Lyrics, poetry and art all meshed together

Monday, July 31, 2006


I thought I felt it
The heartbeat of a rainbow
After a lover’s duet
The flattering of whispers grin
Mixed with an organza of caress
Thrown by a cool air after a summer’s thunderstorm

I thought my soul reached midnight’s love on foot
With sweat-soaked offerings

I thought I fell into a comatic lust where his name
Is repeated like a favorite continent

I must have been struck by lightning
For I held on to the sheets with an arched back attached to his pulse
Sucking away his sunrise with satisfaction guaranteed
The taste of sherbert on swollen nipples

He pats me on the ass while I nod like a horse in tears
Ending a race filled with petals inside my nostrils

His grin is peppered with semen
Throbbing drums behind an angelic chorus
When he ventures aimlessly with plows
He growls like Africa’s sweet water
Then silence filters
Our breath dimmers lightly
Until he paraphrases oneness with a hump
© 2006 by Cathy Delaleu

Hello Everyone,

Hope you all had a great weekend. The heat in NY is to die for, literally. I stayed in most of the weekend except for Saturday. First let me give you an update, i'm sure you're dieing to know what happened. Friday I had nowhere to go, my apartment had brand new tiles and the landlady called me saying the floors still weren't dry, so I couldn't spend the night or move any furnitures around until Saturday. Since my cousin was making a big deal about me staying another night in the apartment she shares with my brother, a friend's sister offered me her place to crash. Gladys lives in a 2 bedroom appartment with her 13 year old daughter, she made me feel right at home, treated me like family and she even cooked. I really wasn't expecting much, all I needed was a bed to lay my head on. First off I went to my cousin's apartment to pick up my stuff, she wasn't home but my brother was there and he was fuming about me spending the night at a stranger's home instead of family. But he had no control over the situation and although he said he was going to have a serious talk with my cousin, I wanted to make sure I wasn't going to be around to witness them barking at each other. I made it to Gladys' house that evening, she had dinner ready for me and we chatted most of the night. She was like the big sister I never had. On Saturday she went to work until 4pm and I was at her place watching movies and chilling with her daughter, when she got home she suggested we go for a stroll in Prospect Park and we also stopped by the Brooklyn Librairy which is nearby. It was a hot day but it felt great being out feeling the nice breeze at the park and many people were barbequeing. I took some pics with my new digital camera but I have to figure out how to download them to my blog.

It was Saturday afternoon when I contacted my landlady to find out the scoop on my apartment and she informed me the place would be ready after 8pm but after eating a hefty dinner at Gladys and telling her it was time for me to head home, she convinced me to spend another night.

"Why go home so late? what if the floors are still not dry by the time you get there?" she said.

She was right. When I called the landlady again after 8pm she said the floors were not ready unless I'm willing to sleep on a mattress in the kitchen. I stayed one more night at Gladys and the next morning (Sunday 7/30) I left and got home at 11:00am. To my dismay the place was like a zoo, all my furnitures were still in the kitchen and bathroom but when my eyes fell on the tiles I was in love...they did an awesome job.

My apartment looks so much brighter with the new tiles. I've been gone for five days and I think it was worth it, well, except for the tiny drama with my cousin. I had nowhere to sit or lay down and so I moved all the furnitures on my own including the sofa bed. I was sweating like a pig. My back is not hurting yet. Although the landlady had told me to wait for her to come back from church to help me move the stuff around I got impatient, I mean I was there since 11:00 a.m. and she didn't get home until 4pm, what was I going to do all these hours?

By the time she made it home I had all my things in place and she was shock to find out Cathy is indeed SuperWoman :)

Oh yeah as far as my cousin is concerned she never called me to apologize (not that I expected it) and her brother and his wife never slept over the apartment. My brother said it was probably her way of getting me out of the apartment nicely. Will I invite her to my housewarming? I've given it a lot of thought and appreciate all your comments and advice. Most likely she will be invited but I will cross my fingers hoping she doesn't show up.

