If You’re Ever Loved By A Poet

If You’re Ever Loved By A Poet

If you’re ever loved by a Poet
the only way you won’t know it
is if you don’t have an appreciation
for the art behind the occupation
I should say, profession
because we specialize
in the art of the confession
and the expression
of life’s curses and blessings
We give voice
to the life experience
with the eloquence
of deliverance
so if you’re ever loved by a Poet
know that it’s serious

Being in love
pumps our blood
making our thoughts soar
and our fingers fly
showing that blank canvas
why
it was created
and yet we are so underrated
because if we had a brush
instead of a pen
with a gallery to host our artistry in
demanding payment
before you walk away with
our blood typed in language
so many of us wouldn’t have day jobs
being robbed
of a fair chance
at finance
the underdog
of booksales
the black sheep
of publishers
Is it a wonder
we are so underserved?
We deserve
much better
I will gold for every letter
my fellow Poets type
from now on until forever
Poetry is our pleasure
It is our treasure
an investment of energy
the synergy
of taking living and making it new
shaking off the shawl of prose
we are writing’s rose
and for every poem
we write
another one grows
so know
that if you’re ever loved by a Poet
if you don’t smell the roses
in your garden
and still unaware of how you got them
go and beg your lover’s pardon

by Johndca Spencer©

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My Lamentation

 

 

My Lamentation

I made the rain come
I let loose the dam
behind the windows
of my eyes
and I cried, honey!
Moaning
rumbling like thunder
in my throat
choked
up
with had-enough
storms
form
in my gut
shoulders quake
and heave
heart pumps
and bleeds
I would
fall to my knees
in prayer
but I’m at a lost for air
trying to remain standing
by placing my hands on
these walls
I’ve put around myself
so when the rain comes
I won’t drown anybody else
Waiting for the baptism
to be submerged
and purged
at the same time
using these tears of mine
because holding them back
has become too much of a chore
that I haven’t the strength
to maintain anymore
so I opened the windows
and the doors
set the timer on the dam
took some tissue out the drawer
and cried ’til my tears dropped to the floor
and cried some more ’til my eyes were sore
and cried further still ’til my face was wore
and cried yet again ’til I couldn’t cry anymore
Honey, I cried all the water from the shore
I cried in a way that I had never cried before
I cried from Harlem down to Ecuador
’til all of the tissue was gone out the store
and once it was over…
once the white flag
from the bags
under my eyes was waved
I prayed
crawled out of that underwater grave
shut the windows
locked the door
replaced the dam with a fort
landmines upon my shores
in my forests and on my floors
mopped up the water
resurrected the martyr
suited back up
and prepared for war!

by Johndca Spencer©

Fellow Poet

Fellow Poet

I sip you with my coffee
waiting for the release
of dopamine
with my caffeine
from your words
jumping off your art
into my mug
along with my cream and sugar

I wake up
looking forward
to read you
and see
how much we look
like each other
with word and emotion
being father and mother

I long to
be seduced
by your use
of language
The power of such
makes the world vanquish
around me
into the world inside
I hold you like a blanket
and I hide
with you
marvelling at the jewels
in your lines
trying your message on for size
and I can relate

I spin around in your words
like a new dress
made of chiffon
The wind of the dance
lifting me off my feet
to place me upon
just what I was looking for
you do that for me
and so much more

I need to share with you
my side of the fence
along with my two cents
about what life is like
on my planet
Writing in blood
and pomegranate
juice
My need to let loose
thru the word
narrated by yours truly
but unheard
there
because the ones I love
won’t read me to understand
which registers that
they don’t really give a damn
but
when I’m sipping you with my
coffee…HONEY!
neither do they!

by Johndca Spencer©

Dear God

Dear God,
Every time I wanna get close to You
the devil comes
and the test starts…
My inner demons get riled up
nest in my mouth and start to cuss
body snatch my loved ones and they start to fuss
at me
laughing
and attacking
The Change
taunting “I told you so’s”
when they witness my rage
claiming I will always be the same
ole soul they knew
as if they could know me better than You

