Being black is the essence of strength
The ones my ancestors relied on to survive
When forcibly shipped across the ocean's length
Hanging on to only hope just to keep alive .

Being black is the essence of performance
The ones we put up at the mighty Apollo
When jazz and blues fill hearts with romance
As Chuck Berry's feet moved like flamingo .

Being black is the essence of toughness
Like those possesed by the giant baobab
Comes rain, storms, it stands in calmness
Defiant just like the sons of Queen Habib .

Being Black is the essence of athleticism
Portrayed by LeBron James, Jordan and Tiger
Gifted Black brothers born with enthusiasm
Black Essence runs deep as the River Niger .

Long after the sun goes down over my grave
And the earth becomes my final resting place ,
Long after my soul has left its mortal enclave
My words will abound from earth into outer space  .

Long after my friends stopped thinking about me
And not a mention of me until my birthday,
Right when the 'late' is added to my name
While my departed soul awaits the judgement day .

Long after I 'm gone and my soul has departed
My great name will continue to softly echo
For ages to come, I will continue to be quoted
From the great beyond my words will spell macho.

Long after I'm gone, my ideas will go on motivating
And all the fruits of my labor will abound in others
For ages to come my messages will keep resonating
From the roots of my poetry to the minds of my brothers.

Long after I'm gone , my works will be widely read
And analyzed for their richness and very deep contents
Long after I've sojourned , about me it will be said ,
He who lays here loved poetry, albeit many other talents .

Long after I have left this temporal phase of my life
And my tired old bones have become a pile of dust ,
Long after I've made widow of my beautiful wife
My great name shall live on and never ever become lost !

#IvanBrookspoetry©️✍️
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Once you came disguised as a playground friend
She innoceently accepted your requests
Sadly She even lend you a helping hand
Unbeknownst to her , you fed off her ******* .

You once came quietly like a stealthy beast
Bringing all your elusive demons along
But be warned this time , to say the least
This time You got your target all wrong ,

One night she roared with a new battle song
Armed , sassy,fully grown,and ready for madness
Like a true fighter,she was now battle strong
The girl was no more a cub ,she was now a Lioness !

Be ready for war, be ready to lose vital arteries
Awaiting you now is a mighty force beyond you
A force that'll neutralize and dry your batteries
Take note and stay in your very own lane boo boo .

She has an audience and a stage and this here podium
On which to stand and let out some of the steams
Brewing for ages via spoken word and this medium
Listen carefully , do you hear her audience and the screams ?

She has taken back her space , her power and her life
She found her own calling , evident in her poetic prowess
That little girl is now a mom and someday going to be wife.
The girl is no more a victim ,she is now a full grown lioness .

#IvanBrookspoetry@✍️ #vanguardofLiberianpoetry©️

Are we talking too much more
about love than loving too much ?
So until we talk a little bit less about
it and do a little bit more about it ,
The world and those in need
of a little bit more dose of love,the
greatest of human emotions ,
will forever lack the much needed love .

Are we overly obsessed with the phenomena
called twitter and following more celebrities ,
who don't need us or the superfluous attentions
we give them ? So until we stop following
these one percent famous people,who are
unaware of our existence, and concern
ourselves more and become preoccupied
with the plights and destitution of the ninety percent
needy people in the world ,they'll forever
lack the love and care they need .  

Are we feeding the greedy politicians
and the government with our taxes more than
we should be caring for ourselves and our children?
Until we realize that our governments , politicians ,
The systems they designed and put in place to corrupt , control and dominate us,needs our money more than we need them. will we forever remain the anvil and pawns in the political game of chess designed for profits and gains ,power and control , manipulation  and dominance .

Learn to always love yourself
For it's the realest and greatest love of all
Learn to prop and balance thyself
I guarantee you'll never ever fall .

Learn to always say the truth
They say it will always set you free
Don't trust words from a man's mouth
Some truths will hang you from the tree .

