Bored in lecture

This ratchet blabber is related to the keenest slice of misunderstanding...
Wiping away every since that makes it since the time is so raping...

Not my guts, but my brains, ha brains, I don't give it. Wishing upon a focus, my star fell 59 seconds ahead of what's approaching my ears no mind trying to define and specify the not so understood function of this dude's lecture.

Toy Story

I can't believe they found me on aisle 5 of the toy section. As if there were parts and/or pieces to assemble...Like like, two double A batteries are vital to my operation. Like like, there's a reset button located inside my chest that you press whenever there's a malfunction. Like like, you can buy "little outfits" to dress me and then undress me based off of your emotional verdict. Like like, I sing lullabies at the push of a soft spot to stroke that little ego you pressed on your cheek two weeks ago when you grew a few feet yo. Like like, I'm tattooed with a 10-digit SKU and the only breathe I experience is from you. Like like, you can position me for your sake, wonder away and come back for a double take. Make no mistake I'm no plastic fake, neither am I some game you purchase to play. My words, they come simple and straight so your mind won't have room to parlay. Like Like, the seriousness shown in my face when this shell speaks and my mouth doesn't move. Like like, the demand that grabs attention when randoms walk by just to listen. Like like, the rules I set about the one rule - NO REGRETS. Like like, the way I take the richest soil from my soul to make sure your dreams are never malnourished. Like like, how I reach out to physically touch the unattainable concerning you, only because I learn best with my hands. I say, I'm NO game my "friend", so don't look for any parts or pieces. Respect me as a woman and it'll sign the leases. It's like like that!

finished Bipolar

Bipolar

Today I woke up to a melodic tone escaping my phone, ready to address the usual. Usually lacking the set to reset my mind, needing folded hands giving reverence, Lord I pray for consistency. Amen! They stepped on matted letters outside of my front door to welcome what's next as I smile to confuse what looks scrambled. This must have been an up because I pulled up to a mouth filled with rewrapped plans, lined with embrace, and glossed with a touch of red greet. I knew this wasn't new and my mind knew that this beating shell shape had reached the sell by due date... It was spoil. Nevertheless, the fact that failure. had relocated further away from success somehow convinced me to expect a good turnout. And what turned out to be a turnout led to another let down. No first, just down and the commentators said he carried the ball well. This was no Saturday night game or was it? I question this and my answers become scrambled once again, wiping away those greetings that were intended for waves. Hello to another day or days polar sway...sometimes short of the option to choose between North and South...Either way, I'm never prepared. I hate this bipolar piercing stare given when I walk into the courtroom of your conscious blare. And I can hear it...you think I'm crazy, don't you? Now before the jury examines this bipolar relationship do me a favor and step away from my naturally lined lips. BC this did all start with just a kiss.

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What’s your next line - Facebook

What’s your next line - Facebook



Dominique C writes: Racing against a shoeless thought

Echo E writes: I'm suddenly reminded of battles fought

Travis R writes: Lost half, learned most: all thanks to the Host?

Dominique C writes: Or not? He ponders beneath the web, wide-eyed to tell a direct recollect bag of imaginations; many afloat, neither heads or tails, shot down by truth or tortured with nails; posting a chance to evaluate the sanity it entails...just one thought, bare foot thought...iron rail wrought by the impersonators that dream his last thought, wondering what bought the sells he foretell in just a simple thought he thinks one kilometer away...

J Goody writes: distant is the soul of the journeyman, perhaps? what lies beneath the wrap, doesn’t make sense...but it doesn't have to...

Dominique C writes: Because you digress in the process of clicking through his success; supporting the systems that lock up the floating words that were once thoughts, through dumbbells, mustering imaginations and soon dreams. Are things really what they seem or did his thoughts sprint from his dreams?

A conversation like this

I don't think I've experience a conversation like this. A conversation where words are silenced by the lack of understanding seen through my eyes. It was almost as if I was blinded by the reality of existing imperfections. Perfecting inscribed "pre-reqs" I'd set before nodding to future regret. But my haste wore on me like paste and simmered among what may be that "maybe" explaining why the obvious appeared so shady. Now, I'm not saying I didn't "see" what she saw when y'all spoke but my heart skips a beat when our eyes meet and the ability to see you physically passes through me, causing my spirit to speak...Speak to your soul. Yes, talk to your soul. That's the very second things begin to unfold...

