Productivity and procrastination - Eloquent Pearlfection
The Misplaced Comma - Nelly Vee
The Empty Fridge - Nelly Vee
Situations - Poetically Soulful
Sorry - Anonymous
Poetically Speaking - Akin Chinnery
Free - The Hidden Lovr
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The Art of Petty
She woke up with a smirk, war paint on her lips, Dipped in red hotter than the devil’s own kiss.
Coffee black, heart colder than ice, A woman scorned? Nah—a woman precise.
See, he played the game, thought he had the crown, Juggled two, three—hell, four chicks around.
But baby girl? Oh, she ain’t no fool, She kept receipts like a damn clerk’s tool.
Step one—act dumb, let him dig deep, Make him think he’s a wolf while she plays sheep. “Baby, you tired? You work so hard…”
Meanwhile, she tracking his broke-ass car.
Step two—hit where it hurts, Ain’t no bullets, just well-placed words. Called his boss, voice sweet like honey, “Did you know he’s been stealing money?”
Step three—flip the script, Made sure his whole world started to slip.
Cashed out his savings, changed all the locks, Left his PlayStation in a boiling pot.
Then came the final stroke of her plan, She pulled up smooth with his side chick’s man.
Made sure to whisper, just loud enough, “He ain’t even good, I just hyped him up.”
Now he’s on the curb, hands in his hair, Begging, pleading—“Baby, this ain’t fair!”
But karma’s a bitch, and so is she, A masterpiece in petty poetry.
Tiffany Mariie
"Poetically Speaking"
Poetry is a part of me, like a heart in me, Or artery, it's a journey whereas I enjoy this odyssey.
It's more than words, it's an inner vybe, I enjoy with others within my Tribe. It's what Bob Marley called,"The Natural Mystic", It can be complicated yet simplistic. It all depends on how 1 chooses to express it, However you communicate it shall be the message.
Poetry is in my walk, the way I talk, In my thoughts from St.Thomas to New York, Look what it brought, miracles, hope and magic, I sigh at folks who don't seem to get it nor have it, Because it makes my life just that better, Any storm that comes I can weather, And come out a more humane human be-ing, That's what I think about poetry, Poetically Speaking.
written by Akin Chinnery.
I Owe a Poem
I think I owe the world a poem but I really owe myself cause when I put down my figurative pen that I use to compose a thought I put myself in drought because this is my creative outlet and you can bet that it's not writer's block and it's not that my pen was locked up I just got lazy or hazy and no, I was not smelling any daisies but I miss it when I don't compose it's like I'm not composed because this is my life it is my balance my joy, my passion so I can't let procrastination win I have to write and not only that I have to share because a poem hidden in a mind, in a closet or in a locked book can't inspire anyone so I share my word with you hoping that you will enjoy it
Previously published on Words of Ribbon on July 6, 2013
Situations
I feel like I'm caught in a situation, 'Cause every word from your lips sparks my imagination. The way you speak so smooth yet intoxicating Got my thoughts racing and my pulse escalating.
It's amazing how deep your presence cuts How just one glance can leave me stuck as fuck I picture your hands tracing my skin Fingertips teasing me yet drawing me in.
You just found out you had a secret admirer Did your curiosity set fire?
‘Cause when the time comes, I’d love to take you for a ride Not just through passion, but deep inside my mind.
Can I slide my hand slowly down your spine, Whisper in your ear, baby, it’s time?
Time for new beginnings, no hesitations, Just raw connection with no limitations.
I just want to court you, let the moments last Promise I’ll never short you, not one climax. I’ll cater to your body and let your muscles unwind Ease the tension slowly with time.
And just when you think we’ve reached the end
Trust me the fun begins again.
But don’t get it twisted it’s not just your body I crave, I want to wander the depths of your mental maze
The brilliance you carry, the fire you wield
The way you stand strong yet know how to yield It’s your presence I want to get lost in, Every word you speak feels like home against my skin
I feel like I'm caught in a situation
And I like it. I like you! Can you be my situation?
