A Taste of Raw Suga
by Melanie YeYo Carter
Smashwords Edition
©2009 Melanie YeYo Carter
Smashwords Edition, License
Notes
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Melanie YeYo Carter
http://www.atasteofrawsuga.com
ISBN 13: ISBN 13: 978-0-9789355-5-9
Whirlwind Publishing
110 Cypress St. #202
Brookline, MA 02445
Many of you know that April is National Poetry Month which is a very significant time in the poetry world. During this month, many of us participate in something known as the 30/30 Challenge.
The 30/30 Challenge requires each participating poet to write at least one poem EVERY DAY in the month of April. This year, I decided to be a part of this challenge. And around day 5, I decided to give birth to the brain child that you have before you.
Those of you in the RAW SUGA' family that have been walking with me through this know it has been an interesting adventure. I’ve remembered some things, learned some things & embraced some things. As a whole, I’ve simply been living.
I want to thank each & every one of you who have been there…lingering between my words.
So this is for you. I give you A Taste of RAW SUGA’…
~Melanie YeYo Carter~
“You fight with an inner strength…all the way down through your core…Because anything worth loving is worth fighting for.” – Quise ‘The Notebook’ Williams
The Order of Madness
Flat Line
BLOOD WORDS
My Greatest Love Poem –For My Mom
Flights of Sensual Fancy
Confession of a Mistress
Shadow Boxing with Ninjas
There’s No Crying in Baseball
Superman Complex
INTENTIONS
“GIVE US US FREE!”
Wishful Thinking
Unchained Jones
A Safe Substitute – Letter From a Reformed Cutter
Safe Haven – For Quise
When?
Reggae Zone
Translation of a Kiss
Tale of an Angry Heart
Lady Poetry
Ye Yo: M.O.T.H.E.R.
Let Me
Gun Tag
She Does It Well
POET AT WORK
Triangulated Misery
Poisonous Predictions
BREAKING NEWS!
Laughter of a Mad Woman
3 Letter Word –Haiku
Why You Do This
Flat Line
(1/30)
beep…beep…beeeeeeeep….
FLAT LINE
Most of us know this sound.
It’s the unsavory lullaby of
of a loved one on their way
to die.
But, like most songs written
on a heartache scale,
it will be remembered
in a twisted way.
They say…
it was like 9/11 dropped
in the room & said:
“Look at me now.
Feel me now….”
Falling around them like
concrete in Georgia heat…
& it’s June.
So yea, the truth is drying
but pain just ain’t dying beneath the rubble.
And ain’t nothin’ subtle
except the fact that they
didn’t see death coming.
Actually
They did but I pity the foolish
hearts that somehow believe,
if they love with enough conviction,
death will sympathize with
the human condition
Death shows sympathy for
no man
And he won’t let nothing get
in the way
So, there she lies
wondering:
“How did I get here in
the first place?
Where will be my final
destination?”
beep…beep…beeeeeeep
“Is that for me?
Some distorted call on my
soul?
I see the tears on their faces
but, truth be told,
these bones are tired.
I’m exhausted from searching
for humane actions in an
inhumane society.
For long enough,
I’ve carried the world on
my shoulders
but what about my daughter?
Because no one will love her
like mama loves her”
And for reasons unknown,
her mind revisited a prayer of old:
“Now I lay me down to sleep…
I pray my Lord my soul to keep…
If I should die…”
beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep
FLAT LINE
Most of us know this sound.
It’s the unsavory lullaby of
of a loved one on their way
to die.
And one day,
we will all walk this line.
Blood Words
(2/30)
For a moment, we are going to pretend
that FOREVER doesn’t come to an end.
Pretend the vibrant scent of our roses
won’t turn to a stifling stench of shit
when we get around life’s corner.
But you & I…
we know these roses have thorns
that pierce our logic
while they crucify our minds.
We’re holding on with both hands
and every time we touch,
we exchange blood words.
But we are giving birth to possibility
I know some would say that this
wasn’t meant to be
But they were not there…
couldn’t see.
The first time you walked into my life
& spoke YOURSELF into MY existence
solidified the fact
that I couldn’t go back to a world without you.
You even had the nerve to etch your presence
in my heart stone
as if you knew you had the power to do so;
Etching with lightning rods of
acceptance.
Taking who I am…& who I was
with some type of god like love
in the form of man;
which is not easy considering.