My eyes opened to a place only you could feel, your HEART. It was the beat behind the seat of sentiments my soul accelerated when you said hello to me. And I promise I'd never had a conversation like this. A conversation where your soul joins with my soul and speaks in sync with that skipped beat I shared with you earlier in this piece. A conversation that speaks from the greatest part of you...your soul. A conversation where secrets become bedtime stories to our worries and we never suffer insomnia. A conversation where the nerves in our feet redirect sleep and walk all over defeat just to keep this spiritual connectivity. A conversation that feeds into my poetry, poetically satisfying the stomachs of those who too have talk to souls.

Untitled

I so don't deserve this
When I didn't know, that was one issue
And when I found out it became a bigger one
The very thing that people can touch, feel, and see somehow gained control of me and even though I was sorry I fail to genuinely experience remorse BC I selfishly knew I would say I'm sorry and move on. Sadly enough I can even admit that as strong as I thought I was I wasn't confident that I would be able to turn away just yet. Especially if I'd be put in that exact situation tomorrow. My skin loved it, every bit of it.

Nevertheless I so didn't deserve this.

What hurts even more is that the training I'd received when faced with trying times were suddenly excreted from my skin and what I knew within was suppressed by the excitement.

Music Producer - BCF

Uniquely formulated to share communication with sound. Alphabetizing a plethora of vibrations magnified at the rebound of what my ears could filter. No talent could express competitively how your gift could shift the things and thoughts that were strong in stance while beating against the hesitation formed in my hand. Who communicates with sound, understanding the very language of music? Exchanging messages between what speaks within without words to move it...That's a connection that's inevitable and it flows down into your fingers. Illustrating the very picture your mind created just a day ago...not to know that yesterday was 3 days ahead of what you thought the day before. A gift.

Untitled

Sitting, searching for words to express exactly how i feel on top of this hill. I shouldn't have let you carry me here...your arms convinced me right after you smiled at my smaller me. How did you manage to alter every not into whats hot, warming those cold reservations my inexperience fostered. Your credentials we weren't accredited in another state, and my residence was fairly new to this blue old school. Beginning at number one, started the beginning

Chase

Her neurological phase reached the end of its maze and exited all reason. Extending left for emotion, while pregaming before the season. Her past had become a goodwill's property, with hopes to aid another lost human in lustful poverty. Ok, maybe it was love...hmph. The donations were merely a result of growth and healing, sealed with a kiss from this new lil feeling. And she had a feeling that this feeling felt the inevitable...reaching forever for it to always be there.
I'd never seen her dress this way, expressing exactly whats behind her gay, without giving honor to the man's delay ...pride. Shocked, to say the least, no leasing authenticity out of respect for tradition bc it wasn't crisp enough to invalidate the wrinkle -free reality that she was thee...thee face behind the chase

And when time dressed this man, those fine garments no longer fit the same.What was customary become necessary and what was necessary became habitual. Breaking every southern family's ritual just to show his significance. Uncomfortably "cutting to the chase", with only a slice of pursuant array (clothing)

Bipolar

Bipolar

Today I woke up to a melodic tone escaping my phone, ready to address the usual. Usually lacking the set to reset my mind needing folded hands and reverence, I pray for consistency. Amened to welcome what's next I smile to confuse what looks scrambled.

Love Bore

The day's drowsiness touched the motive lying next to possibility and halted everything but I was indifferent. There was no felt difference in the distance so the unwanted patience against time led to the comfortable hostage I introduced when I gave up. And I guess the very moment I closed the door, my cup spilled over into the hands I'd disposed of at the judges table. There was no need to compete, no qualified beings or delegates, just large. And I promise it didn't get further than that. Until boredom dilated my pupils and the light was a pain...feathering the soles of my feet, I laughed into something that was never intended for keeps. But I remembered the shades, and I needed them to see. Those overexposed "be"s played the feces out of me and planted an irreversible addition to an earlier rendition chartered by one thought. And every time I'm tortured by remembrance, I face what I never fought...

What’s Clear!!!!

What’s Clear!!!!

I could sit here and play my sax or gracefully plie; And without a delay, you’d realize I should stick to what’s spoken; Given without choice, accepting what was chosen. It’s simply a spill, filled with thoughts pouring into words that rationalize; So lend your ATTENTION and listen, I won’t paralyze.

