Soul-full
Soul-full
Poetry
Soul-full
Poetry
Leo Shelton
A Tugson Press project
Soul-full – Poetry
All Rights Reserved © 2007 by United States Copyright Office – Library of Congress
No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or utilized in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher. Inquiries should be address to Permissions, Tugson Press, Attn: Leo Shelton, P.O. Box 429, Temple Hills, MD 20757
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Shelton, Leo,
Soul-full – Poetry / Leo Shelton.
p. cm.
ISBN: 0-9791786-1-4
1. Poetry, urban, American. 2. Afro-Americans – Poetry. I.
Title.
ISBN-10: 0-9791786-1-4
ISBN-13: 978-0-9791786-1-0
Printed in the United States of America
Book Design by L. Shelton
Cover Art by Aaron Shelton
Sometimes love comes with as much as a mutter
Where hap or circumstance doesn’t matter
Sometimes in the middle of the night
Through virtual beams
In words and things
And sometimes it stays for just a while
Makes you think, dream, smile
And sometimes a part of a bigger plan
It changes woman, child and man
And sometimes…
Just sometimes…
It creates a whole different you
Or helps you find one you already knew..
Sometimes it fills your soul...
Sometimes it is just love.
- Leo
For Tim’m
A mentor, a muse, an inspiration, a love, a friend
CONTENTS
Soulful / 13
Craving / 15
CRUSHED! / 17
Here / 18
Comfort / 20
LOUDLY! / 24
Flow / 25
Nexus / 27
What becomes…/ 29
Who? / 31
Bound / 33
Fragile?!? / 34
There / 36
More / 38
Carmel / 40
Re: Honey Suckle, kiss / 42
Like Flow… / 43
Pitch / 46
HAPPY Day! / 47
Tracts / 49
Flight / 51
Even More / 52
Salute / 53
Sync / 54
Ice Passion / 55
Hello / 56
Over-cast / 58
Blind / 59
Another Lost One / 61
Still Love / 63
Obsessed / 64
Say Nothing / 65
Chocolate / 66
Cook-off / 67
Show-tell / 68
Maternal / 69
Unedited / 70
Records / 72
Southern / 73
Misting / 74
Share / 75
Quiz / 76
Retro / 77
Booked / 78
September / 79
Such a thing / 80
Around / 82
IF / 83
Wrongfully / 84
Still fantasy / 85
Slumber / 86
Dupe / 87
Drip / 88
Poet-tree / 89
Soul-full
Poetry
Leo Shelton
Soulful
Heart stabbing songs
Rippling like jazz
Flowing with a blush
Into puckered lips
Landing exactly
Where they should
Silky smooth hooks
Like the pedal of roses
Touching your face
Then neck…Then…
Piercing thorns
Strike like x-lovers wordz
Never missing a beat….
Tight buzzes
Reminiscent of first high’s
And your last cry
Like the last glass of kool aid
Or the last piece of pie
Pressed and regressed
But moved….To keep moving
And move on….
Strange but familiar
Stories
Of life’s connections
Those that make you strong
Make hearts long
And spirits laugh
And live, and grow
Even more
Unique prose
Mused in beats
Like comfortable seats
That take you nowhere but places you’ve been
Na’mean
And that’s the magic
The music
The rips….
The mood
The mode
The new and the old…
Now, that’s SOUL…
FULL!
Craving
I don’t believe in chance,
Last dances,
Or fat lady’s singing
Or parties ever ending…
They simply change pace or places and locations
And mode
Or so I’m told
By those who believe in love
At first sight
And sex on first nights
And love growing out of lust; unrequited, unfulfilled;
And they must…
They will….
With you
I didn’t believe in safe places
Reserved spaces
In cars, or garages or LIFE
Or place holders
On tables set for those who might arrive
As uninvited guests,
But I guess
You changed all that
For now,
Somehow
I always believed in truth
And the power it has
To bare our souls
And connect us in roles
That we are called to play
In night and day
When no one is watching
Or waiting
Or wishing us well
Along the way
And now, I know
That the things we want
And crave, and need
Most in life,
Come when we are not looking
Or listening, or spend time wanting
Or are even conscious of our unconsciousness
Or voids –
They come,
Invite themselves’ in,
And they stay….
Forever
Or for a day…Forever!
And it keeps you craving…
For more…
CRUSHED!
