That Love Jones Type Shit

Understand

That I am going to undress you

With my intellectual conversation

because mental stimulation is where we both need to feel

penetrating Sensation

and you just stepped through a door

with your 'clothes' hitting the floor

and your body is waitin'

As you sit there feeling, naked

feening for me to take it to the core.

Understand that it is so easy to get caught up

In these feelings that we will soon feel

As it reaps to rape the hell out of us

leaving us weak

unknowing of exactly how to deal.


So we twist and equate this

To a hunger game for LOVE

And trust me baby Im not here to judge

But I doubt your ready to play me-- for  REAL love.

In the mean time

You'll let me make love to your mind

In an Adina type slow grind.

But Im not here to get nasty this time.

So let me rewind.

I promise to dress you with words

That you have NEVER heard

And I will take you to places

That only your MIND prefers

I'm not saying I don’t want your body in it

But I'd rather

Give you this experience

Where my thoughts --collect

And your mind becomes erect

To what I have to say.

So.

are you trying to stay

I think so, but before we go

I need to let you know

you gotta travel by sea

If you wanna rock the boat with me

Sea the waters between us

Can be so dense

that’s why im here to

Give your mind something those other women missed.

So can you handle IT

IF I go there baby with you.

I know your body can take it

but whose to say your -mind- will make it

Because I highly doubt that  you are through.


And don't lie,


Look me in the eyes so I can feel your truth


And I'll ask again

Is it possible

to have that

Love Jones type shit --with you







Disclaimer:  I wrote this piece in a 20-minute time spand because THAT is what I do . I collected my thoughts on paper to express a piece of me. We get so caught up in the physical, but I believe there is nothing more sexy sustaining and real, than focusing on what people do for your mind. Especially when it comes to relationships and/or people that we interact with. If you really want to go places with someone, you need to take it to a deeper level. And to behonest, many people arent ready for that and most don't know how to receive that Love Jones type of shit.  Some say they want it, but they not ready.

Peace

"If you want to drink the water, I'll get you a straw."

                That is exactly what my new swim instructor told the class my first day of my second attempt at learning how to swim. You would think at 26 years old learning to swim would have been something I accomplished years ago. Sort of like learning to ride a bike.  Well, riding a bike came easy.  But when I attempted learning how to swim at 10 years old, it was a complete disaster. I remember my instructor back then telling me to jump into the deep end and grab the wall. She went with the Nike attitude. Just do it, right? Wrong. I jumped in and I missed the wall completely. I remember someone pulling me out and laying me on my backside as I heard someone saying, who knows CPR. What kind of place was I in? Shouldn't these people KNOW how to do CPR? Well needless to say I coughed a couple of times and the little water that had me feeling constricted came rushing out of my lungs before anyone could try and use me as a CPR test dummy. I think after that I was left with a bad memory of learning to swim, and I never went back. Fear can hold us back from a lot of things in life. I would not be human if I didnt have any.
Before I could even get into the pool yesterday, I was mortified at the thought of what I had to wear. Now mind you, I am in great shape, I never fear people looking at my body one bit. So the one piece swimsuit from Walmart was not the issue (though I must admit, I wish I still had my sexy Nike one piece that I had for swim classes I was suppose to start a couple of years ago.) But this wasn't the beach. This was CLASS. And I was about to be schooled. Not only did I have to wear this 'ride up your behind' one piece, but I knew I needed to wear a swim cap as well. My hair is as wash and wear as you can get, but chlorine is so damaging to hair. So I knew better. Let me just say that putting on a swim cap is like trying to fit an undersized condom where it needs to go. The attempt at putting it on correctly took me about ten minutes and I still had mounds of hair sticking out the back of the cap. Somehow I prevailed. And with one minute left before class started, I looked in the mirror and said, 'I look like a sperm.'

I grabbed my towel and headed out.

When I got by the pool I remember just how much of a germaphobe I can be. I wanted to wear my flip flops until I was so close to the pools side it would be like we were inseparable. But the bench was far from pool side and the walk from that bench to the pool was so uncomfortable. You know that feeling of walking into a water park changing area where thousands of people drip water from their bodies and the ground is looking like a disgusting sewer? Maybe you don't. But most people do, and the idea that my feet were steadily treading along in that made me think I was walking in dog shit the entire way to the pool.

