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Hell Hath No Furry
I’m not angry or on any kinda “all men are pigs” trip but for some reason (and I’ve written it before) The angry woman vibe suits my poetry. For some odd reason The “man-eater” poetry just comes to me. Although the tone of the poem is obvious I made a distinct point not to use any masculine pronouns, terms or nicknames in this one. So as you read it I invite you to personally consider who in your life this poem could be geared towards. Go ahead Let your inner divah Rrroar!





Could’ve
I know now that you’re not the one, but man we could’ve had so much fun
I learned the hard way that you’re a lying, cheating piece of scum what a terrible misfortune, but man we could’ve had so much fun
I can’t trust you as far as I can spit, good for nothing piece of shit and that’s my queue so I’m gonna split Surely you didn’t expect me to put up with this, you’re not sneaky, silly you’re so ruthless and dumb, but man we could’ve had so much fun
A tsunami of lies wrapped in a hurricane of selfishness begging me to suffer in this hell with you. You can stop now I’m so over it boo. On my Richter scale your tornado of damage will be less than 0.1, tryna shatter my heart and cause a river of tears to flow, I don’t think so. Deuce homie cause I gotta run, but man we could’ve had so much fun
You fooled me once but it won’t happen again, we both know how this story ends, misery from here on after no thanks, you can keep that to yourself friend. Animosity nah I have none and no apologies either you went all out tryna make me a believer, you get an E for effort, but no respect will come I’m moving on cause my work here is done, but man we could’ve had so much fun

Will this Exam be Multiple Choice or Essay?

Hey peeps Happy New Year! As I break my resolution not to make any resolution I’ve been trying to think of some interesting topics to blog about. Yes even the best of us suffer from writer’s block now and again, but never fear my dear readers I’m back :)

I’ve mentioned before that writing is my art, crafting words and molding stories hoping to entertain the masses. Often art imitates life and although I am a pretty private person I draw ideas for my art from my “exhilarating” life. However when sharing your personal experiences in a public forum there’s a fine line between entertainment and TMI. Anyway I was tossing ideas around in my head and decided to go with the one thing that sells and never fails to grab attention SEX, more specifically talking during sex. We’ve all done it from the typical “ohh yeah” to the mind blowing “holy shit Oh my god”.

So I thought to myself… How much is too much and how little is not enough? I guess the answer would depend on your partner and their needs. Now I’ve watched enough flicks to know that most men enjoy a “vocal” lady. They like to be reassured that they are “hitting the spot”. Flicks just like any other televised entertainment tend to exaggerate and over compensate, so giving your best Janet Jackme impression when your man isn’t giving his best Wesley Pipes could cum off as fake. What if your partner likes a good sexy verbal exchange and you’re more of the silent type? For the record I’m not the “vocal” type, it has to happen organically for me. If he’s hitting the spot or the mood strikes me than I’ll coo and purr like a tigress all night long. However I don’t enjoy being asked a multitude of questions, while in the act. I mean honestly guys if you must ask questions (more than once) to get a response outta your girl just appreciate the quiet moment. Usually if a dude is putting in his best Wesley Pipes work my words would be mostly incoherent moans and slurs. I don’t wanna have to come up with a sexy response to a question like “How much do you love this dick?” Really what does one respond that, spread your eagles and say “this much”. It’s just no fun in my opinion to have to worry about my sexual performance and wonder if I provided the proper answers to his interrogation, but to each his own.

It seems talking during sex is as varied as the individuals doing it.
There’s the coaching/directing convo: “you like it like that” or “right there” this convo can be used during intercourse or oral (although I have mixed feelings about dudes coaching while receiving but that’s a whole different blog).

There’s the cocky badass convo: “Yeah do that shit” or “what’s my name”. This convo can be disastrous if used at the wrong time.

There’s the encouraging convo: “you’re the best” or the classic “Oh my god!” This convo usually marks the end of a session/the climax.

Then there’s the sweet talk convo: “You're so beautiful” or of course “I love you”. This convo is usually the dude’s idea of foreplay, or signals attachment for couples who have been together awhile.

