UNDER COVERS-
Broke down last night-
My tears cried a river-
A break in my emotion had my soul at a quiver-
The soft touch of her lips-Kisses my soul in the find-
Finding out I love her-because I heard love can be blind-
I wait by the fire-For her scent to take the air-
I hold love in a passion and wait for the fury to flare-
She steps in the room-She comes fully aware-
Of a time to make love and a time not to care-
My hands start to caress her body-her body my putty-
Molding and touching in the soft reference of loving-
I lick her neck how the taste rages my soul-
Slowly kissing her chest allow the beauty to soar-
My hands make way down her body moving to her sides-
And the only thought in my head is how bad I want to be inside-
My fingers tickle her legs making way up her dress-
Her soft skin indulges me and I am feeling no regrets-
I slide her garment down-now my fingers have been wet-
Looking into her eyes-making love to her face-
Feeling the beauty of the world sent to me in a heavenly grace-
Her moans speak in a language I just now understand-
Now I embrace the relationship of a women and a man-
I make way inside her-now my heart beats non-stop-
In a rhyme of melody-As I pump from up top-
The motion gains speed-the emotion gains need-
Beating against her body-no worries conceived-
A ****** takes toll-as our bodies grow whole
The sounds of this angel allow my body to indulge-
The final yell of ecstasy screams louder than thunder-
A brave new world was born from making love under covers-
BY:
RICHARD ITSKOVICH

AM I?
Am I the whispers of her wind?
Am I her escape from reality?
Am I the man she really loves?
Or am I just another casualty?
Am I awake for her grace? For her eyes strike like no other-
Shedding fear against the moonlight reveling the path of these lovers-
Heading down a long set journey to discover one another-
For patience is the virtue to hold us together-learning and loving no matter the pressure-and finding each other through the worst of the weather-and being together we hold like a treasure-
For love is a blessing and we bless it by choice-Blessed by the best things in the crack of your voice-
BY
RICHARD ITSKOVICH

Enlighten Me-
I’m always underestimating self-master bating-
Graduated-
At the top of fund frustration-
My motivation needs money relations-
The contemplation of money making has my mind at a constant hating-
My breaking patience-
Has my mind like a **** relating-
Regulations of all my banking-
See my bank account disintegrating-
I’m suffocating-making payments-Late fee statements-
Debit-Credit-Cash-oking
Debit-Credit-Cash-oking
Racki­ng bills my back is breaking-my nerves are shaking-
Shaking more than I anticipated-
Now I’m here with a life to fear-
Writing till my mind is clear-
Writing till I feel what’s real-
Writing till I seal a deal-
Multiplying-
Adding-Subtracting-and dividing-
Signing more checks than providing-
It’s suicide I’m not denying-Rhyming trying its crucifying-
Clocking in before the sun is rising Grinding flying hoping griming-living life nine to fiving-
Its re-revising-Re-defining-Rectifying-
More so that I think I’m hiding-
Killing with finical violence-Violating my banks alliance-
Maxing plastic so fantastic now I need some re-advising-interest rates have a grown man crying-Million dollars seem so un-winding-
Now I’m whining-
Constant buying-
Gas rates got me into biking-riding-fighting-
Just surviving-any discount seems so delighting-winning lotto seems o-so-righteous-buy one get one is so exciting-
Boot leg buying I ain’t lying-
Being broke is constant rewinding-It’s reminding-so relying-over drawing is my new binding-it’s confining-so I’m finding-Making takings of my disliking-Making takings that are so dang freighting-dollar scratchers are so inviting-
But this realization is so enlightening-
Moving as fast as a bolt of lighting-
I’m asking you G-d to help me like this-
I’m feeling the pain and I think I might just-
ROB ME A BANK-
BY:
RICHARD ITSKOVICH

DESIRE-
Prey on the knowledge in the desert I seek-
Taken for granted by the devil’s defeat-
Pouring down gospel pray that I keep-
My head from the sands and my feet from the reef-
Snakes with the contracts trying to make you a lease-
Golden pen in the hand-writing with ease-
Perfection of a poem till the poems complete-
Knowledge is the for front and the for front will lead-
Disaster combination-Armageddon is peace-
City of Angles-
Agents **** dreams-
Strolling on rooftops-Standing on beams-
Heartache of heartbreak-I flow like a stream-
Praying on mountain tops wanting to scream-
Looking at my daughters-for their pulse is my beat-
I have been through the darkness so my blood is my ink-
No rest for the wicked-
The good follow like sheep-
Beating down barriers looking for me-
Searching for the meaning never will be complete-
Dreaded demons in this world-
Can’t knock me down to my feet-
My pen is the answer-bullets brittle with peace-
Disciple poet problems pounding on me-
I look to the limelight-security creeps-
Desire for success-
I desire to be-
Me!
BY:
RICHARD ITSKOVICH

