Tag Archives: #thoughts

NIGGA WIZARD

I ate the cellphone from your heart
discovering a sweet taste of love

I ask, “lemme know…lemme know…”
how we could change each other’s life

On top of a game we’re the same
we s h o u l d   feel just the game
we’re comfortable so same!

I give you my presence so true
how lonely “no-good people” hurt
how only God says, “I can’t lose’em”
then this nigga says he’s a wizard
throwing coins at the Judas of this World
what?  30 pieces, I give you 100 coins b(itch.

I am the alligator running rivers in deep dense
—minds and your impression is a media post
to say you are crazy and beautiful

I can’t fallatio a screen with an image
of course my Wizard eats the energy of a soul
\how drugs/ and pills disregard the true feeling
of a life living in a blue sky locomotive ~~ riding
the rails of destiny beautiful soul.

Just sitting with the Crew of One
An injured creative
dreaming life
creating memories
so break  my heart
i pick up those pieces
and make a Picasso.

10.18.2023 ::


Mother, Father, Sister

She’s sitting alone, lost in thought, Wearing a mother’s weary look she’s caught. Where did she mess up, where did the fight go? God, fix this broken home, we’re feeling so low.

Hey mom, dad, sis, can you hear me now? I’m calling, trying, believing somehow. Hey mom, dad, dreamer, can’t you see? I’m here, alive, I’m your family tree. I’m your seventh child, born under the sun, When chaos strikes, together, we’ll overcome.

Dad tried to dream, but lost his way, Drowning his sorrows in a bottle each day. A single picture, cracked and out of place, This isn’t how it should end, such a disgrace. Through years of hurt and so many cries, Our blood ties should make us wise. There’s so much left unsaid, in days long gone, Don’t turn away now, let’s keep moving on.

Hey mom, dad, sis, can you hear my voice? I’m pleading, trying, I’m left without a choice. Hey mom, dad, dreamer, can’t you see? I’m here, alive, I’m your family tree. I’m your seventh child, in the modern light, When life hits hard, we’ll stand and fight.

Have faith, believe in the love that’s real, Despite the pain, our hearts can heal. Don’t you know, I’m here, breathing for you, I’m your seventh child, and my love is true. When the storm comes, we’ll face it, hand in hand, Believe, have faith, together we’ll withstand.


Sex Club Poetry

In my age I confess this:

Once I had a Poetry Club I created.

It was within a Strip Joint of high order.

Nothing but the most beautiful women.

I would visit on Wednesdays and go over

my poetry with those lovely women.

And I would read.

They would contemplate those words afterward.

How I miss my poetry club.

Not the sex but these lonely women.

:: 10.17.2023 ::


TIRED IN THE SUNRISE

What ‘if’ isn’t hesitating?  Those like us who burn in a midst of already
forgotten proclivities?  

The memory of a worm at the level of a shoe has more comprehension than
a  human brain today.  It’s a flying bird sitting upon a tree branch.  At the
level of a statue whose computer rages within a digital age of phosphorization
of Elon’s satellites.  The color of these glasses are pink in love or torrid lightning
As salt and pepper are tastes of a nutrition of alerts like napkin furniture

Historically the retreat of pastures who view a burning fire with their relentless
disinfecting tongues as swords of hate are the future — like pristine advisors
of death where retro doors are seen

I adore the reddish pillows like Koi fish which my head sleeps upon dreaming new
worlds as they cut waves with ciphered.  

I am who I am.

:: 10.12.2023 ::


BUT NOW I K N O W G O D

Another’s dream I saw
through my eyes
when I dying-Did
that little prick
of painful life
exquisitely handed
(by angelic-puke
bile and mourning sun)
and planets dancing
stars screaming fire
and the cold breath
of empty space
inside my head a toc-tic
tic-toc sanging bleed
on some unknown stage
I have always played
upon:

Confused for a while.No
more since I ate
the thread of golden
knowledge her string
cut my mouth but now
I know GOD!

:: 12-08-2014 ::


I APPRECIATE  THE MAD  HEAD OF POLITICS

The decapitated hand passes an hour from a flower
That above a spectral chess-city they cry
And ghosts control the furious variety of flesh
Invented like iron and silver structures of thunder.

Since so recently alive in a burst of light
Nomenclature within a ledger of written blood
parting waves and snow, clogs of ice that hands
cannot grasp even in brilliance i CAME.

The pregnant thoughts give birth you big star
in the jungle of concrete called Earth
Within that half-opened mouth of depth of a diamond
Sex is an extreme delight that easily directs a great
reading of a delirious ORGAN of phosphorescent change.

I look up to the sky but my eyes burn ~~~

I touched a goddesses whose chief song
between shelter and pillows; as her eyes carry an air
of a woman without legs or arms –> but a root
we met in pleasure as two doors in dawn / my shape
is tool divine too ; i look up to the skye where
everything is pleasure among the winds of clay
that invite out the tigers of their stems
among the furniture that sniffs out misfortunate
i had a fierce dream and bite the rain
and defend the cold politics of public snakes
whom I kill in the end.

I rubbed the different footprints of my feet
on ocellated carpet.  

:: 10.02.2023 ::


LOVER SPEAK TO ME

I love you not for your beauty
I do not love you for your skin
I do no love you for your lips

I love you for your mind
I love you for your heart
love you for your soul

As you walk through the night
while the moon follows mortals
the meadow lit as the loving soul
which heaven and Earth never denies
half of day between the night
is more than shades of any light
as lovers kissing within twilight.

:: 09282023 ::


LET THE STORIES SAY WHAT THEY WANT

One shall behold eyes tracing the heavens with magnificent splendor.
Seeking refuge upon the land of the lamp.

