One Month of You

One Month of You
© N Noël Aug 2010


I still smell coffee brewing in the morning
Scents of you mixed in the sheets
Hard pressed against my back
Dawn is almost here
Our time is what I lack

Strong hands caressing my body
Pulling me in close
Tracing my essence with gentle finger tips
Small kisses so tender
Like butterflies of Spring
I still smell coffee brewing in the morning
And the silence of our skin

Hands encircling my waist line
Moving slowly down
Addressing all that’s in me
With authority and grace
Slowly, quickly all in that warm space
Nothing taken for granted or forgotten in this time
I still smell coffee brewing in the morning
You constantly cloud my mind

Daybreak rolls upon us
The magic soon gone
Sunshine ends our time of oneness
Like leaves on the ground in Fall
Shallow kisses of reality shower me down
I still smell coffee brewing in the morning
The one thing you left me
In my one month with you

The Color
© N Noël Aug 2010


Purple, Red, Brown and Green,
The color of skin some demean
You are your skin deep and ingrained
The Color of America is most times inhumane
Do you see others for who they are?
Has that day and time gone so far?
Do you see the person inside that shell?
Does the color of my skin make hatred swell?

Orange, Grey, White and Black
The rainbow has no chance
Neither does the “wetback”
Is Pink or Salmon what you prefer?
Does color make jobs and common sense
Crawl underground
The color of Human can’t be brown
Ink, Blue, Sapphire and Jade
Spitting on my pride and calling me a Spade

Beige, Yellow, Silver and Gold
Wrestling with society’s color aches my soul
Human value sold along the way
With slave ships, borders and red tape tying hands
Freedom only bought with change purses full of blame
Color judgment hurts, degrades, brings tears of pain
No one knows the scars until you wear this skin
The Color of America can make your spirit feel like Sin

Defeated, Broken, splitting in shame
The Color of America constant and negative
Running through my veins
Burgundy, Acid, Tie Die, rippled with color
America the melting pot so we think
Color is leaving us bankrupt
A sinking ship on the brink
Grey, Ash, Iridescent and Pearl
America’s Color skin deep
An example to the world

In the Morning

In the Morning
© N Noël Aug 2010


In the morning when I rise
I thank God for my thighs
Heavy laden at times
But keeps me moving when I rise

In the morning when I rise
I thank him for my life
For the incidentals and strife
Let’s me know I am alive
Gets me through makes me thrive

In the morning when I rise
Quiet space, breathing life
All the past struggles gone
Like forgotten prickly thorns
In the morning when I rise
Life is a gift a new surprise

Brand new day I’ve been given
No time to keep gifts and talent hidden
The heart skips a new beat
Full of possibilities, hopes and dreams
In the morning when I rise
No time to waste on old hurts
And nighttime cries

In the morning when I rise
Feel the strength of my thighs
Keeps me moving along this new day
Morning prayers take the worry away

In the morning when I rise
Claiming victory I shout to the sky
My heart shining, not giving it all away
Renewed joy to start this day

In the morning when I rise
I greet this day with a smile
I thank God for my brand new day
Keep my faith all along the way
No doors will darken my spirit
Because I’m still here, I’ve made it
In the morning when I rise
I accept my life, this wonderful surprise