She's got art and power
And she's not afraid to show it off
All I've got is a few bad rhymes
Chilled to the bone by an internal scoff
She's a natural born creative
Confidence like a high class egomaniac
I'm an extraordinary type of average
And fragile like a budding lilac
Try to criticize her and she will deny you
Rebuke you, refute you, and defy you
Becoming stronger, harder and better
Nothing you can do will ever end her
Imply that I might somehow be inferior
I will run, hide, and be reduced to tears
Force me to face my greatest fear
Tell me I'm not good enough to be here
That is the difference between me and her
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 11:57 PM UTC
Bury me again I asked for it
Fight me and I won't fight back
It's not about my religion this time
I'm a glutton for punishment
Where else can I be of service
I have nothing left to give
But here I am there must be something
Take it all leave me nothing
In a few years time I'll be free
Then I can begin again
To make my life my own
For now I will live for you
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 12:09 AM UTC
I climbed to the top of a mountain
And rolled back down in a barrel of oil
I threw a plastic bottle in the ocean
Just to see what would happen
I visited the tropics, both of them
And littered in each one
I am the creator of worlds
And I am the destroyer
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 2:29 AM UTC
Why so serious all the time
Why do the poems never rhyme
What's the meaning of
"2 AM
Standing outside
Smoking a cigarette
Talking to a trash bin"
Why do we have to act so wise
I'd rather set a poem to music
Than to set it on your eyes
But here we are because I messed up
And got no talent for anything but the abstract
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 10:33 PM UTC
Wherefore art my purpose in life
I'm filled with passion, love, and fight
Bursting with spirit until I'm overcome
By social anxiety and a long line at the grocery store
I want to be good but I'm without determination
I've been taught leadership, sure
And I don't want to be a follower
But do I want to make others into followers?
Is it possible to do good and not be a hypocrite
To organize people for a purpose
Without taking advantage of them
Without rewarding their efforts fairly?
Verily I remain a thinker, a ponderer
And regrettably not a man of action
It must be a moral quandary that keeps me at home
Because I could never admit that it's only fear of failure
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 9:59 PM UTC
Reinaldo was the name they gave the great white elephant
Who came to clear the jungles around Sao Paulo
A clever notion that because Reinaldo was born in the jungle
Any jungle would do just fine, Brazilian or Siamese made no difference
Just as clever was the notion that because I was a black man, educated
I would do just fine directing other black men to do work, English or Portuguese made no difference
Was I truly so much a fool, twice over?
Reinaldo occasionally was afflicted with slothfulness
Some of the men thought it was from lack of **** and whip
I was of a mind that it was due to lack of companionship
It was costly enough to ship one giant beast across a great sea
I left a wife, in Maryland, whom I never loved and who never loved me
I admit before the plan was in motion I never considered that Reinaldo could have a family
Sometimes, I wonder, did he have a wife who never loved him?
Loneliness became a common theme in our new home away from home
And Reinaldo and I became friends, at least I thought of him fondly
As far as I could say, of all the men he responded best to me
At times it seemed a load of lumber was hauled as a personal favor
For the handler too soft to handle with fear and anger
But as much as loneliness was a theme, so was change, and death
The lifespan of an elephant compares to the lifespan of men
Were this scheme of mine to have worked as desired
I could have sent for a cow, and made Reinaldo a sire
Soon it was revealed that slothfulness was a symptom of an elephant young, healthy and wise
Who sensed not his own, but a friend's imminent demise
Now I am left to wonder how Reinaldo will fare in a world stranger than I could have known
His softest handler and only friend bedridden, waiting for my disease to take its final toll
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 6:28 PM UTC
Sometimes I neglect the people I love
And who are good to me and never let me down
Because I’m caught up on the people who failed me
Why do we all but lose ourselves over people like that
If the energy I put into trying to help
Someone who won’t even help themselves
Was spent on the people that deserve it
I would be person of the year every year
When there’s nothing left to talk about
When you’ve said the same thing over and over
And you aren’t getting anywhere because no one is listening
What do you do?
It’s like talking to a wall
Asking it to move
Don’t remember when the wall went up
But it’s there and there’s no way around it
What do you do
Try to climb over it break it down
Year maybe for a while until you realize you’re getting no where
Then you do the inevitable, walk away
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 6:21 PM UTC
Like a lion in the desert
Scrawny and rat-like but still fierce and intimidating
Thirsty but miles from water and used to it
Outcast but used to it
Dangerous and on the verge of death but used to it
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 11:35 PM UTC
Be open-minded and admit the possibility
That some things are objectively wrong
We all live in a constant state of gray area
I see you pretty often, maybe once every week or so
For a moment our bubbles come very close to overlapping
But they so far have always held firm
Which is, in one respect, kind of amazing
Yet in another, to be expected
Our bubbles are made of rubber and concrete
Our lives are so different - we’re separated by
Class, gender, age, ethnicity and health history
Different in almost every way you could imagine
Save for location, which again is amazing
If we ever step out of our bubbles one day
And I actually hope we do
It will be uncomfortable, I imagine, and also
Potentially dangerous for both of us
But it could turn out great
Most people ask themselves I guess
Whether it’s worth the risk
And say no and they probably make assumptions
And I so far haven’t made too many about you
Although to make none is impossible and so of that I am proud
Some things might be wrong even if
Everyone does them and even if
You or I do them constantly
Without an ounce of guilt
It’s possible anyway
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 7:25 PM UTC
When I look into your eyes
I see the jungle
When I watch you go mad
I fear for my life
When I see you fall in love
I’m inspired
Don’t come near me
You’re going to catch me up
In your whirlwind fury
I’m afraid I’m afraid
Do you hear the drum beat?
Drums of war
I hit the floor
And I’m afraid
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 5:47 PM UTC