I didn't parachute into 2019,
My journey started in 2018.
I walked through obstacles
And jumped many hurdles.
I swam across mighty rivers,
And was attacked by alligators.
I lost nearly everything,
And had absolutely nothing.
of course I ran out of money,
And babes stopped calling me honey.
I was falsely accused
And often times abused.
When I became penniless,
I also became homeless.
There were times when I sobbed,
when I got yanked and flogged.
Many times I vowed to give up,
But I had to continue to the top.
Some days there were storms
But I had to hang with both arms.
At times I had no calories to burn,
And obviously didn't know where to turn.
So now you know how I got here,
I didn't parachute into this year.

       IvanBrooksPoetry©
01/01/2019
#Bassapoet©

2019 will be the year of the dragon.
Or the battlefield of Saigon.
Choose the former or latter,
Whatever you do,do it better.

In 2019, claim your heart desires.
Work and do whatever it requires.
And Move with complete boldness.
In almost everything,look for goodness.

In 2019, just expect your bounty.
To everyone,live without animosity.
Set your table under the full moon,
Your meal will be ready very soon.

In 2019 , live below the Morongo sky,
Don't sit with a box of napkins and cry.
You can take the path to exuberance,
Choose to dwell in absolute abundance.

In 2019,do away with negativity,
And shun those with toxicity.
To everyone,try to be a friend
Remember,Only help if you can.

In 2019, wish for the best of everything.
Whatever you do ,do stop at nothing.
There'll be some setbacks and frustration,
Just believe that all will come to fruition.  

In 2019, be positive and cheer,
Celebrate with a glass of beer.
In 2019, love yourself the best,
And forget about the rest.


IvanBrooksPoetry©
30/12/2018

Yesterday I lost a poem.
It took me hours to write.
So,has anyone seen a poem?
I titled it Aurora Borealis.
It was brief and beautiful,
Well written and insightful.

The poem was immaculate
Done in tribute to nature.
This is very weird I know,
Because it's never been done?
So pardon my action,
Result of my frustration.

So,if you see a green light,
Cocooned in ghostly neon,
Bordered in a frosty white dress,
Flash dancing across the sky,
Do have me informed at once.
Or sit back,watch and be amazed.

For those who need to know,
Aurora is like nature's showgirl.
Some call her the Northern light.
She appears when it's chilly cold,
When the night is quiet and starry,
She comes out like a luminous ghost.

IB-Poetry©
20/12/2018

There's ***** in every lady
and gangster in every gentleman.
walk with caution
and watch your action.

There's a killer in every
White police man in America.
And a race victim from California to Minnesota.Watch the new!

IB-Poetry©
17/12/2018

I write not for glory.
I just tell my story.
Sometimes I motivate
Other times I educate
Most times I inspire
Oftentimes I rewire.

I write not to entertain
I do it often to train.
Sometimes to impact
Other times to inject.
Most times I straighten
Other times I enlighten.

I write not for pleasure
Neither do I for leisure.
Sometimes to showcase.
Other times to erase,
The misconception
About my poetic vocation.

I write not at all to boost
But just to do my utmost.
Sometimes it's for a cause,
And most likely not because
I have nothing else to do.
This is my life,so I have to!


    IB-POETRY ©
12/17/2018

Nothing scares me anymore.
I have been hurt to the core,
Hated by so many people,
For the spoils of my hustle.

I have lived in darkness,
And experienced sadness,
Waddled in disappointments
Victimized by false statements.

I have seen evil humans
Been attacked by demons.
One thing that's certain,
I will never ever give in.

Like the wet monsoon rains
And old locomotive trains,
My lines are uniquely powerful.
And for this, I remain grateful.

In spite of my misfortunes,
My name's not on these gravestones.
Like the mighty balboa tree
I stand strong and free.

IB-Poetry ©
15/12/2018

E is for everything,
Except for one thing:
An empty bag can't stand
Go ahead, try if you can!

E is for everlasting,
Except for one thing:
Nothing lasts forever,
Which is true, however.

E is for Planet Earth,
She is in bad health.
Courtesy of global warming,
Slowly, its core is burning!

E is for the E-cigarettes,
Produced by hypocrites,
Who thinks everyone is a fool,
By making smoking look cool.


