Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Haven't You Heard?

I've been lookin' for you {Haven't you heard}
I've been lookin' for you {Haven't you heard}
Oh, I've been lookin' for you {Haven't you heard}
I've been lookin' for you {Haven't you heard)
-- Patrice Rushen

I've never been a punk.

Angie's looking for you.

Ok. And?

In high school, our cheerleading captain lived in a ramshackle Tiltin' Hilton that happened to be located on the windy road that everyone from my end of town traveled to get to school.

Nobody would talk about her house to her face, cuz she was a nice girl for the most part. We'd sniggle about it in hushed voices when her ass got on her back and she started to think too gotdamn highly of herself sometimes though.

But my best friend...being the tactless complement to my ig'nant ass proceeded to jone about her one day, as Ang's father pulled up in their ramshackle Lincoln to pick them up.

Damnnnnnnn, said Tray, Her car look like her house.


Niggas fell out laughing. I ain't say shit this particular time because I kinda felt bad for her. Wudn't her fault that her dad drove a piece of shit.

But you know kids are cruel.

Anyway...the next day, somehow the clown got attributed to me.

I assume that they had to put it on somebody, and most folks were skurrrrred of T.

So, I'm at my locker, and I hear,

Angie's looking for you.

And?, I responded.

She heard you was talking about her.

I'm about the ONLIEST person that wasn't talking about her and her poor ass. But ok. Ok. I shut my locker door, and proceeded to homeroom.

Well, look on. I ain't hard to find, I thought.

Why kids do that stupid shit? Running down the hall like some ghetto sentry, talking about

Angie's looking for you.

Fuck I care. Let her ass look.

Guess I was supposed to be scared.

So I'm outside of da club and you think I'm a puuuuuuuunk
So I go to my loaded Tech 9 thats off in the truuuuuuuunk
I told that muthafucka
I ain't never scared (eastside!)
I ain't never scared (westside!)
I ain't never scared (southside!)
I ain't never scared (northside!)
I ain't never scared (southside!)
I ain't never scared (eastside!)
I ain't never scared (westside!)

She rolls up her bubbled-eyed up on me in the locker room before practice. I'm putting on my socks.

So what you gotta say now?

*blank stare*

What are you talking about?


*blank stare*

Ok, cuz I'm not about to argue with this bitch about who said her car was some shit and who didn't.

So what you say?

You tell me.


Tray threw her bag at Angie's feet.

I'LL tell you. I'm the one who talkedtabout you. And. What?

I closed the imaginary piano keys up, and moved out of Tray's way, as she strode about a half'a spit away from Angie's cornea.

Like I said. And. What?

Well, what did you say?, Angie asked, nervously.

I SAY-ED, Tray demonstrated this point and her contempt for Angie by shifting her weight onto her left foot and cocking her head to the side for emphasis, YO'.CAR.LOOK.LIKE.YO'.HOUSE.

*insert standard Southeast grit* <--- don't worry about it if you don't get that reference. Somebody out there from Naylor Gardens, Berry Farms or Simple City knew exactly what I meant.

That's all you could hear. Was ^^^ them muthafuckas.

Angie blinked a few times. I've always assumed that she was blinkin' back tears, but maybe that's because I was blinkin' back tears my damn self. Cuz I was crackin' the fuck UP.

Now that you know, Tray blinked, Uh...was you fixin' to do something about it?

Angie whispered something, but by now, people were clearing the area.

What was that?, Tray antagonized.

Another whisper.

That's what I THOUGHT you was gon' do. Not a GOTdamn thing.

And Tray had a way of saying gotdamn. It wasn't just GOTdamn. It was with all the hock (phlegm, for you proper muthafuckas) she could conjure up in her tho'at and then she just spit that shit out.

Not a GOTdamn thing.

I leaned over and picked up Angie's face for her. Handed it to her.

I'm ig'nant, yet polite as fuck.

They're all gonna laugh at you!

And we did.


Guess the moral of the story is...

Don't look for me.

Haven't you heard?

