Jamaican Poetry: What’s in a name

By: Denise N. Fyffe.
Copyright © 2011, Poetess Defy, Denise Fyffe

He walks up to me
Looking like Hersey’s candy
So smooth, so divine;
I let him think
What he wants of me,
Giving him the perfect glimpse of my hidden sins;
I dear not blink
As he utters
His rehearsed pick up line;
I give him a smile
So sublime
And bide my time;
Anticipating the hunt
For what lies between
The feral part of me;
He sets the stage
And like Halle Berry
I release the Monster, stalking him slowly;

Playing a game
Of cat and mouse
But I know the rules this time;
I know this maze
Been through this faze
And have no reservations, I’ll walk the thin line;
I nod my head
To his request, and I sympathize
For I’ll make him deeply regret
He didn’t tell me the truth
Instead of choosing lies;

For what’s in a name
When you’re only playing a game
When you are hunting on the streets;
For what’s in a name
When you only want to rattle
These bones beneath silken sheets;
As I take a step
Shifting my dress
Wetting his eyes;
The game is on
And I remain calm
Letting the music flow
Through my body
And down my thighs;
I turn my back
Fitting into his body
Behaving like a houri
About to give the strip tease of a life time;
Tonight is about fun
And I prepare
To make his blood, steadily run;
To pitch his pressure
I’ll do even better
Than a girl from Caesars club;
From warm to hot
I’ll pour the steam
To ignite every fantasy he’s got;
I’ll turn my hip
Gyrate and twist
Like Shakira on cocaine and ‘pot’;
Move up on him
Making his mind swim
Tormenting him relentlessly;
Bending his will
Thrilling his pecker
Making him beg incessantly;
I am reassured
To taunt him more
To make him beg and plead;
I’ll make him regret
He ever met
The houri of his fantasies;
For what’s in a name
When you seek a dozen thrills, each night
What’s in a name
when you boldly seek
The nymph in every girl you find;

For what’s in a name
When you’re only playing a game
When you are hunting on the streets
For what’s in a name
When you only want to rattle
These bones beneath silken sheets;
I nod my head
Giving him a smile
So sublime;
A peck on the cheek
A dare in my stare
As I walk away slowly, timing my stride;
To him I become
Like Hersey’s kisses
So smooth, so divine;
My hidden sins
Lost to him
Forever this time;
I bet he will think
There was some truth
In those false pick up lines;
That he could reach me and pull me into
The true orbit of his life;

For what’s in a name
When he seeks a dozen thrills each night
Now he’ll never know
If this would have been, the thrill of his life.

What’s in a name…

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