I know loving me is some twisted
form of suicide because some
pieces of you will die too
when I’m gone.
But baby, you know everything
about this feels like home.
Yet, as beautiful as this may seem,
we both know, it will end tragically.
That’s my struggle.
Many will say what right did she
have to make him love her
knowing one day she would
become some painful memory;
a ghost in your haunted house
of horrors.
They will say why didn’t they just face the truth
but whose truth are they talking about anyway?
This is my truth.
Hell, if this world were mine,
I would go to God just to ask for you.
Now, some will say I’m on a crash
course with a train wreck
but fuck that…
I see it as a one way ticket to happiness
& I’m takin’ it.
I know you see me
so I’m standing here internally naked.
And they may say this is not fair
but the situation was a lose-lose
because God was unfair when he
constructed you;
knowing I would so easily love you
knowing I would fall like every rising
sun sets;
unable to forget the first time I
heard your voice.
So let them say this was never
meant to be!
Because they were not there
couldn’t see;
And dammit, I know my forever
land is temporary
but I will share it with
you for as long as I can
scrolling my insides across uncharted seas
& scattered skies
and ironically, unlike me,
these blood words will never die.
My Greatest Love Poem – For My Mother
(3/30)
This is the love poem I could never write
when adult woes got in the way of my
adolescent living
but this is not about me.
This is the love letter I could never send;
somehow seeming more important than others.
This is a closed diary to my mother.
I have to tell her the things she
doesn’t know.
She…this short thang, under 5 three,
was my first superhero.
This being of Venus has been woman
longer than she was child
because she found herself WITH child
& wore the responsibility.
She wore her young motherhood
& walked in those shoes
long before being a teen mom was
so readily accepted or seen as ‘cool’.
She went against the grain of adversity:
being a mother slash student slash wife
Not only graduating once…
SHE DID IT TWICE:
high school & then college.
She was never lead to be a follower.
So she lived to her on rhythm
with a quiet, strong essence never
revealing her blues.
And if she felt it, she never put the
weight of her life on our groove.
But crazy enough, she wasn’t done.
Her hero days had just begun.
The slash student was now replaced with a career
And the last of the Carters was here.
It was me;
complicated melody;
unorthodox paradox.
The child that made my parents
reinvent their disciplinary actions
to help me tame this wildfire spirit.
They tried to give me tools of
life that would help me live it
but for reasons beyond our control,
my mother & I grew distant
or should I say I grew distant &
our relationship got lost as she tried to reach me.
But I was too far gone & turned her beautiful home
into a battleground sometimes
and in the midst of this, my soul
became poet.
Yet, this beautiful woman was always
my inspiration & didn’t know it
because even with the differences between us
I couldn’t help but secretly think,
“I wanna be like you when I grow up.
I want to be a fighter like you & be strong
know what it’s like to overcome
when those hard times beat at my door.
But what’s more…
I wanna learn to love like you
because you could’ve gave up on
me a long time ago
but you just keep telling satan no.
He can’t have me…”
So ma, this is for you:
the words I could never say
the love poem I could never write
the feelings I’ve kept locked away
for centuries.
Ma, I’m sorry for the heart breaks & disappointments.
Sorry I didn’t love you enough
but, I have to tell you that you & your story are a
part of the reason I’m no longer afraid.
I look at the mold of woman
from which I came
and I know I’m on the horizon of great things.
So don’t you ever think I don’t love you.
Don’t you ever think I don’t respect you
and know you were my
superhero long before I knew anything about Maya Angelou.
See mama…
you are my phenomenal woman.
Flights of Sensual Fancy
(4/30)
touching…
hands molding my body
like potter’s clay into
submission
kissing…
like the next breath of my
life exists between your
lips
grinding…
hips meeting at a center
point on waves of
prolonged ecstasy
kneeling…
knees bent before a
firm & beautifully
constructed tree of life
moaning…
tongue influenced by
soul conversations soaked
with heated confessions
exploring…
flesh discovering new
altitudes as unchained
passion explodes in
uncharted territory
creating…
still shots of shadows on
walls in dark rooms
where seductive things
are exposed
crying…
intertwined spirits screaming
through skin & bone
until they scrape the
night sky in surrender
sipping…
drinking from each other’s
vineyard as we drown
under the influence
of satisfaction
watching…
artistic strokes on display
within the walls
of my love drunk studio
floating…
on tides of naked madness
laced with intimate bare
emotions on a physical
plain
melting…