IB-Poetry ©
2/12/2018

Give me food stamps or twenty bucks
I will feed a few hungry mouths.
Give me a laptop or pen and paper
I'll enlighten a million bright minds.

Give me one thousand swords
I'll train and build a rebel army.
I'll rather take twenty textbooks
And transform a generation of minds.

Give me a golf club membership,
I'll trade it for a couple of laptops.
I'll rather you give out scholarships
So underprivileged kids can learn.

Give me a day with Donald Trump,
I'll rather an hour with Dr.William Barber
Being part of the Moral Monday movement
Marching for voters rights and equality.


IB-Poetry©
27/11/2018

Dear future,
Before the rapture,
I was born here,
There was greenery everywhere.
Before the great wars,
It was the advent of smart cars,
And information technology,
Many people embraced diversity,
In some places in the old world.
Of corse I lived to be old
It was the era of smartphones
And the invention Of drones.
This was before the end,
When beaches still had sand
And the great oceans still had fishes
That we cooked them in nice dishes.

Dear future
I was here,
Before the great flood
We grew our food.
We ate meat
and grew wheat.
The earth had trees
And honey bees.
Flowers blossomed in summer
In case you may wonder
What happened to us,
Earthlings lost focus
And abused nature.
That was the era of pop culture,
When everything was good
And few were in a good mood,
And ninty nine percent were poor,
Few lived in huts without a door
Yet they managed a smile,
And many walked the extra mile.
Even though situations were dire
Few managed to love and share.

IB-Poetry©
26/11/2018

To live, Embrace Peace
Walk with Ease.
To everyone,
Speak in a soft tone.
To people, show love,
One day you'll need love.

©IB-Poetry
11/2/2018

Are you sick
Are you rich,
Are you happy,
Are you healthy?

Are you sad,
Is your day bad,
Are you stuck in love,
That you can't move?

Do you need a man in your life?
Or a very good wife?
Do you want children
To complete your plan?

Why are you crying,
Instead of just laughing?
Are you only wishing
Or working or praying?

Is your life a constant struggle,
Are you on the hustle?
Have you lost hope,
And can no longer cope?

Yes or no, it's gonna be okay
Today is a brand new day.
Whether you believe it or not,
Have faith,it's all you got!


IB-Poetry©
26/11/2018

Every man has a calling
And my nitch is writing.
Mama gave me life and my name,
But poetry completes me.

Bless your soul Queen,
For my path is green
And my deeds are pure,
I couldn't ask for more.

I'm not a president.
But my words are important.
I don't need bodyguards
Only some pens and pads.

I'm not an astronaut
But a poetic juggernaut.
No ,I'm not a pianist,
But I play the note of a realist.

I'm a wordsmith and sageist,
That's better than a freak or sadist.
Call me a vessel of wisdom
Or frown and rot in boredom.

I may not be a musician
I spin words like a magician.
I'm a deep thinker and poet,
A writer and future laureate.

Jah gave me a unique gift
I'll therefore use it to uplift.
With it I can write, motivate.
Inspire, impact and create.

©IB-Poetry
25/11/2018

All year, you waited on Black Friday
Just to Feed your Indulgence.
After, comes broke Saturday,
Which is partly spent in silence.
Next is Prayerful Sunday
Off to church for solace.
Next comes Monday, a workday.
Wearing things you don't need.
Home stuck with material things
You've been finessed by greed
Yet your task is what today brings.
At home, you hear the bell as it rings,
And look at the watch on your hand.
A man strikes on the guitar strings
Then a song raised by another friend.
At least all your friends are here
Time to party and enjoy yourself
Bring me some wine over here
Time to celebrate my materialistic life!

©IB-Poetry
24/11/2018

Chilly Cold Winds,
As nature unwinds
Stormy days
Traffic delays,
Frosty windows
Noisy Snowplows.
I hate this season,
For one particular reason,
I'm an African.
I'll do what I can
Just to pay my bills
I'll do what it entails
Until thou kingdom comes,
Until earth consumes my bones,
I'll forever hate winter.
That cold soft powder,
That ghostly white creature,
The nuance of mother nature.

