Monday, January 26, 2015

X̶̷̸̲̲̿

                                                                              X

                                                                 Hair: like bondage



                             it
              wraps            wraps
                   and        and
                        wraps
                  and        and
             wraps           wraps    
 
   around the arms and
not only stops movement
  but it slows down time
 
 
 
Bound by the hair on God's knuckles, it forces 
 them to reflect on every memory they
wish they could forget; thus, the
enjoyment in pulling out
your hair is found.
 
 
 
I know it hurts but continue sipping love nectar
until you're unrecognizable
 
    
 
 
 
be my bitch                                                                                          be what I'm looking for
 
 
                                                                     
 
 
 
 
and water me
 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
©2015 Anthony Desmond Scott. All Rights Reserved.
for Poetics
 
        




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Monday, January 5, 2015

Chapter One

Dig spoken word? take a listen...


Her heart was like a Polaroid camera
Old fashioned take her home to mama
Kinda love but instead
Of embracing her ambient light
They keep her in the dark
And never bothered to see her pretty picture
Go figure; she's not commercialized nor modernized
Like Retro Jordans for midnight release
She's more of an umbrella in the pouring rain
Searching for sunshine
Like a widow who's at her peak


But will they ever know? No.


In the age where Instagram on the iPhone 6
can replace a true photographer's weapon of choice
And the poet's mentioning of writing love
Letters gets a roll of the eye
I'm steady asking myself why should I even try?

Why even... when

The, “if you ain't fuckin',
then you ain't fuckin' with me”
State of mind is the reason why
Romance is dire need of resuscitation


Memoryscape by Nick Gentry 
 
We're gaining inspiration from artist, Nick Gentry for Poetics
 
 

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