A form vanishing while standing,
At the convergence of all light’s end and inception.

Death holds no purpose when you exist,
When your eyes unveil the blueprint of what lies ahead,
When they harbor profound inclinations,
Or solidify the potent union of passionate lovers.

When Earth, when the parched gems of lids unfurl,
When space, not futilely, takes its winged whirl,
When myst’ry lends life its striking edge,
If on Earth it falls, in poetry’s fiery circles he spreads,
In the realm of being and verse, our essence he threads.

The body, once regained through footsteps, becomes meaningless,
Unless a ship from a passionate land lends its influence,
Offering its guidance, steadfastly shining stars,
And a radiant aura like a diamond amidst the night,
With a face that thirst has turned as pure as snow,
And hair that seems to attract like a swarm of magnets,
And a soul, deeply immersed in the embrace of slumber.
It’s your body, your essence, I recognize at first glance.

The covenant of all-seeing eyes holds no value,
Above a fiery line of all lines, unless
they succeed in crafting, preserving their swift wasteland,
And rendering it eternal, like a clear enigma,
A purifying rainbow.

earth, that love is eternally needed
immortal body emerging from a ray’s core
of lightning bolts, which craft a world scoffing at prisons
connecting eyes, love-filled, oceanic diadems

bring
bring
our river of fire, timeless and unbound
flowing through the purified ocean like a native vein.

:: 09.01.2023 ::


Vowels of Life’s Tapestry

A black and silent “A” I’ve found,

Velvet-clad, a swarm profound,
Around the cruel’s fetid ground,
In shadows steeped, it doth abound.

An “E” of mist and candid air,
Like tents and lances, proud and fair,
Through glaciers white, it seems to dare,
And shivers of parsley, light as prayer.

“I” in purples, crimson hue,
Bloody salivas, emotions true,
Lonely smiles, a tearful view,
In penitence or anger, too.

Oh, “U,” with waves of greenish hue,
Divine shudders, seas renew,
Pastoral peace and cattle’s coo,
On furrowed brows, alchemy’s cue.

“O,” a clarion call divine,
Strange stridencies, sounds entwine,
Worlds and Angels therein shine,
Violet ray, her Eyes align.

In humanities voice, these vowels weave,
A tapestry of beauty, life conceive,
a choice of words, like winds that grieve,
Unveiling truth, a heart’s reprieve.

:: 07.27.2023 ::

Poet’s Notes:

(This is the teacher’s note to explain this poem)

“Vowels of Life’s Tapestry” – An Analysis

In “Vowels of Life’s Tapestry,” the poet crafts a symphony of linguistic and sensory imagery, invoking the reader to traverse the woven intricacies of life and emotion through the prism of vowels. Each vowel becomes a brushstroke on the canvas of existence, an element of meaning that transcends its phonetic role to become an embodiment of experience. This poem carries an air of profound reflection and insight, a hallmark of a poet.

The opening lines, “A black and silent ‘A’ I’ve found, / Velvet-clad, a swarm profound,” immediately capture attention through the juxtaposition of imagery: the blackness and silence of the letter “A” is paired with the tactile and auditory sense of “velvet-clad” and “swarm.” This hints at the duality of life, where the seemingly silent and inert holds depth and complexity beneath the surface.

The imagery continues to evolve as the poet traverses through each vowel. The “E” is described as “mist and candid air,” evoking a sense of transparency and possibility. The mention of “glaciers white” and “shivers of parsley” conveys both strength and fragility, creating an atmosphere of audacious challenge.

“I” is portrayed with vivid emotions – “purples, crimson hue,” “bloody salivas,” and “lonely smiles” offer a vivid panorama of the human experience, ranging from passion to sorrow. The poet masterfully weaves the dichotomy of “penitence or anger,” underscoring the complexity of emotions that the vowel encapsulates.

The letter “U” is associated with “waves of greenish hue,” summoning visions of renewal and serenity. “Pastoral peace and cattle’s coo” reinforce a sense of idyllic harmony, but the mention of “furrowed brows” and “alchemy’s cue” hints at the alchemical nature of transformation and the deeper layers of existence.

The climactic vowel, “O,” is painted as a “clarion call divine,” eliciting an aura of sacred resonance. The interplay of “strange stridencies” and “Worlds and Angels therein shine” invokes a cosmic connection, as if the vowel itself is a portal to higher understanding. The image of “Violet ray, her Eyes align” merges the celestial and earthly, illuminating the connection between the macrocosm and microcosm.

As the poem concludes, the vowels are hailed as creators of “a tapestry of beauty.” The weaving of vowels, like winds that “grieve,” is reminiscent of both the fragility and resilience of existence. Their power to “unveil truth” and grant “a heart’s reprieve” reinforces their role as conduits of meaning and wisdom.

In conclusion, “Vowels of Life’s Tapestry” is a masterful composition that marries linguistic elements with profound insights. The imagery and associations tied to each vowel are laden with metaphorical significance, revealing layers of emotion, experience, and the interconnectedness of all things. Through this piece, the poet beckons readers to explore the profound meanings lurking within the seemingly mundane components of language, and in doing so, illuminate the profound truths that underpin human existence.


ADULTS ARE DEAD CHILDREN

Love my cry-tears from dark clouds
Hate might give hope in blue skies
but know
you are happy
you are happy
you are happy

when you give me love

And if you thought you were
a Queen inside my Head
there are novels I’ve read
that are Kings

You learn me
You learn me
You learn me

And dog-ear pages die
sipping tears of blood
from my aching heart
we learn more within tears

Waste are treasures
Waste are treasures
Waste are treasures

while we bow to life
while we shout outloud
while we weep like Christ

we're adults 
we're dead children
we're dead children

And some love then die.

:: 08.17.2023 ::