Biography of nia imani
I have always loved to write. For me to write is to breathe. I will write about anything and everything hopefully until the day I die. I also LOVE to read. Food and music make up the majority of the rest of my interests, and as I am somewhat shy, that's about it for now! Check back for updates, I guess...
nia imani Poems
KIck me again And watch me deflate- A once new soccer ball Promised fair play,
Sensual Erotica New to my soul Save me from that fading
Do not tell me that I cannot sing: I never asked for your critique! As one cannot tell a caged bird to keep quiet, So one cannot quell that innermost riot
Of all the people I have loved, U r undoubtedly the hardest 2 miss: No 1 could b as mean as u; No 1 could duplicate your kiss.
'Let's try and work this out, ' one said. 'Shut up and listen to me, ' the other said, Never realizing that in the first's head This signified that they were already dead.
The books that come- what dreams they know! They give my mind some place to go,
Chin on the pillow as though it were your shoulder... If this were u, my arm would stretch across your chest, My leg drape across your thigh as though I possessed u. I would not mind if u were actually behind me
I write so that should I lose my tongue, Still am I able to speak. I write so that should I lose my eyes, Still am I able to see.
I can't seem to find the keys to me- Would u happen to know what they might be? Recovery from some dream deferred Or perhaps less desire to be heard
These women here are treacherous, Backstabbing and vicious, Malignantly malicious Parasitic pirrhana fishes.
As years go by, we learn how to hide when we cry. We sometimes forget why we wanted to try to be the pie in the eye Of a beloved. So learn to remember that u once; earned that love is unearned
I Don'T Care
I don't care how u feel about me; I don't care if u know that I exist; I don't care if u give another vows; I don't care that it's not my touch u miss;
All the same, Yet each unique: Peculiar sameness Of each different piece;
As years go by, we learn how to hide when we cry.
We sometimes forget why we wanted to try to be the pie in the eye
Of a beloved.
So learn to remember that u once; earned that love is unearned
Though oft spurned more often in deed than in word.
And so must I (as this old sun fresh rises) remember I decided to try.
Therefore will I
Go sit outside,