A Prayer for Becoming
They say these aren’t poems—they’re prayers, and I’m inclined to agree. Each word I write is a journey inward, reteaching my inner child it’s safe to freely speak. Hand in hand with the Most High, I weave my creativity—a divine gift cultivated within me. An ability to string words together, showing clearly they are tethered to my heart, bearing witness to the storms I’ve weathered and the boundless love I now treasure. Doubt and fear no longer belong here. I stand tall in my power, erect and unwavering, no longer neglecting my connection to the Divine Source, clear and pure, an unyielding force, accepting its guidance, direct and sure. I stand firm on the messages I hear— a vision given solely to me, an A & B conversation, so it’s clear why others can’t C. Think your doubts can reach the ethers? Not even possible, when you’re moving like Peter, learning from the lessons before me.
I’m here to pursue my dream, saying to the Universe, “Look, there is no Plan B.”
Can’t, quit, or failure aren’t in my vocabulary. Step by step, one foot in front of the other, I trust fully, knowing one day I’ll bless my daughter. By my side, she stood as I found my way.
When others left, she chose to stay. For that, I’m endlessly grateful— she believes in me, trusts in me, and knows whatever I set my mind to, I’ll achieve. When blessings rain on me, you better believe she’ll be drenched too. This path I walk— it’s a combination of belief, intention, frequency, and trust.
Sometimes, it feels like I’m standing still. But in all actuality?
I’m surrendering to the Most High’s will. This alignment— this flow— it’s where my power grows. Everything I write about? I manifest into my reality. I speak these truths aloud, clearing space so the inner me can find clarity. The memories I’ve sought, the lessons I’ve learned— all woven together, a tapestry of grace, truth, and eternal love.
I am the summer in my own winter, a beacon of light piercing through the darkness of night. I have arrived.
Lotus Reborn
I’ve had to forgive and release energy that kept me stuck
Connected to folks who didn’t give a fuck About me or the well-being of my offspring. It was all part of a plan tho to elevate my frequency. Now here I stand, a product of thriving in consistency, Not allowing the shit thrown to stick to my heart, That would have left scars—see, this set me apart. Little did I know my drive and determination to grow Would be the very thing that kept me on course,
Through all the hell and lack of remorse
From those that said “I love you,” all the while
Offering no support, no life preserver
To help stabilize me from rocky waters or rough terrains. Through it ALL, my trust in the Unseen Realms remained. So I weathered the storms, and when it rained the hardest, I cloaked my tears so no one would notice.
Now I’ve emerged from the mud as the Egyptian lotus, To be seen and treasured as the anomaly I am, Rebirth as Hathor—here I stand.
From water, creations are birthed as part of the divine plan. No more pressure from the geyser, I’ve matured, and I’m so much wiser.
I can read the energy clearly, no matter what you speak to me. No longer bound by old games or roles, I rise untouched while they lose control. Their tricks won’t touch what I’ve set free— I flow with peace, that’s my decree.
Dodging the traps, I stand tall and whole— Guarding my peace, reclaiming my soul.
My peace is mine, I move as I please, Untouched by chaos, grounded in ease. In the stillness of my soul, I hear the divine call, For I am the lotus, rising above it all.
Fears
scared of you
I could not be scared for you yet you can't see you stay roaming on the streets how are you living in life's defeat
you are my son I must repeat
you are my son to home retreat
I often wish you would remain pure and unselfish frank and plain
I cannot help but to sigh and worry scratch my scalp and tell you I'm sorry
I’m sorry that I didn’t hug you
I’m more sorry that I didn’t trust you
I’m so sorry that the bottle’s got you
I’m most sorry cause the drugs have trapped you
you are no longer the son I know our ties grow weaker as your addictions grow
I pray that you’ll come back home I wish that you’ll no longer roam
scared of you I’ll never be scared for you but you won’t see
you are my son your can break this trend you are the one who can bring it to an end
you are my son I must repeat you are my son to home retreat
scared of you I could not be scared for you
yet you can't see you stay roaming on the streets how are you living in life's defeat you are my son I must repeat you are my son to home retreat I often wish you would remain pure and unselfish frank and plain I cannot help but to sigh and worry scratch my scalp and tell you I'm sorry
My pen says the things my voice can't always convey...