Monday, August 29, 2005

You and I

Can't imagine how the world would be
If I'd never met you
Don't know how I'd get through

When I need a place to hide away
I've got to run to
Nice to have someone who cares
Your love is my security
Can't you see there could never be...

I'm loving him strong right now.

It can't be fair to have this random, fickle ass woman. Love you one day. Can't stand you the other.

But anytime my world gets shaken up, I can lean back on the relationship that we have built this far.

And it supports.

As rag-tag as it has been over the years, it still catches me.

Anyone else but you
Anyone else but you
Anyone else but you and I

Him: Whatchu doin'?
Me: I'm on the phone.
Him: Ok. Call me back.

*20 minutes elapses*

Me: Whatchu doin'?
Him: On the phone.
Me: Ok. Holler back.

I don't mind sharing him with the world.

I don't own him. But...I belong to him. And

If I ever start to turn away
Let your touch remind me
What I'd leave behind me

I could never find another you
What we have together
No one else could ever know...

I get teary eyed just reading that.

He's allowed me to express my feelings and my love in such an unorthodox manner. Never trying to stifle me or to change me.

I would die spiritually if he didn't allow me to have it just as I have it.

I can't be boxed in. And while someone else might find that to be their greatest relationship fear...'s been his greatest strength.

I'm loving him strong right now.

I need your love to keep me strong
Can't you see, baby, I don't want...

When my aunt died a couple of weeks ago, I only wanted to talk to him.

He was quiet. He was silent. Processing what all of this meant.

We held the phone.

Damn, he said.

We held the phone. And we didn't hang up for an hour.

I didn't want him to come over, but I didn't want to be myself. But I didn't want to talk either.

He knew that.

Underneath private skies
Feel so lost in your eyes
The way it works I don't understand
We must be part of some greater plan
All I know is I will never love
Anyone else but you...

There's no one else for me but he.

I have to admit, it's not this romantic, starry-eyed love. Naw, we're over that part.

But could I walk away from him? No. Ever turn my back on him? No.

It's much more than love. I'm bound to him.

Since I've met him, I've never pictured myself old without him.

Says alot I suppose.

Friday, August 26, 2005

Tick, Tick Bang!

You're such a bombshell,
And if I ever get ya, ever get ya, ever get ya,
There's no telling how long I'd last
Before I tick, tick..bang! All over you
Tick, tick-a-tick...bang, bang! All over u
Tick, tick-a-tick...bang, bang, bang, tick, bang, bang!
-- Prince

Only Prince can make the notion of someone skeetin' all in your face sound hopelessly...romantic.

Tick, tick, bang if you want to.

That'll be the first time you get your ass beat down by a girl.

Unless it isn't the first time.

Ooh, I can't hold it. Ooh, it's getting all over me.
Ooh, I can't hold it. Ooh, it's getting all over me.
-- Prince

Men say some of the most pathetically comical things in the bed.

I'm so easily turned off, so I ask them to be quiet while we doin' it.

Shhh...break it down
I don't want nobody else to hear the sound...
-- Prince

Cuz you liable to say something to fuck up my 'gasm. And all fuckin' and no 'gasm makes Nina cranky as fuck.

Nothing more demoralizing than to see a woman stroke herself to glory, all the while elbowing you in the ribs to "get offa me" cuz your bitch ass couldn't handle the job the FIRST time it was given to ya.

That's why I can't deal with nice guys. Not that I'm not attracted to nice guys. I definitely am. It's my damn mouth.

I'm liable to say ANYTHING out my mouth.

And I happen to like my teeth.

Everybody's got plans...until they get hit. -- Mike Tyson

I think I have a stress fracture in my left foot.

I walk hard as shit. I'on know where I got that from, but when I come through, I'm coming through.

Wait...I think I know when it started. I wanted my butt to jiggle slightly when I walked when I was a teenager, so I had to walk a little harder.

Yeah, that's shit that teenage girls think about and practice to perfect in the confines of their rooms. To jiggle or not to jiggle?

