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Posts Tagged ‘spoken word’

Can’t Make Up My Mind

Posted by tpegonline on March 2, 2012

This poem is a series of 16 haiku poems that are strung together in a series to tell a story. I call this style that I created a haiku chain poem. According to Dictionary.com, a haiku is a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons; or a poem written in this form.

In this poem, I’m writing about how men may sometimes be conflicted about choosing the one they want to be with. I hope you all like it.

Can’t Make Up My Mind
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2012
All rights reserved

_____________________________________

Apples. Oranges.
You can’t argue about taste.
They’re both delicious.

Plump, sweet, juicy fruits.
Dancing all over my taste
buds. So good to eat.

Like my two angels.
One is a Haitian princess.
L3 the other.

By L3, I mean
Lovely, latin, lady. She
is Puerto Rican.

You know what? If we
say L3, we can
also say H3.

H3 is short for
Hot Haitian Honey. She is
so dag-on fine, y’all.

Chocolate brown skin.
Soft to the touch. I really
love it very much.

But the L3 is
pecan tan, round in the right
places. Lord help me.

Long, brown, corn silk hair.
Light brown eyes and kissable
lips. Wide, pointed hips.

H3, you’re built like
a guitar. Slim up top and
wide on the bottom.

When I pluck your strings,
you sing such a sweet song. True
music to my ears.

I love foriegn tongue.
Doing good! [N’ap boule!] You’re having fun! [Estas gosando!]
To hear and feel it.

Both are world class. Both
are eye candy. Both are what
men dream about. Yessss….

A decision has
to be made soon. I just can’t
have both. That’s too bad.

They both deserve a
man who gives them 100
percent – and then more.

Should I flip a coin?
Should I ask others to vote?
Can’t make up my mind.

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Please, Check Your Baggage

Posted by tpegonline on February 18, 2012

This poem is a series of 17 haiku poems that are strung together in a series to tell a story. I call this style that I created a haiku chain poem. According to Dictionary.com, a haiku is a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons; or a poem written in this form.

This poem is about when you meet someone who treats you poorly or never really gives you a chance because of something that happened in their past – what someone else did to them. It also could be because you yourself have broken their heart and are looking to get a second chance.

Also, whenever I mention a song title within the body of this poem, I hyperlink it to the song’s audio file on GrooveShark.com.

I hope that you like this piece.

“Please, Check Your Baggage”
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2012
All rights reserved.

______________________

You’ve been around the
world
, like Lisa Stansfield but still
ain’t found your baby.

You find what you seek.
If you look for cheaters, you’ll
find them. Search anew.

If you expect the
worst from men, that is what you’ll
get. These words are true.

The best man in the
world can be standing right in
front of you. See him?

If you have on the
wrong glasses, you can’t see things
clearly. Blind as bats.

Whatever happened
in the past, needs to stay there.
Keep your eyes forward.

Learn how to become
a gemologist — one who
knows diamonds when seen.

Know what you really
want from a lover. You must
be very precise.

If you do not know
where you want to go, any
path will get you there.

Love is a house. But
you said that love don’t live here
anymore
. So sad.

If you give me your
heart, you’d know love is under
new management
, hon.

Don’t be afraid, girl.
I’m here to love you and treat
you right
. Day and night.

Give yourself a fresh
start. You deserve much better.
Come and fly with me.

I have one rule though.
You can’t carry anything.
Please, check your baggage.

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What Kind of Man?

Posted by tpegonline on February 10, 2012

This poem is a series of 10 haiku poems that are strung together in a series to tell a story. I call this style that I created a haiku chain poem. According to Dictionary.com, a haiku is a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons; or a poem written in this form.

In this poem, I’m writing about the misogynistic behavior that some (not all, but some) direct toward black women. A lot of this comes from big boys – they are not men, but boys. You know, the kind of chumps that wear their pants like the guys pictured to the left.