She spills my emotions...
Allows space for me
To say all the things That move me...
To anger Or love Or sorrow
Or anything that I can't find the words for in the moment...
So I make a space Where I can give her freedom And I let her speak.
And she tells my heartbreak
My fantasies
My righteous indignation for the injustices of this world.
She cries for me
Sings for me
Stands up on the mountain and shouts for me... In essence, my pen is the truth of me...
Because she says what I cannot... And thru her I am cleansed. Completed Made whole So essentially, My poetry is me... The real me...
The me I was never allowed to be In reality...
Cuz the people around me
Never believed I could be anything... But my pen!? She never doubted me... And she stood for me when everyone else failed me... And because of her I am here today... My poetry Sustains my life... And I'm grateful That she lead me here...
To be in this community of brilliance... And I've found a home here For the essence Of my pen.
Let me tell you ‘bout a woman so cold, Sharper than knives, drippin’ in gold. Smirk like a blade, heels like a dagger, Walk in the room, make grown men stagger.
Her name? Ain’t important just know she’s a force, Runs on revenge, don’t feel no remorse. Got played once, yeah, she took that hit, But cry over a man? Nah, fuck that shit.
See, he thought he was slick, thought he was wise, Whispered sweet lies with snake-ass eyes. Had a whole side chick in the back of his ride, Till wifey pulled up with a bat and a vibe.
Boom. One swing, cracked that glass, Left the whole Benz lookin’ like her past. Red lipstick, no smudge, no stain, Just the devil in her smile, laughin’ through the rain.
Oh, but she ain’t done nah, this just the start, Petty as hell, but damn, it’s an art. Called up his job, said he stole from the safe, Left an anonymous tip with a smirk on her face.
Took all his sneakers, sold ‘em online, Captioned the pics: “Guess he ain’t worth a dime.” Cut up his suits, bleached his jeans, Let the world know she a petty-ass queen.
But wait there’s more, ‘cause why stop now? She hacked his Netflix, changed every account. New passwords? “Cheater 001” Enjoy them ads, boy, the free trial’s done.
Then she hit up his mama, real polite, “Oh, your son? Ain’t home tonight. But check Facebook, ‘cause I just might, Tag you in pics of his brand-new life.”
Man begged, he pleaded, down on his knees, “Baby, I’m sorry, let’s talk, please!” She laughed so hard, it shook her chest, Then blocked his number—leave him stressed.
See, karma’s slow, but she speeds that shit, Don’t do no tears, just doin’ hits. Ain’t no forgiveness, ain’t no regret, She’s the queen of the petty bet you won’t forget.
Tiffany Mariie
A
Different Light
I know what I saw
I saw you with my two eyes
He held out his hands
Like all the others to touch you
To feel you
Your eyes met And when they didn’t connect
Your raised hand
Became a nomad wandering around
In your pockets looking for things That was not there. He is not like you
And so what he is human
A human who needs to be loved and touched
Just like you
Step down from your “pettystal”
Let your feet touch the earth
Feel what it is like to be normal
Oh I see you in a different light now I saw what you did.
