poems from "she"

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By Saul Williams

***

we sleep

in the same house

but it is we

who have a

long distance relationship

***

i presented

my feminine side

with flowers

she cut the stems

and placed them gently

down my throat

and these tu lips

might soon eclipse

your brightest hopes

***

To aim

Is to take oneself too seriously

By focusing without instead of within

re arrange and re member

aim...i am

the right letters are there

it's the wrong composition

***

they say

that i am a poet

i wonder what

they would say

if they saw me

from the inside

i bottle

emotions

and place them

into the sea

for others

to unbottle

on distant shores

i am unsure

as to whether

they ever reach

and for that matter

as to whether

i ever get

my point

across

or my love

***

you are drawing me to you

that is your art

i am drawn

***

i do not mean

to exploit our relationship

all that i have

learned from you

i cherish most

should i keep it to myself?

should i keep you to myself?

i want to tell my mother

what i have learned

what is personal?

should i code what i say?

i say so little

so much

when meanings are already hidden

should i hide them?

what am i going to keep for myself?

the wild woman is unkempt

the changing woman is unkempt

she speaks her mind

that is a great thing

for a woman

***

i laced my shoes with sorrow

and walked a weary road

dead end streets

don’t come undone

with double knots

wing tipped shoes

that walk on air

through vacant lots

***

she had nothing

but time on her hands:

silver rings, turquoise stones

and purple nails

i rubbed my thumb

across her palm:

a featherbed

where slept a psalm

yea, though i walk

i used to fly

and now we dance

i watched

my toenails blacken

and walked a deadened trance

until she woke me

with the knife edge

of her glance

i have the scars to prove

the clock strikes

with her hands

***

i drew a blank

and i think

it may be the best thing

i’ve ever drawn

***

in an attempt

to not lose

a prized possession

i lost everything

***

she says

she responds

to my hugs

like a battered woman

who is offered chocolate

by her batterer

invisible scars

take the longest

to heal

look

don’t we make

beautiful victims?

i am wearing

orange wool flat-front slacks

with tear stains above the knee

the white cashmere sweater

is perfect for frowning

don’t we hold our ground wonderfully?

will we ever choose to hold the sky?

but then

the sky cannot be held

as the wind cannot be caged

***

i once wrote out of loneliness

and into it

please, not now, love

i’m suffering

somebody dipped this soul

in Christian batter

fried it

and then

made the mistake

of trying to serve it back to me

as if

i wouldn’t taste my own being

obscured by confectionery sugar

***

what am i waiting up for?

love never comes home

until fear, possession, and jealousy

are far gone

sage has burnt

and fresh candles lit

and by that time

i may be asleep

***

i fear your freedom

thus, i must fear my own

you are a changing woman

i recognize you

and am trying to free you

of me

it is your freedom

that i love

i have not yet

learned to love

without holding on

***

i write in red ink

that turns blue

when the book closes

***

i simply want to be

the love song

dangling from her lips

unfiltered

ever burning at the end

the beginning forever

at her lips

my dreams

on the lips of her tongue

she breathes

clouds of mystery

once mine

smoke signals

another lifetime

now dissolved

into thin air

and when

the mystery is gone

so is the fire

maybe if i came in packs

(like wolves)

but there’s still be the warning

for pregnant women

love’s suffering addiction

can turn hearts yellow

i want to be

the one she calls

on her cigarette break

not the cause of it

***

i have caught

a passing glimpse of you

but now you have become

the unseen

you are nothing

to be afraid of

yet i fear

your presence

and what you symbolize

this is a room of symbols

and you have found yourself

within

and now

i sit prostrate

before the altar

i sense you are under

having sensed your true presence

you are a true sight to behold

you could fit perfectly

into the palm of my hand

but your presence

fills this entire space

and i am filled

as you are welcome

***

it is we that are emaciated

our bodies subject

to our mind’s propaganda

forgive the distinction

but intellect fares

moment’s genocide

and we should have kissed

hours ago

you hold your breath

when you should hold your tongue

and hold your tongue

when you should hold my hand

and i should delegate

more authority to myself

but i can’t help thinking

that you are thinking

thinking

what is she thinking?

***