Look to the valley, the valley below
Where the river runs smoothly
A testament to the soul
Mountains are fertile with the passage of time
Where new growth is a forest of love from the divine
Rolling hills tell a story that spans the lifeline
Of an energy force that has molded refined
Peace forms a balance between yin and yang
the female of the heart, the male of the brain
Such beautiful tundras of lotus in blossom
Like jewels within rainforest that are called hidden powers
alignment of these jewels sets a calm deep within
where the wildest of animals make a harmony distinctive
Breaths of fresh air from the seas to mountain tops
Encompass the blessings that God has given us
What a radiant beauty is burst forth into darkness
where the laughter of much love brings a light that's contagious
Budweiser cans lay on the floor like empty mortar rounds,
the smell of Jack Daniels as potent as battlefield blood.
Weekend wars where we fight ourselves for pleasure.
Waging conquest on the banal.
Losing limbs and liver for a life less ordinary.
The air in my apartment is stale like cigarette butts,
buried in mass graves in an ashtray over full.
Weekend warriors where we battle for a new fix.
Waging conquest on the week day.
Losing steady vision for a life less ordinary.
A map is used to find direction and your current position. I find you can get all this from listening to RAP,
Now RAP is to me rhythm and poetry which can be changed to music and poetry(MAP) but we are taught that rap has no meaning in the bigger picture when in fact it paints the current picture
Now we only have our position how can this be a map? In life you find direction for oneself so how could this differ? Rap lets you know where you are so you can know where to go because life is change,
Not only to acquire fame but those who make the biggest change are the ones who are most famous, that's your direction not fame but to make change.
So we have direction and position proving RAP can be thought as a lyrical MAP
Before the decade spat us out,
on our bicycles we had options
the green blaze truly sped by
with the years
and Dad's knew their sons interests
lay in Rock, where musicians in de rigueur denims
sign posted the alpha roost
and we all had dreams of blondes,
their beacons crafting
secrets and desires about growing up.
This was the surest way
to catch an education for life
Like a child enlightened by heightened curiosity,
So is a native swimmer by poetic luminosity.
A prose in sight and sound devoid of modern flair,
For poetic convention the diver does not care.
But take this vague verse as one roaring rhyme,
And take it as verbiage very overdue in time.
Unjustly sunken voices the swimmer seeks to hear;
Battling a torrent history...above, below, and near.
The inquisitive diver infers a present too dismal,
As around an angry sea lies an origin, abysmal.
Rejecting all fables history’s abettors inked true,
The swimmer seeks fair chroniclers as wreckage was their due.
Sought is Illyria, a place far from here;
A land said "not to exist", so how can it disappear?
Most fabricated history our beings cannot fathom;
Quelled grandiose splendor serves political stratum.
So, how does one interpret Illyria’s butchered will,
As her godless schism fibbing history faux fills?
While Illyria’s rebel ship sailed upon history a fright,
Shakespeare's pen amorously inked the 'Twelfth Night.’
Calling curious minds to ponder this hell of a theory,
But consider the diver's roots with impartial query.
What the Illyrian believed in was a life well spent;
Not man-written guidance begging cents to repent.
On modern Illyria’s outskirts sly mythology prevails;
Modern Illyria’s pervasion of such mythology still fails.
But her feeble-minded native is essentially to blame
For their grand, deceptive role in the imperialist’s game.
Brutal eradication of Illyria’s vocal reason
Deem all these conspirators of ultimate treason.
And as the State buries the intellect for piercing wits,
The native dog barks, upon foreign command he shits.
In the European south roam these bad hounds of species;
Anatomical sketches of Europe's rear excreting feces;
A pile all imperialists eject with laxative ease;
A pile all imperialists still smear as they please.
Above Illyrian graves, those below made to inspire,
The dopey dog dances, blind to his own fate in fire.
This damned work of art, not a site for you and eye,
Is an emblematic governance gagging an eerie cry.
The dog's disintegration, painted by his foreign master
Is an art to be repeated in future governing disaster.
As today’s worthless pawns in corruption they engage,
Illyria’s distinctive scions remain fools on a stage;
Our bodies dance and sway like silly puppets at play.
Our minds confined to idiocy as the capitalist’s prey.
Now, a poet's jingle jangle on probing minds they should linger,
As besought are worthy scions who must leave behind a 'finger.'