Black Heart Healing Recipe
Balsamic Glazed Sweet Ripe Plantains
Prep Time: 2 minutes
Cook Time: 5 minutes
Total Time: 10 minutes
~ Ingredients ~
1 over ripe plantain
1 Tbsp 18 year balsamic (Or any dark balsamic)
1 Tbsp Coconut oil
~ Instructions ~
Wash , peel and slice plantains into 1/4 inch thick rings. Transfer into a bowl and add balsamic vinegar. Stir well and let sit for about 3-5 minutes
Heat cast iron skillet and melt coconut oil. Pan fry plantain on each side for 2 - 3 minutes until the edges of the rings just start to darken. Remove and transfer into serving plates. (Very little coconut oil is used and you probably will not need to drain excess oil on paper towel) Drizzle a little more balsamic over plantains for that extra zing. Enjoy as is or with ice cream flavor of choice
CREATIVE THOUGHTS WHAT DO YOU HAVE FOR ME GOD STEP IN AND LEAD THE WAY I’M ALWAYS BALANCING SO MANY THINGS HELP GUIDE ME WITH WHAT TO SAY THE DEADLINES DON’T CHANGE BUT MY SCHEDULE DOES EVERY TIME IT’S THE SAME ISSUE PREPPING FOR ISSUES WHEN WILL I BUDGE
I KNOW I CAN MAKE THINGS HAPPEN BUT THAT DOESN’T MAKE IT GOOD THE CONSTANT JUGGLE GAME THAT’S SOMEHOW UNDERSTOOD
SOMETIMES I WEAR MYSELF THIN WHEN IT’S TIME TO CREATE I’M IN SO MANY PLACES SOMETIMES I’M FORCED TO PROCRASTINATE
I’M LEARNING AS I GO AND TRYING TO GET BETTER I REMOVE THINGS FROM MY SCHEDULE THEN HERE COMES SOMETHING BETTER
I STRUGGLE WITH BEING STILL AND SOMETIMES GETTING REST I HATE THAT I PROCRASTINATE BUT SOMETIMES I FEEL THE PRESSURE PRODUCES MY BEST
COPYRIGHT 2025 ELOQUENT PEARLFECTION
IT’S CRAZY TO EXPECT MORE WHEN YOU'RE UNGRATEFUL FOR WHAT YOU HAVE EXPECT PEOPLE TO CLAP BUT WHEN IT’S THEIR TURN YOU LAUGH STARING INTO THE NEXT LANE BUT CONFUSED WHEN YOU CRASH FEELING ENTITLED WANTING OTHERS TO GIVE THEIR LAST PETTY
THIS WORLD WE LIVE IN GETS REALLY CRAZY GO AFTER WHAT YOU WANT INSTEAD OF BEING LAZY
I’VE OUTGROWN CERTAIN MINDSETS AND CERTAIN PEOPLE TOO I NEED DETERMINATION, DRIVE, AND GOALS WITHIN MY CREW
STAGNANT
IN THE SAME SPOT BUT CLAIM TO BE TREATED UNFAIR SAY EVERYBODY GETS HANDOUTS YET SO MUCH THEY HAD TO BARE
YOU VIEW THE GLASS HALF EMPTY EVERY SINGLE DAY THINGS ARE ONLY PETTY WHEN YOU DON’T GET YOUR WAY
COPYRIGHT 2025 ELOQUENT PEARLFECTION
THE MISPLACED COMMA
PETTY THOUGHTS CREEP IN WHERE LOGIC SHOULD REIGN.
A SINGLE COMMA, SLIGHTLY OFF, TAUNTS THE MIND LIKE A STUBBORN ITCH.
IT’S BARELY NOTICEABLE TO MOST, BUT TO ME, IT’S A FLAW SCREAMING FOR CORRECTION.
MAYBE IT’S THE WRITER IN ME, THE ONE WHO AGONIZES OVER EVERY MISPLACED MARK, KNOWING THAT EVEN THE SMALLEST MISTAKE CAN SHIFT MEANING.
I’VE SPENT YEARS REFINING MY CRAFT, MAKING SURE EACH WORD, EACH PAUSE, LANDS EXACTLY WHERE IT SHOULD.
AND YET, HERE I AM, WAGING WAR WITH PUNCTUATION, KNOWING FULL WELL THE BATTLE IS ABSURD.
BUT TELL THAT TO THE PERFECTIONIST IN ME—THE ONE WHO REFUSES TO LET A MISPLACED COMMA SLIDE.
