ANIMATED EXPRESSIONS

Animated Expressions
Shadows passions progressions
A lipsticks confessions
Reads: I love you

Hennessy imbues
Temporary views
Like long strokes and high notes
To sing a quote
Country and folk
To strum a chord
On the banjo for the Lord
“So good” :
A melody for more
Intoxicate
Inebriate

Cognac and sex motivate
To fill the glass with hope
The longer the stroke the higher the note
A paused expression
To switch progressions
A lipstick’s confession reads: “Don’t stop”
Hennessy on the rocks
Sixty ticks on the clock
A Whisper exhaled
A secret entails
Time reveal all tails
The End

Coming Soon

Atlantic City Me

Atlantic City eyes,

Painted in the sky.

The morning sun perched on the edge of the Atlantic City sea,

The ocean’s ebb sings an Atlantic City tune.

Boom, boom, boom—

You dance on my windowpane above the shore.

You silhouette the Atlantic City waters’ flow

And the sun’s morning glow.

Atlantic City Wise

Melt my heart with your Atlantic City disguise.

My chest is opened wide;

To never testify is my Atlantic City style.

Atlantic City lights paint the sky,

The night moon perched on top of the world.

The Atlantic City bay waves in a way

That currents an Atlantic City fragrance.

Boom, boom, boom—

You dance to an Atlantic City tune under my ceiling fan.

You emit a casino’s smell, an Atlantic City scent.

Atlantic City Rich

Fill my hands with seashells and chips

That I can pitch in the Atlantic City ocean.

Make a wish

To be in love, in love with your Atlantic City sage.

Close to the sea,

Under the lights,

You live silver, an Atlantic City life—

A ghetto by the beach.

I’m just a gangsta chasing your Atlantic City wild

Through the Atlantic City streets.

Bet the odds, and I’ll wager life.

I’ll be Atlantic City King,

Atlantic City Queen,

Atlantic City Me

Sunset Serenade

To be or not to be in love with your smile,
I’m digging your freedom, together we’re wild.
Singularly stunning, yet as one, we’re a style,
Our passions erupt, melting boundaries mile after mile.Who am I without you?
Untrue to my soul.
Your divine eyes, colored like sunshine,
Drive me to lose control.I exalt you, my queen, you reign over me.
I’m your king when I’m on top, setting us free.
Our heights together make sentences blur,
But say my name, if your love is sure.To free a dove is endless love,
Turning a thug to a man—a vow above.
I’ll sing my love for you in a tune so deep,
Strumming the chords of your soul’s heartbeat.I’ll drum your rhythm with steady hands,
Whisper your melody in a way that demands:
Sing my name, express your care,
Tell me you can’t breathe without my air.Touch me, tease me, kiss me, please me,
Sometimes I go hard, other times easy.
Rough yet gentle, beyond the physical—it’s mental.Your words, melodic, unlock confessions,
Bringing to life these deep obsessions.
I love you, I love you, I love you.