I picture her eyes burning the sun to a blaze-
The warm winds of her tenderness, the beauty of her grace-
Angelic voices sing notes of an emotional state-
Thinking the thoughts that outlast all time and all space-
Interlocked destiny-Cupids arrow of praise-
Aphrodite holds Aries-In love with Capricorn days-
Pumping and pounding feeling her right through my vein’s-
Denial of a skeptic no longer scared of the chase-
Standing on mountain tops-Vision clear without haze-
Emotions storm in like lighting, thunder, and rain-
Physical feelings have my body going insane-
Lost under covers till the day finally breaks-
Illuminating passion bodies intertwined in a maze-
Baby girl is a blessing like her love that I crave-
Baby girl is the best thing I love all of her ways-
Blessed by spirits her beauty blesses my days-
-
RICHARD ITSKOVICH

The Lost Letter of Love-

The thunder of the busy street makes love to the vicious voices that plague my mind. Reminisce of a forgotten love still shower my inner most thoughts. Passion that once overwhelmed my life is now my reason for exhaust. The shimmers that once lit my ambition and drive now hang lightless, darker than the deepest secret. Yet the frequency of lost desire still induces the most intoxicating substance. Arms grow weary caressing forgotten times, the tears that once grew a river, are now dry beds of torment. The beautiful dawn plays in coalition with the residuals of a distant song. “Goodbye my lover” plays in harmony with the neglect of reality. Not facing demons yet displaying affection to them. Indulging in virtues once restricted by political propaganda. I am her vicious vendetta, her thoughtlessness, her absence. I lay on a bed of needles enjoying the aguish, suffering in satisfaction. The destructive thought of deserving such a decisive decision allows my mind to become a rag of lost emotion, wiping tears from the concaved steps that once bread a whirlwind of radical love. A canvas stained recklessness paints a picture of a destined solitude. No regret orchestrates a symphony of percussions, streaming beautiful sound through the hills of total regret. Awake becomes second nature, slumber slumbers with the lack of motivation to ignite the calm. Insomnia hums in a melody so righteous that the religion becomes the man. A hollow shell of broken ambition sway in the wind of self desire. The cries of the night become intoned with the cries of truth.  Instinct maps the course of self-withered illusion, illuminating the “why us” cause. A foundation of happiness holds the weight of a pessimistic engagement. While optimistic scavengers prey on the depths of endless souls. Disappointment rectifies all signatures of a so-called love. Remembering a once forgotten future claims its stakes as the eternal right. The moon holds desperate for the fortune of the unfortunate son. Unsettled disputes, take a toll on broken bodies. Broken wills dance in the limelight ignoring the forgotten pain, a laugh of retribution becomes one with inexplicit content. While saying “I love you” becomes that of explicit context, searching for the meaning between the lines. The lost letter of love shapes like the clouds in the sky only resembling something it never can be.

RICHARD ITSKOVICH

The Father’s Eyes-

FATHER SAID TO HIS SON-

“Son I hand you my sins-
This is my will son, for your life to begin-
A journey is ahead of you-
For 80 years you will fight-
Some days will be beautiful-
Some will be dark as night-
Hold strong my son and allow the world to see who you are-
Show them my boy of how to recover from scars-
Allow them to see the beauty in your soul-
Be ambitious my boy but don’t be driven by gold-
For snakes will want to hunt you-and try to hurt you-
You must stay strong and no matter where I am, I will never desert you”

THE SON ASKED HIS FATHER-

“Father how must I live-
Moments that cross my mind, make my soul not want to give-
I feel fearful father like I don’t know where to go-
I’m not sure my father if I am supposed to be warm or I’m supposed to be cold-
I’m scared now father for this is the end of my innocence-
And I’m not sure my father if I understand life and its relevance-
And now Father you are passing me your sins, and I’m not sure my Father if I’m ready for all this to begin-“

THE FATHER HELD HIS SON’S HAND AND SAID-

“Listen to me; you are an angel heaven sent to be-
A man and yet a solider fighting evil in the night-
A will of ambition not tainted by spite-
Go on now my son allow the world to see who you will become-
Don’t fear my boy-your mind is your gun-
Fight them with knowledge, compassion, intelligence and strength-
Feed them the word of love and give the love all your thanks-
I must leave you now boy-For the Father calls me home-
Hold strong my son for my kingdom is now your throne-
I love you my boy and this you will never forget-
I am in side you my son, and we bare us no regret-
I LOVE YOU”