© IB-Poetry
21/11/2018

God gave me a gift
And I'll use it to uplift,
To inspire and motivate
To impact and create.
Maybe I'm a vessel
Maybe I'm an axil
Through whose works
Quotations, Poetry or books,
Generations will be awakened
And subsequently emboldened.
To rise up and make changes
And produce juices like oranges
And shine like lights on a dark street.
Oh how sweet it tis, oh how sweet
To know that I have a part to play,
To know I can tell a kid to not sway
That no matter what really happens,
Hope is a parachute that opens
For those who take a leap of faith.
No matter what you have to deal with,
There's a God somewhere who cares,
So never give in to your fears.

© IB-Poetry
21/12/2018

At school
I wasn't too kool
And I wasn't tall
And Didn't know all.
In statue, I  was short,
But yet I fought.

On the playground,
I joked around
But I wasn't a fool
Always kept my cool.
When I got beat on
I made peace and moved on.

I came from a community
Known for poverty,
Yet mama tried.
At night she cried
Asking God to bless us
And help us to focus.

Mama was the bone of my family
So she woke up very early,
Papa had a side chick
So his moves were quick.
Back then I didn't know,
Everything was kinda slow.

On the field, I was a defender
Who didn't spare my own brother.
On my team, I played number two
No matter where, when or who,
I always defended my position
To me, it was part of my mission.

As a kid, I loved to go to church
Even though we didn't have much,
Yet Mama pressed my Sunday's best
Just so I could fit in with the rest.
At church, I prayed to my savior
For our hardship to be over.

On the streets, we had big bothers
Who protected us as our mothers
So we never went astray.
For this we had to somehow pay.
For good street education
And a guaranteed protection.

As a kid I had peace of mind
To my peers, I was nice and kind
So it was until the advent of war
I left home and went very far.
Crossing foreign land and sea,
Going as far as the eyes could see.

So this here is part of my story
Told in the form of poetry.
This is what transpired back there
I hope I'll be read everywhere.
This is my exile letter,
The story of how I got over.

©IB-Poetry
12/11/2018

I don't know how to swim.
Yet God in his infinite wisdom,
placed before me all sorts of challenges,mountains,valleys,
fences, muddy ponds, deceitful human beings and ungrateful friends. .All because He knows I'll scale them, like a wall and still stand tall.
He knows my strengths and abilities
my weak sides and my strong sides.
He knows what I'm able to withstand.
So He gave me a beautiful mind And made sure I wasn't born blind.
And as an added bonus, two hands.
With this, I can take a pen and pad
And effectively pen away like a scribe
And describe the ugly sides of life,
turn pains into a true love story,
And write a vow for my sweet wife.
I can turn tragedy into a nice poetry
Whilst remaining sound and stoic.
That's why I'm not a world swimmer
but a humble man and a poet.

©IB-Poetry
11/4/2018

Poetry is my choice of drug.
It gets me feeling very high,
Until I leap like a toad frog,
And make me feel alright.

Poetry is my feel good drug.
I Sniff for ideas like a dog,
It warms me up like a coffee mug
And make me float like a log.

Poetry is my ultimate drug.
I hit it hard, line after line.
Afterward, I just hit the rug,
Feeling very good and smile.

Poetry is my version of ecstasy
I party wild with many words.
And like a poet going crazy,
I just imagine and flaunt words.


© IB-Poetry
31/10/2018

I cry very hard every night
For the land of my forefathers.
Once called Africa's golden child
Woe unto them that hurt you.
Like a child gunned down,
Somebody shot you in your prime
Your soul cries out for help
Purging the nectar of hate
Joggling the sack of opportunity
Looted out by pseudo politicians
And devoured by corrupt wolves
Who talks as revolutionaries
Paid with very huge salaries.
Hungry kids with sad eyes
Eyes stained with tears line
tears lines that know no tears.
Dried lips and Weak bodies
That can't stand neither walk.
Even if the did, where will they walk?
For the roads are now no more,
Washed away by corrupt erosion.
Ills of yesterday, void of compassion.
Look beyond everything, see the poor
Stuck in the black muddy ponds.
Those real victims of poverty, poverty
Tattooed on the souls of the poor.
Poor people who went en-mass
To the ballot boxes and voted,
For a change that's yet to come.
Waiting From the mangrove swamps
Squinting from the shines of the elite,
Dwarfed by brand new mansions
Gift from the country giant to himself. I'll pray every day for the masses,
Wishing the real Massiah would come.