Class finally started and we learned the basics. One basic I learned was that my new instructor was 67 years of age and he talked the entire first 15 minutes of class. A history lesson I suppose. We learned how to go under the water, float, kick, push off, breathing under water, you know, 'the basics.'
I did well. And I think I did so well that my instructor felt comfortable enough midway during class to call me out in front of everyone. He exclaimed that I had great form, and that he believed that it is very possible that I am the type of person who does know how to swim, but the idea of using what I know while in the deep end of the pool was frightening for me. And he was right.

In January of this year, I sat down and made a list of all of the things I wanted to accomplish by the end of 2011. Things that I had always wanted to do, but perhaps never made time for. I found that the more you write things down, the more likely they will happen. And learning to swim was definitely on my list. What also pushed me into learning properly all of the techniques involved with swimming, is the headlines from the newspapers all summer. So many kids dying from random pool accidents. And believe it or not a lot of the children who drowned, were African American. So that struck a cord with me.

I went to the beach a couple of weeks ago and I watched a little Asian girl dive into the forceful ocean waves, her father standing their closely, watching and telling her not to go out too far. She couldn't have been more than 7 years old.  Yet while on the sidelines my baby cousin was standing close to me on shore, holding my hand with a grip so tight, afraid, as if  just one touch of the water was going to take her away. I questioned then, why is it that so many African Americans don't know how to swim? Was it lack of interest? Was it a life skill that we felt was not a necessity in order to survive? Was it the fear that I had for all these years?? Whatever it was and still is, I knew that things needed to change for me.

It has only been week one of swimming and I am very interested to see if I will be an Olympic swimmer by the end of August. Who knows. But I do hope that someone reading this may think about the fact that their child or children do not know how to swim. Perhaps you are my age or older and will really look into learning something that I think is so important for every person of any race to know. And no matter how tiring, frightening and uncomfortable it may be as the weeks go on, I always finish what I set out to do.
Each time that I will get ready for class, and I look into that mirror and shake my head as I see a sperm standing their ready to take action, I will think of my goal and  remind myself of singing Dora from the movie 'Finding Nemo'  ---"Just keep swimming."

When the rainbow ISNT enough

I finally sat down to watch Tyler Perry's 'For Colored Girls'.  I didn't find myself rushing to theaters to see it during its opening weekend . One reason being I always seem to be the magnet that draws the one person who loves to talk during the entire movie.  The thought was grooling, especially in knowing what a powerful piece it would hopefully be.  When I first heard about Tyler Perry  putting together his rendition of the book 'For Colored Girls who have Considered Suicide When The Rainbow is Enuf.', I paused. I kept thinking, so far this man has been so successful at helping to bring back a lot of good black films, please God let him truly bring alive Ntozake Shange's work. Call me a nerd, but I am a stickler for reading books before seeing the movie. Now a days movies are put out so fast, I find myself having to read the books after, or even putting off reading it in the future. But with all of the power behind the human imagination, seeing the movie before the book can certainly alter your perception beyond what anyone might think.

                        I heard rave reviews after opening weekend. So many people had negative responses.  What I heard from the mouths of most people, 'Its just like the movie 'Precious'. You only want to see it once.'  Now I remember seeing the movie 'Precious' and I did say to myself, I probably won't buy this on DVD, only because I knew I didn't need to watch a movie about something that happens every day in this country behind closed doors. Movies are simply here to bring forth visual to that. I watch the news enough to get the picture. Trust me.

In the forefront of my mind as I am listening to the reviews and the critics,

I am thinking, there is no WAY you can get a room full of talented, amazing, beautiful and god gifted black women on a set, and not produce magic.

That's impossible.

Before I knew who the cast consisted of, I prayed that Tyler Perry would choose WISELY.

I had an idea from past roles in other movies, which black women I felt would truly BRING IT, and leave us never forgetting. Kimberly Elise was the first name that came to mind. And there she was, showing the world what a black mother must endure, during what I consider the most heart wrenching part of the movie. How do you come back to life, after being drenched in such a devastating memory of your children? The moment I really listened as Phylicia Rashad's character said to her 'baby, you can't be living to die.' And the first thought in my mind is, where are neighbors like this, when our black women are going through moments in time like this every day, where are our neighbors who come to bring light to the strife they are facing? Today, most times we are neighbors who don't know one anothers name , as we  pass one another on the streets nearby .