That is the question.

I need to quit it though. Cuz now my ass jiggles whether I want it to or not, and my fuckin' foot hurt.

I need to be walkin' around here like Tinkerbelle before I find myself in a cast.

You're such a queen bee
Let me taste your honey, taste your honey, taste your honey, for it go bad
You're so slippery
Like this chain around my hip, I want a 24k relationship.
So baby don't spit me out
Tick, tick...bang!
All over u...
-- Prince

If you're stupid enough to think that swallowing your spunk means that I...I'm like into you. Ok. Think that.

Maybe it does. But it might not.

Oh...cut back on the beer.

If I had a mind to do evil, I would be a mall-rat feudal lord amidst modern-day serfs.

This lady has the nerve of Moms Mabley with braces to have a tattoo sittin' up on her cankle.

I'm lovin' that little Bobby Valentino junior coon.

I really need some Bobby,
You really need some Bobby (I know)
We all need some Bobby V...
-- Bobby Valentino

I want to sit on his face.

What kind of woman am I? The kind that always wants to rub her labia against some unsuspecting honey's lips?

When you get the answer to that...holler at yer girl.

I need a toothpick.

Thursday, August 25, 2005

The Love Experience

But at least I can say
That I first experienced love through you...
-- Raheem DeVaughn

He was my puppy love. Opposites, we stood on either side of the hallway. Too shy to speak to one another in the presence of others.

But I'd look up and his eyes were on me.

We never even kissed. We snuck down to Stairway 4 better known as Lover's Lane, but couldn't bring ourselves to touch.

We laughed, and then broke out in a sprint to catch our buses.

We'd "meet" at 3:15 pm every evening, and flip our Atari Pac Man games together.

The first to the 100,000 was...was...

I have no idea what we saw in each other.

But our spirits saw that which keeps our friendship energized even after 24 years.

I love him so.

But at least I can say
That I first experienced love through you...

Tray and I had incredible chemistry.

His football player to my cheerleader.

His pecs to my 36D's.

He's the first guy that made me feel like a woman
That touched me like a woman.
That kissed me like I was his woman.

Different schools, and different pressures pulled us apart.

He needed "in school" validation.

I needed "out of school" validation.

Invalidated one of the sweetest loves I've ever experienced.

But at least I can say
That I first experienced love through you...

Part thug, part wounded bird. We found each other while Chuck was backin' it on up, yeah.

Polarized by backgrounds, but crystallized in innocence.

I spent the next 10 years trying to save him.

I remember coming to see him at rehab, just after a long day of work.

Is that your mother, man?
Naw. That's my girl.

Tears seared my cheeks.

Ever tried to love a lost soul?

I don't recommend it.

But at least I can say
That I first experienced love through you...

He was a 4 on a scale of 10.

Not my type, and besides. That nigga had on Lugz.

Da fuck?

I gave him my number, but hoped he wouldn't call.

By happenstance, he phoned me at the time when I needed a friend the most.

Might as well have been him.

So he snuck into my love on a humble.

So sweet was his loving, I often reminisce on his sticky kisses, and his expert manual *ahem* manipulation.

Too emotionally evolved, I had to leave him behind with his tearful "I'm sorry" telephone calls, drive-by visits, and vows to do better.

Hurt my pussy to her heart.

But at least I can say
That I first experienced love through you...

As I wrapped the knife carefully with Bounty, placing it gently in my pocket as not to cut the lining, I realized that I loved him in a totally unproductive way.

Rather than take the hint that circumstances had posed to me, I had decided it better that he take his last breath rather than leave me.

That was also the day I realized that that amount of love is unnecessary and hardly capable of being used in a way to promote growth, development or evolution of people.

I figured that if he were dead, at least I could tell people that you loved me as much as I loved him.

I'm reminded of that every time I look at him.

I see the depth of my insanity in him.

I've experienced
The Love Experience
You should experience
The Love Experience
We're all experiments
In the Love Experience
Just experience
The Love Experience...

I've had my share.