** Pleasure Principle** I had to post the poem below, I couldn't help it, hope you all like it.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Dear Diary,

It should be a HAPPY FRIDAY, unfortunetly this is day three of me being homeless. Yes, homeless. It is such a vulnerable feeling to wake up knowing you don't have a place to call home. I know I've bragged to everyone here in blog world that I moved to my new apartment a month ago but I feel like a stranger in my own place. Why?

Well for one, I haven't unpacked anything besides some clothes to wear for work. My landlady since the beginning advised me not to unpack anything because the painter/handyman had to first finish painting then put the tiles on the floor of my bedroom and livingroom. To make the story short, she paid him $1500 but was very disappointed when she noticed the work he did with those tiles. She couldn't believe her eyes, the tiles had gaps between them, they looked messy. Basically, she was trying to go the cheap route and got her money's worth. Of course I think the handyman knew nothing about tiles, he was just money hungry.

So Miss landlady learned her lesson and decided to call a professional company this week to install the tiles in my bedroom and livingroom. I came home on Wednesday night to find all my furnitures piled up in my kitchen and bathroom, fresh cement was put in the living room and bedroom. I couldn't believe my eyes, even the bathtub was stuffed with Hefty bags and boxes. My mattress and TV were put in the landlady's garage. All the doors were unscrewed and leaned over on the walls.

My landlady should have called me to warn me, I was pissed. I called her and she explained to me that the company she called to help with the tiles told her I would need to be out of the apartment asap for a couple of days in order for them to put down the tiles. Of course landlady offered me a place to sleep in her house but she had six family members visiting her from Florida. Where the hell was I going to sleep?

"When I get back from church we can figure out the sleeping arrangements for you," she said to me with an angelic smile.

I was burning inside. Too pissed to speak my mind. I went back downstairs to my apartment, packed up some stuff, called my brother who roommates with my cousin and then called a cab service to pick me up. By 8pm I was at my brother's apartment telling him what happened.

I was relieved to know my stay with him and my cousin wouldn't last and it was great to know I have my family's back in this sort of emergency. But last night I get to my brother's house and was ready to take a shower, I ask my cousin what happened to the towel she had given to me that I left in the bathroom. She said nonchalantly she put it in the dirty laundry and didn't know I was spending another night.

"But I told you Wednesday and Thursday I'm going to spend to sleep here," I said.

"Oh, I thought it was only for one day," she said. "Well, ask your brother for another towel."

After she did that, it made me feel like she didn't want me around. Also she kept her bedroom door shut while I was there which I found strange. I really felt uneasy and was convinced she didn't want me around. I called my landlady to hear more updates about my apartment and she explained that the floors won't be ready to be walked on until Saturday and my heart dropped. It means another dreadful night on the couch at my brother and cousin's house, I truly didn't want to spend another night there especially after the towel incident with my cousin.

I e-mailed her this morning and explained to her that my landlady said I can't sleep in the apartment until tomorrow (Saturday), ten minutes later she sent me a reply saying her brother from Florida is coming down with his wife and spending the night at her place and she is letting them use her bedroom. She said she will need to sleep on the couch and that there is no room for me to sleep at her place. My brother called me too saying how upset he was at my cousin who called him at work in a panic because I told her about spending another night in their apartment.

My brother said to her "what's the big deal, Cathy can sleep on the air mattress while you sleep on the couch, she won't be in your way, plus she's leaving early in the morning to go to her place."

She said to my brother she can't entertain me AND her brother and his wife and that five people in a small two-bedroom apartment is way too much, too many people, and she blabbered on and on about errands she has to do today and tomorrow.

"Cathy don't need you to entertain her, all she does is write,how will she get in your way?" my brother said to her.

He apologized to me and said he will call another cousin of mine to ask if I can spend the night there tonigt, I told him forget it and I'll figure out a way. I was saddened by my cousin's attitude because she had no reason to act the way she did, and I always thought we were cool. A year ago she had moved to California and was living with her brother and sister-in-law, she was jobless and was bone-dry broke, she used to call me all the time whining about her bills and not being able to find work. My heart went out to her, I quickly bought her a card and enclosed a money order of $100. She was shock, not expecting me at all to give her that kind of money.

This is the same cousin who treated me this way and now I wonder if I should bother to invite her to my housewarming party. So, I want to hear your opinion, would you invite her to the party?