The theme 'Everybodys got a story to tell'

sang loudly throughout each story that was told.

Rape, murder, HIV, lies, betrayal, abuse, denial--just a few of the myriad of things that in reality continuously plagues our community today. The wounds of these secrets we try to keep are so "deeply rooted" for so many black women. To save face

we often find ourselves throwing glitter in the air. A way of  distracting the world from our truth. But its all there. 

'Somebody almost walked off wid alla my stuff.' I will say, Loretta Divine definitely set a tone for that poem in the movie. Not only did I laugh at her whimsical character, but you find yourself really listening, as you realize that these are not just scripted lines throughout the movie, these are poems, the voices, the unheard scriptures of black women.

Poetry is our religion. 

Poetry is our 'Sister Circle', that stands so easily unlinked in our world.

And most importantly poetry is our voice.

And I think what is to be understand from the book as well as the movie is this--

Our colored girls are still out here, considering suicide everday, and the rainbow is not enough.

                              If we as a black community do not attempt in coming together,

to heal, protect ,provide, and improve something that has gone on for so many years and will continue to go on, then we will always stay shackled and scorned as a people where we are, as we are, and live our lives watching the rainbow, pass us by.

  :::KG::::

Im no Zane. But did you want more?

....at the conception of pure unfiltered sweetness, I found myself filled at heightened levels of a sugar rush and before I could retrain my body from falling into this abyss, I let my hands guide us along. ..Breathing her into me as I collapsed her backside into both of my cusped hands. Her lips froze the chatter in my teeth as I attempted to ask questionably 'am I moving too fast.' A sudden thrust in her pelvis gave me the answer to my unspeakable question.  My finger tips became investigative along the sway of her backside as our bodies became aggressively inclined to what we were feeling so strongly for one another.  I began to feel the drip of my clocks tower begin to melt down  as I realized---it was about that time..

The thick syrup of her lips gloss started to slide down, and began to fill the dimpled part of her chin. An appetizing moment allowed me to unstrap this lip renegade, as I began soaking up a sinfully tasteful opportunity.

Stretched waves of fruitfully quinching passion led her to lay, navel first, as clothes began to lift, from a gravitational pull. My hand next to her temperature changing skin, I slowly pushed the front of my body along her deeply curved backside.

Reaching down gently, my lips slid across the warm tattooed symbols on the back of her shoulders. I began to feel as though her body was speaking a different language to me. NAM MYOHO RENGE KYO....

It pays to be bilingual.

Quivering, I watched as her body awaken like the uncocooing of a butterfly.

She allowed the inside of her arms to rest faithfully on the cool of my egyption sheets.  I traced the outline of her arms, and soon found our hands locked together, thriving off of one another strength, in order to hold on to this unreleasing moment...

***

I have a natural ability when it comes to putting together a lil sumthin' sumthin' in the erotica genre .But its more of a hidden talent. I write about any and everything. Politcal, Social, Sexual, Casual, you name it.

Those who have followed my writings closely over the years, know.

But it is something I would like to eventually put together into a collection of short stories.

I have found over time that people enjoy erotica. Especially, my black women. Sex sells.

But more importantly, so does good writing.

I purchased a book of erotica a year ago and I thought I was in for a treat.  It was money down the drain. And to think---Zane was the editor of those various authors who submitted their individual short stories.

When you would rather read your own writings versus those endorsed by a well known author, maybe its time to look into getting your self out there. Slowly, Im putting myself out there. Im ready to give more avid readers exactly what they want.

-Kg



'We compare ourselves amongst ourselves'

Lauryn Hill's MTV Unplugged No. 2.0  always hits that spot for me. You know--that spot that on a sappy hot summer day, only a cold cold ice dripping coca cola classic, IN THE CAN, can hit? Its that thing that tastes so good it makes you close your eyes for a second and you sort of wish you could just lay nestled in that moment.  But its just one of those pleasurable things you should only experience every once in a while otherwise-- you wouldn't appreciate it. When you listen to Lauryn, you get a feel for-- whats real. Alot of people don't know whats real until they are truly stripped of everything, left barren and naked in the world. The media makes us think things that most times should only exist in story books. The true visuals of that 'happily ever after' phenomena. She reminds, as she sits on stage with only her voice and guitar, that everything we see with the eye, and hear with the ear, is a lot of times a facade. I mean think about it. Celebs seek out to make those who don't hide behind shades, believe that what glitters IS gold, and that Hollywood is the visa that takes you everywhere you wanna be.