I can like you a whole lot. But that's all I got.

Don't feel bad for me. That's the smartest thing I've ever done.

I'm so good at liking, you wouldn't know the difference.

Feels just like love. But better.

I'm not going to blow up your cell, or call you all kind of sorry bastards when you're not where you said you was gonna be.

I'm not going to be waiting outside your window with a brick and some Kleenex.

I'm not going to ask you to repeat yourself.

I'm not going to try to phone bone with you on and on 'til the break of dawn.

And when it's over, you'll see me erasing the writing off the wall.

It's cool. Really. It is.

A wry smile crosses my lips like an old beat up Nova chuggin' across an intersection when I hear women go on and on about that word.

As though love is some prize.

As though love is some accomplishment.

As though love is their right, and not their privilege.

I don't want to crack their face. Well, actually, I do. But I revel in their stupidity.

Love is not to be fussed over. Love is not to be primped and groomed. Love is not to be rehearsed. Love is not to be captured or conjured.

Love is to be experienced.

Feel it. And then look back and remember it.

That's all you can do with it.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Half A World Away

Don’t close your eyes (half a world away)
We’re all on the run, from something we fear inside (half the world away)
We don’t really know ourselves at all
-- Esthero

I looked at my watch and the time said 6:15 p.m.

The day had progressed in and around me, and underneath me while I was lost in my thoughts.

I had a dream that I walked past an auditorium filled with religious zealots, listening captivated by Joyce Meyers.

I continued to walk.

But woke myself because I was going nowhere.

Who the cap fit, let them wear it -- Robert Nesta Marley

I can't quite understand why women send men pictures of their cunts.

I mean...does that turn you on the thought of him jackin' off to your hairy taco?

You s'posed to feel important if you go to his house and see teeth marks on the Polaroids you mailed to him?

Now, I'm into some freaky shit, but certain shit is just whack.

What's next? Pussy Postcards?

Shit is different indeed.

I lose my cool
Whenever you're around
I can't help myself...

I wish I was game for a threesome. Two men and me.

Bawk. Bawk.

Somebody tell that girl that her ass too big
I give it to her right and she let me live
Can't eat that, cuz there's no relationship
I beat that, the next day you called in sick
-- Ghostface

When I was with Officer Friendly, he used to try to kill me. Coochie would feel like hamburger meat, no bun.

Run home with just enough time to gingerly sit down in a tub of hot water to soak her so I could sit on her for 8 hours, change clothes, and head to the j-o-b.

Roll up into work looking like Beetlejuice.

Addicted to what the dick did, I suppose.

Oh, she may be weary
Them young girls they do get wearied
Wearing that same old shaggy dress, yes
But when she gets weary
You try a little tenderness
-- Otis Redding

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Is Otis talking about...talking about...fuckin'?

Even though Otis wasn't fuckable to me.

With a face like that, I s'pose that muthafucka had to try ALOT of tenderness.

You're as cold as ice
You're willing to sacrifice our love
You never take advice
Someday you'll pay the price, I know...
- Foreigner

If you want an answer today, it's no. But ask me tomorrow. Odds are 50/50 that I may change my mind.

Don't be so shocked.

Love is a gamble.

And scared money can't win.

We don’t really know ourselves at all...

You won't learn anything about yourself hanging around here.


Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Aaah...the Name is Nina, Baby!

Rubber fans...and funketeers...
-- Bootsy

I've got the most giggly, face-blushing crush on this man. I should be shamed of myself.

But I'm not.

I like to lust from afar.

Have you ever looked in a face of age?
Or lend your ear to the what an old man had to say?
Cuz every generation of his life
Reflects a movie scene often more than twice
-- Ronnie Laws

I almost forget how much I love old people when they do something crass like fart in the elevator, or eat their boogers, or cut line at the restaurant. You old, muthafucka...not ignorant of social decorum.

Get in the back of the line, ya cotton ball head.

