Back In The Day..

Remember break dancing and double-dutch?  Remember Phat Laces and "Fortune Tellers"?  Fortune Tellers, the folded up pieces of paper with colors and numbers and that told you who you were gonna marry, the type of car your have and how long you'll live?  Penny Candy???  Now-N-Laters and Chico Sticks?  Astro Pops and Boston Baked Beans... MIKE & IKE'S???  How about the first boy or first girl you held hands with?  What was his name?  Was it the Parachute Pants with all the zippers and shell toe Adidas that he always kept spotless (with a toothbrush) with matching Phat Laces that got you to swoon?  Fellas, was it because her Mom always hooked up her perm and she had the prettiest hair in class?  Or was the tight purple Jordache jeans that made your hormones scream?  Or was it because her breath always smelled like watermelon Now-N-Laters? What was the first song you slow danced too?  Love You Down by Ready For The World?  Shower Me With Your Love by Surface?  Or perhaps Ooh This Love Is So by Al B. Sure!?

Yeah, I know.  Damn...so much simpler back then.  I hope this trip back down memory lane was as good for you as it was for me.  The following is my Ode' to 1984.  If you weren't yet born or aren't familiar with the days of 1984 in the Mid-West...sorry, it sucks to be you. (JOKING, uh..seriously).  I hope you have as much fun reading this shortie...as much fun as I had writing it.

PUPPY LOVE

Something happened.  My heart stopped.  My fingers went numb, I felt like my feet were no longer touching the ground.  Sounds came through like I had water in my ears.  Her lips, I have dreamed of those lips.  They kissed me. 

She captivates me.  Her presence is a vastness of warmth and comfort.  A feeling of home and I don’t want to leave.  Her smile lifts me and the feeling I get when her fingers run down my arms gives me the simultaneous fire-n-ice feeling all over.  She speaks in a sultry alto and my toes curl. 

She still tastes like honey.  Soft as a summer breeze...my mind sends me.  She is Junior High lemonade stands, roller skates, Double-Dutch and Hide and Go Get It too.  She is the sweetest memory standing before me.  Warm and fuzzy things goin’ on in my stomach.  That crazy puppy love feeling I got when I first saw those pig tails and pink barrettes in the 5^th grade comes rushing in like the Atlantic did to the Titanic.  Now I am drowning.  Green eyes shock me back into living.  I was code blue, standing, stammering.  My first kiss has come back and now she stands before me and it appears that time has romanced her like I always dreamed I wanted to.  Her skin is the shade of cinnamon and maple syrup. Her green eyes dance beneath her light blue eye shadow.  High cheek bones and the fullness of her lips bring back the x-rated dreams of one pre-pubescent boy and run through my mind as she smiles at me and reaches for my hand.  My hand with the wedding ring. 

Her eyes tell me that she hasn’t forgotten our puppy love. 

Quickies..(PLURAL)

My time here has been brief from the site traffic report some of you REALLY  like what XpressionFruit is doing.  Trust me...I REALLY like that you like it! 

For your continued support I give you not one.  No not even 2 but yes!  Yes!!  YES!!  3 Quickies!  WOW.. Say no more and I shall say even less..

Squeeze your legs together ladies, wrap your arms around yourselves and RELEASE..

Enjoy!

VACANCY

Steady, rhythmic pat of the rain on my back provides a natural acoustic accompaniment to the moment. My eyes refusing to blink.  Content to allow the salt water that seeps from the edges to mix with the wetness from above.  Camouflage.  Her words echo inside my head and coupled with the sway of her hips as she walked away, emotion floods my insides and seep from my eyes. She submitted her resignation. 

