Tag: black

Undeniably Yours

I’m so happy.

I published my fifth romance book this week. Just in time for the holidays. I don’t get a lot of reviews, and I don’t think I ever will, but the feeling of accomplishment I get whenever I finish telling a story, a romantic one at that, gives me such pleasure. I live so much in my head I fear that it’s where I prefer to be most of the time. Anyway, I wanted to let anyone know who is still following this poetry blog that it’s available on Amazon. And that my author website is finished as well. I will leave the information below.

Happy Holidays, and stay safe.

-N

Undeniably Yours by Nicole Renee: https://amzn.to/3mu8JLO

Official Author Website: https://bit.ly/3H4XyRI

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The Hidden Snake

I hurt from the pain I see.

I can’t stop these tears that awash my face.

There is a terrorist attack happening,

And It’s on my people.

My people are being

Killed,

Raped,

Choked,

Sprayed,

Targeted,

Hunted,

Treated like animals,

Treated as If we don’t exist,

As If we don’t matter.

I am lost,

I am somewhere.

My body longs for freedom.

To soar above the clouds,

Away from oppression,

Away from man.

I long to call for help,

To call a SOS.

But the people I would normally call,

In a time of need,

Are intent on persecuting me.

I see no win.

I see no escape.

I feel my people’s pain.

I hear their cry.

Will the Pharoahs of the world ever let us out of our bonds?

How long before God hears our prayer?

I am even being hunted in God’s sanctuary!

When will my people find release?

When will my people ever be avenged?

-N

Un Mauvais Rêve

I woke from a horrible dream.
It has me frayed at the seams.
I’m unstable,
unsure,
and unclear.

A pair of hands kept choking me,
People were dying,
No one could hear me crying.
I think that’s what scared me the most.

Not the fact that I couldn’t breathe;
Not the fact that I could see the devil himself seethe;
It was the the simple realization that no one could hear me.

Isn’t that what we fear the most?
No one to hear us in times of trouble,
and be able to come close?

I look for peace in a song,
But even Haim can’t help me in this circumstance.

It seems I am helpless,
sleepless,
restless.

So I keep running.
I keep running.

-N

A Pitch-Black Realization

There’s a darkness,
That lives in me.
I try to keep it at bay.
But these heartless people,
this compassionless world,
has birthed the evil inside me,
And kept the joy and mirth at bay.

You say to me,
Nicole don’t be that way,
Nicole it’s all just hearsay,
Nicole, Nicole Nicole.

No!
YOU were supposed to help me sleep!
YOU were supposed to keep the peace!
But I digress.

No one can be your happiness.
This world will take advantage,
But I’ll manage.

You will see,
No one can be,
As cruel as a woman such as me.
You’ll agree,
Beg and plea!

But too late the queen has been unveiled,
hanging the next victim,
from the silk tree.

-N

The Unthinkable

“I ain’t draft dodging. I ain’t burning no flag. I ain’t running to Canada. I’m staying right here. You want to send me to jail? Fine, you go right ahead. I’ve been in jail for 400 years. I could be there for 4 or 5 more, but I ain’t going no 10,000 miles to help murder and kill other poor people. If I want to die, I’ll die right here, right now, fightin’ you, if I want to die. You my enemy, not no Chinese, no Vietcong, no Japanese. You my opposer when I want freedom. You my opposer when I want justice. You my opposer when I want equality. Want me to go somewhere and fight for you? You won’t even stand up for me right here in America, for my rights and my religious beliefs. You won’t even stand up for my right here at home.” -Muhammad Ali

So I have some things to say.
Today in sunny northern california (Vacaville to be precise) my sister was driving towards the local grocery store. My mother sent her to pick up a couple of items. After dropping me off at the gym, she went on her journey to the store.

My sister later narrates that she saw a parking space near the front. So she turns on the signal, and drives to pull in the parking space. My sister stops the car, and calls out to the driver when he steps out of the car. She says, “Sir, did you not see that I was pulling in?” The older white man walks toward my sister and starts to yell at the top of his lungs. These are his words precisely;
“You nigger bitch! I can take what I want! What are you going to do about it Nigger Nigger Nigger!” My sister tells me that she is so shocked that she is staying in the car trying to calm down. Others are staring, and she is becoming more agitated and embarrassed. She comes home and tells my mother, father, and me what had happened.
Afterward she comes and sits by my side, and just keep shaking her head. She looks at me, and I know what she wants to say. I can see it in her eyes. They are saying why? Why would someone approach me like that?
People like to choke things up to road rage, people losing their temper, and saying things out of context.
But I’m not.
When I’m angry at a white person I don’t start yelling derogatory names like, “cracker,” or question your family lineage. So why should you do the same.
I’m sick. I’m sick and tired of hearing this still going on. I’m sick and tired of it being 2015, and people still think they have a right to talk to my younger sister that way. It gets old.
Real old.

