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I HAVE MADE LOVE TO A MAN

Our bodies have never touched

We delved deep into our beings

Beyond time and space

Our bodies reacted with spontaneity

Feeling the urges

The zenith of our orgasms

Yet our bodies never touched

Our spirits moved

Within the realms of the other

Truth was forced from our lips

Deceitfulness fell to the ground

We rose to a higher plain

We made wild and passionate love

Truth was the bed we laid on

I was not meat

He was not flesh

Yet we both did feast

Upon all that we were

Feeding me

Feeding him

Both of us full

From the feasting


Patrice C. Queen (c) ecirtap@uswest.net

**********************************************************************

on being in love with a married man

the secret's out. my fate is set.
for you see,
i am in love
with a married man.

he treats me just right:
the days of being placed on a pedestal
are well behind us,
but neither does he ignore me
like SOME married men might do
to the woman who loves him.
no, my place with him is assured:
it is, and always will be
that space between his head and his heart,
the shoulder i can lean on,
the beam of his smile,
the light of his eyes,
the mate of his soul.

some would say i'm living a fool's paradise.
some would say that a married man's love
is fleeting, and soon turns to complacency.
those are the ones i feel pity for,
for they cannot feel the strength of our bond.
they know not that Thing we have
that sustains me when he has to go away.
my sympathies are extended
to anyone who cannot be me.
oh how i wish
they could be me.
then they would know.
only then, would they know.

i cannot begin to relay this joy divine.
my words are not big enough. my heart bursts with it.
i do it a disservice to even try--
so i will leave you with this:
the only thing better than
being in love with a married man
is loving him for being married
to me.

  /bams (c) bams@nichemarket.com

*************************************************************************

i don't want to dream

i don't want to dream--
i want to wake
in reality
with you

every moment and
every hour of the
day. i want 

you
in my corner
through my looking glass

my chest aches
at your footsteps
down the hall
out the door

pinch myself
numb
wake up
sleepyhead

the slumber is almost over

i don't want to dream

Isis R. Nelson  (c) blackstar19@usa.net

*************************************************************************

my muse

his lips caressed
my hands caressed
the pen to document
the most precious memories of us
the lips everywhere
dancing as close
as two people ever could

the words flowed after
the tears flowed after
he took me there
because i had to remember
perfection
but for what i wouldn't know until later

my word paintings
painted his listening body and eyes reflecting the sun
his perfect nakedness
after we became we
his romance
my romance
our love
~~~~~~~~~~~~
when i lost him
and love
i thought words would be the next to go
though i didn't know
that his absence
love's absence
my heartache
from heartbreak
would give me the words
to make sense of the absurd
tears diluting the illustration of my pain
i read the pictures
that project memories on the screen of my mind
and remember the perfection
that lives beyond forever
in words, words, words

Maurica Lavon (c) Daka19@aol.com

*************************************************************************

morning becomes

on steel grey mornings
when the sky is still
and the air is undisturbed
i celebrate the bare trees
stretching their limbs in prayer
the birds' sweet serenade
i revel in the morning's splendor
i feel GOD smile
the morning awakens as i awaken
to bliss
the dew upon my brow
a kiss from GOD
i weep because i breathe

Nina Henley (c) ninahenley@cs.com

***************************************************************************

yesterday i cried

i cried yesterday
from my desk at work
to the car in the garage
the whole drive home
into my apartment
and finally
onto my bed

i cried
until the pillow was soaked
until my head felt
as if it had been split open
by a sudden blow from a machete

i cried
because i am a dark skinned woman
in a world that loves light and bright
because my flesh is fat
in a world that craves thin and bone
because my frame is short
in a world that worships height and tall

i cried
because i was in pain
because the hole in my heart hurt

i cried
because crying didn't make the pain hurt any worse
and it didn't make it go away

i cried
because i was not alone
but i was lonely

i cried
because i was filled
with gray gloom

i cried
because i was overcome
by white hot rage

i cried
because the warm flow of tears
streaming down my face
reminded me that i was still alive

yes, yesterday i cried
i cried until i truly
believed i could cry no more

yesterday i cried
because yesterday
crying
was all i had
the strength,
the power,
the wisdom
to do.

Cjoi Mosley (c) mscjoi@hotmail.com

*************************************************************************

THE ONLY THING I HAVE TO GIVE TO YOU IS ME

I can't fly to your side, or carry 
you away in the throes of passion,

I don't want to move that fast.
I want to spend time with you, in a park, 
may be sharing a picnic dinner.

I want to lie on a blanket and read my poetry 
to you, while you place your head in my lap.

I want to walk with you, holding your hand. 
To look longingly into your eyes, 
hoping you can see that my love for you is true.

I don't just want to be with you when you can 
make mad passionate love to me, 
I also want to be with you when the pressures 
around you are so great that you can't. 

I can't give you expensive presents, or shower 
you with anything but water.

The only thing I have to offer is my love, 
loyalty and devotion.
The only thing I have to give you is ME!

Rose Ford (c) roseforms@aol.com

*************************************************************************

                THE CONFESSIONS OF A HYPOCRITE

I'm the pharaoh of fiction...spewing the convictions of my contradictions
Pay no attention to the things that I say...but you need to listen
You should bear every intention to disregard all my random displays of wisdom

See I was conceived inside two-faced dimensions. . .
that's why I'm able to co-exist between various conflicting opinions
The abstract minion that abandons ascensions into the obscure 
position of delightful dissension
Did I forget to mention that I'm also well versed in stimulating tension

To the point that it accelerates the decomposition 
within mild mannered nervous systems

You shouldn't do that. . .you should do this...while I'm doing the 
opposite of what I just said
Into a maze of deception is what you just got lead...too late to beg 
because I can't be read
All I spread is confusion. . .with the inclusion of truths exclusion 
my real thoughts reside in seclusion

I'm the latest evolution of falsehood formed upon a formidable base of 
half-fabrication  and full delusion
A serpentine solution simmering to complete a counterfeit
revolution that repulses the righteous into disillusion
The obtuse movement of non-intentional improvement upon my perjury. . .
merging my immersed clergy

So they can appear trustworthy when seen by unassuming humans who
don't recognize my silver-tongued wordings
Hurling curses undercover. . .the man you love to hate...the man you
hate to love. . .cause how can I be any other.

Roderick Harmon (c) mrarsen@hotmail.com

*************************************************************************

REMEMBER

when snow covered debris 
on project lawns
and how the cold of winter 
silenced
outdoor chaos
to some degree

When old folk sold
young folk
candy from
cramped and dusty
tenements
which led to 
age old cavities

remember when neighbors 
fought on the other side
of  hollow walls
and imagination
was your imprisonment

when dogs roamed free
looking for food in stinking
trash bags
knocking over cans

your hands 
ashy from
cold 
dry from 
heat

your spirit glued to
concrete
wondering how to 
escape the streets

drills teams stomping
into a new existence

daffodils in the spring 
time: a gold of divine witnessing

swinging on a poll 
going round in round
until you could see
that earth was indeed
spinning

And the music
coming 
from the small
transistor radio
in the window
belting out
promises

of new

beginnings

Shaunda Holloway (c) shaundah@chadwyck.com