One In A Million gansta’s never die


Gangstas never die so not would Teena or I. In some remarkable way, we dodged the law and faded off into the sunset.
In the aftermath of our escape, Teena and I found ourselves navigating the world that we loved. An underworld fraught with challenges and full of danger. We were constantly ducking bullets and fleeing the scene of a caper, money bag in our grip.
And the law hated us! They dogged our every move. Most wanted Blaq and Teena.
We raced through the night. Our love burning bright, like fire shooting out of the pipe.
We switched cars like we switched disguise. Constantly. We went from the ’69 Camaro to a sleek black ’69 firebird. We were ahead of the law and all of the others trouble that we caused.
Teena’s red hot steaming presence and my cool calculated demeanor kept us in some shit. We were the perfect duo in this game of cops and robbers, cat and mouse, gangsta and gangstress.
As we raced through the cityscapes and the country’s rural landscapes our bond depend. I held Teena in my arms. My hand was caressing the inside of her thy. And I was staring into her eyes mesmerized by her gangsta’s spirit.
I whispered in her ear “lets dodge the law forever and marry at the end of the sunset.”
She giggled as if she was tickled, “let’s pile the loot up forever.” Said Teena. “Marriage… Ha” She mocked. “Never!”
She twisted my dreads. Her love was so insincere. She loved the way that I cared and the way that fire shot out of my gun.
Me and Teena’s notoriety increased. In the streets the whispers of our exploits echoed deep. The love was steep. Any gangsta would kill a gangsta for the notoriety that came with killing a gangsta. Blaq and Teena were big gangstas.Tommy gun – Bonnie and Clyde shit.
Our modern whip was a stolen spaceship. Hellcat – and I was doing the dashboard. Teena whispered in my ear, make this pussy roar…”
I mashed the gas harder and fire shot out of the pipe. I bust Teena in the stolen Mustang, I sucked her in the hellcat and I made love to her in our hidden home. Teena said, “Lets make some babies and lie low forever.”
I giggled because I was sincerely tickled. I said, “just blow on my dice and raise the stakes.”
Teena giggled I know that she was tickled by the style in which I wore my dreads and by the way that I put it down in the bed. She rolled her eyes and said “the way that you be putting the dick on me is amazing.”
The capers that we pulled off were amazing. We divided the loot in dimly lit hideouts surrounded by guns and stacks of cash. And I still made sure that I gave her a bit more than half because she was my better half.
“Lets roam the world. And let me shower you with luxury linens, diamonds and pearls,” said I.
Teena giggled as if she was tickled. She loved my cleverness and the way that my words flowed.
“I prefer you showering me with guns and diamonds, and the world is ours.”
“Word.”
Our love for the thrill of the chase fueled our passion and each heist was a dance between danger and desire. We planned our next move in the midst of love making. Our love expressed not – in the conventional but through a symphony of gunfire and screeching tires.
What a life – what a life to live on the run from the law, fast car, money racks, tommy gun and a bad broad. I loved Teena for her. I was him. So she loved me for me.
New characters entered our story. Gangstas that wanted our lights dimmed. Only, because Teena and I were them!
Fake allies Tim and Kim turned into real adversaries over night.
An overzealous Kim got hyped over a botched heist. The cops arrived and in a blaze of glory, Teena shit Kim out of a sticky situation. It was Teena’s gun that cleared the way for Kim’s great escape.
Since Kim didn’t get the chance to grab her loot, she decided to breach the contract, and want a portion of our take. Teena and I wanted to spread the love in the form of a portion of our take. But Kim wanted half.
“Ha” Teena laughed in Kim’s face.
Kim pulled her blade. I pulled my Colt M1911 and put it in Kim’s face. Then Tim pulled his .357 Smith & Weston revolver and put it to the back of Teena’s head.
“A Mexican standoff off perhaps “ said Tim.
“Kill her” said Teena.
Now if I killed Kim, Teena would be shot in the head by Tim. By my calculations I still would be able to kill Tim before he turned his gun on me. What a conundrum? Because when the smoke cleared, Teena would be gone. So the Colt, I lowered it. Tim lowered his .357 and Kim sheathed her blade.
“Let cooler heads prevail” said Tim
Kim made the mistake of pulling her blade and not using it.
Now Teena was red-hot. And despite what Tim said, Teena’s temperature didn’t drop. So, for, Teena’s sake I upped the Colt m1911 put it to Tim’s head and popped his top.
And all that Kim could do was watch as me and Teena loaded Tim’s loot in our bag..
“Now live with the decisions that you picked.” Teena said to Kim as we slid off cool.
The underworld is a twisted web and alliances can be as fleeting as the wind. So was the story of Tim and Kim. An unexpected twist turned into an unexpected win. “More money for us,” said Teena. We coasted through the night, it was moments like this that strengthened our outlaw love.
Teena with her cinnamon complexion and her fiery spirit remained my constant. “Lets chase the chaos and run from love,” said Teena.
I giggled because I was tickled. Our understanding of love was unspoken. What we had was beyond words, ours was expressed through gunshots. Pop Pop Pop.
Teena was a steamer. Her dreads were red and I loved when they were wrapped in a bun. Or, even better, when they blew in the wind and swung.
In the moonlit hour, with the scent of gas, gunpowder, burning rubber and adrenalin in the air, Teena and I stole moments of intimacy. Amidst the chaos, we made love in the backseat of stolen cars, or secluded hideouts. Our bond deepened. Proving that even in the darkest corners love could blossom.
We were big wanted. FBI’S top two. Blaq and Teena our togetherness was optimal.
The law zeroed in but we were not ready to surrender. So I mashed the gas and Teena stuck her head out of the window and fired shots at the cops.
Our journey continued the road before us stretching out like an uncertain path. Teena’s laughter echoed in the night. And, as we sped into the unknown, our story of crime, love and adventure carried on. Leaving a trail of dust in our wake.
So
So the saga of Blaq and Teena continued. A tale of two outlaws bound by something deep and gangsta and fueled by the thrill of the chase.
Blaq and Teena…