Anyway, before I get into a full social commentary, I hope that you enjoy this piece and thank you in advance for taking the time to read this post.

What Kind of Man?
By Tyrone Turner
All rights reserved.

__________________________________________

Please tell me, people.
Who calls his women bitches,
hos, stunts, and skeezers?

Allowing them to be
presented to the world as
loose, godless, women.

Leaving the mothers
of their children behind to
struggle for themselves.

If you can’t drop loot
do not try to knock their boots.
Wrap it up, fellas!

You were born of a
woman. Don’t you have sisters
and daughters, my man?

So watch your foul mouth.
Offer them words of kindness.
Do not abuse them.

Our lovely women
are kissed by the sun and they
are so dag-on fine!

Their bodies are such
fecund fields that yield much fruit.
They are beautiful.

A confidant, friend,
lover, partner, coveted
prize. What a treasure.

So, will you be a
man that protects or harms her?
Damn. What kind of man?

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Our First Date

Posted by tpegonline on February 10, 2012

“Our First Date”
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2012
All rights reserved.

This is a rhyme-scheme poem where, as is my signature mark, the title of the poem is in the last line of the poem. This poem is an introspection with creative embellishments on how first encounters may lead to first dates. Also, for your enjoyment, whenever I mention the title of a song I have it in bold italics and hyperlinked to the audio file on GrooveShark.com. I hope you like it.
___________________________________

I didn’t want to hang out but my homeboy was stressed-out and feeling down.

He was catching heat from the boss over some BS. The boss-man is a clown.

My homey told me that he recently met a young lady online and showed me the pic and she was a dime.

He mentioned that he was looking forward to the day when the two of them could spend some time.

As if she heard him, she texted him and said that she was in Chelsea hanging out with two of her girls.

This young lady was a gem so chances were that her friends were pearls.

My main goal was to be my boy’s wing man so he could get his romance poppin’.

I had no idea that my evening would be jaw-dropping.

When we walked in the club we saw that they were a gorgeous party of three.

Damn. I don’t know who had the biggest smile on their grill. My homey or me.

We went over and made introductions, sat down and ordered a round, appetizers and such.

I looked at the honey complexioned goddess to my left and like Rupee, I was Tempted to Touch.

We started chopping-up game about work, kids, and how we both have a very sensitive “bullshitometer” – we don’t like nonsense.

We have both been there, done that and prefer to be drama-free and avoid all suspense.

You mentioned how you were a law enforcement officer and how you’ve been on the job for about 7 years.

I admired your lovely face and nearly wanted to Shout like the cats from Tears for Fears.

Long shapely legs, slim waist, protruding assets that accented your silhouette.

100% eye candy that fellas dream about – hoping they can get.

I was very honest with you about my “complicated” situation and such.

I just wanted to keep it real by putting it out in front so I’ll know right away if it would trouble you too much.

You appreciated that I was real with it and you shared some things about yourself.

I was very impressed with you. You were for certain top-shelf.

The DJ was jammin’ but the dance floor was empty.

We decided to show people how it’s done – just you and me.

As you swayed and gyrated to the music I wished that I could pour you into a cup.

I knew that you would be a sweet nectar and I would greedily drink you up.

Girl, those knee-hi boots and that short black dress.

Inside of my mind I was drooling and was a sloppy hot mess.

Your perfume was intoxicating – it smelled so good I felt like a junkie on purple hazey.

The Fine Young Cannibals said it best, She Drives Me Crazy.

I held your body close to mine so you could feel the muscles of my manhood. I enjoyed the firmness of your flesh.

As a man I couldn’t help but think carnal thoughts of how it would be with you if we mesh.

We had a good time laughing and dancing – all eyes were on us.

It was time to go to our respective homes so we could get to work on time to avoid having our bosses having to fuss.

We exchanged numbers agreed to out soon.

When we walked outside, you were even more beautiful in the pale light Under the Cherry Moon.

