-


I met a seductress

One day when I was new to the city of Harlem and to the life of the night, I met her. A silhouette moved like painting coming to life from the walls and I saw her almost naked when she stood in the light. I met a seductress. She was ugly, but how sweet her ugliness was. She looked me up and down then batted her eyelids and my heart dropped into my knees. She breathed on my neck and whispered into my ears and oh, blood rushed down to my loins. This woman was a witch, and she had in her hands the souls of men, lost souls of lost men. She was the men’s best dream and their wives worst nightmare. She pulled me into her abode and I, oh the ram on heat slid in with her grasp. Her home was a mess, a resting place for overfed cockroaches and a buzzing ground for the over-indulged flies. The fire in my loins traveled to my toes and my hunger for her turned to distaste. This woman with a sweet tongue knows how to rid men of their money but cannot wipe germs off her plate. This seductress washed and oiled her lips but her heart, oh so full of uncultivated vines and poison ivy, snakes and scorpions. I met a seductress and her words like sweet oil anointed my veins and sent shock waves all through my nerves. She had in her the gift of gab and the power to convince, but then again, how many men does she call in every day? What to her constitutes a good day? How many marriages does she remorselessly break? This woman trips up men and sets off women. This woman with a sweet tongue chooses not the lame or the lepers. She neglects not the short or the tall. She calls them all in and gives them a taste at the honey pot. Who was she to be this disloyal? Who was she to play such games on people? But then again, who was I? Who was I to judge the woman I just met? We were both runners, for while she was chasing after my money, I was chasing after her legs. There she was fending for herself and cashing in on my greed, emptying my pockets while I salivated. She was the sinner in this case but I was the sin. She was doing wrong but I was the consequence. I met a seductress and she told me that fires can be quelled when firewood ran out but the cold would never leave, would always be waiting at the corners, and that when the light went out, the night would always walk in.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

-
If we must die If we must die, let it not be like cows in the slaughter, walking willingly into the bloodbaths, too meek to resist and too trusting to argue. Let us die like buffaloes in a lion chase or ants in a midday march. Let us die like termites in search of freedom in a hostile world. If we must die, let it not be like birds caught in storm or a deer by a hunter’s spear. Let it not be like foxes caught in traps or flies landing on fire. If we must die, let our death not be told to those with faint hearts and loud wails. Let it not be known by those women who know not to keep their mouth shut. Let it not be told to those frail and on the brink lest they tilt over. If we must die, let the news be hushed and kept silent. Let everyone be told that we refused to be vanquished, that the flame refused to be extinguished. Let them be told that it is not graves but a mound full of seeds and flowers. Lord, if we must die, let us waft out into your presence like sacred incense. Send a ch...
Read more
-
Where did you go? I am a walking carcass hoping for a wind strong enough to carry me away, a rain harsh enough to dissolve me into a lump of soil. If I could erase all these memories and go back to the days before I met you, I would. But how sad that I roll in torture during the night and burn during the day. Tell me, old friend, you who made me feel special and important, where did the wind take you? Should I cry for time that conspired against us or should I let you shoulder the burden? I have been reduced into a mess of tears and regret. I have lost my trust and my confidence, come to me, you who gave me strength and take me with you. Tell me I was dreaming and tuck me back to sleep. Smother me with the pillow so I will not wake from this, for what is life, when she that I adored and loved in equal measure walked out on me? Look at me now as I wade knee deep in mud and slime, look at me as I stretch my hands to take you back but oh how far away you are. Come messiah, before...
Read more
-
I see in the news everyday children in tattered clothes walking the streets of Somalia, Burundi and even South Sudan. They look at cameras with their yellow jaundiced eyes, all a picture of pain, hunger and sorrow. And yet we choose either not to care or ignore their plea. Fat men and fat women sit on their tables heaped with food they don’t even eat with the television to keep them company yet, back in those countries, men lay dead in the fields, women walk around forlorn and forsaken. We see a child running up and down screaming and crying looking for their parents among a pile of bodies. We just sigh and change the station, and that is just about it. I see men with mucus in their noses and shuffling with sticks due to their amputated legs, their eyes etched into the distance, hope a very foreign word for them. We claim that Africa is held together by bonds of brotherhood. Which brotherhood or Africa for that matter are we talking about? I see a continent operating on whims of...
Read more