A FRIDGE, EMPTY OF MILK BUT FULL OF SILENT ACCUSATIONS. THE LAST CARTON IS GONE, AND A NOTE STARES BACK AT ME: YOU DRANK IT, WHY? NO CONFRONTATION, JUST PASSIVE JUDGMENT SCRIBBLED IN INK. IT REMINDS ME OF THOSE PETTY MOMENTS IN THE HOUSEHOLD, THE LITTLE UNSPOKEN RIVALRIES THAT BUILD OVER TIME. GROWING UP IN A BIG FAMILY, I LEARNED THAT SMALL THINGS—WHO ATE THE LAST SNACK, WHO LEFT THE LIGHTS ON—COULD FUEL ENTIRE FEUDS. EVEN NOW, AS A FATHER, I SEE IT PLAY OUT IN MY OWN HOME. A MISSING CARTON OF MILK ISN’T JUST ABOUT THE MILK; IT’S ABOUT RESPECT, ABOUT THE UNSPOKEN RULES OF SHARED SPACE. AND SOMEHOW, A MINOR THING LIKE THIS BECOMES THE BATTLEFIELD FOR SOMETHING MUCH BIGGER.
THE UNRETURNED PEN
A MISSING PEN, BORROWED IN PASSING, NEVER RETURNED. I’LL BRING IT BACK TOMORROW, THEY SAID. BUT TOMORROW CAME AND WENT, AND THE PEN IS STILL GONE.
IT’S NOT ABOUT THE PEN ANYMORE—IT’S ABOUT THE PRINCIPLE, THE QUIET DISRESPECT WRAPPED IN SOMETHING SO SMALL.
I’VE HAD MY FAIR SHARE OF PEOPLE TAKING WITHOUT GIVING BACK, PROMISES MADE AND FORGOTTEN, SMALL BETRAYALS STACKING UP OVER TIME. WHETHER IN BUSINESS, FRIENDSHIPS, OR FAMILY, I’VE SEEN HOW SOMETHING AS SIMPLE AS A MISSING PEN CAN SYMBOLIZE SOMETHING DEEPER: CARELESSNESS, DISREGARD, OR JUST PLAIN FORGETFULNESS.
MAYBE IT’S PETTY TO CARE SO MUCH. BUT I’VE LEARNED THAT THE LITTLE THINGS OFTEN REVEAL THE MOST ABOUT PEOPLE. AND IN THE END, IT’S NEVER JUST ABOUT THE PEN.
OH GREAT GADGET IN MY HOME HOW MUCH TIME HAVE WE SPENT ALONE? SITTING HERE INSIDE MY WALLS STARING BLANKLY, MISSING CALLS.
ALL BECAUSE YOU'RE SHOWING ME THINGS MY EYES DON'T NEED TO SEE. REALITY SHOWS, WITH NOTHING REAL, AND THINGS TO INCREASE MY SEX APPEAL.
ONE SIDED NEWS THAT MAKES US THINK WE'VE BEEN INFORMED, WE'RE IN THE LINK... AND ALL THE RICHES WE COULD GAIN IF WE JUST PAY OUT AND PLAY THE GAME.
OR THE LANGUAGE SKILLS WE COULD REFINE IF WE JUST BUY YOUR PROGRAM FOR $9.99. AND EVEN OUR DECOR IS SLAVE TO YOU, THE BEST CHAIR IS PLACED SO TO HAVE THE BEST VIEW.
I UNDERSTAND MORE EVERYDAY AS I WATCH WHY YOU'VE BEEN REFERRED TO AS 'IDIOT BOX" YOU DRAW US IN EASY, WITH IMAGES PLUSH, SLOWLY ROTTING OUR BRAINS INTO SOMETHING LIKE MUSH.
SO YES, EVEN THOUGH I LOVE TO DESIGN YOU, I CANNOT AFFORD TO BE DEFINED BY YOU. SO I'VE MADE A DECISION THAT'S A BIT UNCONVENTIONAL... AND BELIEVE WHEN I SAY THIS IS NOT UNINTENTIONAL...
WITHIN MY NEXT HOME YOU WILL NOT HAVE THE HONOR OF BEING THE CENTER OF EVERYDAY, NADA!
I'M BANISHING YOU TO A PLACE THAT IS NOT AT THE MIDDLE OF EVERY IDEA AND THOUGHT.