Your friend and mine, me and you all jumped in the car and you all dropped us off at the train station.

You reminded me that soon you’d be going on a Caribbean vacation.

I suggested we go out this Saturday and you were down for that.

I gave you a soft kiss on your cheek and said I enjoyed the fun and the chat.

On the way home I told my boy that I had fun and that you were “Tony the Tiger GREAT!”

I am so looking forward to our first date.

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Dear Mother of Mine

Posted by tpegonline on January 29, 2012

“Dear Mother of Mine”
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2012
All rights reserved.

This poem is a series of 10 haiku poems that are strung together in a series to tell a story. I call this style that I created a haiku chain poem. According to Dictionary.com, a haiku is a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons; or a poem written in this form.

______________________________________

My lovely mother.
I love you so very much.
You gave birth to me.

You wiped my crying
eyes and rocked me to sleep when
I didn’t feel well.

You taught me to know
the difference between right
and wrong, good and bad.

Sometimes though you had
to pop me in the mouth when
I was being fresh.

Never excessive.
Your punishments were always
fair and truly just.

You taught me to read.
You taught me to spell and write.
I excelled in school.

I was a happy
child. I don’t recall a day
when I was hungry.

My clothes were fresh and
clean. Wearing the latest and
coolest of designs.

Most importantly,
I always felt your love and
received your wisdom.

My birthday is not
about me. It’s about you.
Dear mother of mine.

Posted in black art, black romance, poetry, spoken word, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

Feast for the Senses

Posted by tpegonline on January 29, 2012

“Feast for the Senses”
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2012
All rights reserved.

This poem is a series of 12 haiku poems that are strung together in a series to tell a story. I call this style that I created a haiku chain poem. According to Dictionary.com, a haiku is a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons; or a poem written in this form.

_____________________________________________

There are five senses.
Sight, touch, smell, taste and hearing,
but I’ll add two more.

Foresight and insight.
These two intangibles give
you an edge – hands down.

You understand me.
Inside and outside. No one
else knows me like that.

You are a great judge
of character. You have my
back. You guard my flanks.

A master chessman.
That is what you are as you
always think ahead.

All of this on top
of all of your physical
gifts. You are so fine.

Your beautiful skin.
Kissed by the sun and smooth as
silk. Shiny and taut.

Your delightful scent.
Like ripe, sweet blooming flowers.
A treat for my nose.

Your melodic voice.
Baby, when you say my name
It’s a soothing song.

Your kisses are sweet.
You dipped your tongue in honey
then you licked my lips.

Your body is soft,
firm and gives off a heat of
comfort. I love you.

My sweet queen above
all others. My pride and joy.
Feast for the senses.

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Smooth Operator

Posted by tpegonline on January 27, 2012

I had a virtual straw poll and ladies picked Taye Diggs (pictured to the left) as a man they perceive to be a smooth operator. Brother Taye, hats off to you…

This poem is a series of 16 haiku poems that are strung together in a series to tell a story. According to Dictionary.com, a haiku is a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons; or a poem written in this form.

“Smooth Operator”
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2012
All rights reserved.

_______________________________________________

I’m gigolo cool.
I love myself the ladies.
More than you can know.

Treat ladies with love
Treasure them and show kindness.
They are precious gems.

“Too many lovers.
Ain’t enough men in the world
today.” Shack sang that.

Women are a gift.
Don’t treat them like common trash.
A woman birthed you.

They lay golden eggs.
Treat your goose with sheer respect.
Don’t lop her head off!

Have her sip fine wine.
Feed her the finest cuisine.
Take exotic trips.

Gold, diamonds and pearls.
Silver, platinum and jade.
Silk and fine cotton.

Pumps and high heel shoes.
Satiny hose on her legs.
Nice ankle bracelet!

Candy for the eyes.
A warm blanket for the heart.
A soul’s nourishment.