See it’s this thing they call darkness, designed and redefined to cloud what should have remained clear. It has blinded our generation, got ‘em thinking and seeing things different from how they appear. I’m standing here and what you see is that I’m black, vividly expressed in a darker shade; governmentally displayed as African American. I’m a woman, but not just any ol’ woman, I’m a black woman; Colored and resolute with an ancestral curvaceous figure, THICKER than Joe’s Truest Religion and did I mention, I’m known to be strong? When I talk in this tone, using this dialect to be politically correct, I become what is not clear…An Educated Black Woman.

Let me pause and unfog what should have been clarity…Treated like a charity, where usage and display seem much of a parody. I keep hearing my people refer to themselves as coins…You know, pennies, nickels, and dimes? As if the woman is some expenditure, metaphorically speaking in their rhymes… What’s clear? I’m a dime, NO a roll of dimes…No a PARADIGM to that little girl that lives behind the picture painted by what’s fed to her ears, her mind. Speaking into existence her limitations and so she defines…herself. Whether she be lead or mislead, understood or misread, it all dates back to what she was fed, back then or now, her future’s been said. Said and placed into the hands that carried us over here in the first place. Standing astir of what looks like her own, far from what should’ve been cleared…by people like you and me whose glasses were whipped by ancestry. So again, I ask what’s clear?

What’s clear is that Sojourner Truth, Harriet Tubman, and Zora Neale Hurston did it! What’s clear is that clear is clear. Without blemish, free from darkness. Every spec I did not expect, God windexed; And when I couldn’t see past adversity, He drove for me. What’s clear, is standing right here and those things that appear to be unclear, not clearly understood, I’ve achieved because I believed…NOW, IS THAT CLEAR?

Subsequently

Subsequently

Slow jogging on the treadmill has my heart pounding
Sweating processed Aquafina
Complimented with nothing better than a slight dislocation of my Vickies

SUB-SEQUENT-LY

A toned body, a bigger confidence and great magnitudes of personal satisfaction
Only initiated by self because self speaks works, maybe lies or truths, meaningful or meaningless
Ultimately resembling the artistry of your true “SELF” indeed
_______________________________

Blabbing at the mouth, co-signing to conversations that were already dimensionalized by Jane Doe and Billy Ray.
In other words, NOYB
But why ramble in a gamble when you have no money and the casino ain’t ever seen yo…yo...

SUB-SEQUENT-LY

Limited friendships, refrained information, and indecent stares.
Did I mention, hurt feelings and missed knowledge.
Good, watch leads to an unpredictable demeanor.
_______________________________

Game-spitting, dread infested, low waves fade approaching me, you, and your cousin
Grinding and stroking trees, branches, and leaves if possible
Thinking his un-intellect collec-tively protects
That heavily used cardboard and playmates.
Or Easy-goers, conveniently named dimes divided by one night equals nothing but a waste of time
Get your game up!



SUB-SEQUENT-LY

A “NEXT”, MTV named it appropriately
A ballot checked “NO” to your immaturity and clearly observed insecurities
A sudden portrait displaying your search for attention and lack of love, for yourself that is…
REAL women will stop the clock on your “I don’t know how to love” asssssking for another chance that you really never had
_______________________________

Hard-working, heavily stocked in the Lord, wise young lady
Broken-hearted, all-giving, a great display of altruism
Sadden by the sleep of the sun because she goes home to nothing but a 1300 square feet apartment
Enriched with black granite countertops to watch another episode of the “HILLS”
Lives life according to the best “to-do” manual, Basic Instructions Before Leaving The Earth but falls short in some instances
Strong tho…

SUB-SEQUENT-LY

With God and his word first, all your needs and desires
A mate, that unconsciously makes those old loves seem like time-invested, not wasted, for a bigger payout…a blessing!
Man and Woman in Matrimony are seen as one by the Almighty. So enjoy boo!
_______________________________

Through the loud mouths, selfish boyfriends, and intense workouts
Purposes are always endowed beforehand, revealed or not
Your response discovers your outcome and sometimes your strength
Anyone or anything that cosigns to your demise or endangers your salvation, LET GO!!
Nowadays, good looks can be bought so don’t cash in on that alone.
Pray!

