Sunday, April 29, 2007

Still Searching

~by Rudi

Reasons for the lack of love are floating everywhere.
I’m searching for some hope, some sign that isn’t even there.
My heart is ready, wide open now, no barriers do I see
Then why is no one coming in, what’s so darn wrong with me?
The one I’m looking for is kind; she’s funny, smart and true,
Her heart is pure, her smile is bright, her love spans through and through.
Is this too much to ask, unreasonable my request?
‘Cause this I believe describes her well, the one who fits me best.
She’s kinda short, well shorter than me; well, if I may be so bold
Complexion dark as the most rare pearls, or fair as the marigold.
Mushy? I know, well, I don’t care, it’s just the way I feel
Too bad, who knows in what time or space this figment herself reveal.

It’s funny how every girl I know wants a man who’s honest and kind,
Yet when he happens to avail himself, in an instant, who once could see, are blind.
“Where is my knight in shining armour? My prince I wait aloft.”
But when he comes to rescue her, “ Da bwoy deh, lawks ‘'im too sof’.”
It seems they want someone with an edge, one who might bring them hurt.
To tell their friends, “’im was once a dawg, but see ‘im I did convert.”
The ones who already ‘come correct’, dem damn well best be cute,
Cause if dem too short, dem nose too big, dem hair too rough, dem knock-knee ben
Shoe size too small, head size too big, “Oh no, dat bwoy, he’s jus’ a frien’.”

Another thing that baffles me like peas without the rice,
Is, in all my years I never thought that a boyfriend could be too nice.
To offer her a back rub to lighten a stressful day;
To know just when her cycle starts in case she wants you to go away;
A call to say I miss you; walking on the outside of the sidewalk;
To listen quietly on the phone while she talk, an’ talk, an’ talk;
Sacrifices made just because you like her being around
To watch her sleep, listening to her snore just ‘cause you like the sound.
Too bad, right now, right nowadays, some things seem not to matter
This whole poem could be a total waste, just blank directionless chatter.
Or is it just a ploy to see how much attention it finds?
Too bad, it seems I’ll never know…not good at reading minds.

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