Am i depressed or a realist
Focusing on an image
That was given since birth
That was written in the dirt
And started out as a dream
Which will always be ideal
Though someone calls it real
And am i overreacting
When i say the world is full of fatal attraction
Hidden by constant distraction
Repeatedly ******** speaks to me
And release the truth that it is based on the infamy
Of poverty
Poverty of the mind
The mind’s not rich
Not a gold mine
But i still call it mine
Simply cuz it’s all i have
Yet its a plantation for a slave to the rhythm of rollercoaster emotion
That hosting a bunch of insecurities
Because there’s no safe in a world that’s not secure
definitely
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 10:49 PM UTC
Wash your mouth
And scrub those words
Remove the ****
From your ***
Remove the *****
Because they eventually obliterate the ****
Stop being a *****
Or else you will be ****** to dying and redying
with the fear of retrying.
Wanna get rid of the crap?
Here's some soap
To wash your language
And your mouth
So you can kiss your ************ goodbye every morning
Only to wait to take
that freaking bus
To hell
And while you're there
Take a class in how not to be a *****
And they have after-school lessons
In not being a **** either
Just remember
On your way home
Stop at the stupid *** grocery store
And ask that ******* Bob
To hand you the ******* soap
To wash your words, mouth, language and yourself say the same filthy **** that this poem has been telling you not to do ever since you started reading it
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 10:58 AM UTC
Dreams are deadly
Because they fuel Expectations
And all Expectations bring
Are Disappointments
And Disappointments
**** Hope
And the brutal ****** of Hope
Means bowed heads
But no closed eyes
because we know we are already slaves
So we quit the eye contact
And closed eyes
Lead to Sleep
And Sleep leads to Dreams
And we all know that Dreams are deadly
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 10:49 AM UTC
Our Father, who art in heaven
How long have you been asleep?
Did the angels message you about the word on the street?
Were you busy rubbing your eyes during the Holocaust?
Took a quick leak during slavery?
Blink after the project in Manhattan?
Go on break while the Native Americans were slaughtered by people
who in your name
pulled out guns at men, women and children?
Turned to check on an angel babe
during the Civil Rights movement?
Was it really your will that was done?\
Forgive me for my judgment
I am very aware that others judge me
including yourself
but also forgive me for questioning
because you seem to have given unclear instructions
according to the humans that lost the real message in translation
Lead me to love
and deliver me from hate
because it is so hard to give
without expecting anything in return
The kingdoms is yours
this planet is yours
and my body is mine
But I understand that our temples could be desecrated
disrespected
our reputations tarnished
and our beliefs and truth questioned
I know you are powerful
but can we see eye to eye?
can we
So at least I know the fight that seems to be forever and ever
is actually worth?
A woman not amen
wants to see your blueprints
and wants to know
if you still have faith
in a bunch of trespassers and debtors
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 10:44 AM UTC
Don't even know how much I'm allowed to write
so I put up a fight
with sleep every night
when the reruns return to the TV screen
and the family's asleep
and there's no need for the word on the street because everything happens...at night
From the bed bug bites, to the insomnia I have because
I can't sleep in fear that I won't wake up again
and that I'll go too easy and too quiet into that goodnight
I don't want to miss a thing with Aerosmith
so I keep my eyes open wide
Fingertips prying open the closing doors to my sight
I don't even blink because I fear that I will miss the shadows that chase each other on my ceiling
Seeing predator and prey dance in musical melody
revealed by the headlights from the cars
that move on the street and in and out driveways
My family misses all of this
because they sleep at night
Maybe insomnia is a blessing,
but it's not purely blessed
because my body reacts with a longing for sleep
the same way I long for romance
It's a curse
but a pleasant curse
because everything
happens at night
and I'm one of the lucky, unlucky few to see it
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 10:22 AM UTC
****
I wish I could bite you the way you bit me
I wish I had hit you back when you tried to fight me
But no*
no*
I just let you walk over me
I wish I had the chance to knock you out
But I know if I had the chance
I wouldn't do it
Karma is not mine
But it ***** to see you living this happy life
Guilt-free
While you talk
And say stuff about me
As if I am the bad guy
HONESTLY
I don't care about you
I just want to see you pay
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
I am who I am with no strings attached
Yet I have strings coming from my back
And my handler does not want to let go
I am sometimes a hypocrite
I know that
But my handler convinces me of my false innocence
Puts me in an eternal trap
I have power that is grand
But it is all hard for me to understand
So I sit back and cry because I am bounded by invisible chains
Held down in the chair of thoughts
And the unnecessary feeling of helplessness takes over
My handler sits in MY THRONE
Yet has the nerve to throw stones at my temple
Hits me with words of rocks and mocks me like a court jester
"Poor me",I say
"Poor me", I cry
"Poor me", I wail
Then I stop....