Burn it fuck it kill it HATE IT spray it with blood, shards of teeth and broken bones, ripping flesh like paper, the guts coil out like loops of rope, intestines spilling on the floor with fractal red reflekted rain in the moonlight, broken beams & dust collected on shelves left over from behind when there was a then, I gathered my thoughts and ran for the safety of death, where nothing can hurt, where it's safe and white and empty of mind DEATH where it's all over and everything is uncovered for what it was, just NOTHING, an illusion fleeting by, but don't you lust for LIFE, what's between her warm wet thighs, the sensation of penetration and the gasp of orgasm, it's a fucking SIN, it's how it begins and how it's perpetuated, afflikted on this world, this plain (PAIN) of existence. HOW TO GET WHAT I WANT? And not this endless WANTING, not the coward's way out but SATISFACTION, drugs, whores, fucking MUSIK, MUSICK, you make me sick and I am reviled by mine own self, in sickness and in health, DEATH, why won't you come for me, when I pray on bended knees, for this DISEASE called life to END, send me on to whatever's next, the Abyss or one last kiss from a bitch who never loved me to begin with, WHY AM I HERE?! And what is there to fear when nothing could be worse than this, torture me forever in lakes of fire, it's what I deserve, I'm cursed in any case and I hide my face in shame, who's to blame but me for existiing the first place, IT'S MY FAULT and I tear at my skin and I rip out my hair and of course it's not fair, NOTHING IS FAIR, that's the extent of existence and WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU EXPECT?
My mother called me the devil child
Because I was loud, destructive and wild
I found out years later I was born with ADHD
No one wanted ever to spend time with me
Parents didn’t know of ADHD and why I was different
They didn’t understand and they were very intolerant
Parents told older sister I was bad and she didn’t have to be around or play with me
So much of the time alone was really no fun, however for some help I did make a plea
I heard my mother double dog dare my father to hit me
Mother would refer to me as a turd in front of the family
All my cousins were smart, while I was failing all my classes in school
Got in to many fights with bullies and teachers who were always cruel
My family would all make fun of me, call names bully and tease
I was the loser that anyone could do or say what they pleased
None of my cousins was I ever allowed to play
I was always much of the time was alone all day
I lived in a strange house my dad was very to the T religious
And my mother was always drunk and of course blameless
She’d drink when home from work on the weekends or holidays
And could always hide it from all her friends and the relatives
No one believed me when I told them that she had been drinking
They acted like I was crazy by then I knew what they were thinking
My mother took me out on Friday nights to eat and buy whatever I wanted, after work
Her last stop was always the liquor store for drink and smoke, I was left in car like a jerk
She bought games and toys that took two or more to play, but she nor did dad never have any intension
Of spending anytime with me because I was in there way. I was a bad child that needed intervention
Wasn’t the perfect child I admit; I ran off when I was 16 did things I regret parents put me
Away, they came for counseling I complained about moms drinking and she felt angry
She said that her drinking wasn’t my problem and she’d be back to see me when I could face the truth
Never could mother admit to her or dad doing wrong, everything was always because I was a youth
Came home from school one day mom was passed out on the living room floor dead drunk
Called ambulance for her Dr blamed me and said no visit, and he called me a punk
My dad would come home and find she was throwing up while passed out always in her bed
I’d watch him take bowls and put them near her mouth to catch it, was something I would dread
He’d walk to the bathroom to empty the bowl and go back to get the next one to do the very same
And replace the unfilled one and repeat the process. I was told by her doctor that I was the blame
Sometimes mom would go running down the hall to the toilet bowl to throw up my heart would race
Because I always knew mom would do this and then she’d come to my room to scare rant and pace
Since I was a bad spoiled child who had parents with money, nice house cars and good jobs
And I was not willing to help out or be responsible, was told I made the family look like slobs
My sister let her boyfriend talk her into letting him take me to the dentist, instead he molested me
But no one believed me because in the past I had lied about things, and the truth no one would see
Since I was different all the cousins, my aunts and uncle could blame me for when things went missing
Or went wrong I was then and still am now the perfect scapegoat and yes about it I’m still babbling
My father ran out the back door, when he heard me wake up and come out of my room
So he didn’t have to bother with me, I wanted to spend time with him he’d assume
Somehow I managed to graduate from high school and I then would move
To a different city I felt I might have better luck and my life would improve
Married two very bad guys both who beat, threatened me and verbally abused
Divorced them both and had one child and how I’d raise this child alone I was confused
Tried to work and go to school never was competent enough to follow through
