Good Morning

I typed this on my fone...

I spent the whole night with u,
Watch the sun set with u
Watched the moon set with u
Then when I was alone
Called u
To tell u that I missed u
Before you even finished walking away
Like I didn't wake up to your handsome face at the start of the day.

Calling you, with no reason, not to say anything in particular
just to enjoy the peace
I feel
On the phone
Knowing you are there
Not saying a word
Saying it in every single way possible
For hours, and hours, and hours...hours
Hoping you don't get bored of me
Coz I've changed my tariff so calls to T Mobile are free
Coz sometimes the best things in life cost P's
But it's in my best interest
That I invest
Into our progress.

I wanted 2call u just 2tell u Good Morning
Even tho last night, I spoke 2you til we were yawning
Took every tired muscle 2stop me from calling.

But you got me writing again, now that's something!

Now It's Your Turn

Is it in your nature,

for me being a tree,

from nothing,

but

a mustard seed,

that now stands

strong,

tall,

and beautifully-

but YOU

being a dog
to come around and
try to shinken my size

as you have the urge

for your leg to rise

letting out that jealous liquid

that leaks from your insides.

We are opposites

for you are unclassed
Is it my ability that I can burn you with the fire in my eyes?
Or is it because, I walk like I have diamonds in the meeting of my thighs?
The purest ones from Sierra Leone
unlike your coal that you give away
like the common cold.

Chasing after man
like Bolt on a track
we all know about you
Pussy may be pussy, but no one wants to catch something you cant throw back.
and with your count, you definately got that


As a matter of fact,
I must say, you got skills
using males sex against their emotions
But who gets the raw deal?
Because you refuse to keep your legs closed
Why is it I that has to feel?

Copyright © Simone Byer, 2008

Cornered by a Mic and Pen

Walking through West End, on a Sunday, as you do. I made a quick stop to see Chris Philips and say hi while he does his show. Like I mentioned before, he has a great show featuring the best in Neo Soul, real R&B and classic soul music, and more recently, a Words Manifest feature in which he plays a piece from a poet, and obviously, I love that bit!Anyway, so as soon as I get past the mob of screaming Wanted fans outside the studio, I’m greeted by Chris Philips who, before we even reach the booth says "What a coincidence, my poet dropped out, you wanna do your piece live, on air?"

Chris and I have already had a conversation in which he aired that he is very unhappy that I’m not doing bigger things with my poetry, and U should be getting on stages and ishk! The phrase that stuck with me the most from that conversation was "Do now, doubt later"; so taking that into consideration, I thought, why not?

So yeah, with 10mins preparation time, I edited the poem, sat in front of a mic, and... Yea, I doubted after afterwards because my deliverance could have flowed better. But hey, I’ve done it now, and my poem was heard by potentially 1000's of people.I'm actually gonna get on a stage on Saturday at a place called Mekan Bar in Catford. An event called Mixed Messages has a slot for me.

So yeah, I’ll be there! For your listening pleasure (...or pain, ha-ha), My Right to Write via SoundCloud.

http://soundcloud.com/chrisphilips/symone-poetress-on-choice-mar-13-2011?utm_source=soundcloud&utm_campaign=share&utm_medium=facebook&utm_content=http%3A%2F%2Fsoundcloud.com%2Fchrisphilips%2Fsymone-poetress-on-choice-mar-13-2011

A big thanks again to Chris Philips for believing in me :)

literal orgasm

I kissed poetry again last night
another page turning experience to bring to the mic
This unused paper was my canvas for every secret thought
where I could sit and release my pen
without thoughts of getting caught.
Slowly
seductively, I join with my black ink pen

Preparing mentally,
physically,
emotionally to discharge these feelings within
Ink spilled from my pen,
little by little-
covering the page
becoming one with literacy
kissing the paper with love
hateand thoughts of Rage.

It excited me, calmed me
with every thought of every letter
leaving me exhausted
gripping my bic, the tip getting wetter and wetter.
I didn’t want to at firstbut my soul was being nursed
emotions quenched my hunger and obeyed my thirst
...
First with awkward long strokes
and pause.s ...
in between
to....
ponder
then letting my thoughts guide my hands
as they begin to wonder...

I gave my inhabitations that night
Nearly everything I had
I could hear Usher in the wind
telling me I’ve Got It Bad.

No longer pure or innocent
but I can stand to be poetically deflowered ‘
coz I needed,
craved,
dreamt about that night
until minutes became hours.

What more can I say about this
PoeticPassionatePromiscuousPlace
when
PenetrationPerfectlyPleasured me,
without means of Penis orPussy,
but by means of Paper & Pen
that had me
leaking on my endless sheets
emotionally exhausted, yet
secretly craving for more.
That now may be in the past
but the experience feels closer and closer-writing and writing out of spaceconstantly flipping pages over.


