[In Keeping Cautious Love] a poem

In love,
this one particular,
the grasses lean as pushed by a unvarying
drift of wind, below four lights from
every corner of the earth above the
mirrored sea-

-it is of nobody else's affair,
the informal nettle, nestled
a-slight enough to skepticize
other lives you've have yet to
trust with no regard-

-and for crying,
even the whimper you keep for yourself,
sighs selfishly dictated by learned restraint,
undoubted caution, inasmuch the weak,
so abundant, so abound, is the
consistent focal of cannibals,
devout to the savage belief,
to devour anothers' flesh may/can
be the answer to continuum,
till such time the fountain of youth
prevails in pharmacology



Dontrell Lovet't
from, [Just a Body]

[Askew Evolution] a poem

How funny it is,
how easily us men can come to
accept our imperfections;
a woman,
she'll fight those imperfections,
if not for her own volition to overcome
it in self-improvement, to grapple
with the competing next woman-


-the how funny, too, it is,
that beauty attracts to preserve the species,
denoting the man's instinct to be noticed,
the woman's need only to be detected


-too, do we humans evolve,
not towards the growing obligation
for man to court, rather towards the
woman's essential need to persuade
the court,
if indeed, in today's effete reality,
man has lost his instinct to compete,
that necessity to court,
lies await, in contra,
until the woman persuades his
rise-



Dontrell Lovet't
from, [Just a Body]

[The Entanglement] a poem

I can live off your smile;

 everything of death, departure and loss subsides with the very sight-

-send your hands astray across my body,

 deep-throat my shaft until my mushroom-head tickles your tonsils,

revolve around the tip as the moon does this great planet-

-sex is the connect that disconnects us from

 the daze of being hostages to this world;

If we are to be captive, let us be captive in the

mist of our entangled beings, lost forever to this primitive

form of coexistence,

that is sex-

Dontrell Lovet't
-from [Labial Laughs]

[American Studies] on Gordon Parks [American Gothic]

            The study of the African-American and the study of America are one in the same; a people struggling to make a home in a hostile condition made hostile by their very angst.

            If a people are rendered invisible, it is a twofold-fault; the oppressor wielding intolerance and the oppressed for allowing what is being wielded to continuously hit target at will. The oppressor knows how to oppress, as once upon at time, they were the oppressed and possess the memory and methodology of how their dethroned oppressors were so effective until their sackings; the oppressed knows only the blindness that comes from the swollen, blackening eyes were clouts cease to land, because the oppressed knows from their former oppressors the mistakes those oppressors made which allowed them to break free; they allowed them to see, to gather and obtain visions, they allowed them to dream.

            History never repeats itself, every event in history, whilst having all the seemings of similarities, are bred by different circumstances and different events. A woman holds a broom in one hand and a mop in the other, a background of the American Flag. Her black skin represents the oppressed, one of the few of the American lands, her gender implies she must also mind men of all races, lest she fall victim to an opposing gender only content with her subjugation, the mop and broom, cleaning tools, are the tools used to sweep injustice under the rug of an American Ideal gone awry, which we see in the background, fifty stars, fifty states, fifty separate tales of horror and heinous forging of an American Empire.

Dontrell Lovet't