If someone treats you unfairly especially a family member, would you return back the favor or let it slide for the sake of maturity? For example if my cousin ends up having an emergency later on and needs somewhere to stay...should I even look her way?

I know the saying is true: what goes around comes around, but I am soooo turned off by what she did. Phew! It felt great venting out.

By tomorrow I should be back in my apartment, I hope. There's no place like home.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006


A psychic told her
That she’s a 7th Daydreamer
With promiscuous tendencies
Taught by the only man who molested her
At eight years old
She was grass-fed with lack of trust
Only learned to keep quiet eyes and legs to herself
In order to fool thuggish men who threw lies
Based on hormonal changes
They heard all the way from Port-au-Prince
To Harlem that she has the best black beans in town
And her fish will make them powerful
They assume she’ll make them lighthearted
With her innocent smile
Unaware that her grind is a cruel whip
Of salt and vinegar
I don’t love easy, she yells to them
Her kisses confuse their heart
With a tale of stale wine
She marches without solace
And chews on trauma until numbness
Reaches over with tear dust
Hushing her to sleep
Their cock prayers wraps around her
as nutritional facts of life
Her bodega is sterling gold used as a doorknob
To cover her surface with their rainstorm
She carries her verbiage as mainstream
Unsentimentally she values some raunchy opinions
©7/06 by Cathy Delaleu
Tell me how to love you upside down
Without falling head over heels with
Postcoital coos will show evidence
Of emancipation
And with aggression you will
Feel my expression
Tell me how to leap every note of your flesh
And to have your pores weep a composition?
Numbers don’t lie
My inflation is not from lack of deficit
For the record I will dissolve my emotions with fire
And blow ashes to your lungs
Upside down I can love you with sunny side glows
Flamboyantly surf rum to your lips
My calypso string
Is plump with desire
©2006 by Cathy Delaleu

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

I read his testament tonight with an open mouth to greet
His lava that I swallow like sweet sauce
Each wink is a Jurassic Park of orgasm
With endless road rage
He gives and I take
I give and his world spins
Endless notes
All he can eat without tomorrows
Endless notes
All he can lick
The favorable value of meat
What he eats eagerly is no figure of speech

The metaphors used are meant to wet a visual appetite
All the way down to the nitty gritty of
Stimulation’s performance

And he wonders why my language is unique
Ou as tu trouve cette passion?
Where did you find this passion? He asked

I take him for another spin
Pierce his skin with tangible poetry
Tu es pour moi la definition de l’amour
You are for me the definition of love
Lyrically he is mine
Physically I am his
He versed himself in my philosophy
The use of phrases and abbreviation
Are now understood

We meet and greet not worrying about the future
Today’s print shows no defamation

©2006 by Delaleu

Friday, July 14, 2006

Dear Diary,

Rage was in his eyes. They spoke quietly to me like fireflies. And between ice cream dreams I melted with just one glance. He only offered a look that was enough to get me hooked. His manly swagger made me groan and the sweet sound of violin played a lustful song with high frequency mounting in this clitoral pulsation. He sat confident and with his deep voice requested a drink from the bartender. I watched his lips wooing my mind with a wicked sexual tale. He teased without touching me. I saw myself slipping into his drink. Amaretto sour tongue. Intoxicating myself in his stateliness. Rain was rumored to pour tomorrow, desire’s prediction was now. Strings of violin followed me. Strutting my Creole derriere towards him.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I asked

He looked me up with probing eyes and a sexy grin. Already he was nursing his drink, but soon he might get thirsty again.

Yes, I wanted him bad. The well has been dry for too damn long. I wanted him to know without words what I was seeking. I handed him my business card and walked away.

Later on he was at my place.

I was ready for him.

He blended strawberries and banana with his tongue. My round thighs not shy crawled to him and we milk shake on a feathered bed. The moment he pulled out my G-string we amplified the room with details inducing sugary waves with motion. His large rugged hands clung to my Congo hips and I rattled when his trumpet bi bi bopped with a tune synchronizing with strings of violin. He inserted some chocolate M&M’s inside my vagina. I couldn't believe it, this was a first for me.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

I tried to catch my breath when I felt him go down for a taste test. Oh God, I was in heaven. There was an acoustic response when he licked and sucked and my center string. M&M’s melted in his mouth and violin played louder. The bed squeaked his name over and over. I didn't want the night to end, but we had run out of M&M's and I quickly put on some clothes and rushed to the store to get some more.