-N

Prove It To Me In The Nude……..

Heart beats quickly.
I can’t breathe.
This heady sensation.
No don’t stop,
keep going.
If all I can have is pleasure,
Then let me treasure.

Laying on this bed,
feels like paradise.
My heart feels compromised;
Yet I roll the dice.

You lean over my body.
You whisper in my ear,
You tell me things a woman should hear.

Feeling open,
Exposed,
Where is the fire coming from?
This internal steam.
You make me cream.
You scare me because you make me dream.

Dream about more than the average,
To reach for something above and beyond.

Because of your hands,
You have me doing things I don’t understand.
You make me second guess what I thought I knew.
How could I never had a clue?

You hold my body as a person should.
You tell me to trust,
You tell me it’s a must.
I’m trying, but it’s hard.

I tell you but you kiss me,
Hold me,
Shake your head and tell me that you can keep me safe and warm.
I shake my head and disagree.
I tell you,
It’s so hard to give something you fear being broken.
Used,
Overlooked.

You caress my face,
And tell me of a place we will go.
You tell me to close my eyes,
And you will make all the worry subside.

Seen, scream, beam.
You know the theme.

I take a sip from the flask,
and take off the mask.

-N

Put A Smile On My Face………..

“I just want you to come over….” -C.B.

You know how I feel.
You know what’s real.
Ill, will, seal,
You know the deal.
I’m dizzy,
from being on the continuous wheel.
My hearts open,
I hope you steal.
beg, borrow, anything.
Boy, you make me squeal.
You are it.
You are the ideal,
The thing I reach for,
The thing I’m trying to grab.
The one I nag,
grab,
snag,
anything to keep from calling and stabbing the phone for a cab.
I’m stuck.
I wanna go,
flee, leave.
My skin is tingling,
ready and waiting for your’s and mine skin to mingle.
Please don’t leave me single.
I’m insane.
My friends tell me to use my brain,
They say, “Nicole don’t strain.”
But I complain.
I need you like the earth needs rain.
I toss and turn but it’s all in vain,
Feeling drained.
Please, help me abstain.
But there you are standing,
holding that wretched glass of champagne.

-N

Heartbreakingly Beautiful

Hello world,
let me introduce myself.
You see I’ve been kind,
of sound mind,
and always on time;
But no more.
Give me a minute, a moment,
a second for you to understand my plea.
I can’t really call it a plea because I don’t
care if you see.
I don’t care,
If this makes the hair stand up on your neck.
I don’t care
If this gives you chill bumps on your arms.
You see, I am beautiful.
And no I’m not 5’5 125 and blonde.
No I am not,
I’m proud to have hips, thighs, and seductive eyes.
I’m glad to be tall.
I’m glad to have breasts, a swagger, and a sweet behind that ain’t going no where.
I’m glad to have melanin in my skin and don’t need to bend.
I’m glad that I come from a culture a country a history
so rich, so grand that you couldn’t possibly understand.
I’m so glad that my people had to go through trials and tribulations,
separation of families, and dynasties
that only made us,
that made me stronger.
Now understand chattel slavery wasn’t an ideal way to make us stronger,
but you know, I guess it’s my people fault for being an inferior race and all.
But I shouldn’t jest,
my mind seems to digress.
I’m not sorry if I don’t cower in fear.
I’m not sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear.
Save your pity,
your crocodile tears.
I’m through being patient.
You see the world I live in thinks from time to time to stereotype
me,
to call me names so that I know my place.
The world I live in thinks it’s okay to tell other girls, and women
to lighten yourself a bit,
to wear your hair a certain way,
and in some states to call me bae.
In some places it’s okay to STILL call my father,
a grown man with a family boy.
In some states it’s okay to shoot at black boys, and men because you think they may harm you when in all honestly they die following orders, and rules THEY demand of you.
In some states it’s okay to shoot and beat a black woman on the street just for asking why you want to arrest her.
In some states it’s okay to pull over two black young girls leaving the beach, and put your hands in their privates for the world to see just because they were speeding.
In some states it’s okay to call me a nigger, darkie, sexual fiend, that needs a iron fist and a ruling hand.
Oh, I’m sorry it was in the past so it means that I shouldn’t offend your delicate sensibilities.
Again my sincerest apologies.
Someone please come and clean up this sorry lot.
these words I jot,
on the spot,
should hopefully educate a tot.
-N