Because Sub-sequently…

~Dominique C. Cooper

"Uncannable"

"Uncannable"

Volunteer enriched with dark skin mints
Housed in a platinum container, so rich and preeminent
Got female pups running up for pedigree so abruptly
The peculiarity can’t neutralize the particulars about me

Success surrounds my ankles, while haters stench like soles
And confidence befriends fear with real swift intros…
Introductions of my Father, you know…the rich one
Invincible and pure…laced with an incessant stun

He saves lives and can even retrieve a heart
Especially one like mine…broke, broken…seemingly apart
Instantaneous reassurance of my apparent “rare”ness attracts why bait
My intellect and class questions why waste an earthquake

I got plans, plans, plans, plans…
And yea you don’t involve them if still wearing cans
Wrapped in advance, sealed tight with only one real move
Need a tool to use and then a spoon to approve
Distaste, no taste, because you were pre-wrapped!

Yep, right now the gear is missing a shoe
And patience searches for the laces
But it’s only some Forces…you can get them by the cases!

~~~~~ Dominique C. Cooper

Trapped

Trapped in something unforgivable, obviously untrue
But held so tightly by one for nearly two…
Years of clear & black assumed infidelity or love (what some call)
From a past due “cell” BKA the infamous separator but why stall?
Time supports essence and beautifies change
…because insurance is afar and I’m the closest in range?
Impossibility sits high fighting existence; at least that’s how I mask myself, knowing I can’t let go…
Go of the obvious, maybe unintended while devilish actions intervene...
On my place in your life, small but habitual, clearly unclean
Help? Yes, you need it more so than freedom because outsiders secretly creep inside
…knowingly but closed eyed on why lights bleed darkness right next your heart;
Time supports essence and beautifies change
…while my patience boxes with the mechanism of life
Success is imprisoned and age is useless, it’s 10 years behind…no lie
Who, What, When, and Why…why…why…
My face has served as a bumper too long and time isn’t enough for being…
Stuck here, hypnotized by the second hand and controlled by the first…
Remember that “Cold is Cool for Me”…love, hunger, thirst

~Dominique C.Cooper

Thoughts a flow…

Laced in sugar sweets
Nappy hearts, words bitter keep
A discrete make to move, so fast, slow weeps

Dressed in a white gown, veiled in brown syrup
Life is a grimy slip, covered by blessings on heard
Herd-less, I should say, because grasping is like jello pudd
As only the isolated one, crowd-less seeker accomplish no THOUGHTS could…

Imagine how skies float under my shoes when I touch beyond the sky
Only to realize, to manifest the works of the GUY
Not to deviate, but water just a flow, flow…flows
As the words harmonize together out dat do

Purpose you ask, what do you say…can’t reach ya?
Expressions of an “on-high” English teacher
A bit more complex, too instantaneous to stick hard
Concentration, sense, and even logic locks – barred!

Questions to the oldest, myself – me
To challenge my love with insecurity
Only the thoughts tho…”no efforts necessary”
Can’t let this love lose to a game’s victory


~ Dominique C. Cooper

Box of Lies

This one is dedicated to all the liars...the ppl who lie for no reason at all! If you feel uneasy, then it's probably because you're being convicted! This is not about anyone that I tagged so don't be alarmed! Love you! Check out more at www.dominiquecooper.com

Box of Lies

When I see you
I see words traveling without a clear direction
When I see you
I see phrases, without a pure logic
When I see you
Nothing is physically there
No movement or sounds, tales abound
When I see you
I look for a diaphragm that doesn’t exist
Or even a heart that contracts to win a race
When I see you
I see nothing, zero, it’s not there
When I see you
I see words hurling around my aura
Senseless thoughts that tell a wonder
When I see you
The phrases become stories, once told
Without hesitation, confidence of bold
When I see you
I see nothing, no skin to lace the body
I thought you were there
When I see you
There are letters now, something more than habitual
Filtering out the truths and reusing the ones that worked
When I see you
A see a secret hardened by fear, where your emotions are packed
Packed in a box of lies
When I see you, I don’t see you


Dominique Cooper

Mere Insanity

“Mere insanity” is what she blacked on the wall of the stall that stared back for a drop of Clorox; The addiction was far too poignant to remediate what had twisted the norms of popular belief; Her sweat was piercing the hole just to sit there and hide, subsiding beside her conscious; Neither alert or alarming to the taps against the tile; Her feet were planted like Velcro;

In All Seriousness

I packed my emotions in a trunk and the heath grew; invisible immortality troubled my pores, leaking residue; this approach, girl behind black w/o a smile, my eyes objected; for the strain was a thrusting wave – damaging visage; salty drops, God permissed to no invitation to sorrow; In too deep, it’s windex’d efforts of a plucky demeanor; No eyes, I guessed…The buildable pressure exploding around my heart was soon placed in push cart and dictated by a breathing gavel and escorted by situation – me.

Judgmental

Judgmental

Smile, smirk, a kiss, he’s hurt
Passing through a parade of differences unnoticed
Noticing the flaws that befall upon everyone outside of his comfort
His opinions, their references to the creation he’s not entitled to
Indulge, imply, or reply
Until the reflection seeps into the cracks of a complaint
Past restraint that paints without sanding, he taints
The lenses only he can see thru
Bi-focused on features that failed an inspection
Hair, teeth, weight and skin complexion
He walks thru an ad, picking and choosing
