my passover

my passover

she wasnt my type
my search was shallow
my soul was surrounded by superficial sexy
something seen
she was serene
secluded
quiet
peaceful
my pursuit was polished
i pressed for passion
and pretended to pendulum
between player and pimp
she wasnt my type
she showed interest
but i ignored her advances
i looked through her
instead of looking to her
i didnt have time
settling down meant that i settled
sold out
forced to watch my life like an inflight movie
she wasnt my type
she was persistent
so i pretended to play every role except punk
and in time
her passionate persistence played out
and we settled on being platonic
years passed and our paths faded
in opposite places
we lost touch and became
only familiar faces
and my superficial search
led me to sacrificial situations
for us it became out of place phone calls
and catch up conversation
and im just wishing she had been more patient
or that her persistence had paid off
or that my procrastination had played out
but instead she became my passover
and now i am standing on the pharcyde
and she keeps on passing me by
because i...
am not her type

recently recited by quiet da artist AKA Paul AKA ME!!! (copyright 2011)

chocolate tears

they kept

falling like rain into her mixing bowl

the same bowl that was passed down from her mother

the same bowl that her grandmother used to celebrate life

and birthdays

and mile stones that meant more to her future than her past

she kept

trying to wipe them away but

every ingredient reminded her

that she

would never be able to do the same

for her this was the end

she would never be able to pass the recipes and dreams and stories that were passed on to her

so

they kept falling

and she kept wiping

as she mixed the 2 cups sugar and 1 3/4 cups flour and 3/4 cups cocoa powder and baking soda and 2 eggs and 1 cup milk and oil and vanilla extract and

tears

they kept falling

and she kept wiping

but she wasnt wiping fast enough

and she wasnt wiping hard enough

and she wasnt wiping long enough

or some one just hadnt told her

that you cant wipe cancer away

yeah

right into that bowl

they kept falling

and she kept crying

(quiet DA artist/copyright 2011)