                                                                                     Copyright © PureRenaissance 2010

STORM WARNING

I just want to escape my current state of being and move in and out of her like a hurricane. Leave her wrecked and wet.  Stretch her and flex her. Lift her and press her.  My desires take flight and circles high above her thighs.  Flesh becomes me and rules my moment.. Hands have eyes of their own and look to move quickly beyond the camisole.  Mouth decided to spit game to the lips with many names.  Na-Na is the name she gave, ooze is the way she came.  Spine bends and toes curl as fingers grab hair and the shaft, yeah it went there. Spellbound she confessed...she has never been lifted, stretched, flexed or pressed like this.  My Category 4 leaves this woman on the floor.. post clitoral bliss and she still insists, one more time.  Again like a hurricane and her legs spread wide for me and I dive for me.  Loving inside her thighs for me.  Move her, press her, stretch her, rub and flex her.  Wrecked and wet, my love never forgets.  

                                                                                 Copyright © PureRenaissance 2010

JUST SEX

I can see what remains…through cloudy eyes.  2 pints of V.S.O.P. has added haze to this vision, but I can still see.  Candlelight is still bouncing off the walls, casting shadows across the bedroom.  Vanilla is still present in the air from the bath beads and massage oil.  Spent candles have faded and left a puddle of wax down the side of the tub and onto the rug.  Damn, that will be expensive to clean.  From my chaise, I look across the room I remember that it is definitely worth it.  Cocoa colored, sweet as sugar cane and soft as raw cotton, she lays.  I stare.  Ready to reminisce but I am still in the moment, savoring it.   She lies on her stomach, nothing but satin sheets, separating my view from one of my favorite parts of her.  Where the sheet stops I can see the shallow of the small of her back, still speckled with perspiration.  Her frame is marvelous.  I love the flawless span of skin from one shoulder to the other.  She has the sexiest neck I have every seen.  Not a glance I own that passes over her that my dick doesn’t get hard.  Her silence calls to me.   Her sex has my doctor ready to prescribe me blood pressure medication.  Moments ago she whispered sweet nastiness to me as I sucked and nibbled her southern most passion.  My head game gave her a fluency in a language she never studied in high school.  Calls out to Jehovah inspired my tongue to find new depths.  Her hands crept around my ears and she held me there.  Pinned from below I captured her eagerness.  Sweet wetness gives me strength.  To rise from below and take her from the back.  Legs spread and hips high.  My oh my how I love my concubine.

                                                                              Copyright © PureRenaissance 2010

I think I love..

..having an audience.  At times I am a voyuer.  Others, the LEO in me wants to be center stage.  With center stage comes responsibility.  For my content, I am responsible.. now what you do with, what I percieve as my gifts, well that's entirely up to you. 

AS ALWAYS - Heartfelt THANK YOU for reading.

Enjoy~

Unseen

Someone Blue once meant the world to me

Tore my pages down with one blink of her eye

Rebuilding took a thousand years,

Til she blinked again

My pen couldn't keep pace with the twist in her hips

or bend in her dips

So I type to keep her rhyme

Now a strong breathing rhythm in my time

Clickin’ on these keys

Her head dips back and her toes curl when I fall to my knees

Someone Blue once meant the world to me

Her green turned me on

But only when she gave them to me

Asking meant having

But only her giving was truly receiving

Someone Blue once meant the world to me

So I teased her and she danced for me

Twisted and twirled her curls for me

But I couldn't see past the licks in her Crayola box

So much more than 64

Her abstract had me flat on my back

Captured by the creases in her brow

The sweat dips and hits me on my chest

When she goes up then slowly comes back down

...to rest

Someone blue once meant the world to me

If only I wasn't color blind

Maybe I could see

She hid behind the color line and cursed me silently

As I smiled

Wild and benign to the purpose in her rhyme

I thought I had seen it

Her will bent only to her make-believe

My truth was not the root

Her future was brown not blue

And my needs were sight unseen

Her Blue was a hue

Too perfect for me

My only sin was that I couldn’t see

Someone Blue, once meant the world to me.

Copyright © PureReniassance 2010

Def Poetry Jam Ensemble

Here at XpressionFruit.com it is my joy that I share with you true Spoken Word.  Russell Simmons has done justice to an age old art.  Spoken Word is a timeless tool of Love, Dissent, Revolution, Anger, Sadness and the list goes on.  For many, the right verbs from the right voice will send troops into war or send lovers into the bedroom.  Def Poetry Jam has given this art a national platform and often, XpressionFruit.com will celebrate that platform by sharing some of the best.  Please, enjoy.

