Making new friends
(After having a "catch-up" dinner with her friend Stanford Blache in Chicago, Carrie decides to take a walk.)
Carrie's Narration
One day while walking down the streets of Chicago, I stumbled upon this quaint poetry cafe which was filled with a diverse array of people. Being the spontaneous person that I am, I decided to see what the crowd was so obviously enjoying. Once I found a place to sit, I felt like I belonged there. The atmosphere was really inviting and as I looked around people would smile and nod as if they knew me for some time. I've never been to a place like this with Samantha, Miranda or Charlotte and it was pretty nice to get away from the flash of our daily lifestyles. Don't get me wrong, fashion is my thing-send me a pair of stiletto's any day. However, there was something here that touched my soul despite a few fashion hazards in the crowd. These people here had something to say and clearly vibed off of one another.
During my introspective moment, I noticed this gorgeous man grace the stage. I've never had an interracial relationship before but he was someone worth checking out. He seemed to have a majestic quality about him which excited me beyond belief.
"Man, I wish Samantha was here to size him up with me. However, she may try to steal him for herself. Hmmm, this piece of eye-candy is all mine....for the moment anyway."
As my new found "friend" clutched the mic, I became motionless and intent on listening to his every word. Then, the bassist began to play a tune and "Mr. Eye-Candy's" poem came to life.
Mr. Eye-Candy Poet:
Say baby, can I be your slave?
I got to admit girl, you're the shit girl
And I'm diggin' you like a grave
Now do they call you daughter to the spinnin' post
Or maybe queen of ten thousand moons
Sista to the distant, yet rising star
Is your name Yemeya?
Ah, hell nah, it's got to be Oshun
Is that a smile me put on your face child?
Wide as a field of jasmine and glover
Talk that talk honey, walk that walk money
Hound legs outta spank Jehovah
Who am I?
It's not important
But they call me Brother To The Night
And right now...
I'm the blues in your left thigh
Trying to become the funk in yo' right
Who am I?
I'll be whoever you say
But right now, I'm the sight raped hunter
Blindly pursuing you as my prey
And I just wanna give you injections
Of sublime erections and get you to dance to my rhythm
Make you dream archetypes, of black angels in flight
Upon wings of distorted, contorted, metaphoric gism
C'mon slim
Fuck yo' man, I ain't worried about him
It's you who I want to step to my scene
Cuz rather than deal with the fallacy of this dry ass reality
I rather dance and romance your sweet ass in a wet dream
Who am I?
Well they all call me Brother To The Night
And right now...
I'm the blues in your left thigh
Trying to become the funk in yo' right
Is that alright?
(Audience applaudes)
Carrie's Narration
Oh my gosh! I think I just had an orgasm. Or shall I say an eargasm as the last poet stated in her poem.
Wow, was he talking to me? He had to have been? He just kept staring at me the whole entire time.Was he reciting that poem to me? I can't wait to tell the girls about this fateful encounter. He looks so good and oh my gosh....he is coming this way. What am I going to.......
And just like that....
He walked right past me.
Apparently, he was eyeing the woman right behind me. She is one lucky girl. I think her friend called her Nina or something. Oh well.
Well, tomorrow is a new day and I'll drown my sorrows with a fresh pair off Manalo Blahnik kitten heels and a pair of Chloe shades. Wait until the girls hear about this.....
(After having a "catch-up" dinner with her friend Stanford Blache in Chicago, Carrie decides to take a walk.)
Carrie's Narration
One day while walking down the streets of Chicago, I stumbled upon this quaint poetry cafe which was filled with a diverse array of people. Being the spontaneous person that I am, I decided to see what the crowd was so obviously enjoying. Once I found a place to sit, I felt like I belonged there. The atmosphere was really inviting and as I looked around people would smile and nod as if they knew me for some time. I've never been to a place like this with Samantha, Miranda or Charlotte and it was pretty nice to get away from the flash of our daily lifestyles. Don't get me wrong, fashion is my thing-send me a pair of stiletto's any day. However, there was something here that touched my soul despite a few fashion hazards in the crowd. These people here had something to say and clearly vibed off of one another.
During my introspective moment, I noticed this gorgeous man grace the stage. I've never had an interracial relationship before but he was someone worth checking out. He seemed to have a majestic quality about him which excited me beyond belief.
"Man, I wish Samantha was here to size him up with me. However, she may try to steal him for herself. Hmmm, this piece of eye-candy is all mine....for the moment anyway."
As my new found "friend" clutched the mic, I became motionless and intent on listening to his every word. Then, the bassist began to play a tune and "Mr. Eye-Candy's" poem came to life.
Mr. Eye-Candy Poet:
Say baby, can I be your slave?
I got to admit girl, you're the shit girl
And I'm diggin' you like a grave
Now do they call you daughter to the spinnin' post
Or maybe queen of ten thousand moons
Sista to the distant, yet rising star
Is your name Yemeya?
Ah, hell nah, it's got to be Oshun
Is that a smile me put on your face child?
Wide as a field of jasmine and glover
Talk that talk honey, walk that walk money
Hound legs outta spank Jehovah
Who am I?
It's not important
But they call me Brother To The Night
And right now...
I'm the blues in your left thigh
Trying to become the funk in yo' right
Who am I?
I'll be whoever you say
But right now, I'm the sight raped hunter
Blindly pursuing you as my prey
And I just wanna give you injections
Of sublime erections and get you to dance to my rhythm
Make you dream archetypes, of black angels in flight
Upon wings of distorted, contorted, metaphoric gism
C'mon slim
Fuck yo' man, I ain't worried about him
It's you who I want to step to my scene
Cuz rather than deal with the fallacy of this dry ass reality
I rather dance and romance your sweet ass in a wet dream
Who am I?
Well they all call me Brother To The Night
And right now...
I'm the blues in your left thigh
Trying to become the funk in yo' right
Is that alright?
(Audience applaudes)
Carrie's Narration
Oh my gosh! I think I just had an orgasm. Or shall I say an eargasm as the last poet stated in her poem.
Wow, was he talking to me? He had to have been? He just kept staring at me the whole entire time.Was he reciting that poem to me? I can't wait to tell the girls about this fateful encounter. He looks so good and oh my gosh....he is coming this way. What am I going to.......
And just like that....
He walked right past me.
Apparently, he was eyeing the woman right behind me. She is one lucky girl. I think her friend called her Nina or something. Oh well.
Well, tomorrow is a new day and I'll drown my sorrows with a fresh pair off Manalo Blahnik kitten heels and a pair of Chloe shades. Wait until the girls hear about this.....