YOU'LL BE SOMEWHERE, JUST NOT IN A PROMINENT PLACE WHERE NO ONE NEED ALWAYS TO STARE AT YOUR FACE. SO WHEN FOLKS COME TO VISIT DON'T THINK IT STRANGE THAT MY OWN LITTLE WORLD HAS BEEN REARRANGED.
CUZ HAVE YOU EVER NOTICED ON YOUR FAVORITE SHOWS, THOSE BEAUTIFUL ROOMS HAVE NO TV'S TO SHOW? THEY SET THE DECOR SO IT SEEMS THAT YOUR VIEW IS LOOKING AT THEM WHEN THEY'RE LOOKING AT YOU.
THE CAMERA ANGLES LOOK IN AT THE SCENE FROM THE SPOT WHERE THE TV WOULD SIT TO BE SEEN. SO NEXT TIME YOU'RE SPLAYED OUT HALF DRESSED, FEELING FREE... THINK TO YOURSELF, 'ARE THEY WATCHING ME?'
THEN REALIZE HOW MUCH OF YOUR LIFE YOU'D BE GETTING IF YOU STOPPED WATCHING NIKKI AND VICTOR'S TWELFTH WEDDING. OR MAYBE YOU COULD BE JUST GETTING SOME NOOKIE, INSTEAD, YOU JUST WATCH IT WITH LUCIUS AND COOKIE.
I NEVER MEANT TO BREAK YOUR HEART YET WITH EVERY I LOVE HER IT SEEMED TO TEAR YOU APART AND FOR THAT I AM SORRY
BECAUSE THOSE WORDS THAT I SPEAK DON'T SEEM TO HAVE THE SAME MEANING ANYMORE DO I LOVE HER YES BUT WHEN MY HEART BLED YOUR NAME I FELT BLESSED TO EVEN BREATHE THE SAME AIR AS YOU
WHEN I LOOKED INTO YOUR EYES I FELT SAFE FROM HARM NOW WHEN I LOOK INTO HERS I FEEL KARMA STARING ME DOWN UNTIL I BOW AT ITS FEET DON'T GET ME WRONG I'M A GREAT PARTNER NOW BUT I WASN'T ALWAYS THIS WAY BACK IN THE DAY I HAD NO CONCERNS DID WHAT I WANTED WITH WHO I WANTED AND NOW I REAP THE BENEFITS OF DATING THE OLD VERSION OF ME LATELY DAY AFTER DAY ALL I'VE WANTED WAS YOU WANTING TO HOLD YOU KISS YOU VIBE WITH JUST YOU AND NOW THE ONE PERSON I WANT DOESNT FEEL SAFE IN MY ARMS
I'VE DONE TO MUCH HARM TO YOU AND I'M SORRY
I'M SORRY FOR NOT BEING YOUR SUPERMAN IN YOUR TIME OF NEED I'M SORRY FOR CAUSEING YOU TO FEEL UNWANTED WHEN IT'S YOU I NEED
I'M SORRY FOR MAKING YOU FEEL LIKE A SECOND OPTION
I'M SORRY IF I EVER MADE YOU FEEL LESS CONFIDENT
I LOVE THE HELL OUT OF YOU AND NO ONE CAN EVER CHANGE THAT NO MATTER WHO I LOVE MY HEART WILL ALWAYS SCREAM FOR YOU AND THAT'S MY TRUTH
I KNOW THERE'S NOT MUCH I CAN SAY TO FIX THE WAY YOU FEEL BUT I FIGURED IF I WROTE A FEW THINGS DOWN IT'LL AT LEAST HELP ME HEAL I SHED TEARS FOR YOU AND I PRAY FOR YOU I DREAM TO LAY WITH YOU AND I SMILE FOR YOU
I'LL DIE FOR YOU IF IT MEANS YOU'LL STAY SAFE
I'LL DIE FOR YOU IF IT MEANS IN ANOTHER WORLD I'LL GET TO LOVE YOU AGAIN YOU ARE SO AMAZING AND I JUST WISH YOU WOULD BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY I TRULY DO WISH I COULD CALL YOU MY LADY BUT THE CIRCUMSTANCES NOW PREVENT THAT AND FOR THAT I AM SORRY.