You told me thank you!
You’re very welcome, sweetheart.
I so adore you!

Men, you’re the captain
of your ship, so navigate
carefully. Be smart.

Give women what they
want – not necessarily
gifts. Attention. Love.

No bumpy roads. None.
No turbulence. No choppy
waves. Smooth, smooth sailing.

Clear blue skies ahead.
Calm, clear, crystal blue waters.
Wide, smooth, scenic roads.

It is not about
trying to be slick. Just be
honest, fair and real.

Treat her right, good man.
Be her protector and friend.
Smooth operator.

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Law of Attraction

Posted by tpegonline on January 25, 2012

The piece to the left is called Right Now, by Merrill Robinson.

It seemed appropriate for this poem.

“The Law of Attraction”
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2012
All rights reserved.

This poem is a series of 18 haiku poems that are strung together in a series to tell a story. According to Dictionary.com, a haiku is a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons; or a poem written in this form.

_________________________________________________________

That beautiful smile
and your alluring aura
make me go crazy.

Our heated debates.
Yeah, we share jokes together.
You’re great company.

Your taste in fine arts.
The exotic dishes you
prepare. Just scrumptious!

When I play my sax
you sway to the melodic
tunes. We’re quite an act.

I recite my poems
to you. You answer back in
call and response style.

We have so much in
common. Two peas in a pod.
You belong to me.

My heart belongs to
you. You’re a kind caretaker.
I love and trust you.

The sweet scent of your
perfume is a delicious
treat that I enjoy.

Your soft, velvety
skin shimmers with the after-
glow of love-making.

The moans and the sobs.
You seem to be enjoying
yourself to the max.

Vanilla ice cream
and that chocolate syrup
was a tasty treat.

Singing Marvin and
Tammy. “Ain’t nothing like the
real thing, baby.” True.

There is no title
for our song because what we
have is quite unique.

Loving you between
the sheets like Ronald Isley.
Footsteps in the dark.

Your steamy kisses.
Your slow, rhythmic gyrations.
Your firm embrace. Yes!

Universal laws.
What goes up always comes down.
Law of gravity.

Opposites attract,
but common ground is better
because it endures.

Everything is right.
Smooth like butter. No problems.
Law of attraction.

Posted in black art, black romance, spoken word, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

I’m NOT That Dude

Posted by tpegonline on December 30, 2011


I’m NOT That Dude
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2011
All rights reserved.

Please be advised that this poem has mature content.

NOTE: In this poem, movie titles and song titles are hyperlinked to IDMB.com and GrooveShark.com
so that you can read up on the film or listen to the tune. I hope this add to the flavor of this piece.

CLICK HERE to listen to a recitation of this poem.

Enjoy!

____________________________________________________________________

You bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan.

Then you help the kids with their homework and tidy up the house like no other woman can.

You have to deal with a fast-pace and office politics at work every day.

But when you get home you don’t complain – not one word of grief or anger do you convey.

With all that you do, some TLC from your man would be nice.

All he wants to do is play his video games and talk about how he just beat Batman Arkham City twice.

He’s not a bad person, but his game ain’t tight at all.

He dares to brag about how he has you on lock and never heard the old saying that pride comes before the fall.

In the bedroom, he thinks he can Regulate like Warren G and that he is a Champion Lover like Shabba Ranks.

But you said that he is a Castaway, he is not Big enough and he needs to be patient and learn to listen so he can crack your Da Vinci Code like Tom Hanks.

When we’re together, I lend my ear to listen to your hopes, dreams, fears and fantasies.

I’m your private waiter because I’m here to serve you and I aim to please.

I say things to you that make you laugh and sometimes you tell me things that make you cry.

Sometimes you look at me and say, “Papi, eres loco! Ay! Ay! Ay!” [Daddy, you are crazy. Oh my, my, my!”]