But to stop writing, I could never phantom
never forgettingmy first literal orgasm.

Grown Too Soon

My Child,

He once told you

"You want to be a lady?
You must act & even pretend.
Because some of the events you engage in
will determine if we ever meet again”

Even to hear your mum laugh
or to see your dad smile
’coz now your grown before your time...

now that ship has gone -

sailed on by.
Always close enough to the waters
claiming you know how to swim
but your eyes weren’t even open
to see when that boy had pushed you in -
splashing, delaying your weight taking you deeper

"Hey lil’ girl, I thought you were a swimmer?!"

My child, I’m sure you were happier
when you didn’t "need" a man
but now, you have no choice
but to be alone.
Should have practiced safe sex
by keeping him on the other end of the telephone.
But instead, you laid on your back and became bitch
to this dog, and threw him a bone
and it’s now you who suffers
by taking more than the memories of that night home.

My child, life is now cut short,
death celebrating your bitter divorce
from common sense, in the court of good wisdom
and judgment
because you spent too much time "growing" to
judge man.

Now, as you sit as child,
with child
accessing the roots of many problems
remembering when he said
he didn’t want to use a condom.
You now wish you exercised some discipline
and caution
’cause now your only option
is for you to have an abortion,
cause your life is about to be aborted soon
cause your good eggs cant even fill a tea-spoon-
not able to be around after May
for your family reunion in June,
not able to hear your unborn daughter sing about the cow jumping over the moon
or the dish running away with the spoon.
All because you

was in a rush

to grow up

too soon.

Final Curtain, Take ii

[NORA stands for a moment as though collecting herself. Then she looks at her watch: Five o’clock. Seven hours till midnight. Then another twenty four hours till midnight tomorrow... Twenty-four and seven? Thirty–one hours to live.]

"So this is the only place I can catch you alone?"
"Close the door."
"Roxanne, I just needed to make sure that we’re on the same page, making sure you don’t over step my boundaries."
"Close the door."
"Just wanted to make this clear to you, know your place—"
"Close the goddamn door!"

Cornered in my cubicle, I sit curled with anxiety punching my bladder, with a roll of toilet paper in my hand and three layers between the seat and I. My throat tightens. Her voice is too close for comfort as she stands between the door, blocking my exit. No mercy in her face, her eyes feed daggers into my soul. I fall back onto my seat so I wouldn’t be putting everything on show, caged in front of her like a neutered cat. Someone is about to get their eyes clawed out.

"I can make this a living nightmare for you, Roxanne. I will make you never want to work in theatre again." She turns to leave, then turns back. "Oh, and I saw your files on Darren’s desk. Twenty-four and a retired model? Shame what a little scratch can do, isn’t it?"

"Bitch, the door. NOW!"

She perfects her posture and smoothes the side of her hair. This girl doesn’t deserve to have that beautiful hair, what a waste. Her eyes slice me up and down.

"Sorry babe, but that’s just the way we do it over here. Just remember that."
"You’re about to see just how I do it, if you don’t move this goddamn minute."
"Touch me; go on, just one finger. I want you to. Just one touch can have you locked up so fast. You won’t know what hit ya. So please, when you’re quite finished down there, do come out, in front of that crowd, and touch me."

She walks away without closing the door.
I walk out of the cubicle replaying her invasion in the mirror in front of me. I freshen up and make myself look presentable again. What happened just then doesn’t matter. Yet. Not for now. Now: make up, wardrobe.

* * *

I'm a Cheat.

Don't ask me if I love you- that's not fair
Even when you knew you was wrong,
I was there
...Until last night.
In my defense, you didn't care!!!
But, yes... I know,
that doesn't make it right.
It just happened!
But naaah,
I'm not guilty- coz you deserved it!
I blame you!
Why weren't you there?
Where were YOU?

Where were you when he held my face until I smiled away the pain you gave?
Did YOU think to call before that hug got too close?
Where were you to save me when he told me to forget about you?
I looked out for you
in your red cape
Neither right, nor left - nowhere in my view.
It was just him...
and us...
alone.

Hell-I hope this makes you angry!!
Does it make you think??
Does it make you clench your teeth at the thought of my hands round his...
hips?
How he took time you caress each print of my fingertips...?
IT JUST HAPPENED!
No! - I wanted it to happen.
I WANTED to feel his soft lips pressed firmly against mine

I WANTED to feel his tongue
inviting my kiss, time after time
I wanted to feel the way you made me feel, but you left.
Three years ago.
And, I should have let go,
these heart strings are still tight,
the pain from your name rings me every night.

I'll pick up
and we can pretend
we never broke up...
But don't ask me if I stopped loving you
'Coz that's not fair.
Even when you said you loved me,
you left me,
and lust was there.

© Poetress