She's Ready For You Boy

Her guard is up. She's ready to sock you boy
Her door is shut. She's ready to block you boy


A translucent color reflects your skin
Don't try to hide what your coverin'


A fabrication told so well
Your balance lost and down you fell

Her guard is up. She's ready to block you boy

Her door is shut. She's ready to sock you boy

A directive act of dominance
An overwhelming confidence


But speculations put to rest
A shallow heart. She should have guessed

Her guard is up. She's ready to block you boy

Her door is shut. She's ready to sock you boy

It's easy to believe a lie

But hard to uncover the reasons why

Her heart knew better than to reason

With dissimulators guilty of treason

Your chances are up. She's ready to trump you boy

Your mouth is left shut. She's ready to dump you boy

It's Never Too Early or Too Late to Wake Up to Something Great

Only in dreams do I feel at peace. A simple sense of realization made so clear and refined. A fantasy in which each wrong turned to right. Each forgotten thought remembered. A time where yesterday was great but tomorrow will be even greater. Yes, only in my slumber am I free behind these shut eyes. Free of mind, body and soul. But every dream shall be awakened. . .

The booming screams of high pitched beeps, continuously repeating one after the other echoed through my room. My moment of serenity came to an abrupt end as each beep became more clear and defined. My hands grasped the top of my head, easing slight pressure onto my temples in hopes to relieve the start of a headache about to creep its way in.

Just for the record, I am not a morning person. You won't catch me up at the crack of dawn, well rested and ready to start the day with a happy ass grin on my face. It's as if these early risers thrive on each extra hour they lose on sleep. Myself on the other hand, takes full advantage of all the minutes that make up each extra hour of sleep I can get away with. But yet, I'm never fully satisfied with the amount acquired. And a smile is anything but my first emotional impulse after being zonked out for hours. It's more like a confused cave woman to whom suffers from sensitivity to light and sound.

I rose slowly, as if asleep the past daylight hours in this coffin-like bed with a hunger for blood. Or maybe just a very large, very strong cup of coffee. I stumbled towards the still blaring alarm clock to silence the damn thing. Staring at the time long enough to realize I might have been a little too slow in getting up, having to give this one to the early birds who have punctuality on their side.

I made my way across the hall and straight to the kitchen to feed this hungry beast, my growling stomach.  As I grab for the handle to the refrigerator, hoping that maybe a secret shopper stopped in for a visit late last night. Having secretly stocked the fridge with delicious breakfast delights. Each one just waiting to be devoured, only to find expired milk and a bag of tortillas to be the only contents inside.

I am now in a desperate search for any form of energy to rejuvenate my sleepwalking body. My frantic search comes to a satisfying end as I discover the big red tub with the black lid. Though turned around with it's label hidden, I knew. . .and began to sing out loud, and to all those early risers....The best part of waking up really is Folgers in your cup.