Learn never ever to believe a living man
For man to man is so very unfair
Learn to never trust a beautiful woman
Many things fits beneath her long hair .

Learn to always hustle and look for your own
Nobody has time for those without
For the poor will always be the least respected in town
Nobody really cares what they're ever about .

Learn to always give those in need
But make sure you do it when you can
For charity is a blessing and a seed
And learn never to say yes when you can't .

#IvanBrookspoetry✍️©️
twitter @ivanclappers

Time flies like bullet everyday
Scrapping youthfulness as she speeds away
transforming and changing the way we look
Time has no special handbook
Telling us how to behave and live
Time takes away many opportunities
Yet valued as one of life's most precious commodities
It's like saying we don't deserve it
Yet real time cannot be dealt with
So call her the silent unseen enemy
Because She heads the aging army.

Time can chose to be both slow and yet aggressive
But to others she can become vile and abrasive
Especially when she claws evilly away at beauty
Leaving her sad ,all alone and empty..
And Wrinkled, useless and quite old ,
Left only with sad stories to be told
They say time waits on no man
So you have no time even if you can
It's so sad that time tells stories we don't believe
Time was here, Time is packed , ready to leave .

Against the timeline of nature
Freed from the conformity of it all
Are people who refused to fit in the picture
Yet expect their voices to stand tall.
Informed but confused, they obey no rules
hyped,alert,opposed, society labels them as silent rebels
Like hippies, many hate rules yet abhor ridicules
The same people who make troubles
I call them the regiment of the clock
They call themselves freethinkers
Yet others call them legends on the block
Their views and feelings are always written on banners
Always grouping and marching like ducks,
Silent Rebels are always against something
Either against those making heavy bucks
Or those in total control of everything.

One day a good man sat all alone
Wondering if things would ever improve
So he quietly entered his prayer zone
And prayed selflessly to God above
For the gift of life and his bread.
Although he didn't pray for wealth,
‘' Bless them ‘'was part of what he said
He included a prayer for his health.
At the end he prayed for his children,
Asking God to bring them prosperity.
Finally he prayed for all his brethren,
And the poor families in his community .

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Something happened a long time ago
It immediately changed and shifted the balance of things
Though we can't really tell when it happened ,
Yet the aftermath is here to stay..
Take a look around ,
look again ...

It changed everyone and everything
It changed the way we shop, eat and sleep
It changed the way grownups hustle and work
It changed the manner in which we raise our kids
It changed the way our children run and play
It changed the way pimps walk and talk
It hanged the ways in which pastors preach
It changed everything politicians have to say
It changed the way people cast their votes .
It changed the way our government operates
And more over,it changed people's trusts in the system !


Something very sad happened not too long ago
Changing everything we really loved and valued
Though we have no recollection of the exact time
Yet the scars are visible on people's faces
Take a kin look ,
Look again..


It changed our lives and how we live
And even changed the ways we travel
It changed the way we think and act
It changed the way we laugh and smile
It change the way we love and trust
It even changed the way we plan our future
and the way we spend our earnings .
It change the way we look at our friends and family...
Something sad happened a long time ago,
Leaving us with many many doubts
and many unanswered questions !

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Tonight, my two exhausted eyes refused to fold
And my timid soul is all restless and wide awake
Just Craving warmth and sleep but winter is cold
Oh deep sleep, give me thy frail hands to take .

It is very late and the sleep I crave is elusive
It's Casually playing by the rules of the universe
And the sleep I seek this hour appears less active
Saving the sweet yawning and naps that I deserve .

Night is here but sleep seeps beyond the light
Come back to where thy sleepy presence is needed
Oh Come you insomnia master of the starry night
Come to where a little bit of nap is appreciated .

Tonight I will genuflect before my bed and weep
Oh come to me now you dark and sleepy phenomenon
Bring me thy sweet dream to process when I sleep
Come and help me find that sleepy elusive demon .

