Kwansaba Poem

Lost my memory but still self intouch
Given away my heart, broken by lust
Done all that I can to sustain
forgive me and forgave, still no change
How easily I forget, the pain remains
Sullen feelings and a strong salty taste
Tear tracks show proof on my face.


~Flowriter

Have you missed me?

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The way that my words travel on lines.
The mysterious ways that my message is conveyed in rhymes.

Just like the way my lips gently kiss...
And holding in my tongue that loves to lick.

Tell me, baby, have you missed me?

How about the rumble of my voice...
Sweetly whispering in your ear?

Portraying vivid pictures of love,
That can only be seen with my pen.
But, once the words are said, pleasure appears.
Taking you to a galaxy of bliss.
Erasing your worries, gently stroking your fears, &
enhancing your senses with my tongue tricks... and lyrical licks.
Not to mention, the way that my pen flips.
Ooh...and they way you catch every drip...
I miss you!

Tell me, baby, have you missed me?

I know that it hasn't been the same since I haven't been inside ya.
But, baby I'm back...on track, pen in hand, your poet...Flowriter.

Ready to take my time.
Make love with every loop, bend, and twist.
You know how my pen likes to grind.
And baby, know this, you've been missed.
And I promise...
I'll never again stay away like this.

I know, don't say it... I've been missed.

Kiss. Kiss.

-Flowriter

The answer to my daughter who asked how have I been

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Here's a little something for you and to let you know how I've been at the same time....


I've watched the moon set and seen the casting of a new day.
I've been seeing this action occur over and over again...
and in the same way.

Never to take the loneliness that I feel in my heart.
Never to relieve the emptiness that I feel in my mind.
Never to take away the contempt that I have.
Only to constantly reoccur and I can't rewind time.

Knowing this, I try to make the best of Sun and Moon that I see.
But it's the yesterdays, not the tomorrows, that continue to trouble me.
It's my essence that has been split into three...
But I'm still alone and alone there's only me.

Told to have faith, so faith is what I have.
Wishing to be back together, but it's that wishing that drives me mad.
For that yesterday is not tomorrow...
And the loneliness of tomorrow is what makes me sad.

Wanting a fortune to befall upon me.
That way my love could reach all the way to tomorrow...
reunite my essence... And set my soul free...
and let my love be felt wherever my essence is...All the way to eternity.

I've lost my rib, my soul is incomplete, it's been joined to another...
And my essence barely knows, if even recognizes me.
Yet time it continues and doesn't seem to slow.
My pen, I befriend, and my soul...I let it flow.

Another Sun and Moon, I guess that I will be blessed to see.
If not, or if so, it doesn't matter when you are alone.
When I can't say D.C.Y, S.E.Y L.A.D.Y come give me a hug...
Daddy's home.

-Flowriter

Capturing Butterflies

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Early in the morning, I'd hardly seen any.
But as the sun would rise & warm the earth...
Fluttering & beautifully decorated, I'd see plenty.

Carousing with eachother.
Moving from flower to flower.
Dancing in the sky like lovers.
I'd watch them for hours.

They were so beautiful.

So, I decided to capture one of my own.
I imagined it with me,
beautifully decorated fluttering in my home.

I pictured it happy & content.
I even envisioned how our days would be spent.
I couldn't wait anylonger,
outside I went.
I had nothing to catch it...
Just my love & my hand.
So, out there in the middle of the summer day
Among all the butterflies, I stood, waiting for one to land.

Finally, one did.
I cupped my hands together.
I could feel it alive inside.
I ran into the house,
prepared to love my new butterfly.

Once in the house,
with the doors & windows shut.
I opened my hands,
then threw the butterfly up.

I noticed on my hands a powder of sort...&
The butterfly seemed to be struggling.
The way it flapped its wings & body began to contort.

Before long, it laid on its side on the floor.
I knew it was dead.
I took it outside.
I no longer dream of capturing butterflies... anymore.

I just bought some flowers.
And in the middle of the day...
I open the door.

-Flowriter