A Rapid Rhyme
A Rapid Rhyme Audio Poem
Lucky Lou said to Stu
that he’d catch the girl
who rocked their world
& make plans to do more
than hold hands
what Stu didn’t know
wouldn’t hurt his flow &
Lucky Lou was cool too
besides being a fool in
love with a woman who’d glide
right on to the next,
Lou only wanted sex
Originally posted via Twitter as an experiment.
A Rapid Rhyme
Who would take the bait?
It’d be an added fate to
the mix, we nix the tools we
often use, afraid to partner up with
fools who choose to disguise themselves
& place their wealth on the shelves of
life. That’s right.
Kick back, take it all in
my friend–it’s only the beginning.
Originally posted to Twitter as an experiment.
Grim is the tide for the
willing woman who rides
the waves of life,
subdues her strife, &
calms the raging seas.
She pleases refined minds
and massages willing culprits
reduced to kneeling knees.
Bold & black & beautiful
but not to be seduced,
sweet as honey from the bees.
Originally posted via Twitter as an experiment in rapid rhyme.
A Rapid Rhyme Audio Poem
A breath. A sigh.
A brokenhearted woman
who can’t seem to catch the eyes
of her lover from another,
spent too many nights in blunder.
Had to give her cheating husband
the divorce he wanted just to quell
the thunder in their home,
there lies dysfunction,
so the street, he roams.
Originally published via Twitter as an experiment.
*Thanks to Peter at Peter’s pondering for doing his rapid rhyme posts. I’ve been inspired to do a few more.
She’s married to the idea of loss.
I sit with my tongue waiting to savor
the depth of her beauty.
I will pay for a good thing,
just like the $0.25 most fast food
restaurants charge for extra sauce.
They know we’ll want more.
Supply and demand . . .
Our culture thrives on greed
licking the last bits of this and that
for as long as we can.
We’re motivated by the sound of
our sins — how loud can we be
in the face of God as we mock him?
Boisterous, manipulative Homo sapiens.
We think we know everything there
is to know about life
and we know nothing at all.
The curtain falls behind us.
We hide under the covers
shifting from one form to the next.
I’ll be her grapevine in the middle
of a dirt road,
rumors spreading like wildfire.
She will come to me
before I ask after her.
That’s her way.
She appears when I disappear.
Punctual but untimely . . .
I have gathered all my confessions
for the pastor to review.
On his pulpit, he’ll stand
and applaud me for my efforts.
She’ll take pictures.
Memories of my coming out.
Scrapbook worthy.
I will tell her my life
isn’t up for sale but if she’s
humane, I’m willing to let
her spend time on me.
But she’s married to the idea of loss . . .
And I’m already gone.
Originally published via Medium.
Wild Flower, or The Wild One as I like to call her, has been on Medium for four years and ever since she appeared, she has been making waves. A familiar face from my days as Editor of This Glorious Mess, I was incredibly happy to have her contribute to A Cornered Gurl as well. She answered the call to “Sound Off” with an audio poem and it is truly incredible. I have been amazed by her growth and transformation into this beast of a writer and I hope I am around long enough to see her continue to evolve.
I won’t dote on her any longer . . . Here’s the piece in question, They Call Me Chaos.
They call me chaos,
a complete contradiction
to myself.
Pages of disarray, defined as
a little too abstruse
obscured views, built on foundations
not quite ready to hold
my heavy.
Yes, I feel the weight
of the world beneath me.
I carry your loss
as much as my own.
My throne has not yet
come to me.
I am queen somewhere,
but this life and I
are not yet aligned
to build the bridges required
to save us all
from the inevitable
f a l l
we are facing.
Still, I will hold my arms wide,
tie myself to the core of the problem.
I will stretch each limb to the rim
of your hurt, and hold it
for as long as required.
I will not let go
until I am wise enough
to find the solution.
Yes, they call me chaos,
they say my dreams are
unattainable.
I am a box of worms because the
can they locked me in
could not contain me.
Pandora showed me the way
and in my world,
we speak what we feel,
we use art and poetry
to shield the bigots away.
We hold hands and
embrace each other
through languages
that don’t divide us.
Come and find us,
everyone eats at this table
and not a single shot is fired.
I can’t breathe through your knee
is echoed into a verse that initiates
actual change, that stays,
long enough for the world
to see the wounds it has created.
Providing a bandage
big enough to wrap our hearts
around the start of
something different.
There you have it,
come along for the ride
or turn your stride
away from me.
I will be somewhere else,
writing it out
and taking on the world
as I see it.
They call me chaos
and for as long as I can remember
I have been searching for a way to say
this is me and I am proud of it.
Originally published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium.
A Cornered Gurl 
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