLS.
Lingering scent of incense incinerated,
lips part for the accommodated,
undulated and unadulterated,
desires asphyxiated,
words unarticulated.
The sun rises over me accusingly.
Alienated for having deviated,
In want of being validated,
the void commiserated because it’s -Complicated.
Though opportunity to be captivated
and ravishingly consecrated,
I have duly abated -discombobulated.
Fast forward time, accelerated.
Return of my king celebrated.
We be consolidated,
me elated, you -fellated.
My thirst quenched and evaporated.
Intensity of intimacy not hallucinated.
We float in delicious -af -ter -glow.
The sun will be left to weep inadequated.


2 addicts should never be friends
Recreational encouraging
11 days sober
To stay clean but
Temptation wins
Both anticipatin the artificial insemination
Of a temporary pleasure
And when it goes down
They crawl from their warm n fuzzy
oh so
Happy places
Disgrace smeared like shit
on their faces
Pointing fingers at each other
Claiming it was the other Motherfucker who initiated it
They cry and beg for forgiveness
Then make a gang of false promises
But never gettin what they seek and
Not hearing what they speak
The only truth spit from their lips is
“Same time, next week”


My son has an imaginary Daddy
With whom he takes on imaginary trips
Adventures to imaginary lands
And sails on imaginary ships
He’s created his own world
Where fathers don’t abandon their sons
Here he can admire the man
That he’s one day destined to become
My son has an imaginary Daddy
A Daddy who lives in his dreams
His Daddy shows him right from wrong
And many wonderful things


A warm ocean breeze is washing over my face and gently brushing the hairs at the nape of my neck

Whispering in a tongue alien to my ears but as familiar as my mother’s womb to my heart

The sea’s waves are rising and falling against my ribcage dictating my breathing pattern with its pressure

As the tide approaches the shore a tickling stirs in my abdomen as if descending on an amusement park ride

The water is dancing on the sand tauntingly, yet demanding the respect it deserves
Relaxing I can already feel its preamble of tentacles, moist and preparing

The intensity of the waves’ motion is increasing, growing massive in height and might
This can only mean the tide will be reaching me shortly

Soon I will be engulfed in a tropical sea
My breathing synchronizing
The mist chanting sweetness in my ear
And the words once alien to me becoming my mother tongue


Over Reacting

15 Hours and 56 minutes since we last spoke
Was hoping to hear from you when I awoke
I reset my phone cuz maybe it’s broke
Now its 16 hours &1 minute and this ain’t no joke

Did something bad happen for me to worry
Maybe you had to leave town in some big hurry
Or were you arrested or abducted in a flurry
Is there a perpetrator out there I need to bury

Were you in some sort of accident
Are you laid out in pain on the pavement
Have you broken bones that need to mend
Are you wrapped up in a plaster encasement

Don’t tell me SHE came back and stole you away
I put it on you too good for you to stray
My heart can’t take you leaving me today
If so tell her run cuz I don’t play

16 hours 12 minutes and still no you
I’m getting restless but what can I do
Said you’d be back but so far not true
My imagination has got me coming unglued

If someone hurt you they better flee
Cuz I won’t show them any mercy
Got my backup and I’m in a taxi
187 on whoever took you from me