Spoken

Last night (late), it came to me. It took me 10 minutes, 15 minutes tops to write it and track it. I NEVER have any idea where I'm going with my music pieces or my poetry. I just go where my head leads me. I was working on both at the same time, when after the track was complete, which was a simple joint filled with about 6 types of instruments like one of them head-banging poetry-set joints – I laced the prose. My pen started writing faster than my brain could keep up. It was magic. I ended up with this spoken word piece:

My Seed

I look up at the night skies and see the moon glow… I look down at my belly, as the wound grows. The cipher of sacred honor of a seed, my seed; the creed of life – birth awaits and rises from the dirt and rib of no flesh, from whence God made such beauty manifested in the labor of moments of love.

But Shhhhh – Listen loudly as it grows and forms a future with no direction, but a conception of its place and time and moment to shine light – like the light that shines when it arrives. So bright to sleepy eyes like sunshine. My seed, indeed is my light beaming in my wound formulating destiny.

Shhhh it grows. I feel something – A being so human it places water in the wells of my eyes. Excitement in my wound as it rattles its presence making Mommy know – I'm here. I'm attached and I aint never letting go.

Month's progress as the full-grown mid-range gets out of tone, but still in sync with the essence of soul. The union of love and life and the connection so pure it's heavenly.

It is heavenly bonded – Shhhh it grows and knocks at the doors of freedom to come see Mommy.

No pain is as good as the push and poking, sit-ups and breathe versions as I release my seed who's hesitant to enter, yet eager to exit and touch cheeks and fingertips with Mommy from a beautiful bondage into direct interaction with life and love.

Come little one, Come

Ooooh, I hear crying lungs while tiny eyes are closed tight, but heart is pumping FAST and GOOD and HEALTHY and REAL and LIFE.

My life conjoined and formed what is before me. We did it. 'Baby', we did it.

10 little fingers and 10 little toes. My exhausted love is undying because he's worthy of any INCH of energy left.

My seed! – is now my Son!

Of course you know how it is with Spoken Word, it's how you recite it that makes it more meaningful. I'm not sure why it came to light, especially with the fact I don't have any children, but I assume it was meant to be, 'cause I'm most definitely feeling it when I recite it. I guess it's just a natural woman's intuition. Other than that, everything is everything. Getting sleepy now and I've got work at 7am. So a sistah's gotta go. Love ya like a stack of pancakes dripping with butter and syrup. Holla my folk. Holla!

Comments

[Bloggers Delight]

Thank you, Ms. Ink/Gumbo Gurl for visiting our space and taking the time to leave a comment. This spoken word piece is wonderful! We do hope that you will consider submitting a piece for our publication. Be well!

[Lady]

Bloggers Delight, thank you for the compliment. Thanks also for stopping by. Sorry I didn't make the deadline this time, but I definitely plan on submitting in the future, as I've genuinely enjoyed browsing through your site.

Do stop back by sometime.