"CRUSHED"; a state of mind, where behind...it, are endless possibilities, and hugs, and pain weaved into pleasure, like the black and blue threaded flag, that represents the simplicity as well as the complexities, of wants, desires, that outreach our bodies and minds, ahhh, and sometimes our hearts; animalistic, but sane, a dance; of bodies and mind, but to new beats, a release; a peace.....that matters; a molecule of connections, this thing, those damn things; a matter; that matters...and could; even should; matter! - handle me, handle you, handle us, just handle IT, please…oh….and “CARE” is ALWAYS….and should always….be understood!
Here
I’ve claimed
A little piece of your heart
As my own
Not in arrogance
Or rushed anguish
Not even in deliberate lust
That I trust
Rises far above the surface
Many times…
And that’s fine,
Don’t mind…
Because I know
It is so…
My soul knows it is “here”
And I’ve claimed a little piece of time
In my crazy life
Today
To say
These words
“Bare” and true…
To you…
Oh, “I’m here!”
Warm and honest
In ways we weren’t conditioned to be
Undefined by relationships of monogamy
Unrestricted in process
Unrestrained in templates
Or microwave solutions
No special powers
Or insights
No jealous chemistry
Or frights
But Day love and care
Warm nights
In context
And “Bare”
Just here
Even when “here” hasn’t come
Or may never
Except in my wakened dreams
And strained jeans
Or like the baby’s bottoms
The fielded cotton
400 thread sheets
Broom jumps
And non-discreet
Trips overseas
And bagels and brie
Honey and tea
Sunday breakfast for three
And writing nakedLY
And rides in the sun
And leather fun
And kaleb; a rott
And wax candles sooo hot
And ALL of this
Or none of this
Or some of this
“Here.”
Now, today, someday….or never…
But I’m here
Very near
…for now…FOREVER?
Comfort
Never been so comfortable
In the presence
And the quietness
Of spoken, and often unspoken
Words
In the rhythm of voice
The gesture of large hands
Or the truth of convictions
Unrehearsed
And unplanned
And the certain but uncertainness of articulation
Of US
Of You
Of me
And the kindred explorations
Of vast potentialities
…I have never been so comfortable
In being with
And without
Sitting close
But not too
Hugging long and hard
Knowing that the hug
Like that moment of time
Might not remain
Long
Or return as strong
But simply could;
Simply because
I willed it to
Wanted it to
Needed it to
Or even cried out for it to…
Comfortable in my expressions
Of being uncomfortably
Connected
On so many continuums
With so many untouched
Parts
Of hearts
And loins;
A comfort beyond trust
And lust
And even more comfort
Found
In knowing
And showing
That LOVE
Is abound
And around
And beyond
This moment
This time
This place
This room where only you sleep
And dream
In addictive, Unrestricted
Love
And Existence;
In a COMFORT
Alone
BUT NOT REALLY…
Not ever, yet, comfortably!
Can’t sleep
And it’s so deep
Cause I’m tired;
Worn out by a kid-like anticipation
But the affirmation of an old spirit
Knowing that you are there
And I am here
In this same universe
On the same plane
Same sanity
And nurturing plateau
But I know
That you are THERE
And I am THERE too
Can’t concentrate
Or wait
As patiently as maybe I should
In brotherhood
Not servitude
To lustful locks
Anticipated…
Yet, created
Of genuine care
Dared by rare
Connections
On southern train tracks
Moving strongly forward
Unboundedly
In directions
Called fate
Can’t get through a day
Or hour
Or moment
When vast potentialities
Don’t flow
And run
Like the slobbered pillow
That I know
In my wakened thoughts
Is not really you
Can’t write another stanza
Or line
Until I find;
The strength
The power
The reserve
That IT deserves
To beat off this desire
And dire
Need
To call,
And yet to say…
NOTHING,
BUT
I’m here
And there
However comforting
And maybe not so comforting
That may be…
Right now.
Those words
Those damn words,
And hooks and flow
That soul-full song
Of this man
That writes words
That speaks to my heart…
Saying nothing
But everything,
LOUDLY!
Flow
And the flow is back
Like fountains run
In days of sun
That seems to never end
But then begins, again
Like Big-Mac attacks
Attacks…
Like sin,
With paper and pen
That question where you’ve been
And are going
And who you are
And want to be
Write now
Flows like butter
And caramel
Heated up
Ready to flow
From beneath
And below
The surface of beats
Too loud
Too hard;
Unique,
Beats
That tunnel
And capture
And sometimes hide
Rhythms and flows
From those spaces
And places
Scared to go
Alone.
I know