JAZZ

Last night, 

you felt like jazz.

Ur fingertips improvised complicated vamps & rifts in the key of ecstasy.

U made my heart beat in swing,

keeping Count with ur kisses like Bassie.

I tasted ur composition

on my lips.

U wrote 8 bars of a love song on my tongue

with no lyrics;

because we were speechless.

With the moon as our witness,

the stars danced to our rhythm.

And the night wind tried to mimic our emotion,

but it was encoded like;

"Ski bi di bi di do bap do

Do bam do" ...

U harmonized 

with my bass line

& my treble clef trembled in staccato

from the tempo of your percussion.

Made me wanna blow 

ur trumpet 

like Miles, 

as in Davis.

Please,

let's press last night's soulful memory in vinyl.

then, we can replay it on an old turntable;

or maybe

download it digitally 

onto an ITune 

& put it on repeat.

And we can hum our melody whenever we wanna remember JAZZ...

©Impresse 2015

AMY WINEHOUSE: Greatest Hits Full Album || Best Songs Of Amy Winehouse

You're STILL my GIRRRRL AMY...

A Poetic Conversation

*Silence falls heavy*
*I find my wave*
*WORDZ*

I miss the days of Miles Davis & John P. Kee,
When there was no FACEBOOK, Instagram... or mobile T.V.
TOGETHER...HAPPY...
JUST...U N ME...
YOUR EYES,
the screens I was longing to see...

Admittedly... In today's world of technology,
I've over indulged in touchscreens.
So I couldn't see
the cyberspace between us.
Let's make up
the algorithms to reconnect;
& I promise to disconnect my profile...
just to focus on your smile;
while
we sit quietly
spoken silence mixes with Miles & Stevie
weaving images of chocolate chip kisses laced with Bitches Brew...

U knew
the me I was
before
inbox messages;
So, let's recapture images
without camera phone clicks or downloading memories thru Instagram selfies...

Just u & me
investing
in real organic sensations.
Like, soft-lipped kisses on fingertips,
lingering embraces that leave Dolce & Gabbana traces on my ear lobe
or
spontaneous pecks on your collar bone...
Just to remind us...
that human touch is beautiful...

And the you that is me
And the me that is you...
is altogether
wonderfully symmetrical...

SO if I "Like" you....
will you "Poke" me back;
like we used to before the damn I Mac?

Give me face time... at a five n dime, while I buy u cheap trinkets, that'll make u smile.

We can reconnect, without internet.

Let me touch YOU, not yo screen....
come HERE,  gimme yo neck.

U see cold lemonade, on a warm front porch.....thts what I MISS.....
I would wait until you sipped, before I asked for a kiss....

Now its OMG, & LOL......GTFOOH WITH THIS!!

Don't you send me NO MORE selfies!
NOT another BLACK and WHITE pic...
What you can DO, is slide in a CD, while we vibe to a lil Slick Rick! ;-)
Hehe, ha ha, ctfu....thts what weve become.
Im only allowed so many characters.......so there.....NOW IM DONE.

Of course I "Like" you... I checked the box that said "Yes" on the sheet of loose-leaf u gave me;
along with the sandwich bag full of penny candy.

Reminding me of that ol school Mary J "Real Love"
When you would slip a touch
on the small of my back;, the back of my neck
the round of my hips...

Instead of responding back
to emails & texts.
Maybe we can connect turning pages of a book in our faces
as we share space with sunrays & rap a taste
on Kush & Kemet, modern day hip hop prophets & our favorite incense.

Communicating in our native tongue is what I miss...
Now everybody speaks in hashtags, anagrams & abbreviated sentences.

So, maybe we can use the moon to illumintate our kiss;
Poetic lips
composing 8 bar lyrics beneath the stars;

That's who we really are...
So let's get back to basics,
You & me baby are a simple equation...

  2 Lovers
+2gether
---------
  4ever.

©2014 Tyrone Moore/Impresse
All Rights Reserved

GOD-LESS AMERIKKKA

How My Suga Got So Flyy

I was dancing with King Moon Pie on Mars when my Butterfinger lost its grip & I slipped and slid down the Milky Way. I started to Snicker because it tickled my Good & Plenty. I was feeling the Mounds of Almond joy rushing through me so; I bit my lip as a little Bit-O-Honey slid from my Whatchamacallit.

When I finally made it to the end of the Milky Way I landed on some Pop Rocks and that made my Tootsie Roll. After this, I needed a Boost & wanted to get in touch with Mr. Goodbar real bad. But I remembered he spent all his time at a Sky Bar. So I called instead to see if I could get Hershey’s Kiss; he said he would come thru and swoop me up in his Cadbury Dream. We arrived at Baby Ruth’s & stopped by the Galaxy Counter to get a room. What went on next was a Whopper! He snapped off a piece of my Kit Kat & I screamed “I love your Sugar Daddy!” I think he almost cried when he found out I was into M&M. In the end I sent him into Orbit when I made his Starburst.

