cornerings (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

cornerings
(is a must so very difficult to realize:
finding one in a bubbular world void
of gravitational appeal) 

loving you for myself

with whom i have sat through many songs
and walked through the fires of many tribulations
with whom i have grown a many new seed
and seen their bones buried out there in the road
at whose face i never was looking
‘cause i saw myself there
was so satisfied

i remember how you use’ta say
and when’you’did’yourself there in such a way
and i always loved the thangs you done
and the sound of how you said
“the smell of your dreams
they was always trying to whisper for you”
at whose face i never was looking
‘cause i saw myself there
was so satisfied

and when we use’ta hold each other’s hand
you said this was always there in the way
and how they never let us come to the end
i never paid no never mind to what’your words
‘cause i coming so good when i rub’n wit you
at whose face i never was looking
‘cause i saw myself there
was so satisfied

and you passed on you left me here by myself
asking these walls what’you said to me then
and sucking the floors wait’n there in the hall
if they kept anything that you spilled on’em then
every night laying here on your side of the bed
smelling for the whispering that i never heard
i’m trying to come to the end
that i missing with you then 

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

corners

the softly stabbing sadness
of long worried nights
laying here waiting across my face
and the memories i swallow then yesterday
is what i lean up against
here in my head
these things they stay with me
this how i know i aint dead

when things i do they shackle me
my blood it pourd so endlessly
and this air so thick
it smothering me
is what i lean up against
here in my head
these things they stay with me
this how i know i aint dead

notions of you
that i’m too scared to dare
my other little thoughts
they going no where
and the nipples of things
that i wish they could be
is what i lean up against
here in my head
these things they stay with me
this how i know i aint dead

Copyright © 1995 Asili Ya Nadhiri

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