"Our biggest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure."  This poem is powerful beyond measure.  I will say no more and let the piece speak for itself.  This is a XpressionFruit favorite.





Another beautiful piece...




I conclude this weeks Def Poetry Jam recap with GEMINI.  A True Warrior Poet.  LISTEN.  LISTEN.  LISTEN.

Introducing... Taalam Acey

Let me think, hmmmm..?  There are people that just set the standard that us mere mortals sometimes strive to reach.  You have Tiger Woods to the number of felonious affairs. Fiddy Cent to the number of times he can reference being shot in one rap to sell a record. Wacka Flocka to THE absolute worst stage name in the entire history of entertainment. 

Now really, these standards no one really cares for.  But however the man featured below is the Michael Jordan of the Mic.  He is the male version of Jilly from Philly.  Put it like this, here is a quote from his second piece. ( And you must hear both.  After the first one he comes right back to stay tuned and just watch. )

Taalam Acey FREESTYLE
" After I undress and lay down, I am going to whisper poems in your ear, at frequencies so beautiful, only your clitoris can hear"

OH MM Geee!  If I can be 1/3rd of the poet and wordsmith that Talaam Acey I will be very successful.

So with no further ado, Introducing - Taalam Acey

A little sharing never hurt..

I am asked where my inspiration comes from.  How do I capture the passion?  How do I create such "booty call" inspiring passages?  By working smarter, not harder.  My favorite authors do this very thing and do it well.  I read and re-read my favorite books.  Often I am moved in a different direction each time.  The end result is always my work but the inspiration is stolen.  Here is a passage from a book from my favorite author.  I think after I read it, somebodies phone was ringing...and no I wasn't ordering a pizza.

ENJOY~

     Some time goes by.  Some talking.  At some point I hold her.  Touch her.  And that naughty grin blooms on her face.  The one that starts in the left corner of her mouth, and expands with desire.  We lay back under the covers.  And we explore each other. The magic is always there.  The chemistry remains so strong.
     I put my mouth on her breast, a hand between her legs, tell her, "You're wet."
     Her bracelets jingle as she moves me up and down.  "I know."
     "When did you get wet?"
     "When you opened the door.  How many times do I have to tell you that you have this effect on me?"
     "Thought you were mad."
     "I might get mad, might scream and shout and hit upside the head with a pot, but Bermuda is never, never mad at you, don't you know that?  She always welcomes you."
     I kiss her.  Touch her.
     She says, "Seven years and I still excite you?"
     "Just like you did the Jeep."
     Her tongue traces from my chest until the heat from her mouth consumes that growing part of me.  She used to afraid to do that, now she won't stop unitl I beg for mercy.
     She stops savoring, stares at my handle with studious eyes, "Hard to believe all of this goes in me."
     We turn, and like cats, we do each other at the same time, slow and easy.
     Her tongue traces up and down as she moans.  "You are the pussy-eating king, you know that?"
    "Why, thank you."
    "You always give me honeymoon sex."
     I look at Bermuda. Talk to her. Touch her. Taste her. I love her aroma on my face.
     Nicole shudders.  "Ooooo.  You're making Bermuda quiver."
     My phone rings again.  We're too busy pleasing each other to stop.
     She pulls her locks and squirms.  "I want you on top of me."
     I say, "French.  Ask me in French."
     "Baise moi, Oooo baby. Baise moi."
     The phone rings again.
     Nicole bucks, pulls me deeper inside her, slaps my ass in a steady rhythm, chants how much she wants me, needs me, loves me.

• Dickey, Eric Jerome.  "Chapter 7, page 67 & 68."  Between Lovers. New York: Dutton, 2001. Print.

I enjoy multi-lingual cunnilingus.. and in French no less...  ROTF..

Good Night!

