“Penny: I wish I’d met you a long time ago. When we were kids.

Dodge: It couldn’t have happened any other way. It had to happen now.

Penny: But it isn’t enough time.

Dodge: It never would have been.” —From “Seeking A Friend For The End Of The World” (2012)

Laying on your chest I wonder internally why I couldn’t have met you sooner.

Because now that your heart has moved along it just follows that maybe I could have spent more time loving you.

Maybe I could have spent more time wanting you,

flaunting you in my heart to my mind knowing time was on my side and not against me.

Having kissed your lips I wonder painfully why I couldn’t have met you sooner.

Because lunar visions compare nothing to the sunlit manifestations of time well spent together.

I never imagined someone like you could give someone like me the time of day.

It never dawned on me that my heart would yearn for you but my mind would say start preparing for the inevitable fall.

Having felt your spirit commune with mine I wonder defeated why I couldn’t have met you sooner.

Because no sooner than learning your name would I have desired to make it my own.

Your name is sweeter than the smiles you once smiled and the contact with my flesh I remember best.

But,

now I’m seeking a love for the end of the world, or the end of my world as I know it,

or,

the end of your love in my life.

That is a better description of life ending for me.

There’s no card

tie 

or tangible gift I can bestow upon You 

to communicate exactly why You

are big in my life and in that of my brothers and sisters.

You, are my lifeline. Literally.

If it hadn’t been for you giving me life I may have been waiting an eternity for an experience that would never come.

But You, You’re the one who loves me unconditionally more so than I love myself

and You have wealth beyond any man in my life has ever had—

You’re my Dad 

my Daddy,

my Heavenly Father who had me at “I love you”.

I adore You and Your precepts. 

I give You honor and the fruits left of my labor.

I love Your words and the flavor of favor left on my lips.

I love when its particularly difficult to relate to people that You’re always right there,

and that You’re always right where I need You,

never late and always on time.

I love You because You’re mine and simultaneous everyone else’s.

You Father, are so perfect and I aspire to be more like You.

My reason for being,

Earthly breathing and believing,

my life is all that I can give to you.

For the fathers who still insist on calling women “bitches”—

this is my sincere prayer for your daughters:

May she never meet a man like you,

a hypocritical representation of conditional love.

Just because you don’t “know her name” doesn’t mean she isn’t someone else’s daughter

and as a father

I’m sure you can understand that.

In fact,

there are about x amount of men lined up waiting to call your daughter a bitch and its food for thought when next you’d like to fix your lips around the phrase.

I hope she stays far and completely away from men like you,

a hypocritical contradiction of respect.

Just because she hasn’t yet come crying to you because someone called her out of her name doesn’t mean it isn’t going to happen,

and as a parent

I’m sure you can understand that.

In fact,

there are x amount of women waiting to call your daughter a bitch and insist that its with affection.

I hope she stays far from men like you and lets ‘em find someone else.

Anyone else but her.

Catch Verandah-Maureen on tour as she stops in Philadelphia TONIGHT! 6/13

Dowling’s Palace “Jus Words”
1310 N. Broad Street Philadelphia, PA
(215) 236-9888 
8pm $5 cover

www.verandahmaureen.com

Tuesday 6/11- Bareburger New York, NY
Thursday 6/13- Jus’ Words Philadelphia, PA
Friday 6/14- Funkadelic Studios New York, NY
Tuesday 6/18- Bareburger New York, NY
Wednesday 6/19- Spoken Word Mixer Baltimore, MD
Tuesday 6/25- Busboys and Poets, Washington, DC (14th &V)
Friday 6/28- Urban Juke Joint New York, NY
Tuesday 7/2- Coffee Cave Newark, NJ
Tuesday 7/9- Bareburger New York, NY
Wednesday 7/10- Busboys and Poets, Washington, DC (14th & V)
Thursday 7/11- The Epic 12 Showcase Sidewalk Cafe, New York, NY
Friday 7/12- Funkadelic Studios New York, NY

 I’ve been indirectly told my Black isn’t beautiful because my Black doesn’t suggest the same struggles as my darker skinned sisters.

The Blacker the berry the sweeter the juice but 

what about strawberries and raspberries and all the other redboneberries who desire to be suckled upon?

Don’t get me wrong—

my brown skin people are flawless regardless but,

what about us?

Us, “too pretty” and “too conceited”.

Us, too fair skinned to be treated fairly.

What about my light skin Black? Is THAT beautiful too?

The Blacker the berry the sweeter the juice seems to suggest my roots don’t matter. Is my juice curdled like milk just for being fair skinned?

I’ve been indirectly told my Black isn’t beautiful because my Black doesn’t suggest the same struggles as my darker skinned sisters.

Instead it suggests the historical rape by slavery misters and masters— my skin reeks of struggle.

The Blacker the berry the sweeter the juice but

what to say of those whose roots are mixed?

Are we picked? Or are we left on the vine?

The Blacker the berry the sweeter the juice seems to suggest my roots aren’t yet fully matured,

and what’s more,

that they’ll never be

because I can’t ever be as dark as my sisters whose juice is sweeter and whose color is apparent. 

I’ve been indirectly told my Black isn’t beautiful because my Black doesn’t suggest the same struggles as my darker skinned sisters.

But if I mention it, I’m acting “light skinned”.

“Skool Daze” the third album, available for free download Tuesday July 31, 2013

I’m confused.

I live amongst a race of people who’s genuine idea of heritage has nothing to do with Africa.

Can someone tell them that’s where we ALL came from?

And being biracial apparently I don’t have an image, I’ve got to make one—

sometimes I feel like a slut, sometimes I don’t.