Choosing and snoozing the set, she’s set to win his losses he’s losing
All based on a technicality, conventionally bruising
The imperfections that perfect identity, falsely diffusing
Your acceptance of who she really is, who they really are…

Writer's Block

Scramble some scraps to understand the crap
That seeps through your oxygen flap
Mustering the silence that travels a lap
Embraced, a welcome mat with a cup of tea to accompany
The company that supports your mishaps...

Brain Surgery

On January 25th of this year, a tumor located at the base of my brain was removed. During the point of unconsciousness, I did not anticipate I would recall or remember anything. Surprisingly, I did. When I woke up, I could clearly remember singing this song by India Arie entitled River Rise. At some point in my life, everything expressed in that song was or became a reality. Hence, my poem River Rise.
Approximately, two years prior to my awareness of this condition, I made a commitment to the Lord to defeat my inconsistency as a Christian and solely devote my life to him. My checklist began with premarital sex. I told God I would not participate in this sin anymore because this body does not belong to me. With my commitment came uncertainty which led to me not completely letting go. I continued to take oral contraceptives with an attitude of “just in case I happen to fall in love with someone new”. My own intelligence failed to help me understand that this attitude was contradictory. The Lord spoke to me and said that if I truly wasn’t going to engage in premarital sex there was no need for contraceptives of any sort. Through reading the book of life, I obtained wisdom that gave me strength to let it ALL go. Soon after that, complications occurred and my hormonal system refused to return back to normality. I counted it far from a worry and assumed my body would eventually fix itself. That never happened. Twenty pounds, excruciating headaches, and 6 months later, I was informed that a tumor was the cause of this anomaly. My graduation was scheduled 6 days later and never had I imagined a gift of this magnitude. Life had to go on. The tumor was medically cared for until December of 2009, when a periodic MRI discovered hemorrhagic attributes. Stepping outside of my doctor’s orders, I sought the opinion of a neurosurgeon that was recommended by the radiologist performing the scan. (Never realizing, God was placing people in my path). After meeting with this reputable neurosurgeon, I continued to pray to God for wisdom concerning this trial.
I trusted in Him and proceeded with this evolution in life expecting nothing but greatness. My expectations were fulfilled and my faith increased. I live for God, literally. I love him so much that I made Matthew 16:25 a reality. I lost my life for Christ to find it and that’s not even half of my story. Be blessed.

River Rise

The emancipation of what is profound, I found in me, even before I felt what it was to believe
It was guidance, globally positioning this system without a GPMess, turning left of stress, and taking the first right,
Spiritually magnified, this took flight
Freeing me from the childhood tea parties the media so hastily invite
On the tubes, now digitally tuned, without an optical prescription to see
Let alone hear, the VOICE that was there forming words that read like hands
Offering life kickstands…
Aviating marked (own) seconds that make up minutes and 24 hour days, flying blind
With a pressure that knows no pressure to my heart, please be my eyes
Chorus from River Rise (India Arie )
River rise, carry me back home
I cannot remember the way
My smiles knew the rose that grew among the weeds in the field
Because my worries were kept behind by the thorns
And soon, my age became sunburned and felt my choices had been worn
I’d been torn
And distressed, without a dress to cover your spiritual creation
I need You to be my inspiration
Chorus from River Rise (India Arie)
River rise, carry me back home
I cannot remember the way
River rise, carry me back home
I surrender today
I surrender….Today
The flesh, this body, my imbalances, what belongs to you
Lord, I surrender…Today
Will you?

Wake up

Eyes blink, a halt to think, I think not because my thoughts are free; HE whispers without a melody and feathers sense my opening; I'm awake..

Feelings Disguised

Feelings Disguised

Words unravel into the streets of all reasoning looking for a place to flow
But its complexity seems to build a brick wall where the shadows of the past lay below
Just the simple notion of clarity in all those misunderstandings surpasses the norms
And lays beside the soul
Where the closeness of the heart reaches that point and unfolds
…Unfolds the searching words,
Of wondering thoughts—Emotions!!
And just that simple complex notion…
Relatively aware of thy feelings but was shorted-sighted to the fact
That love comes in anomalous ways, through walls and cracks
Acceptance is the key to “just that simple notion” and dwells in that frame of mind
Of only those who search not of what they find…

Dominique Charde’ Cooper

Addicted to Attention

Addicted to Attention

A racing heart, fueled by the foes that lie behind your high
Ranting and screaming with no alibi
In search for a leap only the dealers can supply

Prancing the malls with a thuggish accent
Only to mask your addiction
Not knowing that honesty shields against fabrication – not non-fiction

Smiles and smirks without credentials introduces game
That feeds into your habitude so smooth it reigns
Paced instantaneously, the left hand switches right
To reiterate occurrences prior that night

You’re addicted

Deep rooted in those 9th grade days…it killed your identity
Trapped your feelings behind your heart and imprisoned your amenity
Sunglassed this situation…shading it today
When you’ve handcuffed decisions that were relevant on Sunday

