Wednesday, October 22, 2014

H-town Knockin the boots

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

My Perfect

My Perfect     by Deprina Godboldo

His hair grows straight out of his scalp unlike his peers; a brush can’t tame these tresses,
His mother said it’s been like that for years; his nationality takes about two guesses.

Cheeks plump like apples picked fresh out of an orchard, his lashes replicate extended crescents,
 His huge eyes stare leaving the soul tortured, but his smile is never forgotten like perfect presents.

His neck rooted to his collarbone an Oak tree in the ground; his beard outlines his face like an artist’s first sketch
The chin is dented and round, to compare him to a beast would be far fetched

His broad shoulders are like a super hero’s posed before a fight, his chest is shining armor a remarkable display,
A thimble was used to create his torso just right, with a belly button molded out of clay.

The legs on this man are defined muscle; clothing was created just for his body type.
His workout must be a consistent hustle, God created him as the male prototype.

Feet soft like untouched cotton, scrubbed daily by beach sand.
His feet are not spoiled rotten, with toes that are not like any other man’s.

I can only wonder if his traits will pass on to my offspring; His genetic material is a combination of my obsession,
On his left hand he also wears an engraved ring, I must keep this to myself - it is my indiscretion

Toasted almond skin and he hasn’t aged, left with scars from youth but still no cracks
His persona is straight out of a book but not staged, He is my perfect and there is nothing he lacks.


For FUN by Deprina


For FUN

They only see fun. In reality, it’s serious.

It’s raining and snowing at the same time, thundering and lighting in the middle of December.

The sparrow no longer sits on the branch because it’s replaced by crystalized water that has lost its’ battle with the cold.

Perfect day for movies and hot soup that is how she was raised. Today that won’t happen

A lost of power is a disaster for her parents, but it means scary stories in the front room

The whole day is not wasted; they can do what they want- She loves a snow day

The game begins, she hides and he seeks. In the middle of the day it’s dark as a cave with no exit.

The News is on but she can’t watch it, nothing in the house works but she is entertained

She builds a snowman, which later becomes the home for her favorite snacks.

Snow angels destroyed to keep the milk cold.

Making mini snow mounds was the name of the game. She new the power wouldn’t be back on until the morning but to them it was fun.

Like a plum, her cheeks became plump and shinny from the cold, it’s getting late and all she can remember is this was the best day and they had so much fun.


 this poem is a remembrance of my childhood growing up in Detroit and having snow days in the middle of the week. 

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Left Alone: Personification Poem Can you Guess what the Item is

Left alone

I used to be apart of a crowd, around others that were just like me

On this day I was lifted high above my peers and tossed from one man’s hand to another.

I was cool before, I was comfortable and now I sweat slowly becoming empty.

You tore me to pieces like a dog, hungry for food stuck in a paper bag

I guess I should be thankful because you didn’t toss me in the trash like the apple

Her seeds exposed and stripped to the core

I was abandoned, like a plant on the window seal

I watch as people walk pass.

You only took what you wanted; you even lost my top, and removed my skin

I stay here holding on to the table for dear life hoping not to endure the same fate as the 

Piece of fruit you shared with me before.

It has been 1 hour and the end is near- was no longer alone but now I am wasted

I see you apple, I see you sandwich and see you peel. I am not longer with others that are


just like me but with other that have been used before I. At least this time I can’t be bought.

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Just wait For it

From 90 to 70 the temperature drops and the lights are lost.

Sound no longer bounces but echoes when there isn’t anyone around but you.

A cool breeze crawls across your back like a spider.

The tables become slippery as a slug and the moisture has left the air

The moon quickly replaces the sun, and clouds are no longer white but grey like smoke from a factory.

Bugs, debris and leaves have replaced the people, and they’ll disappear by the morning.

The trees are tall but not over powering the buildings around them.

They blend in with the malls’ d├ęcor like the organ in a cathedral.

More cars disappear, more people disappear and it’s only you sitting there.

The wind is still now, the parking lots are clear now and everyone has gone home now.

Seclusion is to be in sheltered or in a private place. Does it sound like I’m alone?

Wait, complete silence happened at 12:32am at the mall, It can happen

Just wait for it!!



This is my First poem to be posted in my Creative writing class.


Thursday, August 28, 2014

THE CLAIM TO FAME

THE CLAIM TO FAME


Playing the field day in day out, running game with a smile is what you’re about. 
You know she wants you, at least that’s what you thought. It’s those shoes, that watch, and that car you bought.
Guys know better than to mistake you for a lame, because it only takes you two seconds to grab and aim. 
Feeling as good as you look every day, “That’s my man”, is what girls wish they could say.
Looks like you got all the answers and the best advice.
Yeah, we all know you can act like you’re nice. 
Just let me end this while you stay the same, because most of these details are your claim to fame.


I wrote the above poem when I was 19 or 2o years old Living in Detroit, dating a dope dealer and working at the Detroit historical museum.

It's Crazy how I went from dating boys with AK's to Men with 401k's, Guys who the cops like to give the third degree to a gentleman with a master's Degree. Fuck the guy that bought me cars and promised me a ring, I got the bling and ended up with a real King. 

Monday, July 14, 2014

Crank the Model

do I look better from this view?

umm so this is WIFI..

ggrrrr I see you  looking 

my face fits perfectly !!

Yaas Im a creepier

Long day stretch!! 

Crank-Star the Album cover 

Kiss me woman!!

Oh you again

Saturday cooling 

home from work already.??

Morning conversations

Yes, She loves me.. For me. 

do we have to ..??

Our afternoon chill out spot 
I just got off Cat work.. let me rest!