I could go on and on... from name calling to screaming matches the list is infinite.

Eventhough I’m not an extremely vocal person I do know that communication is key to a good relationship. So whether you and your lover are the coaching, cocky, or sweet talking type by all means be heard, but don’t forget to listen.

Good Clean Fun

About a month ago I dragged my poor innocent older sister to a strip show. I love corrupting her and I had a blast laughing as she cringed and blushed tipping the half naked men while they gyrated their goods for our entertainment. I know two or three dancers personally and I’ve taken my share of Expose Fitness Dance classes to know that exotic dancing is more about sex appeal and portraying a fantasy than just getting naked. Most shows that I’ve been to (with the exception of one bachelorette party) the dancers did not get naked. Exotic dancing seems to involve a lot of “smoke and mirrors” the dancers have their props, costumes and let’s not forget their theme music all to set the mood off right. These sexy dancers work hard perfecting a routine and keeping their bodies tight and for that I reason I can appreciate a good “peep show’. Thanks to one dancer in particular I will never feel the same when I hear Nicky Minaj’s “See Through Me”, shout out to the milk in my coffee Valentine :). Anyway the show had both male and female dancers and the one performance that got the biggest response was a very flexible, talented young lady who basically took a bath on stage. Now she’s not the first and surely won’t be the last to perform the sexy bath time scene, however I lost interest and excused myself to the ladies’ room during her set. For the life of me I will never understand why folks find bathing so sexy. Of course a good entertainer can make any act seem sensual, and the number of fetishes out there is limitless, but bath time has rarely equaled sex in my book. Okay there’s something provocative about being wet and slippery, as well as a voyeuristic appeal to seeing someone in the bath, but (for me) once you throw soap in the mix I get bored. Taking a bath with another person seems intrusive and having someone bathe me makes me feel like a baby nothing sexy about that. For me personal hygiene is just that PERSONAL, and although soaps can smell and feel good they taste disgusting, limiting your physical contact to just touching and rubbing…BORING. Not that anything weird goes down in my bath tub but I don’t really want my man watching me bathe myself it’s like getting your hair done. You want him to enjoy the finished product but not necessarily see the process it took to get there. To each his own, but the bath time scene is my least favorite, however give me a good steamy passionate shower and it’s on.

I’m A Writer Not A Promoter

We all know I love to write and I have a very active imagination. I consider myself a rather creative person, but when it comes to negotiations and contracts I’m like a fish out of water, therefore I’m on a quest to find a literary agent. The writing game is much like the music game. An author can choose to self-publish, and self-promote and then keep every dollar for themselves or work to get signed with a major publishing house attaining the fame but not necessarily the fortune. Personally I prefer the fortune over the fame but it seems the two often go hand and hand, but I digress...

I’m a writer not a fighter, and since contracts and negotiations aren’t my strong point and I don’t have major connects in the publishing field I’m in search of an enthusiastic, well connected agent. The idea of sharing a percentage of my earnings with an agent didn’t sit well with me at first. However after further consideration I thought to myself 70% or something is better than 100% of nothing and the networking connections an agent could bring into my world would be priceless.

So I spent the majority of yesterday writing and perfecting query letters as well as scouring the internet researching literary agents. However I was a bit disappointed with what I found. As I searched by genre I found that, agents who rep urban or street lit authors were far and few between. There were agents who specialized in the “African American” genre, but I wanted someone who focused on Urban lit. Now don’t get me wrong; I can write about anything, but my first two books are geared toward an urban audience. So now that I can recite the format and structure of a query letter in my sleep I’m in hot pursuit of an agent. Someone who can handle the business aspect of my journey to literary success, every Divah needs a team right?

