When the Mood Hits

I see you.
Surving and Striving
Society had almost made me forget you exist
You.
You intelligent, thought-provoking, hillarious and virile men
Debating Bush and 50, homosexuality and my high heels and why in 2007 I still say red when the Kool-Aid pack says cherry
All with the same amount of passion
That's why the flavor will always be red.
The way you put your words together always makes me think
I get it but never would have thought of it . . . like t h a t
makes my humming Badu's Clever "This is what I look without makeup" kinda stale.
And I ain't stale.
But sitting next to you shines me up.
Like a little spit to that boot and it's strap you pulled yourself up by
You turn me on.
You are a walking miracle.
King kong still ain't got nothing on you.
But the second you realize all this, it's lost
For now, you remain the prototype

. . .I got up this morning mad that I still haven't broken my sleepaholic ways. I was going to write about how I have been enjoying being more social in the last few weeks and in particular being reminded there are still some good black men out here. But instead my fingers had a mind of there own. Guess watching Love Jones last week (can you believe that movie is 10 years old?) had more of an impact than I realized. And just as quickly as I am reminded of the good guys some grown man let's the dog in him out like those guys on the street who see you walking and turn there bodies so they can see your backside once you pass. I always feel I get the last laugh because my butt could use a mosiqito bite or two:) Happy Labor Day!
CJ