Love Unlocked. The series, Part I

Carefully she moves…not wanting to wake him.  She can still smell the alcohol seeping from his pores mixed with the cheap perfume from whomever he's been fucking lately. "Son-of-a-bitch! So tired of all your shit," she says quietly to herself.   Tip-toeing into the closet she pulls all her clothes into her Louis Vuitton Luggage. Grabs her Manolos & Pradas.  Grabs her diamonds and even her wedding ring.  "I earned this," she says to herself.  "BEEEEP-BEEEP!!"  4:45 a.m. and the horn from the taxi outside on the curb slices through her attempts at secrecy. "Damn-it told his ass I'd be down and NOT to blow the horn." 

She peeks around the door frame, checking to make sure the excuse of a man has not been brought back into the land of the conscious.  "Good, still out like a light."  She has been putting up with all the, "I'll change" speeches she can handle from him over the last few months.  Fast women and liquor seem to be all he has cared about since his father passed a bit more than a year ago.   He has put his hands on her for the last time.  "Punk-ass, I hope I never see your trifling ass again!" as she sneaks out of the 2 story brownstone in renovated Harlem. 

This place has been home to her greatest happiness and simultaneously the darkest hours of her life for the last 4 years. The birth and subsequent passing of her only child, their only child, Brianna Marie.  SIDS took her at 7 months old.   Jamal was so connected, so supportive at during that time.  The post-partum depression was just starting to wane when the star of her life passed into the arms of the Lord.   She cursed Him for taking her away.  Still hasn't quite come to terms with Him over that fateful night 2 years ago.  Jamal was close to the edge after losing her but since the sudden death of his father shortly after losing Brianna, he has never been able to bounce back.  Refused counseling, refused to admit that there was even a problem.  Black men seem to believe that admitting they need help speaks to a weakness or deficiency in the size of their dick.

Silently as she can she travels down the steps of what will no longer be her place of residence.  She looks back at the place that she used to call her sanctuary.  Still conflicted she said, "I can't do it anymore Jamal…" as she set her wedding ring and her set of keys on the console table and quietly closed the foyer door behind her.   Tears flowed down her cheeks as she crossed the threshold and dragged her bags down the last of the steps to the curb.  "You alright Ma'am," as the cab driver helped her with her luggage.  "Yes I'm fine.  Please take me to the Westin at LaGuardia Airport."  "Yes ma'am." 

A cool wind blew down 125^th Street and a chill soared through her, down to the bone.  Another look up at the darkened window, and she wonders silently, " Can I really do this?"  With a deep breath she knows that a part of her will always be here.  New York City has been a part of her, woven intricately into her social and emotional fabric.  She knows next to the loss of her baby, getting on a plane will be the next single most difficult thing to do. 

She pulls her collar of her coat closed and tries to push the pain from last 2 years from her memory. Desperately she wants to live in the laughter filled days of yesterday spent with Jamal.  He is her family. Was her family.  She pulled her cell phone out, pushed the number 2 and hit send.  Just after the first ring, "Hey baby…are you okay?"  "Yes, I'm fine…, I'll be landing at Dulles tomorrow afternoon…can you pick me up?"  The seductive baritone voice on the other end responded, "Of course…it's about time. I love you Pilar."  As she closed the door of the cab and sat down, "I know, I just had to be sure… I will see you tomorrow."

..to be continued

Copyright © PureRenaissance 2007

Welcome and thanks for stopping by!

Sometimes maybe just a great one liner to get you through the day.  Other times a touching story of erotica to get you home to have your "needs" tended to.


You never know what you may get but I guarentee you will get a fix of great Lit upon every visit.  This marks the first of many posts to come.  Great poets and writers both local and national talent will grace this site and leave their hearts, their thoughts, fears, failures and successes all for your enjoyment. 


After you get your fix, please feel free to leave your hearts, thoughts, fears, failures and successes in our comments section for our authors.  We appreciate that.


Sincerely, thank you for stopping by and welcome to XpressionFruit.com.


XpressionFruit.com ~ Have you had your serving today?  Get Sum!