giving up

you say you still love me
You say you still love me?

I'll never give you the, “I've heard it before” lines
because, you know that I have,
through the strength that I'd gained,
from the heartache in my past
& I've learned through life & pain,
not to hold that past, as shackles to what I'm trying to build & maintain

You say letting go is too hard to do, when you really love some one
now you know who I am, I'm always gon keep it real
there were two parts to 'this' vibration, when harmonies blended

you began to yield... to an inner self arrogance & pride
that you withheld, when there was no need for pretending,
I like shit straight to the point,
spoofing should be held, for those who choose to ride the train of 'chance'
I love the rain, but don't pull me out before I dance in it

it prevented a solid unity, creating a huge divide
you know my kind, we been here a while,
Eye Am a rid-a die, who has chosen not to remain chained,
following the bloody droplet stains of my heart,
cherishing memories from a distant beginning,
but stopping not a second longer, in this stunted ending,

continuing to digest lessons & once again, strength for elevation,
knowing the heightened fire withIn me
can no longer endure, an unsure heart,
mouldering my goals & smothering my soul's desires...
right here, right now....Eye feel you,
& wonder if you hear the repetitive notes,
producing no tunes, which play-out before they begin...

Eye listen, no longer able to hear,
no longer in anger, but in tiresome vain
I want to stand clear
of motionLessNess & soundLessness phrases & actions,
which are only vocal blurs,
on the the merry-go-bound Her's Souls seeking...
I can no longer concur, the actions that initially created a bond,
causing me to ponder, on how true love changes,
realEyezing It doesn't, if It's essentially true,
as mine has always been for the life-flight,
until left stranded by the way-side, hitchhiking,
clutching my heart in my hand, & I've gotten a lift again ….
a Soul ride....

See any facade grows old, because, it isn't truly you...
& now the thirst is dry, belonging to yesteryear,
& has roughly landed us here, at what began as One pathway,
now a broken path of two

letting go Is hard to do......
when you 'Really' love someone,
I've worn & bore the anguish of it for the past few years,
speaking to closed ears, as distance carried on its way,
creating this wedge, resting within our vibrations,
disturbing the beat & flow in our songs,
taking the flow out of the cadence, as your ear's drums....rested....
to my cries....the love ache I bled for has dried...

giving up Is so hard to do,
when you 'Really' love someone.....
but when you're post-fighting for lost compassion, comfort, & stability
& the many things unlimited She offers,
versus fighting during the fight, to hold tight, to “the love of your life”
that is what Love does....it Moves..
You......
never clung to Her invested pleasures,
taken for granted, that She would always emptily, be waiting
If so, you would have noticed our lost ways
how do you let go of something you never 'held' the value of?
for our heart's freedom & the truth of love's wings
let me fly, stop trying to taper my wings,
trying to figure out things, your soul should know
giving up was so hard to do, but I didn't have to
I noticed the vacancy in my heart,
with the slip of your hand, from withIn mine, a long time ago


© 7/30/13 LeTisha.W.Bowie

Here I Am

Salutations King, ….Your poetic Soul has lifted my wings,
I happen to be a known soul expressionist, 
typically releasing from within the depths of My Being,
no longer fearing the reprimands of those who have no understanding 
of where I’ve been, where I am, or where I stand,
Yes, it tickles my voluptuous fanny pink,
that the King has had it up to my skirt, with my flirt
So, I’m gon’ jus’ unbutton my shirt,
open the doorway to My bare soul,
for a spill & let the dice roll…
I came across Your unique style….Ohhh it’s been a while now..
diving into the pools of Your respect for Wombman, 
the free revelations of Your past, Your current, Your hope…of Your stance,
peeping out Your love of YourStory, OurStory and roots 
that have brought You to King, from the man You once were…
wondering if You will forever reap Karma for what You sowed,
as you lay seeds for ReBirthing.

I’m beckoned Spiritually, without a tug, 
embracing Your XXX’s & OOO’s, 
holding dearly to what I no longer behold,
the missing pieces that just spilled onto the pages,
as I opened this door....
as I live the life set before most…before me….
form-fitting the standards taught to be, 
those which aren’t branched from the roots, of which we come

I’m a delicate, unsealed, painted canvas of love,
digesting the words of a Master Poet’s story all over my acrylic,
only conscious visionaries can see My tears,
So, while you thought you were watching me first,
I was a sideline soul, buried in silent cries, bathing in salty tears,
listening to you speak from “My” heart,
only allowing concealed dreams to spill from my pen tips,
writing in the color of my tears,
spelling out H o w d i d I g e t h e r e ?
& why did I miss you?
until the pages ripped, tearing a new whole in my soul

totally relied on scriptures taught in my youth,
from a Word that wasn’t mine, hearing nor answering my screams,
delivering me such a brute love boomerang of pain, 
over and over again,
I did revealing one dream of hope in a poem,
I still recall your inspiration, that as long as we dream, there is hope…

I really thought you were so dope, a fly ancient Soul,
& knowing the less I said, the least sin on my head,
as the gavel of hell had beat me to dread the smiles You bring,
as you speak of UnIty, 
of lost Black Souls, Blood Diamonds & Gold from the Motherland
Your love letters of playing footsies under the moon, in love bosoms rolling down hills,
giggling ‘til we’d have to catch our breaths, and rather than catch our own, 
we’d catch each others’ in a kiss
I say hell….I’m gon flux with His flow….
How can I pass Your love letters by as if I hadn’t fell long ago?
but couldn’t let you or my girlfriends know,
that I was trapped in a web,
educating mySelf through Your continued Selfless, Self-education,
sharing of hope & faith of Our future
No One knows My heart doesn’t pump blood, but tears,
diggin’ how You do You, 
real enough to lay Your heart splattered like road-kill,
just to pick up the pieces and rebuild a King,
deserving to call me Beautifully Beloved &
I wonder if I could Call you My Enchanting Dear,
On a pillow talk night, right after we turn off Our Lights, ……

© 10/1/12 LeTisha.Woods