Who's that lady? (Who's that lady)
Beautiful lady (Who's that lady)
Lovely lady (Who's that lady)
Real fine lady...
-- Isley Brothers

When I walk down the street, Ron sings this ditty to the sway of my hips.

...and oh what a sway it is.

I'm not sure how it looks, but it must be tight.

I turn around like Loretta Divine on "Waiting to Exhale" to see if "their watching."

And yeah...they be watching.

I like big butts and I cannot lie!

Tracey Ellis Ross needs to give me her bubble butt. If I could have requested a butt, I want her butt. It's a lowrider butt. From the waist up, you would never expect for her to have a package behind her like that.

Now I'm not carpet licker. But HER butt? If I was inclined to be a lesbian, I'd wouldn't be happy unless I was touchin' on somebody with a butt like that.

She ain't cute enough for that butt though.

She need to give it to me.

With that butt, I'd be all but a legend.

Does anyone wanna go waltzin' in the garden?
Does anyone wanna go dance up on the roof?
-- Al Jarreau

I'm afraid of heights.

I literally get weak and tingly when I'm within two feet of a ledge or roof edge.

I s'pose if the key to life was on a building ledge, 20 floors above the ground...

I'm one dead bitch.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Mine! All Mine!

Mine! All mine!

I'm very possessive. Yes, I know.

My shit is my shit.


Get your own.

Now I know why I played alone alot when I was a child.

I didn't like to share.

I'm giving of myself...but my shit?



Make Her Feel Good

Is there any boys around
That know how to make a girl feel?
That wanna make a girl feel
Make her feel good?

That's a good goddamned question.

Besides the fact that they need to execute all little dick muthafuckas before they reach the age of 12, they need to start teaching "Basic Touch," "Intermediary Affection," and "Creative Thrusting" at Man School's nationwide.

Tired of pointing, twisting, grimacing...

Put it in right. If you've been moving your hips like that for the last 5 minutes, quit it.

When in doubt, go in circles.


Some girls do
Some girls don't
Some girls will
Some girls won't
Oh Lord...Sanctified

I do. But I won't.

I need a Sanctified Lady
What I want
A Sanctified Lady
Keep me warm
A Sanctified Pussy
Keep me home
A Sanctified Lady
Keep me warm

I've been meaning to ask one of them Mothers of the Church can they suck their husband's dick on Bible Study night.

I'm curious. Fa real.

I went to church and was fed orally the Milk and Honey of the Living Truth, and then you go home and get fed orally the milk and honey of the...

Lord forgive me.

I did date this freak years ago, that at the intermission of his fine dining experience in my pussy, rose up to get a breath and said...

"Taste and see that the Lord is good."

That fuckin' PK (preacher's kid) must not have known that my ignorant ass knew some scripture.

So I told him that I doubt that David intended for his Psalm to be used in that way.

Fucker turned beet read.

So I just raised my pelvis, and told him to bow his head and...

My nail broke.

My OCD is getting worse.

I'm sure that conveys.

Is it a curse?
A mind that processes in verse?

I'm all over the place.

...and you're riding shotgun.

Friday, August 05, 2005

Seconds of Pleasure

Ooh, girl it's what you say between a phrase
It's written in your face
It's rain against a windowpane
The sound it makes
It's dreamin' the day away
It's the shine of a precious pearl
Light of the world
It's the smile of our baby girl
It's finding a moment for a thought so pure
It's a walk along the shore

I want to love an artist.

I want to love a man that can find redemption in the ring I leave in the tub. And wisdom in my pubic bone. And can string my hopes and dreams together with the solitary gray hair growing in my crown.

I want to love him.

I hold on to the feeling
I don't know when I will feel it again
I've become amused by the little things
Seconds of pleasure

I want to suck on his calloused fingers.

Comb the knots out of the hair that he hasn't bothered to wash or comb in months.

Lay in his lap as he pats out rhythms and beats on my belly.

Second of pleasure
Life's little treasures
Second of pleasure
Life's little treasures

I see me climbing into his dilapidated '79 Cutlass Riviera with the faded green paint, and the primed passenger side.