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#IvanBrooksPoetry

Rise And Shine, Make today thine
For most perfect days like mine,
Promises no perfect tomorrow
For time is a perpetual arrow .

Rise and shine, now is the time
Slay your way to the borderline
Cherish your days and every great moments
Embrace your life and own all the moments .

Rise and shine, It's happiness time
Say aloud the world is now mine
Enjoy the rays whilst it lasts
Yesterday is now about our pasts .

Rise and shine, make time thine
Shine like autumn in summer time
Put in play hours and make it yours
For a day lasts but just few hours .

Rise and shine, make for yourself time
Allow yesterday and time to intertwine
Today is here, Tomorrow still awaits
Shine.for a borrowed time never waits .

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#IvanBrookspoetry

I write beautiful poems in my quiet times
Sign that the universe delivers in silence
Like sought after answers to some mysterious crimes
With a poetic virtuoso, I rely on my intelligence
Which I use to attract imaginative awareness
To access the creative ideas brewing in my head
Certainly, for I write about poetic greatness .
For this journey, quiet time is a poetic seed
Planted at night when the entire world sleeps
Some of which I'll hopefully harvest before the world wakes
Mostly the matured ones that quietly grows and creeps
Beyond the reaches of all poem hunters who takes
Unguarded letters and affix them with poetic wings
Wings powerful enough to take them very far away
To the constellations where every dead poets sings
Hymns composed in honor of sister Maya Angelo everyday .

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#IvanBrookspoetry

We are the Ronaldos of the skillful use of words
The Da vancis of spoken words and poetry .
In the poetic universe, we are the iambic overlords
We are the atoms that bonds words in poetic chemistry
Poets are the architects and cradle of twisted emotions
Yet some consider us the masters of storytelling
You are welcome to peruse some of our creations
In no time you will be amazed, just keep reading!

Some call us the Lebrons of all euphoric writers
Privately we poets prefer to call ourselves wordsmiths
Because of the creative ways we bend loose letters
For it's only poets capable of polishing words like silversmiths
Most of the things we write about are profound and captivating
The deep emotions we stir , all the tears they evoke ,
Our passion and poetic ingenuity, the gift of writing
Our days,our nights , our lives to this craft we'll forever devote !

Right in the dead of a very cold winter
When the tired slave's soul is ash gray
And the cotton plantation becomes whiter ,
Begins a poor slave's hard working day .

In Winter when the master makes a call
This was every slave's worse nightmare
It was time for his hard whips to fall
insurmountable pains he couldn't bare .

Snowballs are piled outside like cotton
His Wounds hurts but as usual he's told
Stay strong brother Kunta, just hold on
Just Stay calm till the barn is closed .

This is the mid of a cold bitter winter
And the crow of a **** heralds a sad day
A slave's prayer to God was a sad whisper
He needed strength to get pass this day.

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For God to work through mysterious ways
Everybody have to hustle for many days
That's why success belongs to he who prays
And works tirelessly beneath the sun's rays.

God will always work through mysterious ways
So it doesn't matter how many yeses or nays ,
Or the different kinds of setbacks or delays
Remember that perseverance always pays.

As thousands of migrants sojourned from Timbuktu
All destined for Libya from the ancient Kingdom of Mali,
One ,a patched lip skinny kid , greeted them''Assalamualaikum''
''Why are we dying in Libya ?'' asks the young migrant called Ali.

For several months , everyday , from sunset to sunrise
Ali said he too dreamed of being a part of the mass migration
'' Oh my dear brothers, I wish your plans were otherwise ''
For many of you will not reach your final destination.

Ali said Libya was the cradle of modern day slavery,
Death trap ,a magnate that lures desperate poor Africans
Escaping prosecution, economic hardships and poverty
Just for them to end up dead like sardines in cans.

Oh Africa Ali asks,where are all of your leaders?
What have we done to deserve this unspeakable evil?
Is it because of the hues of our beautiful black leathers?
When did we become the slavery anvil?

