Tuesday, May 5, 2009


She was raped at thirteen
So don't ask her what an orgasm feels like
They say Cleopatra
Had three in a day
When most women don't have
Any in a lifetime

I think its because nowadays there are
Mistakes between our thighs

Call my theory what you will

Penetrating fingers
And whispers
Are bad memories
Lies and betrayal
Portrayed by our fathers
Long before you

Older brothers have slapped
Their women with the same
Palms that have caressed our
Mothers faces

So negro don't feel special
You are just a reoccurring memory

Your raised hand clenched
Black panther style
Bruise already discolored lips
Your lying eyes
Tell truths that women's intuition
Prostitute themselves for
Whispered through teeth
Resembling the bars you
Once gripped when the man held you down

The only man holding you down
Is the one you face upon reflection
Or those low down
Clung to your back within the shadows
And during the light coming home to your wife

There are mistakes between her thighs
Fingerprints registered in the system
Lip prints of a man who's whispered blame on anyone who will listen

So after you're done
Thrusting the best energy you've
Given towards a goal in your life

Ask her what it felt like
And she'll tell you,

A mistake.



INTJ's Rj said...

Excellent Poem, Riva.

Unknown said...

this is amazing. It really is. It touched me.

Unknown said...


Anonymous said...

Girl, you are so talented it don't even make no sense! *clears throat* about those boys... on that block... in brooklyn.... update! update! Lol.

nianicole said...


The Notorious Z.A.G. said...

Vivid and tangible...heart wrenching and brilliant. I love love LOVE your work!