Thursday, July 13, 2006


Mount Vesuvius weeps thick lava without the use of protection
Sun swallows heat not burning the flesh
I threw away the grocery list I had stashed inside my jeans for months
No longer needed
My hunger strike is finally over
I run towards him for more
Legs quiver anticipation
With implication his body demands a heavy investment
I fondle his shaft again with patchouli hands
And his huff sounds more like a monstrous horse
Strong gallops of air when his toes curl
Eyes turn into beams of thunder
And I become his spokesperson by gently squeezing heavy balls
Blow hot air on his mouthpiece kissing him with goose bumps
I take him in like a rumbling flute
Glistening his brown cork with flickering flames
Sucking my homeland with inexorable force
My pushpin makes him groan
The sweet, salty tamarind flavor is organically delicious
This cornrow action tortures him
But gives me pleasure
© 5.2006 by C. Delaleu

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

What wakes me each day is his beauty
The touch he spares with imagerunner hands
The need and want to peel
Shed off skin
Let him see the night of living
Custom framed for his pleasure
To tinge the palate with vulgar speech
Allow the brass wind to follow
With a forked tongue
Bilateral contraction occurs
When my paprika clit hums gratuitously his proposal
What wakes me each day is the informal flame of love
©2006 by Cathy Delaleu


Definition of MOVE: To progress toward a particular state or condition

As you all know I have moved to my new casa/crib/kingdom/home,
but now I am unable to do anything as far as decorating
or unpacking. The painter was able to paint all the rooms except for the
kitchen, I am told should be done next week.
So what is the major problem?
They have discovered the wooden floors in my bedroom and living room
are infested with termites, yuck! And so over the weekend they started taking out
some of the wood and tomorrow the exterminator is coming to do some major work. My landlady then tells me that she no longer wants to keep the floors with the wood; she went to Home Depot and bought $1500 worth of tiles for my bedroom and living room. She was supposed to be out of town for 10 days starting tomorrow but put off her vacation in order to watch the men work in my apartment. That was nice of her to do. Of course I am not at all thrilled with all this going on, I feel kind of homeless not having anything in order. I come home everyday to find the painter/handyman working on the floors and now tomorrow is going to be crazy. Yesterday I was a bit stressed, not wanting to go home and face the mess I still have over there, so after work I decided to go solo to the movies and watch The Devil Wears Prada. It was cute, not worth the $11 dollars I paid at Loews. I can’t believe they increased the price just to watch one corny ass movie. What is this world coming to? I know I should have waited to watch Superman or X-men but they were all sold out for the 5pm and 6pm shows. Ok, so far I have three men working in new my apartment: the painter/handyman, the electrician and the exterminator.

The painter/handyman is one guy I can’t stand because he takes too many breaks and he looks at me funny when I’m home. He also gives me attitude when I ask him questions. The guy is not even cute and he sweats like a pig. The electrician who is from Guyana is cute, he has a nice body and he is approachable. The only problem I have with him is his accent, which is very strong and hard to comprehend.
His speech is like doubledutch, I find myself asking him to repeat himself more than once. When he was installing my ceiling fan I asked questions about his background and he divulge lots of info, he has three children and been married for over ten years (damn! all the good ones are taken) then there’s the exterminator who is Jamaican and looks like he’s in his fifties. He stopped by my apartment twice to take a look at the wood floors. He was very flirtatious with me but he’s not at all my type and way too granpa-ish for my taste. I used to have the freedom to blog at home but I have no quiet time or space and I am craving for privacy. I don’t know how long this torture will last.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

A poem comes to her
First it knocks on the door of her mind
Checking to see if she’s home
Rest his head on the sheets of her thighs
Uses a black finger as pen to entice her with rhymes
He caresses her gently
His verses soft like the blanket of her hair
His breath is warm
He doesn’t move
Instead he waits
He watches for her reaction
He wants her to escape
And suddenly she feels his burn
She shivers
She gasps
She exhales
She wants him to stay there
He is inside of her
Swimming in her thoughts
She pronounce his words accordingly
Rain starts to pour
Pounding on her skin
She opens her mouth
Welcomes water in her soul
Washing away the ashes she once stored as debris
© 2006 by Cathy Delaleu

