September 12, 2009

Sweet Tea

There was no real inspiration behind this one except that I love sweet tea. This poem was just for fun.

Ps: Sweet tea and love go together like summer and the city.




Sweet Tea

My lover from the northside
has gone to pick me flowers from my neighbor's garden
My honey boy, sticky and fresh
tangerine lips
How can I forget?
A smile that I feel somewhere deep
tickles my feet
Lost in his eyes
open spaces
where my heart is free to fly,

my lover from the northside...

made me breakfast while I was still in bed
Eggs, toast with jelly
and a nice hot cup of tea
'Extra sugar, please!'
Sipped his love slowly
Like the hymns of the pigeons outside
Momma said he seems like a good guy
And his hands never do lie,

my lover from the northside...

isn't as tough as he appears
Not stone-cold, grim
Yes, the boy loves his Tims
but when the boots come off -
under my bed
He is the perfect shade of red
Passionate and gentle at the same time
I'm a mosquito
and his sweet blood makes my tongue cry,

my lover from the northside -

his love spreads far
from here to Crooklyn
Feels like warm milk spilling in
He carries this poem in his back pocket
Understands the similes and metaphors -
says 'baby, I got it'
And on Sundays we lay
while the city's melody plays
Are those fireworks I hear
or bombs coming down?
It doesn't matter
Its calm in here

for now.

1 comment:

Keith Wilson said...

I really dig your use of language:

"My honey boy, sticky and fresh
tangerine lips"

"Like the hymns of the pigeons outside"

"He is the perfect shade of red
Passionate and gentle at the same time
I'm a mosquito
and his sweet blood makes my tongue cry,"

Yeah, I so dig this.