IB-Poetry©
26/11/2018

How many poems have we written,
How many more will we write?
How many matches have we stricken,
How many more will we strike?

How many candles have we burned
In search of knowledge and wisdom?
How much in total have we learned
Do accused poets deserve freedom?

How many words have we really used
How many letters have we composed
How many plagiarists have been sued
How many of us have been accused

From other poets and other writers,
How many lines have we ever stolen?
Why are poets such horrible liars,
When last was this secret rule broken?

©IvanBrooksPoetry
15/10/2018

When the land is arid
and the ponds are dried up,
Dying frogs find moisture.
They hop from place to place.
Cocooned in comfort,
We wine and dine.
Indifferent to the pains
And the suffering of the poor frogs.
Fun times for human!
One day mother nature strikes,
The opposite happens
and humans are drowning...
Humans begin to struggle and clamore
Dying by the thousands.
Frogs watch us floating bye
Fun times for frogs!

©IvanBrooksPoetry
15/10/3918

You can't silence the church's bell,
So, a poet can't be silenced, never!
He was born with deep stories to tell.
Even after life, his words are forever!

You can stop the flow of the Nile
Therefore you can't alter its direction.
Like tempering with Monalisa's smile,
call it an affront and abomination!

You can't tell the tales of the pyramid
Therefore you can't decipher Egypt.
Like the ocean and the mermaid,
It's a wildcard and mysterious script!

You can't see the end of the universe
Therefore you can't fully fathom it.
It's infinite, deep and immense,
That's why there's always a star to spit.

IB-poetry©
10/10/2018

Everyone of us will die someday
Death cares less about personality.
For the appointed ones,it's on the way
Death cares less if you rule a country .

Or possess fine clothes and blings
For those destined for today,he'll come
Be ready if the club of death swings,
Prepared or not,you're going home!

So weep not for me when I'm gone
It's not a bad thing to sleep forever.
It means my brief time here is done
So mourn me not my dear daughter.

For yourself cry hard and be prepared
For a visitation from death's hands.
Be brave,be strong and don't be afraid,
To depart from your ancestral lands.

Fear not death, death's fear just passed
Those who live very well will die
So does the poor, hungry and stressed
Soon we all will be on the other side.


© IvanBrooksPoetry
31/8/2918

Thank you hello poetry
for making me feel worthy.
Here I can write
And can freely create.
I need no validation
and self-promotion.
It's a unique platform
or a stage to perform
On my own ,to rewind
Time or say what's on my mind.
Here I always feel fine
Once I have the available time
Here I shake no hands
Match to no bands
But when I make a mistake
Somebody wide awake
Inboxes me and respectfully says
You might want to take a look at this
I seriously like this
So I honestly pray
each and every day
to stay
And be very active
And have another perspective
I feel connected
Here ,I feel respected
the emotion, the hype
Just my place and my type
For completion of this process
to other platforms, no disrespect
from poets here, I get more respect!

© IvanBrooksPoetry
29/8/2018

On the battlefield of life,
the good and the bad are inseparable,
the lifestyles of the rich and poor incomparable,
the willpower of the determined unquenchable,
the combined forces of God's blessings and hard work unstoppable.