The Father closes his eyes-
Off to heaven he was called-
Leaving his son to fight through the warmth and through the cold-
The Son stands up-For today a man was born-
Driven by love-Never tainted by scorn-
A hero arises in his father’s eyes-and in his father’s sins-
A righteous life will live all for the righteous beauty to begin-
The Son touched his father’s eyes and kissed him one last time-

“ I Love you Father and I will feel you in my soul-
I will see you in my mind-
I now bare your sins-as I will pass it to mine-
Then my son will be righteous doing your will as the blind-“

THE Son no longer feels his once past fright-

“I must go now father and fight the good fight-
I will miss you my father and forever goodnight”

The Son becomes the Father and the Father becomes the light-

BY
RICHARD ITSKOVICH

Slight-
I have a slight gangster mentality-That runs so deep it’s a poetic catastrophe-Its blasphemy and a tragedy if I don’t reach levels that come after me-
So come after me-

As I rip in tongues-As I hail from the lungs-let the words by the curves be slowly un-done-
The majestic one-The poetical son-

The able no fables releasing hell and its stables till the grapple unravels-in your mind I might dabble-Have you follow like cattle-if you battle than straddle the best of your babble-Biblical proportions beat you down to the gravel-

And in your grave you’re a slave to the rhymes I convey-Time to make way-Because the wisdom has made this intellectual given-profit that’s driven-ripping and hitting-Moving and living never loosing the rhythm-rhyme with precision-Plant my feet in position-The story been written by the way I’ve been gripping-My energy’s lifting the complete non-existent-time to raise your resistance-next to me you’re a distance-Descending and defending emcees to oblivion-

Hope you been listening-The lesson is interesting-Strategically moving in-your mind I’m consuming and you soul has been looted and your conscience is loosening-I move you like puppet strings-Spit syllable’s like mixed drinks-Turn your nightmares to dreams except when you scream-Hope your systems been clean because I carry the sickest flow you ever did see-

The poetical king-The most influential of beings-Ripping through seams-The star of the scene-

And I will infest through your vest burry deep in your chest-rip your soul to a mess-always passing the test-Eliminate stress-when the labels invest in the man they call Able always causing a wreck-Broke with no checks so the ambition don’t rest-It goes for the **** so I’m taking all bets-Look up to the best-Play my life like its chess-Making moves I will never regret-always making connects with rhytmaical sets-

As I stay relevant it’s time to pay up your rent-because you whack emcees don’t see I’m hell bent-

So I’m bending and breaking your necks as I’m taking you sprit from making any type of relation-ride with me you need maintenance-battle me become patients-Your style is vacant-Your lyrics are faking-Your like rap master bating-I’m like rap *******-On every occasion-I’m the spoken word liberation-Now I will crush all whack

emcees with complete annihilation-
Stop all the playing-

Pillow Talk-
I want to hold you tonight-
I want to consume and make love to you all night-
I want to kiss your lips and caress your hips-
Show you how your love gives me a ***** fix-
I just want to pillow talk-
See your eyes light and conversation spark as bodies lay in the dark-
I want to grow to know you-
Your tender ways-your loving grace-bless my days-baby stay-
Lay with me tonight-
Candles burn-My body yearns for all of your insight-
Lay fright at the door and allow my body inside yours-
Tonight is for lovers to soar-
And I adore the seconds that pass-And I grasp everything in my path-
This beautiful women maybe perhaps will be the one to outlast my everyday man crap-
Because the beat moves are passion-Sweating bodies pumping in compassion-
How fast and beautiful actions send attraction to the mental state of relaxing and all I am asking is for you to stay tonight-
Nothing more-
Just tonight-
Like I said before-this is for lovers to soar-
Making love till the sun breaks the shore and in the morning-Baby-we could do it some more-
And then we could pillow talk alone-
Conversations of life deeper than the baritone-
And tonight my body is your home-Saturated against each other in a zone-
Truth be told-
This is the greatest love I have ever known-
And I don’t want to let it go-
Because you are so beautiful-
And tonight is for lovers to soar-
So let’s pillow talk-
By:
Richard Itskovich

COLD CORNERS:

The cold corners of fate-
Are not the same for each individual face-
See some maintain prosperity while others lose the pace-
Streets become home and liquor stores become gold-
Begging for change in more ways than we know-
The shivers of life-Echo dreams that once were-
For an exchange of solitude has truly occurred-
And the pain is deeper than I could ever word-
So he lays alone in the jungle with concrete beds-
Never wanting more except for the prayers in his head-
Making peace with existence-As famine breaks bread-
No pride in this wilderness-
His hopes have mislead-
Once a prospect of fortune-now just socially dead-
Ignored by the common-considered a mess-
A crack fiend-A dope fend- A Vietnam Vet-
A mother- A father- An economical threat-
Not paying taxes- Just receiving regrets-
A patriot to a government that quickly forgets-
A ***-A loser-another social neglect-
A man- A women-An image that wont reflect-
Still making love on concrete beds-
Finding warmth by the moonlight and peace in the night-
Sirens are harmony-Traffic is a lullaby-
Awakened by beauty-Breakfast at sunrise-
Wanting acceptance-But socially declined-
Finding friendship in the cold corners of his mind-
Counting rain drops just to help pass the time-
Spoiled by memories so he lives in rewind-
Remembering moments when he had “an everyday normal life”-
Playing on off ramps-
A poet with a cardboard sign-
Copper is his fortune-but their kind are a dozen a dime-
So he sleeps and waits for the day he reaches the gates-
Asking for change on the cold corners of fate-
By:
Richard Itskovich

The boy-
The boy pushes forward-
So un-tainted by those tainted thoughts-
He inhales and exhales painting poetry with vocal gloss-
Using hip-hop to help composite a symphony-
Holding tightly in his grip his very own destiny-
And what re-mains most interesting-
The curiosity-
His curious nature brings-
It defining-
Him-
Which is so undefined-
Rendering his thoughts-One memory at a time-
Using a pallet of letters to continue to write his rhyme-
This here is his beauty-
His actuality-
His factory-assembly line-
And if you factor in-that kind-wicked heart-
You have continuous sunlight to aluminates the dark-
The spark is his-but the flame he deems yours-
The artistry is mine-But the fame is for ******-
Alone that boy stands ready for war-
Holding destiny in his hands-ready to soar-


PRIDE-PEACE-PRESSENCE-POETRY

My own train of thought-is my own train wreck-
Heaven sent the failure- just trying not to break my neck-
The cold steel is the weapon but the pen is so deadly-
Signing to the lord,-praise me his melody-
The blood that drips from my tiny slit eyes-
Is the blood that burns from all my goodbye’s-
And I promised never to say c’est la vie-
But right now in this moment I wish I could be-
A better man-with a stronger hand-
A better human whose vises are less consuming-
I console among a counsel of fends-
Villains and demons-expression-and dreams-
Hands in your pocket-Empty like your soul-
The devil is here-disguise it like gold-
So chase your cheddar if that makes you whole-
But the whole ******* thing goes around in circles.
And what goes around comes around-
And what goes up must come down-
Like the train wreck of life-it crashes with no sound!

Breathe
Right now I’m tired-
I’m beat-
I’m just weak-
I’m looking for you-
To sit by your feet-
And just listen to you breathe-
And breathe-
Most likely never exchange a word-
Just sit by your feet-
Because it’s the best place in the world-
And you Breathe-
And I am at ease-
In a symphony of peace-
Please-
Bear with me-
As I breathe-
And you breathe-
Lord I question your very means-
Still not understanding how you did this to me-
This I do selfishly-
Needing him more now than I ever could have believed-
Lord I am down on my bleeding knees-
Asking you to answer me-
But it’s just not happening-
And I am not understanding-
How you could be so commanding-
But won’t answer me as I am demanding-
I guess this is just damaging-
Soul examining-
Look for any reason to get a handle on things-
I apologize as I do this selfishly-
He is resting and I must realize I am nesting-
His memory is refreshing-
I close my eyes and I sit by his feet-
And I just listen to him breathe-
And breathe-
And at that moment I am at peace-