Dear God,
I let stress
define how I digress
most folks would say that I’m a mess
I am a work in progress
I must confess
and yet You’re on time with every breath
but dear God,
You see me
You see how hard I try
how hard I cry
to the point I feel like I’m gon’ die
I gotta hold my chest sometimes
and squeeze myself so I won’t fly
off the handle
feeling like a candle
burnt at both ends
stuck in Strangeville with no friends
You are my only Refuge
and I refuse
to stop reaching for You
despite all the things I have yet to do
wrong
Mistakes
like earthquakes
devastating
all the while shaping
and creating
life upon
this earth,
in this vessel,
in my mind,
and if I’m so fashioned after Your kind
then let your light so shine
so I can see that
and receive that
and believe that
and be that
and all that
what I think of You
and all that what I believe to be true of You
’til I’m spiritually wrapped
’til when I look in the mirror our reflections match
and people gasp
like their breath was snatched
and destory their prior perceptions like glass
Dear God!

by Johndca Spencer©

Ms. Grief

Ms. Grief

Since you died
I lost my head
and I’m still shocked
I ain’t fell dead
although I breathe
although I’m fed
I cannot see without my head
I cannot think without my brain
rolled off my neck
into your grave
and that is where it’s trapped to stay
I walk around and round all day
and spin and tumble all which-a way
because my head is in your grave
there with my heart
and both are chained
and since I do not have my brain
I cannot think to break away
in death with you am I enslaved
and if someday I should be saved
if one should cut the chain away
the world is nothing but a grave
of lifeless you
and it’s not the same
So once I die
let them say
she was buried twice
in different graves

 

by Johndca Spencer©

Straight Up!

Straight Up!

You put on a mask and pretend to be
the same as Eve
the same as me
but we
have a womb
we breastfeed
we bleed
A wig
and some makeup
won’t set you free

You put on a mask so that we don’t see
the truth of what God made you to be
but the difference between
you and me
is that I’m not running
from how God made me
and I don’t say that to say that it’s easy
for how God made you
or how God made me
What I’m saying is
you don’t get to decide for me
what’s the true definition of femininity
by perpetrating frauds on my tv
with deception on what a woman is supposed to be
because you’re unhappy with what God chose you to be
you wanna crossover
like red rover
and join me
but I’ll repeat
myself
because it’s not easy
A wig
and some makeup
won’t set you free

Now you can be who you want
but don’t expect me
to accept the deception
you put in front of me
with your thigh gaps
where ball sacks
use to be
cause a wig
and some makeup
won’t make you like me
Victoria can keep her secret
because it’s plain to see
the apple that fell off the tree
use to be
in the necks of those who claim to be
angels
yet they’re Adams
fronting like they’re Eve
Keep
yo’ wig
and yo’ makeup
but you still ain’t like me
Your cosmetics
and prosthetics
ain’t fooling me

You can sew on that mask
so that we can’t see
castrate your flesh through surgery
take hormones and manipulate your genes
but you’ll never fully understand
what’s inside my being
no more than I can understand what it’s like to be you
and I say with confidence nor would I ever try to
yet I gotta son that can’t be lied to
on what a woman’s suppose to be
redefined by you

You can call it hate
call it what you want to
but the lies that you serve
hurt me
not you
like a dog
telling a cat
what it’s suppose to be
as if you have a clue
what it is to be me
and just because you find men
that get off on you
gives you no right
to impose your agenda through
the coverup
of what you can’t step up
up to be
and that’s a real man
so you wanna stand
alongside me

You can put on a mask
and pretend to be
any damn thing you desire to be
but a bird can’t be a fish
because fish live in the sea
A fish can’t be a bird
because they’re meant to be
in air and on land
like you can’t understand femininity
A wig
and some makeup
ain’t gon’ make you me

by Johndca Spencer©

Runnin’ Aimlessly, So Shamelessly

Runnin’ Aimlessly, So Shamelessly 

I brag about being a ’70s baby
Proud of being Generation X
yet
in the morning
when I’m planning for my day to go right
all my body functions start to go left
and I gotta talk to my knees now
Gotta encourage them to carry me upright
despite
carrying a head that’s about two times it’s size
from being lumped up
on the hard knock
and bumped up
like a hard rock
and I don’t know what I thought
like I can just get on up like I use to
mustering up the courage to do what is that I do
on the day job
but I feel like I robbed
myself
of that something else
that I know I love
and that I’m good at
to settle for
the average life of being a rat
running a race
where there is no winner
just a laboratory morsel
setup for my dinner
from the slice
of American pie
which is more like a sliver
same recipe on the plate
but a whole lot thinner
on my side of the income bracket
and the racket
of these
New York City streets
while my knees
along with other rats
squeak
like the floor boards
that creak
up under my feet
from the burden
of carrying other runners like me
running ’round in circles
doing our best, just tryna eat
scrubbing folks toilets
while poetry
beckons to me
inquiring ever so passionately
Saying
Are you done being dizzy?
Are you finally ready to redefine
what it means to get busy?
Or are you gon’
plan for your headstone
to read
“Out of her element”
wouldn’t that be a pity?