©IvanBrooksPoetry
29/8/2018

Two-tongued and long,
Slander and smooth,
Naked and wicked.
Moves hissing,
Delivers kisses of death,
With tongue flicking.
A revered reptile.
Lives in dead piles of woods
In trees, and deserts,
The cold earth's hugger
Crawls like nature's gymnast.
Never has he ever laughed
Never made any friends
Never trusted by anybody.
Sadly he has a king,
Black like me
But has no soul
he lives in Africa
And in parts of Asia
He bites and hisses
But I don't bite
only on my food
He doesn't chew.
I do, and I swallow.
Him, his preys whole
I despise him.
I have many reasons
He social-engineered his ways
Around Adam"s woman
One day, he ****** eve up
With smooth lies
What this even implies,
Empirically, logically,
I really don't know,
All I know, I was told!
Hold on, I know not
From whence it came,
  Maybe from the good book,
That's a Long and twisted story.
It says he used his tongue
Not on her as a woman,
But to break her home.
Adam was a **** fool,
To leave that girl home alone.
Unannounced, he came in kool
Using his double tongues.
Was she kinda blind?
He isn't even cute.
This story I can't refute
Yet millions have concurred  
I'm not a friend.
Not of the story.
Of him, the notorious,
The venomous
The infamous heel biter
Once again, I hate him
Never was a friend
Never will be,
Because of that poor woman.
He's the First home breaker,
Frickin' liar
Cursed by God
His head to be severed
Using a sword,
A stone or stick,
Day or night,
Right or wrong,
Because of poor little eve
Adam's kids will strike
At his tiny little head.
Death to the serpent!
Eternal condemnation
Even if he repents,
Strike his elongated body
With a double-edged cutlass.
Don't you ever feel sorry
For this sorry ***.
Chinese add him cooked
segments by segments to curry.
He has no class
He Kills at will.
I hate him very much
And I do have my reasons.
He's the infamous snake
The symbol of evil
Father of confusion
With evil intention
Perpetual guide
To eternal hell
From the garden of Eden
Who gave Eve a heartbreak.
He's toxic and venomous.

©IvanBrooksPoetry
29/8/2018

Poetry is a blank canvas
From the start, you'll be nervous.
Remember, it's about creativity,
And styles and individuality.

Let your inner voice paint
Try your best even if you can't.
Some will be like a blurry picture
And some will even lack structure.

Some will turn up so beautiful
And some will be very wonderful.
Just choose the right color line
And let your muse shine.

Talk to it like a pretty lady
Even if it appears ugly.
Make each and every line thine,
Make it slay beyond the borderline.

Appreciate it in the morning,
Worship it in the evening.
Do it daily or do it hourly,
Do it weekly or do it monthly.

Water it like a flower
Give your words power.
Roll it like Snoop does his joints,
And smoke it like weekend's blunts.


©IvanBrooksPoetry
23/8/2018

If I can't stand and say something
About injustice, hunger and poverty,
I can at least do one special thing,
I can write a very beautiful poetry.

If I can't fight modern-day slavery,
I can write and bring awareness.
My pen is like a mighty artillery
That can help stop this wickedness.

If my frame is short for me to be seen,
My mind is loud enough to be heard.
It can take me places I've never been
And give me a shelter and my bread.

If I don't have fine clothes and jewelry,
I have deep wisdom and intelligence.
That enables me to write good poetry
Capable of taking me out of decadence.

If I don't have fine cars and houses,
I have from Jah a blessed assurance.
And peace inaccessible by noises,
So I say thanks for life and Providence.

©IvanBrooksPoetry
22/8/2018

I woke up very happy
This joy isn't for me alone,
But for nearly everybody
Who calls this world home.

I woke up energized
To continue my journey
For me and those marginalized
For the poor who has no money.

I woke up determined
To continue with the hustle
My exuberance remains untamed
In spite of my personal struggle.

I woke up feeling blessed
For dear life and its woes.
I, yesterday was depressed
Today I care less about what life does.

I woke up very pumped
Determined to do better.
Yesterday I erred and stumbled,
Excellence today is what I'm after.

I woke up feeling rejuvenated
To change the poetic narratives
So I remain resolute and obligated
Hoping my poetry will impact lives.

©IvanBrooksPoetry
22/8/2018

Some people will do just anything to get something;
Now I know why success always has many stories ;
Some people will go wherever to get whatever,
Even if cyclones are tearing at the core of the deep skies.
Some people will work the hardest to get the finest;
Call it vanity but steadfast his will, even until he dies.

©IvanBrooksPoetry
21/8/2018

There are bloggers and selfie-takers,
Know the difference.
There are noisemakers and peacemakers,
I can show you the evidence.
There are admirers and haters.
Be especially mindful.
There are well-wishers and supporters.
Be very careful
The are naysayers and yeasayers
Always be aware. 
There are brothers and brother's keeper,
Always ready to take care.
There are destroyers and fixers,
Separate them.
There are mixers and blenders,
We need them.
There are writers and publishers,
They need each other.