So many people falling into the music videos and  the television shows, not stopping until they officially get stamped as "Hollywood". Their vision is so tunneled that they forget to glare off and see reality. Ms. Hill reminds us that we, always thought we could get reality by just putting on the clothes and wearin’ the face . And that's deception. A lot of people in the world are fearful of being different. Scared to let the idea of individuality surpass the levels of there nightmares, so they settle with being like everyone else. It is as if we want everyone to see us, as we wish to see ourselves. What's the point in looking into mirrors, to see ourselves? Why not paste the covers of magazines to your bathroom wall, break the glass of reality, and let those images dress you. Let it fix your hair and make you  tug at your tie as you look again and say to your self 'I look good' basing your truth only on whats in front of you.

If there was no visual media, the world would spin differently. People would help carry the grocery bags of hard working women walking home from work, instead of striving to carry an expensive bag with nothing of true value inside. Kids could miss out on finding more reasons to bully one another because they wouldn't know what to compare COOL to.   Its not to say that we should not be afforded the luxury of having nice things, nor is it entirely detrimental to our existence if two people have the same kind pair of 'shoes'. The big picture here is that its when we let those things that we are able to have, overcast whats most important. Its when we walk in those shoes blind to reality and are only able to strut forward being satisfied with whats not real.

In today's world, the rhyme has been changed to:

Mirror Mirror on the wall

Who do I want to be like MOST of all?

How about ME? How about YOU? And remind ourselves that what we see in Hollywood,
 isn't always true.

 Get out. Don't be real for me. Just be real for you.

Far Away, but so close to home

At the sound of the piano, I had no clue where the keys and musical genius behind this song, were going to take me. "Far Away" is stamped in my mind as one of those musical pieces that did exactly what the artist hoped--painting a picture that no one, who watches, can forget.  It seems every time I hear this song,  I get wrapped up in a feeling I am sure the artist intended for the world to feel.

Marsha Ambrosius took us to a place we often stray in visiting and her voice (message) escalated above those who still attempt to silence the idea that hate exists, especially in the LGBT community. I remember looking at this video and remembering how deep I got sucked in, as it took viewers on such a twist. Not only did this bring a very ripe awareness to me, but to those unaware --how could they not look at this and truly get it.  In the world we live in, it is a form of tragedy when the idea of  simply loving,  is knocked down. And for many, they never find the strength to get up and move beyond it. The emotion is unexplainable. But above anything, I clearly recognized the grave symbolism as I told myself something everyone should remember-- this is your brother, your friend, your neighbor, your classmate.  He took his own life swallowing something no one could ever digest when it happens in real life. And its happening--- everyday.  

polytics.race.sex.love

polytics

i am the lethally misunderstood democratic crack addict that finds herself addicted to the revolutionizing of this honey'd down America they call The Dream, yet it still casper's my mind during the absence of sun that our dream will be overcast with ill-willed republican shadows that will never liquefy itself into a legitimate reality where WE can all taste with the subtle buds that yearn for nourishment of a re birthed and progressive tomorrow...

race n corporate America

i find myself engaged to marry a place where i am senselessly shackled for my unique and beautiful color, i too, wave wings to rise like a phoenix from the ashes that my ancestors bloody bodies left beneath a tree i now climb trying to see over the BushES and past the mcCAIN fields of corporate America toward my landing destination and with no hesitation i fight my battles with hands clasped, head bowed, and knees bent

sex

figure its worth it not to hurt it when we get it we love it always wanting it but never lost without it and in the midst of it, some lose

Self.

Purpose.

Loyalty.

Love.---simply,
because of IT.

love
found it buried under a dusty cardboard box that read "for sale" , and since my mama had just given me a nickel for my troubles, i simply put the box back down, twirled the coin between my fingers and my pocket and kicked a few rocks as i headed toward the faint sound signaling an ice cream truck...