January 2007


Your strength is not  compromised by your tears 

You made it though the hard times before, despite your fears

Your support has constantly remained in the arrears         

But some how you’re been able to hold it down, and persevere

With grace, strength and qualities that endears

Your children know that you stand alone

But oblivious to your fears of the unknown

How do you make ends meet? Is a problem for the grown

You put them first, your happiness can be postponed

All the worries, grief and heartaches are for you to own

You’re just not making it, but your holding it down like what

 Steady kicking open doors that were once shut

You got kids to feed, and no one else seems to give a f&*k

Choice in co-parent like any gamble, you crap out and s&*t out of luck

But no satisfaction to the haters, so with your head up high, you strut

From getting up so early and going to bed so late

Balancing masterfully cause you have so much on your plate

Still looking good, keeping yourself up, no dates or no mate

Understanding that this just might be your fate

G-d seen your strength and competence to live in this state

Under this kind of pressure, some will never know

But Lord why me? He hears your cries of woe

You’re never ill equipped? G-d believes in quid pro quo

Seems reward for all this pain and strife is slow

Apropos, Developing a responsible adult, the gift to bestow

 And your final reward, heaven only knows….

Copyright © 2006 Pinkemeralds Poetry Vol. 1 



I sat in the pew knowing I’m just not like them

Just trust and believe, at times sounds a bit naive

I guess the Thomas in me will take me straight to purgatory  

According to them with such faithlessness, I’ll never reach glory

 Isn’t that the story?

I sat on those hard pews, knowing I prayed earnest prayers

Do you mean cause I listen to R&B, my G-d didn’t hear me?

I give into my flesh at times; I’m just not that strong

They say press in, and you won’t sin, but I’m sorry I guess I’m dead wrong

I look around and see perfection, knowing that in no way I belong

I even sat in the choir stand, consecrated and tried that way

Each time, I failed so miserably; my flesh continue to betray

Wow, how do you do it? I see no signs of struggle with life

Looks like they haven’t been through my personal pain or strife

I guess it’s my wicked way that keeps me astray

But I feel that my G-d loves me anyway, sounds insane?

I sat in the pew last Sunday listening for something in their voice

Trying to swallow all the things they say, some statements seemed foisted

 I know it’s in the Good Book, but I seem to always fall short

Just feels like I’m the only one with this issue, so this pew feels so uncomfortable

Which one of you found it as hard as I do?

I sat in the pew, prayed to Him in gratitude, I’m no fool, knowing it’s only Christ

Entering His gate with thanksgiving, I owe Him my very life

I just don’t color in the lines, am I fooling myself, Lord give me a sign

Cause you made me who I am, from the contrariness to conformity

But to what I choose to apply it to seems the real query

I sat at the back when I was youth, opening doors, walking the floors

Sitting people in seats, and trying hard to establish a good rapport

But with whom did I do that for? Does that give me a good score?

Today I feel like I don’t fit, maybe I seen too much of the world to submit

But in this world is where you have to live, being of it is another commit

I sat in the pew in church, feeling estrange to people that I should embrace

To whom the blame belong for not feeling an arm around my waist

A little for me, a little for them, cause I know it’s a two-way road

But most people like me just stop going, not knowing if their story will be told

Cause it’s dreadful to feel you just don’t have a place to belong  

Especially it’s the very place at times, His presences seems so strong

So I remain sitting on this hard pew, hoping that maybe next Sunday is my day

Maybe someone will speak of lonely days, of finding it hard to pray

Of trouble seeming to last always, of feeling lost in this big life maze

Of not understand why things are this way, of why love seems to be a game

Of how everyone does not have to have the same display

So until then I’ll sit in the pew, trying to shake off my Sunday morning blues

Copyright © 2006 P.P. Vol. 1


There’s no substituting you, but I really tried to

Was trying real hard to get over you, so any fool would do

And a fool is what I found, ignorance that was so profound

That’s what I get for trying so hard, keeping my heart on guard

No one but you makes my body have spasms,  had to think of you for my enthusiasm

Pungent odor from another, but your sweet fragrance natural body essence

Touches my nose goes right to my heart and soul, oh acquiescence

Body like a Greek G-d, chiseled, strong, mocha and taste as exceptional

Thinking of your Mocha pressed against my Khaki, hmmm, so phenomenal

Charismatic words melts all ills, lost in your arms and wooed by your charm

Craving your presence, ur style, ur uniqueness , all my defense are disarmed

Significant that only you can stimulate my mind, to create such rhymes

Only you can embrace me in so many ways, my mind, body and spirit

My heart was captured by a thief with an amazing smile, you as the culprit

My rosebud becomes thick, enriched with a flick from your finger tips

And when your lip gently touches it, seems like there’s a total eclipse

A whole years seems so long to wait, but there’s just no equivalent

But to think of waiting in vain is distressing, can’t handle your ambivalence

So I am at a crossroad of life, ready to love with all my heart, to no end

Trying to move on, with my heart attached to you, but looking for a new friend

It feels at time no matter how I try this broken heart of mines will never mend

Nothing anyone can recommend, just at a pitiful soul, trap by the horror of love

Wishing it was the type of love that beautiful, melodic songs are made of

Instead it’s the one unrequited fools find themselves blinded by, how maligned?

So I guess any fool will do, any fool that will help me get over you

Guess that all I can do, until I wake up one day with a heart anew

And I hope that’s soon…..

Copyright © 2006 P.P. Vol. 1


Your poems are so prudy, so sexy, so alluring to read

Lines fill of dicks, clits, sexy sh*t to mentally satisfy needs

Passion, promises, zeal, line to line, mentally f*#king the mind

Must be stimulating to know mental orgies are intertwined

So many ladies at one time, you as the man is a masterful design

Bravo Mister you got them all wet, slippery, and like feens

Now what Mister, you got their attention, like puppets on a string

Is your mission accomplished? Do you take it off the page?

Do you try for distribution, or this the extent of this engage?

I guess this audience makes you happy, you are the man here

Who can mental sex you, say I love you plus sound so sincere

Give out hugs, back rubs, pour wine, carnation cost only a thin dime

But your making all these ladies feel good, and that aint no crime

So thank you for those stimulating words, and the deep coos at night

It came in handy along with the batteries waiting for my Knight

But Imma take this off screen, PC affix don’t include that black thing

Nobody can mentally get me off like you, so thanks for the fling

If by chance you want to come out behind the screen, gimme a call

You don’t have to type, imagine, I actually have them sugar walls

The contraction, the gasping, the thrusting, the loving is real

Outside the box combining mental with the feel, it’s ideal

Until then enjoy the ladies, the attention, the mental f*#ks

But Mister don’t get to caught up, find yourself sh*t outta luck

Cause if you passed me by, they’re were others just like me

But you probably so damn busy trying to find love’s guarantee

The funny part is for some reason you think it’s on screen

Copyright © 2006 P.P. Vol. 1.