I'd stick my hands into the rips in the upholstery and mend the tears with my adoration of him.

While the Chi-Lites croon "Have You Seen Her" from the eight-track system that he copped from the vintage junkyard, I'll spread my legs wide in the back seat, hoping to be found.

By him.

Ooh, girl, it's small talk
A touch so soft
It's watchin' you walk
It's the taste of a sour pop - a lemon drop
It's the last one in the box
It's a kiss in the mornin' sun
A few minutes of fun
Before you have to run
It's all of the little things that you've done
To ease my burden and my confusion

I won't be able to hardly stand being in his presence, because every time he opens up those lips, I would try to climb into his mouth so I can recline on his tongue.

I'd rub my pelvis against his tonsils...and then perch myself up on his adenoids and climb into his sinuses.

Just want to be in his head.

I hold on to the feeling
I don't know when I will feel it again
I've become amused by the little things
Seconds of pleasure

I want that man to glide inside of me.
I want him to hide inside of me.
Collide inside of me.
Confide inside me.
Oooh, if he would just shed some light inside of me.
Abide inside of me.
Live forever...
...and then die inside of me.

Second of pleasure
Life's little treasures
Second of pleasure
Life's little treasures

Thursday, August 04, 2005


Just like the white winged dove
Sings a song sounds like she’s singing
Oooh, oooh, oooh

So, he wants to go to the comedy show with that prissy nigger and his trophy wife. Ugh. Always tryna impress that nigger. I’on get it. Did he put a root on your ass? Why you gotta impress this nigger every time I turn around. You need to be impressing me.

Shit. I’m the one who’s fucking you.

But he’s too stupid to get that.

Jet Li is still doing roundabouts in this Tiltin’ Hilton uterus of mine, but that muthafucka is getting tired.

I could eat me a nice man thigh right now. With a side of thick.juicy.kielbasa.fingers.

Yeah. Wash it down with his...

*hee hee*

I watch QVC religiously. Rarely buy anything. And I get impatient with all the people calling in. What the hell you callin' in for? Either buy it or don't. Why you gotta compliment Lena on her shirt? Why you gotta brown-nose the hosts?

What's wrong with people?

Ever suckin' up in the ass of another human being. Good grief. Television is the residue of the enema of intellectual thought. Hate it.

But yet...I watch.

Ali Baba smelled SO...damn...good today, I almost put a hickey on his neck. I could just suck the meat right off of his neck. Damn.

...I'm really into skin, and really into smell.

Now that I think about it -- all of the men in my life who I really, really, really FELT for, I mean in love cubed....all had buttery, soft, smooth skin.

Useless correlation...yet, interesting.

I need a hobby.

I'm obsessed with taking clothes to the dry cleaners. I take a load in every few days to have cleaned. I know I'm spending like $75 a week on dry cleaning. And that's with a discount.

Yeah...I need a hobby.

And a dick attached to a mute nigga.

If you don’t want me, then don’t talk to me
Go ahead and free yourself
If you don’t want me, then don’t talk to me
Go ahead with someone else

I crack up every time you call me. Why? Cuz I realize how fuckin’ DUMB you are. You ain’t shit but a nigga from the projects – ain’t never had nothing, ain’t never GONNA have nothing. Type nigga that is gonna be the recessed lighting to his woman’s Van Gogh. A fuckin’ accessory.

And I was into you.

Yeah, I was. Learned a lot from you. Yeah, I did.

Had my ego twisted around my ankles like some crumbled, soiled panties.

So I got over that shit...eventually. Took me a minute though. Haven't seen you in about a year.


But you can stop calling me now. Cuz any day now I’m gon’ crack your face with the truth about what I REALLY think about you.

Back then they didn’t want me
Now I’m hot, they all on me
Back then they didn’t want me
Now I’m hot, they all on me.

You can floss your teeth with my tampon string. See if THAT will get the taste of me out of your mouth.

Just like the white winged dove
Sings a song sounds like she’s singing
Oooh, oooh, oooh