Skittles went all over the place but I managed to catch some with my choco taco. 

Now, if we recorded what went on in that room, the tape would be worth ten times a 100 Grand easy. F*ck Nikko & Mimi…

(And that’s how my suga got sooo flyy…)

If Only...

 

 

IF ONLY…

 

"When did I eat celery?" I was thinking to myself as the remains of my stomach floated in its porcelain grave. I cannot believe this. After nine years I decided to go down this road again. What the hell was I thinking?
If I had just listened to the transmission the little oracle inside me was trying to send to my peanut brain, I would have followed my first mind.

"Hey Gi-Gi. What's up?"

"I'm not taking "No." for an answer. We are having a girl’s night out and the group is not complete without you. You're getting out and having some fun for a change."

"I'm having plenty fun chatting with my FB fam on my lap top, in my bed, under the comforter."

Get yo punk ass up and put on your "I-won't-have-to-buy-my-own-drink-all-night" suit and let's go!"

I responded with an "Aight damn!" to finally end her relentless tirade.

So, again ignoring the oracle's transmission, I got dressed and met her at The Plaza. Its an upscale (bourgeoisie really), afro-centric, networking lounge. Really only professionals frequent it. So this was not your run-of-the-mill shake yo ghetto booty club. I made up my mind to show my face and have one drink then be out. Boy was I wrong.

My one drink obligation turned into three. After the second drink, I asked Melissa (the designated driver) to take me home and she could spend the night at my place. Everybody else was cool in our group, so she agreed.
I downed my last Sex in the City martini and went to the ladies' room.

On my way back up the dimly lit corridor, I saw him. He saw me. My heart felt like it was playing polo in my chest as he approached me. It was just my damn luck he was over 6 feet, smooth & chocolate as a Hershey's and built like a mountain of hot basalt.

All of a sudden, some unseen gravitational pull scooped me up into its vortex and threw me into his arms, like someone dumping the contents of a wheelbarrow into the eye of a tornado. I mean I had no control of what was happening. He picked me up by my waist and backed us into the men's washroom. We made it to one of the black marble stalls. He sat on the top of the toilet's tank lid and pulled me onto his lap. Its funny that I don't remember removing clothes, I just remember his entrance inside me, full and strong. I most remember having the type of climax that could relocate your spine.

So here I am 8 wks later, free from HIV (thank the good Lord above) but suffering from morning sickness. My youngest child is nine and at 36 I am pregnant with a man's baby whose name I don't even know. And to this day, his name doesn't matter to me. Shit, I'm having a hard enough time trying to make this baby matter to me. How do I answer the inevitable question that will haunt me and this baby for the rest of our God-given days, "Who is his father?" What am I supposed to say..."I don't know"? I think the hell not. Now that would make me look stupid wouldn't it?

I am now faced with the decision between murder and moral responsibility. I know you may be wondering how I could even consider one over the other. But, I'm also sure you've never been in a situation like mine. My children don't know, nor the rest of my family. I'm the back bone of my siblings. Even when my husband died, I was expected to bounce back with no consequence, hell I had to help everyone else get through it. For this reason, I am alone. I must clean up this mess on my own. My family would be so disappointed in me. So, what do I do?

"You have to look inside your heart. Your heart will tell you what's right."

"You mean I paid four-hundred fifty dollars to lay on this ugly, uncomfortable, art deco piece of shit couch for an hour for that cheesy, commercial bull crap?!? You can go straight to hell and give me my effin' money back before you leave…

 

Peace, Love & Poetry

 

As the morning sun kisses the tip of the horizon, I am reminded you are Zion's new dawning.

And for your sake I will not keep silent;

as impassioned rifts of energy tear thru me, splitting me

n2 wisdom.

Now my vision is clearer 2c u r exceptional.

 

And as the day mixes within the night

causing midnight and midday somewhere in the middle;

we agree to meet with methods and melodies that produce the morning
 
dew.

 

Snap snap as my hands clap...

exposing poetic expos inking with inkling as I clue u in with examples as I feed u samples of poetic snippets…

 

U make me squeeze my thighs together with your verse.

Unrehearsed metaphors invade my sugar walls.

It’s all I can do to keep still.

 

Fingering my…

similes…

until I come…

closer to the sensational tingling you bring when you lyrically lick my syllables.

Blissfully rhythmical when I grind my clitoral cortex up against your intelligent word play.

I appreciate that you take the time to tease my mind’s frame… make me say your name…

 
 


 

I see you came to play as you painted a pretty picture... that I will mentally frame... and sexually color with disdain...

I maintain my composure, while erecting thoughts to make you spill your sweet metaphors;

as I use my figurative language to spread between your lines, reading from left to right... horizontally.

 

I lay my syntax real close, almost touching and teasing you until u are climatic.

Having u implementing an implosion of mental and sexual sins...

and before I am finish I will ask...

do you want me to begin again?!?

 

Shay & KFarrell

Wordsfromourpen