I then open up my eyes and see a mirror where my handler once sat
I walk towards it slowly and cautiously, but seeing that it is me
I run with enthusiasm to the red velvet seat
and I plop my bottom on the chair
I grasp the chair arms and with a smile on my face
I put on my amethyst crown and smile face to face with my kingdom
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 2:45 PM UTC
Gracias al hombre que quiere mi
Cuando no quiero mi
Pero, estoy muy triste
No puedo amor una persona
porque no puedo amor mi
Necesito un momento en el tiempo
que Los Dios me dan
Necesito a creer en la capicidad del corazon
El rey es mi imaginacion
Mi imaginacion me quiere matar
No quiero morir
No quiero llorar
Quiero reir y sonreir
Al hombre que quiere mi...
Es importa que tu quedas para mi
Quedes cuando estoy buena, bonita, y sincera
Porque ahora estoy desagradable, fea, y
Digo muchas mentiras
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 11:56 AM UTC
From the treetops of the NYC
To the sandy platform of Coney Island beach
Poetry is a refuge that can be reached
For the heavy hearted that has no one to preach
About the calming relief it gives when the skies turn grey
Or the times where I bow my head in dismay.
When my back has gone out
Poetry plays the role of a crutch
When I feel like life is becoming too much.
A great friend indeed
Yet only called when in need.
I administer my feelings into its thick skin like a drug.
In return I feel more loved
Poetry, the button I call release.
When pressed my problems become peace.
A reflection of me
Sometimes, my imagination finds its way in between.
But at the end of the day,
Poetry is in the bed I lay
Poetry is in the food I eat
Whether or not it is crusty, sugary, and sweet.
Poetry is in each and every name
For each letter has a meaning.
Poetry lives in us all,
Regardless of how much you rise or fall.
There will always be that rhythmic flow
For poetry comes and never goes.
What to me does poetry bring?
Creates me as if I was a bird and gives me wings
Let me soar until everything lives below
But has more places for me to go.
I am poetry and poetry is me.
We make up the sides and in between the numerous parts of me.
That is poetry.
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 4:59 PM UTC
In the midst of the storm,
there in a back bend is a rainbow.
In the fire in hell,
stands tall an angel.
At every end, is a new beginning.
When there is one door only for exit,
there is always a way to enter in.
At the top of every dark abyss,
you always look up to a light.
When the feeling of giving up arrives,
there is always a part that is willing to fight.
With the help from others, a baby's tears
become sudden laughter.
After every fairytale witch's death, there is a happily ever after.
Life itself is a ying yang of wonders. After the scorching day
Comes a cooling rain
Accompanied by a loud and frightening thunder.
Every scary moment in life becomes a tale to tell
how in the past was bad, but now you're doing well.
In every bad situation,
comes out something good.
In the middle of crossfire,
a vibrant rose grows in the hood.
So remember, every beginning comes to an end
As we go through life adding and subtracting friends.
While we continue to talk about our suffering times,
we all find that day where everyone comes together and smiles. :)
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 4:54 PM UTC