Blue

eyes of brown sugar backed by
a smile of blue
she sought
continuity of curvature
to speak without the utterance of one sound
but i heard every word
all the makings of
a classic
beauty by
mine own standards

• she defined purpose in her stance

• others reveled in the obvious

• and i

• longed for what was

• deeper

• my

• mind was tickled and giggled at

• reasonings that filled her that

• soared above the minds of the average

• i was awed

• she wasnt impressed

• 
  

• "its just me"

• she said

• as i

• marveled at the caramel simmering

• beneath

• this fleshy kettle of fire

• and traced lines with invisible fingers

  that merely started at her legs

  and ended at infinity

  so it is unneccesary to comment

  that

  the caress is forever

  rooted to both earth and man by locs of Queendom

  and the heart by sincereity

  and the eyes by a smile of blue

  an unshakable essence

  she possessed

  that i wished to bottle

  but who can bottle the spirit that is free

  without

  killing

  what intrigued ur mind from Genesis

  and

  returning her smile to blue

  i pray that if i were to be haunted

  she would be my tormentor

  and

  if i were to be blessed

  she would don the wings

  of my

  guardian angel

  locs of wool caressing the

  side of my cheek as

  eyes meet and

  lips contact

  and meld into

  this sweat inducing dream

  i smell her breathing
  i feel her cry
  i arise
  she
  escorts
  we
  travel
  who arrives
  inconsequential
  i came before i went
  fight the feeling i must the desire to

  crush the memory of this nymph into my soul
  she is forever etched there and
  i have never

  seen

  more
  than the 
  Idea

  of she with the smile of blue

..In regard to my search for the perfect sunset

I think she probably scribed

the most perfect lines across the crown of the sky

that I had ever seen

Shining light into the lowest valleys and

Burning the glades and their shade with a

Quiet brilliance

Even thru her haze she managed to illuminate

other dark days

And with subtleness show us all another way

She Darkened my melanin and showed me ways to be a black man

again

She reminded me of my mother

Warming cool days and making things alright again

or At least to endurable for now

I watched her pursue her dream as she settled in the west every night.

Oft i dreamed of pursuing her but

she ran too swiftly along her track

So far away she would wander

I wondered if she would come back..

Alas for the wings of Nike

I would give a jewel

To follow just once

But in my 3rd eye I knew only a God

could look in her eye

I half-human

So every eve I would pray her vision not see tears

as I sit along the coast of the Pacific and

watch her explode into arrays of amazing color..

reaching out

as if she were rubbing my hand to say

"Maybe one day

Never is always worse than late

Who knows what sayeth the Fates.."

And if not for this human and weak body

I would sit forever on this beach

tearfully

but happily regret

My failure to capture

The perfect sunset

Chris Lee

LifeSignZ

2012

Waltz Of The Colors PT.1 (a dynamic Collaboration of Emotion) designed byChelleBell/WreckAB

HE

warmed me up like the 1st day of spring ,

She surprised I in her Sunshine State,

I

Wish to know flowers

Wish to know hours on end enveloped in

You

And I

Just He and I

his hand over the small of my back

and

my

hands playing in his locs,

My

mind is on one thing,

staying in the moment with this King

I

his diary,

HE

whispered to me all his pain and defeat

no tears

just ink

flowing with each word

gently caressing

My

lobe

I

leaned

into the hold

of her soul,

SHE

wanted me to see

SHE

I

wanted familiarity with

WE

Longed for the dance

WE

Shared In Our Minds

IT

was so inevitable

I

kiss his words...

making this dance sacred

his thoughts

go

from pain and defeat

to

conquer and retreat

...the pace of this dance

moves a little

faster than before

....phrases forming

and

my ears

yearning for me....

i will never tell

express it all to

ME

See

SHE

had body

I gave SHE curves,

the stanzas

erotically

danced

in verse

all care to the wind ..

all whispers silent

.. blanket my private

... intuition with ur

sultry essence

WE

survive

the inkletting

WE

don't bend unless it BE

to the will of this

sexy serenade of the pens...