I must say that this experience has shed some light on why most street lit authors self-publish, and I give them the upmost respect. It definitely takes a lot of hard work and dedication to self-publish and produce a noteworthy finished product. It takes perseverance and major hustle to self-promote and network getting your name and book out there. Writing a book is like giving birth, the words and story go from your mind onto the page and finally your novel is born, and just like your own child you believe in your work more than anyone else in the whole entire world. So I appreciate the struggle and reward of self-publishing. Promotion not being my strong point, I need the guidance and tutelage of a professional, my aim is to create a good buzz, attract the attention of an agent and get signed. However my short term goal is to get over my shyness and indulge in some shameless self-promotion just until I find the agent that believes in my work as much as I do. In the mean time my knees are knocking as I’m wringing my hands hoping to find a literary agent sooner rather than later.

I Don't Think You're Applying Yourself Smokey

So I’ve been a single lady for over a year now and last night I started thinking about the different reasons people stay single. There’s the typical I’ve been hurt in the past reason, of course the I wanna play the field and explore my options reason, and the I just haven’t found the right person reason. I must admit I am afraid of getting into a relationship and my reason is sort of a hybrid of those three. I have been hurt in past relationships, but I have pretty good resilience. I pride myself on being the type of female that can distinguish the next man from the “last”. Heartbreak is never fun and it takes time to lick your wounds and get back into the game. I’m past that phase but I am cautious about repeating past mistakes, and I’m not ashamed to say that I am somewhat picky. I’m not the play the field type person, but I do like to keep my options open. I like feeling independent and unattached; the selfish side of me likes not having to be obligated to another. I have high expectations of my mate and have been called high maintenance more than once so single life allows me to relax and avoid disappointments. However those three reasons are small hurdles to overcome. Fear is usually the main reason we humans choose not to do something. Fear of getting hurt, fear of losing, fear of missing something better, fear of commitment and so on…

My biggest fear regarding getting into a relationship is laziness. When people are courting each other there’s effort put forth. You meet what I like to call “the representative”. That perfect gentleman, who opens doors, showers you with compliments and is always on their best behavior, then once you decide to commit and settle down all of that slows down and eventually stops. My mother once told me “how you get ‘em is how you keep ‘em” and when all the showering, flattery and effort stops, I’m over it. Once a guy knows that he’s “got you” he doesn’t feel the need to put in as much effort. Being the Divah that I am I love attention and a lady likes to know that she’s valued and appreciated, and if I feel less than treasured it just won’t work. I truly believe you get back what you put in and I don’t do things half heartily so I expect the same from my mate. I don’t know why being high maintenance has such a negative connotation, I’m proud to be high maintenance! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…You wouldn’t put a Chevy Cavalier engine into your Range Rover, so why should your relationship be any different.

Something to Whet Your Appetite

It’s no secret that my lifelong dream is to be a successful published author, therefore in my pursuit of that dream I am in the process of writing two books and one short story submission. My goal is to join the Triple Crown family and to have one of my short stories published by Noire. Every time I read an Urban Novel I think to myself “hey I can do this” and when it comes to erotic tales I know I can churn out a juicy tale or two. Although writing is my passion it is also a process, which can be a quite daunting task. I have stories and characters for days and I can write about anything and any genre (except Sci-fi) but editing and formatting is just not the most pleasurable experience for a creative left-brained person like me. However my work is a representation of me and writing is my form of artwork so it’s very personal, and I want to produce a quality product. I aim to submit nothing less than a perfect manuscript to the publishers out there. Publishers receive hundreds of submissions and I need to make sure my work stands out for its originality and creativity and not for formatting and editing errors. I am kind of a shy person but my writing can be very bold, and the idea of having my work reviewed and critiqued I must admit is a bit scary. The purpose of my blog is to overcome these fears, it is you my dear readers who get first dibs at my writing, so consider yourselves lucky and “Welcome to exclusiveness…”

So today I am sharing with you a small excerpt from one of my Submissions entitled

Paper Doll


Once in my room I shut the door and changed into my night gown. I went into the bathroom and washed the makeup from my face. I re-entered the room surprised to see Pedro sitting on the bed. He was drunk and a wretched combination of cognac and sweat seeped from his pores.

“Alex really likes your mother.” His speech was slurred making his Spanish accent more prominent. I didn’t respond, I was nervous as hell and I wanted him out of my room.
“…and I really like you Danni.” He winked at me and it made my skin itch “but you don’t like me” he let out a sigh “you like Jesus, or maybe you like this even more eh?” He stood up and placed 10 c-notes on my dresser.

