The Cornerstorm of Urban Poetics

Archive for the ‘Romance’ Category


Posted by Dasun Allah on November 18, 2007

As she enters the apartment she is greeted by the fragrant aroma of incense, Egyptian Musk, and the bellowing baritone of Buju Banton emanating from two large strategically placed speakers. The house is dimly lit, yet it possesses a certain brilliance. As she makes her way to the living area, she notices about four or five candles, and that a porno flick is playing on the muted television screen. She watches as a Spanish guy sticks himself into a thick black chick with mad tattoos, and just as soon as he strokes, he shoots a glob of creamy goo onto her womanhood.

Her mind begins to wander, then centers on her host. He mumbles something about having the flick on to build up the energy of his passion, and that if she wanted, he would turn it off. Absently, she tells him it isn’t necessary as she takes off her coat and absentmindedly hands it off to him. He offers her something to eat. She declines and accepts a drink instead.

After he excuses himself to prepare her drink, she surveys her surroundings. She notices the computer, and thinks of all the times they had sent scandalous messages to each other, and imagines him sitting in that very chair stroking himself as he scanned down her latest offering. She examines his aquarium and marvels at how big the fish are. Big enough to make a meal, she thinks to herself. She wonders what they would taste like. She gets up and approaches the tank. As soon as she gets within a close proximity, one of the fish jumps and startles her. She steps back suddenly and almost bumps into her host, who was coming up behind her and almost knocks the drink out of his hand. He laughs and takes her by the hand to the couch, seats her, places the drink on the table and mounts her lap. He kisses her softly on her lips. Once. Twice. He pauses and looks her up and down slowly, as a lion would a gazelle.

shine eye girl

He licks his lips, then slowly licks hers. He kisses her again, sticking his tongue into her mouth. She can feel his anxiety, however he plays it cool. She knows he wants to rip her clothes off and fill her with his longing, to, as he had said numerous times, f*ck the living hell out of her. But despite his desire, he holds back. He was teasing her. Seducing her. And she was enjoying every minute of it.

to be continued…

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Posted by Dasun Allah on November 10, 2007


I found myself thinking of her everyday and wondering if it was really love or was it infatuation. The bee had lit upon the flower. I knew that it could be real, but did she? Did it matter?

Make it real and she will be real.

Everybody comes into your life for a particular purpose and one cannot allow another person’s wants to cloud what it is that they have to do in life. One just has to be honest with themselves in that regard and not think that it is some great big and/or bad thing. It is what it is.

As for me, I am filled with so much love and so much guilt and so much desire and so much ambition that I have often been paralyzed by it and was waiting for a Princess Charming to come and give me the kiss to break me out of the slumber. The inability to action, the frustration, the fist clenching table pounding frustration that can overcome one’s drive if unchecked.

black lovers

I know what I have done wrong and I move to stop doing it. Although at times it seems I can’t do it all by myself, even though I am capable, because I am compelled by other factors to divide my strength. Or was I making excuses?

One must know that they are working it out and life changes the rules all the time, so what the fucking difference does it make? Life cheats. But life is an illusion.

Patient. Detached. Always Fearless. But Feel-Less, not quite.

We may be Fearless
but we have Feelings

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