Addicted to Love
She used to slowly caress my hand-
She would send chills down my spine-
We would indulge in white lines as ecstasy got us high-
One journey of a heart established in her lies-
In her eyes I could see the twisted world that she believed-
So drunk on insecurities highly clouded by ****-
This is the devil’s disease-It is the devil’s fortune and fame-
In love with a substance-I became in love with her name-
Thin haired needles puncture love to my veins-
My heart would beat with tweak-
To the rhythm of the dope game-
The rhythm of the dope game-
WAIT-
What was all this ******* for?
Saying you love me as I lay incoherent on the floor-
The steamy smell of three and half turned to four makes way through my body escaping my pours-
Till the core of my soul lays alone in its own cold-
And what was all this for?
It was a ***** stained love as glass pipes held dreams of hope-
Torched lit fires turned ambition to smoke-
LSD became creativity-till the pits of hell were roamed-
And what was all this for?
It was for love-
It was for drugs-
It was my only way to cope-
Understand?
Under gram erections stood alone penetrating holes I’ve never seen before-
Moans of stupidity released thoughts I ignored-
But I adored the feeling of evolution elevating me to heights un-soared-
Where lands of all man reach limitations to explore-
My body begging me to stop but my mind is begging me for more-
Refugees and causalities lay naked on the shore-Track marks leak the scent of and all and out lost war-
And I’m still not sure what all this was for-
Maybe it was for the thrill-
The thrill of submersing all my rotten thoughts that plague my good will-
My will to live among humanity and grant myself the freedom to walk among all of G-d’s family-
But tragedy strikes at the heart of the lost kind-
Where bleeding bodies are buried by the sands of time-
Where a generational cry turns to generational screams, where a generation in denial becomes generational fends-
And bitterness soaks through her cream where lost visions of the future become a long distance dream-
And the subdue substance that once claimed me now allow me rhymes of exploration,-exploring things I’ve never seen never dreamed never thought I’d ever be another statistical teen-
But I’ve grown-I’ve grown for the ignorance-The ignorance of believing I can make sense of life and relevance-That the heaven sent failure no longer has remembrance and the continuous hell bent world that destroyed me now gives me a halo of sense and for the first time-things make sense!
So I set myself forward down a road of reflection, reflecting on things I meet at my souls introspection-inspecting deep dark thoughts that beat my soul to redemption and I question-
I question why I stand here ready to go hand to hand to prove I’m a man when all I really want to do is show her who the **** I am-but I can’t-
So I close of my angels and reach for the devil within and its plaguing me why can’t G-d see that I don’t want to live in a dream-I just don’t want to be-
Please-
Allow me ease-
As I dream of moments with my old love-with my old drugs-with my not giving a ****-
Like why the **** should I care when no one else does-
So instead of the drugs I will pick up a pen and write a rhtymatic flow about the places I’ve been-and now-the only addiction I have is writing my hymns-
For the hell hath no fury for the devil within but in the end-
Well in the end-
She slowly starts caressing my hand again man-

Walk
Dear Mr. President-
I think it’s time we talk-
See I walk in that same stilled motion-
Engraved in my soul-Sir-is the same old theory notion-
Handed a dripping blood star spangled rag of devotion-
I hear the anthem play as I make way through this sandy ocean-
Yet I have compromised for the life that I have chosen-
Sir-
I am frozen-
Stuck among the simple brainwashed component-
Wondering where home went-
And they say home is where the heart is-
But what if the heart has left home-
Then it’s been condoned-and postponed at the emotion that should have been so home grown-
Yet I am so alone-
I’m surrounded by thousands of drones-Moving in illusions to the beat of contemporary confusions is leaving the stink of retribution and the contusion on the spirit of this institution Keeps proving while correspondents are continuously reviewing the inability to honor the constitution-
So with all due respect-sir-what the hell are we doing-?
I am losing my G-d **** mind-While patient politicians predict the estimated time-
And in the mean time-Bullets fly by brittle bodies-Rotting minds wait for mind-full plotting-Knowing knowledge knocks simple logic-And it is chronic-
And I don’t mean the kind you smoke-But more so the kind that poke jokes by late night hosts-
So when the hell did is this war become a show?-
My soul it lays defeated-physically-mentally-and emotionally-depleted-
I am bleeding-
Needing a reason to keep on breathing-Dreaming of a moment when my mental torment becomes dormant-And I am no longer fending-but feeling-Kneeling-Screaming-Asking-
The Lord for a meaning-
These fatigues have me stressed and fatigued and this disease it seeps deep into my sleep-And I just creep hoping my weary feet don’t lead me to a concaved grave that bleeds-
As trails of remorse stream down my cheek-
I plead-
With you Mr. President please set precedence consider my wishes relevant I just want to go home to my residence where Corrupt Cooperate Capitalist no longer have this regiment-and the elements of peace sir have a higher percentage than that of the deceased-
See-
These dog tags come with body bags perfectly delivered in a neatly folded flag-And the fact remains Sir-it’s an endless game-Sir-we are trying to conquer a region we can’t maintain-Sir-So I ask you to refrain-are youth from being slain-Please-let wisdom reign-Indulge in peace not in pain-Please sir-go against the grain-in that stilled motion-I walk the same-
If you recall Sir-
I voted for change-