I looked over at the cash as Pedro walked toward me. I was frozen, the thought of having sex with Pedro made my stomach turn, that combined with the few drinks I had earlier made me nauseous. I turned toward the bathroom, but Pedro grabbed me by the waist from behind. I was too afraid to put up a fight. I didn’t want to make a scene in Alex’s home and for some odd reason I didn’t want Jesus to know that I was about to get fucked by Pedro. He grabbed my hair and bent me over the bed. He pushed my night gown up and roughly palmed my tight round butt. He reeked of cigars and liquor. There was no foreplay or sweet words, no gentle touches or soft moments. I cringed as Pedro’s hard dick forced its way into my vagina. I wasn’t wet or turned on one bit, but Pedro continued to hump me and slur his words speaking in Spanish. I didn’t know what he was saying and I didn’t care I just wanted it to be over as soon as possible. He drooled and drops of his sweat leaked on my back as he stroked my hair. He withdrew right before he climaxed and blew his sticky load on my ass cheek.

“That’s a good girl.” He gazed at me and stumbled out of the room.

I ran to the bathroom and jumped into the shower, I wanted his smell off of me. I felt disgusted as I sat on the bed and stared at the $1000.00 he’d left on my dresser. I was saddened and ashamed as my thoughts once again drifted to the love of my life, Kelz. I fiddled with the Tiffany necklace Alex had given me and thought to myself maybe I can’t do this. Maybe I can’t be Alex’s “doll” after all, cheapening myself for the pleasure of Alex’s rich friends. Played with and tossed to the side like a “rag doll” maybe this wasn’t for me. Then I thought of mama, and Joe-Joe, Kareem and grandma, the cold streets of North Philly compared to the warm comfort of Alex’s 2000 thread count Egyptian sheets. I needed Kelz; his love was the only real thing in my world. Joe-Joe was fully seduced by Alex and I was already losing my grip. Mama was also under Alex’s spell, and I could feel myself slipping too. Filling all of my emotional space with material waste, Alex was paid and could give me whatever I wanted, but without Kelz I felt like something was missing. I curled up on the bed and drifted off to sleep.

Stop Tripping Cause I'm Not

I got the one chick she so immature...like to show out in public throw tantrums on the floor

-JayZ

Most men always claim they don’t want drama in their lives and women are always so dramatic, but it seems when we (women) keep things chill and low key men don’t know how to respond. When we place no demands and are unaffected by their inconsistencies men get a little insecure. It has been my experience that most men get a rise out of having a girl act “crazy” they brag to their friends about how much “Shorty is tripping”. The drama a woman brings when she behaves out of character well let’s face it fellas is a great ego stroke and y’all eat it up. So after having a conversation with a very close friend of mine this poem was born. It’s kinda like my poem Nigga Sick except it’s geared toward the fellas and obviously much shorter. Enjoy…


Stop Tripping cause I’m not Tripping
Why I gotta act a fool for you to play it cool
Why I gotta shout and scream act all mean for you to see the beauty in me
I’m chilling tryna keep things light but seems you wanna declare war every damn night
I’m being me accepting this situation for what it is to be but you can’t deal with the tranquility
I like to keep the peace but for some reason it’s drama you want to increase
I won’t go outside of my character and behave all over the top
Boy stop tripping, cause I’m not
You gave me all the rules and laid your game out loud and clear
Intensions were duly noted so when I’m cool with it why you gotta act all weird
Is it that your plans weren’t sincere, were you anticipating that I wouldn’t hear
Hoping I’d ignore the rules and bend a stripe or two just for you
Waiting for the other shoe to drop, surprised I haven’t smashed your windows with a rock
Boy stop tripping, cause I’m not
Making and breaking plans just for fun, thinking this time is gonna be the one
Sending mixed messages you’re so confused son
I don’t wanna bust your bubble or put you on the spot
So please stop tripping, cause I’m not