DANCE

like I never knew how like

I never was able

insects of men she has made

but ME

she made KING??

Grateful to the offering..

pauper in the inkwell,

until her

thoughts sex with mine..

mind?

feelin some kinda way

feel the rhythm of my strokes,

its like being the

yellow, red or green crayon

in the crayon box..

im stuck like glue...

waiting

to be peeled off the palms of school kids

Duly Noted

The Paper never asked me to tell my story
Truth is I wouldn’t know how to write the feeling
But the Pen.. She knew
She guided my hands to dig deep obtuse
Screaming lines againt the evenly lined surface
I no longer pen in organized letters
But in
Gashing wounds
That reveal themselves more readily as mortal
Injuries than prose
Stuck in parables amid paralyzed paragraphs
That at times scrawl the same letter of one word
Deeper and deeper into the page until the ink and the impression and the
Meaning and the tears begin to show through
To the unsoiled side
Passion is a substance
Fear is an element
Anger is a curse
Tears at times the blessing
For the weeping
Like open wounds releasing the bacterial drippings
Of a diseased aura
And exhaustion never takes over the senses until the final
Agonizing line
Bleeds fully from my friend ,the pen, my enemy the heart
And the emotionless vulcan of my mind
And as my knees touch the ground at last in a weary
Relenting pose
And I dare not open my eyes
Just KNOWING that after such a tirade
The world most certainly has ended
And I peer out to see the sun still shining
The SON still shining
The grass still bladed
Living another day


Duly Noted
...

Dimples, Eyes, SOUL.. pt 1

She had those
dimples...
they made me blush...
when she smiled & shyly looked away from the...
lens of my brown eyescope...
deep inkwells of cute, but not
sassy talk..
her eyes looked out in longing...
the mystery that was
SHE,
intrigued my sanity to its breaking point...
i sweated in my sleep...
i wanted to agree with my disagreements...
just for a walk with SHE
because
SHE had those dimples...
see
dimples are a trap in themselves
draw u in because,
if u can cause the dimples then
she's smiling...
u love it when she smiles...
but when her eyes smile...
i collapse under the weight of my own humanity....
i redraw the dimensions of her face with my eyes perfectly closed...
i etch them into my thoughts like a blind man,
her lips grace conscious thought &
unconscious rhythm...
her tongue my mind's pacemaker..
when i was about to arrest...
my God! those dimples....
Smile at me please, eyes....
grasp my hand with your soul....
whisper a single thought in my ear
i'll remember it forever...
i've already stored your style in my medulla....
smile for me dimples....
my eyes need to be happy one more time....

Ode To The HoneySuckle Princess

Delicate white fronds on
thick brush...deep in the woods,
back roads to oblivion..
sweet
scents assault the untrained nose,
sweet
protests, the untrained palate..
so hurt ,when the storms blew by
watching her other sisters get tossed in the sky, she
held on
steadfast,
inviting hummingbirds to
taste her nectar in days of Sun,
needing the bees to
pollinate her mind,
help her make another song,
herself a sweet ode to history,
flashbacks to the past when
she herself dropped out the trees
as a seed,
surviving for her babies to feed...
they say its cold in the "D",
i
butterfly
uncoil my siphon
to read
pen styles of iconic depth,
at such depth i catch my breath...
and
hold it to
soak in the essence
and
enjoy the sweet blessings
of the honey suckle princess...
Bloom now
Bloom forever, but...
Bloom for you

The EMPTY

the empty made me full
how?
non-answers, none answered
too busy to
explain yet
too idle to
understand..
the empty scared me
scares me
embarasses me
harasses peace
yet
so still like
dry leaf whispers
raspy advice to my life's bio..
autobio story bound & leather backed
moth nibbled but empty
me/she story related one-lined like
off color joke
laugh because
the tear ducts
empty
take me
my life
my pain
my love
my angles
my theories
and
secret them away
under
midnight shadowed elms
blood on the parchment now for
the pen is empty