There are readers and proofreader.
Both read for different reasons.
There are bystanders and onlookers.
Both will be watching.
There are movers and shakers,
One of them has the edge.
There are dreams snatches and vision busters,
Be on the lookout.
There are ghost whisperers and Ghostbusters,
Both have connection to a ghost.
There are buyers and sellers,
Each one benefits.
There are singers and there are dancers.
Everyone provides some entertainment.

©IvanBrooksPoetry
21/8/2018

We are all here today
Courtesy of yesterday.
So fear not tomorrow,
It's a gift from God to borrow.

Take a look at everything,
Do you miss anything?
Everything, everyone here today,
Began their journies yesterday.
  
Fear not what tomorrow brings,
It could be some good or bad things.
Things allowed by yesterday
Just to manifest themselves today.

Yesterday is the same as today,
It's just a day that has passed away.
Though it takes a part of us with it,
Tomorrow is what we all await.

©IvanBrooksPoetry
21/8/2018

Poetry is part of my story
So I write not for glory.
I care about it like my health,
And protect it like my wealth.

Talking about wealth ,I have none.
But if just in case I get some,
It really wouldn't matter.
For me I think peace of mind is better,

So I pen away my thoughts.
Leaving no rooms for any doubts...
My emotions,
And my inspiration.

My frustration,
And desperation.
Through it all,
I tried being stoic and rational.

Even though my pains
Even when it rains.
I write not about a special thing,
My work covers anything.

Sometimes it's about love,
Or about the issues I can't solve.
The things I take to God in prayers
The things others take to soothsayers.

© IvanBrooksPoetry
21/8/2018

A dream can give a poor peasant a chance to be with a beautiful woman, in a pristine environment,
living a life of privilege.
A dream can make him have a bowl of royal ice cream on a hot summer day.
A dream can make her wealthy dad bless their marriage.
A dream can change a peasant's life.

Dreams can come true
Only if you believe.
A dream can transform the life of a homeless child.There can be love, care a warm bed and full bellie
and protection.

A dream can make a Baptist Preacher
See a bright future of his country.
A country polarized by racial segregation and social divides, injustice inequality.
A dream in which his children won't be judged
by their skin colors, rather by the contents of their characters.

©IvanBrooksPoetry
21/8/2018

Music is my greatest inspiration.
My mind comes alive when I listen to jazz.
I can easily pen the product of my imagination
When I hear sound from the rhythm or bass.

Hope is the bedrock of my motivation.
My everything is in the hands of Almighty God who sits beyond the stars and constellation.
For in him I hope according to his holy word.

Love is the center of my emotion.
It has cost me happy and sad tears.
Brotherhood is the reason I abhor altercation,
It has created hatred amongst peers.

Peace is the reason I believe in unification.
In unity, strong success is always shown.
War is the main artery of death and destruction,
It leaves damages and orphans on their own.

©IvanBrooksPoetry
21/8/2018

Poetry is food
Food is energy.
Therefore it's good
To embrace the synergy.

Poetry is life
Life is very short
Find a wife
Let love fill your heart.

Poetry is a message
Message sent to us,
Wrapped as a package.
To unwrap, we've to focus.

Poetry covers everything
Everything we know.
Yet it's centered around one thing.
That which I can't talk about now.

©IvanBrooksPoetry
21/8/2018

I know not from whence my inspirations cometh.
I believe I was chosen from the time of my birth.
Alone and undisturbed, I have strange visitation,
Embellished with beautiful stories delivered via imagination.
Even the mental drought known as writer's block,
Goes away the very moment the spirits knocks.
Thanks to my late Queen mother who told me stories,
And tales of our ancestor's conquest of adversities.
I am the last of the great Grios from my tribe.
The spirits will always be my source of inspiration and guide.
I come alive at night when the entire world sleeps,
That's when the best ideas and loose words creep.
These words I process as part of my solemn obligation.
As custodian of Ancient history and its dissemination.
Call me a poet because of spoken word and great poetry
In actuality, I'm the last Grio sent to write our ancient oral history.

IvanBrooksPoetry©️