Sometimes to prove I’m a “nigga”, sometimes I won’t articulate intelligent thought—

wait,

folks have already bought into that.

Folks have accepted it as fact and believe it to be true.

I’m… confused.

I live amongst a race of humans who’s understandings of “Blackness” pour from hair and skin color.

Can someone tell them that my mother is my own, she didn’t adopt me.

Can someone tell them that though police don’t stop me, they also won’t protect me.

Wait,

that’s just my angry black woman venting—

busting at its seams.

I don’t know what it means, or so it seems, to be black.

I’m confused.

I live amongst a race of mortals who’s quick to call me angry for speaking,

ignorant for silence.

Quick to say I deserved “it” if just a hint of excuse is provided—

“she showed her thighs with intention of wanting attention”.

I’m confused, I thought “Yes” was the only time she lets him.

I’m confused, what’s a person of color? A Toddler’s profession?

I’m confused, I thought Black was the shade of a crayon.

I’m confused, I thought apathy was a clever political play on

things being thrown at my people, my people being thrown into shame.

I’m confused, what’s in a name? An overlooked resume, perhaps?

I’m confused, and THAT’S what society thinks is par for the course.

I’m confused.

I live amongst a race of beings who’s genuine idea of heritage has nothing to do with God.

Without Him, understanding is hard.

Hell, some days, it still is.

Like a train wreck, I couldn’t look away.

They say, “if you see something, say something” 

so I said something yet somehow it blew up in my face anyway.

He said he wasn’t “good enough” for me.

Translation: He wasn’t really feeling me

but allowed his curiosity to get the best of him.

So like the rest of them he was an unattainable,

“emotionally unavailable” carrot dandling over my exercise wheel.

This was him letting me down gently—

or as gently as heavy blows to the heart and ego can be made.

He said he’d “saved” me from himself.

Dear Christian Mingle, 

No. I will not allow you to find God’s match for me.

I won’t allow you to be the only source of my hope.

My help meet isn’t Waldo waiting to be found among other lookalikes and could sorta bes—

He’s more of a Highlights magazine “Spot The Difference”.

If God wanted my love right clicked it would have been virtual reality he made on the 7th day instead of resting.

Christian Mingle I’m not bitter I just know better and I’m no better off even if I use you,

because God, should He choose to, can derail even your tried and true methods.

“Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing” seems to suggest I need to be sought after rather than do the seeking.

Or so I’m thinking…

I’m not knocking the hustle because God uses the simple things to confound the wise but my heart won’t be confounded in the same manner.

So every time I see a commercial, an internet banner just know that love can still be found the old fashion way

and one day, I’ll prove that.

The children now are speaking in tongues that the adults don’t understand,

and the only time they sing “Amen” is with Meek Mills and them.

Marvin we still don’t know what’s going on

and our inner city blues are leaving our people battered, bruised

bullets with no regard to whose body its destined for strike and it just makes me wanna holler and throw up both my hands— 

dance and,

fight battles that aren’t mine.

This is a letter to my sons.

To my boys, the ones who’ll grow up in a society that wants to be like them yet fears them.

They’ll be young men stereotyped into basketball and inaccurate representations of Christ hanging on gold chains— they’ll know that He got up again.

This is a letter to my sons.

To my princes, the one’s who’ll eventually question their royalty,

who’ll consider conformity

and have their hearts broken by women.

To my sons, who’ll give more than they’re given

To my namesakes, who’ll break more molds than they fit in

this is to them.

“Skool Daze” The third album. Available for free download Tuesday July 31, 2013.

When we made love we neglected the instructions.

We forgot that there was lust with just a convenient serving of real desire.

We made love without the fire required to activate all the ingredients.

Most of all we weren’t obedient to the Master Of Making…

We made love without taking our clothes off or making our walls soft— easier for penetration.

So the love we made was confirmation of our poor crafting skills.

When we made love we had yet to deal with the other bubbling pots on the burners.

We were students,

culinary love learners given Bs for effort.

When we made love there were so many utensils haphazardly dropped,

so many puddles left lazily unmopped,

plenty burns and bruises to the ego.

When we made love, as far as we know, we included some eggshells, similar to the kind we’re still traipsing around.

When we made love we made it how youngsters craft with Easy Bake Ovens—

ingredients made of virtually nothing and water.

When we made love we should have called for our adult selves to assist us.

Maybe then the opportunity to make real love wouldn’tve missed us and we wouldn’t be stuck pretending there isn’t a kitchen of mess.

“Skool Daze” The third album. Available for free download Tuesday July 31, 2013.

I’m here.
You’re here.
We’re here conveniently.
We’ve come without confusion as to where we’ll be sleeping we—
we’ve seen this movie before.
I’ll conveniently draw lines you aren’t allowed to but dared to cross anyway.
You’ll look up and say, “its getting late”, and I’ll hate the way you’ll say it—
as if it were my fault you made yourself so convenient.

I’m here.
You’re here.
We’re here conveniently.
We’ve set ourselves up without shame as to how we’ll be sleeping we—
we’ve done this song and dance before.
You’ll explore the curves of my hips as if its road unknown.
I’ll reach for my phone, its vibration foreshadowing whats to come,
and it’ll be no one so I’ll turn it off completely.

I’m here.
You’re here.
We’re here conveniently.
We’ve made it so we’re always here however conveniently sleeping we—
we’ve said before it would stop.
By morning you’ll swear it was not either of our faults, that fate is taking its course and we,
we’re just conveniently
going 
along 
with
it.

inmyhead16 replied to your photo: “Skool Daze” The third album Tuesday July 31, 2013

Where can I find the other 2??

“The Renaissance” (2011) and “Twenty5” (2012) are available as free downloads here: http://verandahmaureen.com/creativeworks.php