by Johndca Spencer©

When Dreams Die

When Dreams Die 

Tried to make it work…
dug my shovel in the earth
cause it’s not worth
what it use to be
to me
in the midst of this graveyard
full of broken dreams
ain’t afraid to bust a sweat
made a space right next
to it for any regrets
that I have left
looking forward to the time
that I will forget
that I use to want it
wearing make-believe
on my face like makeup
and I flaunt it
cut the dangling
temptation
without any further hesitation
time is too precious
to allow for anymore waiting
it’s no longer shiny and new
alluring or enchanting
the genie has no more wishes
for the granting
of individuals such as myself
the baton was passed to someone else
and I no longer wish to run
another race
at the sound of another gun
that will leave me in the same place
as the last one
on a dead end street
running in circles because I’m dumb
my feet have swollen and my legs are numb
the wish
I wished
is a wish no more
my heart
my back
and my brain are sore
from carrying this expectancy
which is now infecting me
with sorrow
from its absence
yesterday
today
and most likely tomorrow
and I’ve been on pause
for the cause
dancing with you in the stars of my eyes
being cradled then dropped in the reality of your lies
praying
negotiating
sacrifice
compromise
and now I realize
that in my weariness of want
you’ve become a ghost that haunts
me
a translucent puff
that looks as though I can touch
you but can’t grasp
like a question
I can’t ask
with a wonder
I can’t shake
but an answer I need to know
now I need for you to go
cause your teasing bores me
your dangling bait abhors me
your diamonds no longer implore me
to play jacks with you
or go back and forth
tit for tat with you
it’s cool
I’m cold
no longer burnt by your hold
you’re no longer hot
time rots you
autumn wind dropped you
snow stopped you
now at the tip of this shovel I got you
and in that hole
along with all the control
you had over me
is the burden of you
and the death of a dream

 

by Johndca Spencer

I Am Woman

I Am Woman 

I wear my balls on my chest
Kings and legacies have suckled at my breast
When God gave man his first breath
he was taken from the dirt,
I was taken from the flesh
I too, am God’s dream
manifest
to bless
this earth
My worth
cannot be measured
because I was created
for God’s pleasure
and glory
My story
is not confined
to the glue that binds
pages to books
one must look
beyond the cosmos
and straight to the heart of the Creator
My Maker
had more in mind
for my kind
than being defined
as inferior
with a soft exterior
to bend at the will
with whatever my male counterpart feels
simply because I came second
It was Him who beckoned
me
to be
at man’s side
untied
me from His tongue
shaped me from man’s rib
with a garden in my womb
led by a flume
embedded with the fountain of youth
ecstasy and transformation
My manifestation
as Eve
The moon
to your sun
the womb
to your son
the bloom
to your stump
is more than a rump
for you to hump
or a well for you to dump
yourself into
tainting the very thing
you yourself came thru
because the spirit at the root
comes from objectified lust
like that fruit
when she picked it up
like that night
when she gave it up
and the world never looked the same
during the most vulnerable time
when Adam never came
but God did
cause He was there
cause their covering dissipated in the air
no longer protected
but infected
with the mortal sting
of temporary things
and for all the doom the woman brings
with these balls on my chest
I admit I brought the death
while my right-hand man watched
and turned left
passion fruit still dribbling
all down the cleft
in his chin
She’s swept under the rug
of “what had happened was”
She made you do it
She gave it to you
She made you chew it
She made you taste it
She made you swallow
God made you the man
And she made you to follow
Is that what happened?
She was fashioned
from the rib
of man
whose heart
didn’t have the heart
to be the man
when it came to the grandstand
between God and man
and for all this are we to understand
which one of the two
is the lesser than?
Hmph!

 

by Johndca Spencer©

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