Poem 48: Like J Cole

Can we talk about Isis and Osiris
Capitalism? What life is
Love philosophically
How it’s the cure for everything

Or we can talk about Yeshua
You’re a
Beautiful soul like J Cole
Yes you are

Let the truth be told of old pharaohs
Do you believe life after death?
Or the energy dissolves
Til there’s nothing left

I’ll push your hips when it’s too deep

So you can see me
Feel what you’re saying
Taste the meaning
Traced lips while your speaking

About being hated
For being the one who made it
Why the federal reserve is outdated
Why it’s illegal to get faded

How we made it- thank Yeshua
For a
Beautiful soul like J Cole
Yes you are

Photo credit: J Cole at Soul Kitchen in Mobile, AL 2014 Forrest Hills Drive Tour. Instagram by @djudge04

One of the Dopest Raps You’ve Never Heard

If you smiled all the way through this song, you might be a hip hop head- that is a connoisseur of hip hop music. I would like to pretend I was the first one to discover this if it didn’t already have as many hits, but chances are, you’ve never heard this little number. At least I’ve discovered it for you. This is the quintessential rap and hip hop head’s anthem by a new pair of artists local to me *coughs* that I just heard last night.

Enjoy

Read the latest Facebook only article on (feed on the right) about my new favorite things for more like this. Don’t you love it? C’mon they just said what you’ve been thinking. If song were a little but longer…

Poem 41: I Am Not Afraid

From the series “What would I say…”

Warm skin grasped

Quiet laughs

We may never comprehend

Sacred ground shared in our laps

A temple of prayers and tears

Life and love over their years

Dark places in all states

The pleasure, joy, and the pain

Decades among two tiny frames

Yet a moment is all that remains

Clasped in these hands of ours

Enshrined by life’s marks and scars

Continue reading

Poem 40: At the End of a Heartbeat

A Freestyle Poem By Meka

I learned that one could die
If the beat’s broken inside
Unless there’s enough love
Left to keep her alive

The heart’s rhythm of life seems
Chosen but random and
It’s beat is a juke token
For keeping her eyes open Continue reading

Poem 38: The Perfect Woman

By Meka Love
“Excuse me,” he said
Breezing past the perfect woman
Her attentive smile upon him
He’d only see if…
Eyes weren’t fixed on a vixen
Smacking her lips
At a text message
Before she ignored him
Called him boring and
Friends forewarned of her
Mileage
Calling them childish
He accepted the challenge

Continue reading

Poem 36: Semi-Love Story

By Meka

Spent my whole life
Waiting for one like you
And the rest to forget
How we are almost perfect

How everything I’ve ever wanted
Came packaged in the one gift
Too expensive to open
I couldn’t accept it

But it owns me
And it holds me like
I should see in his eyes
How much he adores mine
And he can’t surmise why I
Let him when it’s all I desire

Broken, but God only knows
Maybe I’m taking for granted
Nothing can take what’s meant
Given precedent, I’m unconvinced

And too old to be selfish
But I’m working on it

Enjoy! Like, share, and don’t forget to follow.

Love,
Meka Love

Poem 33: While I Still Believe You’re Everything

By Meka

Hold me in your breath

Mouth to mine and whisper my name

Like the only name left

Collapsed in embrace to dance in your fragrance

Off-beat or awkwardly sexy, bare tippy-toes atop your feet

Following your lead

And the trail of kisses buried beneath my cheeks

Like no one can see.

While I still believe you’re everything

And these petals still think

They’re flowers

Love me like first and last memories

And tomorrow’s no promise of ours

Each moment is a gift, isn’t it? Thank you for enjoying my first love poem of 2014. Like, share, and don’t forget to follow on Twitter! ❤

Love,

Meka Love

Feminist Papers 2: Illumi-Not Them

Situation Report: Illumi-Not Them

Their handy-work goes by society, the elite—decision-makers; the real players—the payers, the beyond pay—the eternity seekers. They have been described as the crabs in a barrel pulling them back as if that were the same thing as helping them escape if they wanted such. Keeping them that way ensures they pose no threat to their own success and the legacy for their like. They square the root of evil for power so it neither falls on their watch nor advances without their thumbprint. They are often called haters, card-holders, king-makers and deck-stackers– to sway beliefs and preferences—unsatisfied, they seek to better calculate and predict them- to stay aligned with their comforts, traditions, and desires. They were there first; they were born first; they thought of it first; they were slighted first; their pain and story are more important—any justification works. Continue reading

Reading of Poem 27- Southern Metropolis: A Love Story

After challenging myself on facebook.com/lovemekanism to satisfactorily read one of my poems, I finally read Southern Metropolis: A Love Story in a YouTube video. Much better than the first time I tried a similar challenge.

Southern Metropolis is a love story metaphor for artists in metropolitan areas or small towns who believe they must leave everything behind and move away to achieve their dreams for many reasons– perhaps the lack of local opportunities, possibly limited support in a divided community, or simply that arts may not be seen as an acceptable way to make a living there. It is part tragedy, part endearing, part “unsaid thing“, and all love and art. That’s still appealing story to me. I’m happy to have been able to write and share it- now read it to you.

Enjoy!

Continue reading