Your tongue’s protrusion coiled groove theory
Gave me a standing ovation
Locked between sweet cookie dough sheets of ecstasy
Yes, I inhaled your scent of midnight rain
Smothered in firm pillows with mellow textual messages
Reminding me of the highest mountain of North Africa
Where I’ve climbed on foot
You gave savvy praise to my desert land
Then I woke up
Feeling a cold space
I am missing you…
© 2006 by Cathy Delaleu


Yeah, that's what I wish I had this long weekend but instead I ordered myself some Haitian food and vegged at home. My weekend was a quiet one. I did nothing exciting besides watching TV and unpacking. I will say it again, I AM LOVING MY NEW PLACE. The painter is starting with the kitchen and bathroom today, so when I get home from work I will find my kitchen walls in tangerine and the bathroom will be a mustard color. The electrician whom I met yesterday is a cutie and he is also stopping by today to install the ceiling fan in my bedroom. I have so many ideas to embellish the place. I'm glad my landlord has allowed me to paint the place the way I like it. I look forward to entertaining friends and family with my cooking, paintings and's been too long. For you to understand why I'm so thrilled about my new place, let me start from the beginning. Prior to moving, I lived in someone's basement for four years (damn, I can't believe it's been this long).

Yes, I lived four years in a dark hole where the walls were all made of wood that's why it was hard to see or feel the outside light on my face. It was depressing. I kept telling myself I will move out soon, but before I knew it four years flew by. The landlord and her family were a loud bunch, a bit too ghetto for my taste. Their washing machine was downstairs across from my bathroom so you can imagine the frustration. They did their laundry at least four times a week, you could hear them running up and down the stairs from their apartment to the basement. It irritated the hell out of me hearing the door upstairs slamming all the time and people chatting. They had traffic of visitors coming in and out of their place like a convenient store.

I can't believe how I still managed to focus on my writing with all their distractions and what I put up with should have made me bounce a long time ago.

For example, I came home one day to found a black crow flying around my place. It came from a hole inside the boiler room and of course the landlord sent her husband to get rid of the ugly bird. Also, whenever it rained outside, the water would crawl in through the front and backyard door, all the time I had to dry the water with towels and a mop. Another wonderful experience, I came home one day and was cleaning my bedroom, putting my clothes away. When I lifted my pair of jeans I had on the bed it started to wiggle. I screamed and threw it on the floor, I didn't know what the hell it was. I dialed the landlord's number and told her something is moving inside my jeans, yeah I know, it sounds funny, lol. When I told her this she was confused. She came right downstairs with her husband and with a broom. My jeans was jiggling on the floor so they could see with their own eyes I wasn't bluffing. Her husband was poking the broom on my jeans and she asked me if they can use my 10 pound weights to slam on it. I was guessing it must be possum, I know it couldn't be another crow because the landlord covered the hole we found in the boiler room. I gave her husband my dumbbell and after pounding it four times on the jeans, the wiggling stopped. I gave him a trash bag and he use the broom like a shovel. After shaking off the jeans inside the trash bad, we found a dead fat squirrel.

I've also experienced water leaking from the kitchen's ceiling, clogged water in the shower, flying nasty black bugs which were mistaken for termites and many more interesting memories from my old place. Oh yeah, how about the time when the landlord showed up at my place with her nephew (unannounced). She was trying to hook me up with him. The guy was at least 5'6 with a beer gutt and he looked old (late forties). I was still in my pj's with hair sticking out like Miss Shaka Zulu. I was so pissed at her. I never said I desired to be part of her hillbilly family. Then she had the audacity to give him my home number without my permission so the guy called me that same day asking me out on a date, I turned him down. There is more but I won't bore you with any further details. Let's just say I'll be making love to my new home sweet home and never will look back. I think the saying is true: Good things comes to those who wait.

I am calm. I am at peace. I am loving my space.