Freely endorsing billboards as if those secrets can’t write
A way to others knowing the plagiarism you site
Stealing shows without compensation and boldly spending your two cents
Side effects of this exact comment

You’re addicted

A surplus bring satisfaction and changes can never occur
Because it effects your self-esteem, personality…whole persona
It can’t be define exactly, it varies and so does dimension
When you’re addicted to this thing called... “attention”

~Dominique C. Cooper

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

A broken heart dispersed into a box that imaginably measures perpetuity
simply enclosing past relations that seemed to define me;
A Second chance was deemed too closely-related to ‘forgive’
because I was still in love with the breaker, anti-engineer;
Life changed and hope was ostensibly small
But I let the Mastermind take control of it all
What I found was surprisingly authentic and profoundly tender
Plausibly slick, bodily slender and presently my number one contender
And that’s for love.
I cannot say that the bait appeared to be a tasty one
But the bite reached deep into the skin
Led to something complex…something felt within.
Preparation presented fear so it was nothing embraced
And before I knew it, this love thing was encased…
So tightly, I was a ghost to my own heart
Unwillingly to forget set limits for the second part
But RB’s capacity shone through the closed vase, to impart…
A piece of him to heal my broken heart.

…No Efforts Necessary

…No Efforts Necessary

Sunny bright and lovely…even through clouds a fat
Dressed and clothed loosely with sunshades and polo hats
Winds come a blow, blo blow…what a disguise?
Trained so well, my hellos become goodbyes
A tree may lean here while a fly flies a nag
But the MAN can’t clean your face when that “special Nobody” has your rag
Freedom only leaps when self control says go…
But the driver can’t be lagging around in a burnt bronze pinto
Nights can be 24hr days filled with skittles and rainbows
Only if that released imprisonment suppresses mentally by what I like to call Chill Mode!
…no efforts necessary
Dumb looks printed facially works well with store bought grass
Because it professionally stunts growth while secretly revealing its true class
…no efforts necessary
Inconspicuous neglect takes control of the environment, one you MUST conserve
Because it kindly taps oh so softly that one important nerve
…no efforts necessary
Jog, skip, sprint, or chunk rocks happily…smiled laced
Because it wholly represents who runs your race
…no efforts necessary
Sunny bright and lovely…even through clouds a fat
Always and forever, Chill Mode can definitely assure that!


~Dominique C. Cooper

Thoughts a flow…

Thoughts a flow…



Laced in sugar sweets
Nappy hearts, words bitter keep
A discrete make to move, so fast, slow weeps

Dressed in a white gown, veiled in brown syrup
Life is a grimy slip, covered by blessings on heard
Herd-less, I should say, because grasping is like jello pudd
As only the isolated one, crowd-less seeker accomplish no THOUGHTS could…

Imagine how skies float under my shoes when I touch beyond the sky
Only to realize, to manifest the works of the GUY
Not to deviate, but water just a flow, flow…flows
As the words harmonize together out dat do

Purpose you ask, what do you say…can’t reach ya?
Expressions of an “on-high” English teacher
A bit more complex, too instantaneous to stick hard
Concentration, sense, and even logic locks – barred!

Questions to the oldest, myself – me
To challenge my love with insecurity
Only the thoughts tho…”no efforts necessary”
Can’t let this love lose to a game’s victory


~ Dominique C. Cooper

Untitled

Trapped in something unforgivable, obviously untrue
But held so tightly by one for nearly two…
Years of clear & black assumed infidelity or love (what some call)
From a past due “cell” BKA the infamous separator but why stall?
Time supports essence and beautifies change
…because insurance is afar and I’m the closest in range?
Impossibility sits high fighting existence; at least that’s how I mask myself, knowing I can’t let go…
Go of the obvious, maybe unintended while devilish actions intervene...
On my place in your life, small but habitual, clearly unclean
Help? Yes, you need it more so than freedom because outsiders secretly creep inside
…knowingly but closed eyed on why lights bleed darkness right next your heart;
Time supports essence and beautifies change
…while my patience boxes with the mechanism of life
Success is imprisoned and age is useless, it’s 10 years behind…no lie
Who, What, When, and Why…why…why…
My face has served as a bumper too long and time isn’t enough for being…
Stuck here, hypnotized by the second hand and controlled by the first…
Remember that “Cold is Cool for Me”…love, hunger, thirst

~Dominique C.Cooper

Uncannable

"Uncannable"

Volunteer enriched with dark skin mints
Housed in a platinum container, so rich and preeminent
Got female pups running up for pedigree so abruptly
The peculiarity can’t neutralize the particulars about me

Success surrounds my ankles, while haters stench like soles
And confidence befriends fear with real swift intros…
Introductions of my Father, you know…the rich one
Invincible and pure…laced with an incessant stun

He saves lives and can even retrieve a heart
Especially one like mine…broke, broken…seemingly apart
Instantaneous reassurance of my apparent “rare”ness attracts why bait
My intellect and class questions why waste an earthquake

I got plans, plans, plans, plans…
And yea you don’t involve them if still wearing cans
Wrapped in advance, sealed tight with only one real move
Need a tool to use and then a spoon to approve
Distaste, no taste, because you were pre-wrapped!

Yep, right now the gear is missing a shoe
And patience searches for the laces
But it’s only some Forces…you can get them by the cases!