Each time I would start either I did not have the ability of completing anything new
Am not proud of this but I had 30 jobs that I lost in 10 years and even tried going to college
Unable to remember how and when to do things, my head from years of abuse was in a fog
Filed for SSI and Social Security, got on section 8, food stamps WIC and other government aid
I needed a home for myself and my daughter so I had to depend on things like this to get paid
My daughter grew up, became ill with a repeating debilitating disease
I dedicated myself to getting her well, and nothing about it was a breeze
Had to take her in pain weekly for Doctor visits many times she’d cry and wished she were dead
This broke my heart with no family help, just her and I to face things in the days and years ahead
Unable to attend school for years, the Doctor signed permission to stay home
School system assigned a teacher who was mean nothing about her was tome
School Social workers interfered
And my name they smeared
She finally one day went into remission
And now the nephrotic kidney condition
Seems for now to have forever gone for good away
For years it’s been don’t want others to downplay
For a while I homeschooled her and the first semester back in the public school
She was on the honor roll things seemed to be looking up and I felt like I was the rule
Then one day she lost interest in classes, homework and attending
And the principal of the high school was calling and threatening
Pulled her out and put her in to get her GED
Soon she was out within month of three
A year before she was supposed to graduate
I knew by then that I was doing things right
Enrolled me and her in community college we made the Dean’s list and acquired no student loan debt
Last may she and I graduated have started a new life and now I don’t feel things in my life are a threat
But alone I’ve raised a good child, self-published a book and kept things together
I’ve published some poetry and stories in magazines that will be on web pages forever
Even though my parents have helped me out once in a while financially
I feel lack of respect since they helped family who treated me crummy
I’m still feeling and have most of the hopeless thoughts when I was young
But I still try to steer my daughter to be different from me and hold my tongue
Those cousins with the high degree
Don’t seem to have too much on me
Both lost their jobs within a year out of college from being snobs and dishonest
But the parents just think that it was because others were being so glibbest
Both stuck alone in life working in their old age
That just mostly pays a low minimum wage
My sister divorced her husband for molesting her children still won't speak to me, told her kids I was bad
She lives in my town and over 20 years she’s never visited so by her I've been for life had
Most of all I think it's because my parents never would face reality or admit
To any wrong doing of years of abuse and neglect, something I couldn't forget
Why am I talking about this after all these years still?
Because I think that it may just possibly help me to heal
All Rights Reserved
I'm over you
You mean shit to me
So why do I constantly
See you in my dreams?
I'm moved on,
I'm head over heels in love with someone better
You're long gone & out of my life forever
So why did dream I was looking into your eyes?
Why within my dreams,
I finally didn't want to die?
Why is it that when I saw your face
My broken heart began to race
But that's not fair my heart does not belong to you
For every chance I gave you,
But then again
I always blame myself
Maybe its my fault you wanted someone else
But if I'm still mad at you,
Why do I see you in my dreams?
This is much more difficult than it even seems.
It felt so real it felt like the old times
It breaks my heart thinking
We had to leave it all behind
Things could be different
If we both weren't so selfish
To fix the past would be my deep down wish
But I don't care
Atleast that's what I tell myself
But I do,
That's why my heart is in a jar
On the very top shelf
I tried more than once to fix things
But in doing so
Misery is all that it brings
I don't think I mind seeing you in my dreams
But once I wake up
I come apart at the scene
hear my passionate heart
read what it beats into the night
wrap your soul in my words
ink replaces drops of blood
dripping from every letter
each phrase a personal side of me
read my fantasies, then close your eyes
touch the screen as if it's my skin
breathe me in thru my words
know me by what I write
meet who I am unfolding before you
read me, my life, my soul
She walked on a rocky shore under a grey sky.
He walked on a street trying to stay fly.
Her hair, it dangled to her knees.
His valued his newfangled steez.
She looked to the water and she saw an ominous ship.
Out of it hopped some Spaniards.
He looked behind him and a beat is what his heart did skip.
They said “Got any last words?”
These adversaries didn’t seem to care about much else.
The whole world was watching and people had something to prove.
As if their white knuckles and red faces were under spells,
They took from others as if others had nothing to lose.
She didn’t cry and never kneeled and yelled up to the gods.
It was only her misty eyes that told of her lament.
The heartless mustached people shared coordinated nods
and also shared the notion that this prize was heaven-sent.
He had no time to think before he saw his dripping blood
streaming along the sidewalk where no one but passers saw.
A shriveling life was where there was once a promising bud,
the silver Oldsmobile sped away leaving something raw.