The other day when dinner was your treat and you paid for the bill and we were about to go, you whispered in my ear, “Quiero tu lengua y tu pinga en mi toto.” [“I want your tongue and your d*ck in my p*ssy.”]

We ran off to our secret getaway downtown to go do the nasty.

As soon as we got in the door you said, “Take off your clothes.” I love it when you’re so sassy!

You follow me into the shower and I rub your body with that peppermint scented soap that you like.

You scrub my back, pinch me on my rump and turn me around as you drop to your knees and sound-check the mic.

You go on for a few minutes but I pull your long, black, light brown streaked hair and I told you, “Don’t worry about drying off. Just go to the room,” is what I said.

I proceeded to kiss, lick, and suck that thing so greedily you nearly peed the bed.

The sweat glistened off your beige, butter pecan skin as your moan of ecstacy got louder and you panted faster and faster.

Like the Shogun of Harlem asked Bruce Leroy in The Last Dragon , I asked you, “Who’s the master?”

While I was giving it to you from behind I reached under and played with your breasts with one hand, and tugged gently on your hair with the other.

You know I was tearing it up because like Shaft, I’m one bad mother –

What? Huh? Shut my mouth? Well, okay, but you turn me on and get my blood flowing.

Eventually we were both satisfied, and got cleaned up so we could get going.

We left our passion party then caught a cab to go back uptown, and you said, “Muchas gracias, querido. He pasado un rato muy agradable.” [“Thank you, sweetheart. I had a great time.”]

I responded, “Yeah, me too. You took me to the Candy Shop – like that song by Olivia and that brother they call 50.

You say that I’m too cool about our “arrangement,” and that I seem to be comfortable with how things have been going.

I figure that we have a nice program running so we should keep the good times rolling.

You mentioned how you want to spend more time together, travel abroad and become an official item one day.

That kind of forced my hand so now there are some things I have to say.

Girl, you know that you’re my L3 — my lovely latin lady, and I’m your friend, confidant, and your lover because your man doesn’t treat you right.

I’m always a phone call or text message away – morning, noon, or night.

There is something that you must understand, Prince sang a song about this – I Could Never Take the Place of Your Man.

When you need a plumber to unclog your pipes, think of me as Bookman, Scheider, or Overton – I’m a good maintenance man.

But catching feelings and being together as a couple, that was not and will never be the plan.

We can hang out laugh and joke and have dinner and such.

It isn’t all about sex because looking at the big picture, the physical doesn’t matter all that much.

It is more about having fun and being free to be yourself.

That is why I leave most ladies on the shelf.

You make me smile and I respect you a lot.

However, all this talk about being together and having another tot.

You have your kids and I have mine and we’re both climbing the corporate ladder as fast as we can and have professional goals we want to achieve.

If our arrangement has to change I will certainly have to leave.

We can just be friends, if that works better for you – I’m not trying to be rude.

But you seem to want to make me a boyfriend or a husband, and I’m NOT that dude!

CLICK HERE to listen to a recitation of this poem.

Posted in black art, black romance, spoken word | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments »

Fruit Lovers Delight

Posted by tpegonline on February 18, 2011

Pictured above is an art piece called Midnight Snack II, by Henry Battle.

“Fruit Lovers Delight”
By Tyrone Turner
Copyright 2011. All rights reserved.

Not every day is a bowl of cherries.

However, with sugar plum thoughts of you dancing in my head I can never be sour grapes.

Oh my goodness, gorgeous. “Orange” you great! You’re a peach!

Your kisses are like sweet pineapple slices. Time spent away from you is as bitter as a lemon.

Vanilla ice cream, strawberries, bananas, hot fudge and whipped cream.

What a tasty treat you are!

Your succulent melons are firm to the touch. That mango is so juicy and I love it so much.

That passion fruit is fuzzy like a kiwi and glistens like a shiny apple.

Time of day doesn’t matter. Morning, noon, or night.

Anytime is the right time to enjoy a fruit lovers delight.

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