~~~~~ Dominique C. Cooper

I walked outside and found my way to this place filled with beauties and bows Gummying carefree thoughts a may, my destiny, God beholds;
Three puffs pony'd up, Mommy dressed in peace
Hearing the wind sing with me, "be all you can be"!

Severity jump ropes with me as I glance back and forth; noticing the disagreement between a necessity and the "air force"; Far less of a concrete stare, a laugh...it looks like a monster; "Boo-ing" away the aliens that destroy the trees while the skies yell "ooh-wees"...

Postal Worker

Call it routine
But I handle the world's cares
Separating the differences in uniform blue wears
Call it routine
But I see-saw the world
Domestic to International, sushi to cheese curls
Call it routine
But the letter knows no face
Befriends not a smile or due disgrace
Call it routine
But this four walled public affair
Can't be judge according to what's sitting there
Call it routine
But I handle the world's cares
Separating the differences in uniform blue wears

You give me butterflies...

A bubble just formed in my stomach bc I took a breathe...significant bc now I'm holding it. Never was I "a swimmer"...The trustworthiness was covered in foil and all I could see was my own reflection. The brain tissue conformed the holding place for rationale but my heart obtained hypnotic attributes, therefore creating the intentional confinement of this bubble. The invisibility of this shape held the truths about me concerning you. And every instance it's released, the butterflies beautifully land on my self-made matured security, hard pressed onto my heart.

Copyright DCIS.

Untitled

I'm like a line-file, anti-plural, crisp money green; superscript single with stretched C's in between. Ads retracted, I got my self-esteem. Choosing, left eye snoozing, trying to see what's right. Lost in the top of my eyelids, wondering why they haven't taken flight. My checklist, body, and ink...thermalizing patches of opinionated "ithinks". I painted myself red and called everday 0-2 fourteen...for faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. The phone rings, immediate change in the clay. Hardened, too viscous, stuck in its own way.

-Copyright by DCIS