Man to man , is so unjust '' he quoted Bob Marley
'' But Arab to Black Africans is another sad story ! ''
'' Why are Black people being sold into slavery?
Why is the whole world sitting so supinely?

~ Ivan Brooks Sr ~

I have the compulsion to just write
I can't wait to share all my products
Results of my many sleepless nights
My mind represents a little darkroom
Where I process all the inspirations
Gathered from all my timeless flights
Flights I made to the constellations
Where I creep upon few loose words
Words that blindly roams the night.

I come alive when the world sleeps
That's when the stars shines bright
Bright enough to illuminate letters
Letters I develop into spoken words
Words that I give wings and lights
Wings powerful enough to take them
To where they can all find some hope
Bringing lights to their faded dreams
Allow me to tell you about my mind
I am on a poetic fire and I can't sit
Not now, not even if I wanted to quit.

Ivan Brooks Sr

I pay great homage to my Africa
The continent of a million cultures
Roots of the Dreadlocks of Jamaica
Jambo Africa, land of the vultures
Akwaba to the Eden of Black people
Ancient Africa mother of humanity
The world still feed at your diseased table
Oh, Africa, custodian of nature's bounty.

Mama Ebony, you've forever represented since creation
Thy cornerstones are planted on top of Pharaoh's tomb
Oh Timbuktu, cradle of ancient education
Blessed is thy beautiful dark womb.
Lined with fertile dark mineral soil
Eternal volt of the Ashanti gold
Adorned with gems, smeared with oil
Yet not half of your story has been told
Volcanos fuels silently off your gas
Land of Akana, guidance of the sun
Your Pyramid stands where it once was
Watching time and age having some fun.

Ivan Brooks Sr

The stage is set..
The red Light's on ,
The condition is right ,
It's time to shine my son !
The time has come,
The world is ready ...
Superstar Welcome home,
Do them ***** !

Become a sensation,
In you a star is born ...
You are my inspiration,
Blow the poetic horn,
The world's watching...
Just keep going !
Don't stop creating,
Keep up the grinding...
Maybe from the onset,
You will be wrong..
Don't you ever get upset,
Like kunta Kanti,be strong !

Flex your muscle...
And keep pushing ,
And own your hustle .
Like a scribe ,keep writing ...
Stay active,
Keep grinding,
Remain calm but be passive,
Some day you gonna make it !
Don't wait ,
keep pushing..
Don't ever Quit !
keep writing ...
Make yourself at home ,
Poetic Avatar ...
The time has come
Mr ball-pen superstar !

~Ivan Brooks Sr. ~
twitter @ivaclappers
#IvanBrookspoetry

If only Kunta kanti had a camera phone
He would've captured many untold stories
stories of a sad slave girl sitting all alone
Sad stories of overworked slaves with worries .

Stories of ''*****'' holding the Holy Bible
And in another hand the everpresent whip
There would've been images of souls no longer able
To work from dawn to dusk without a drop to sip .

If only Kunta Kanti had a remote controlled drone
Or a Facebook account to share stories and go LIVE
The world would've seen the master's no go zone
Where he buried the bodies of those no more alive .

Stories of the slave master's cruelty would've gone viral
And on the other hand exposed the ugly slave trade
He would've been seen as a vile man who lacked moral
Maybe a jail sentence because of the video Kunta made .

Maybe ,just maybe if Kunta Kanti had a camera phone
It would've caused a public outcry and a Black Lives Matter's rally
Al ,Martin Luther King III and all Black folks would've gone
The names and stories of all slaves would've been read at that rally!



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Before all words became spoken words
Before the white man created his own Gods
For the sole purpose of control and *******,
Before the Samurais spoke life into their swords
Right before the final ritual for an important mission
Before babies got oxygen through umbilical cords
God used only a few words during the creation.

Before the scribes began to write and use words
Before Ancient Egypt and the birth of many nations
Nobody knows exactly the origin of spoken words
Yet mankind has used it in all forms of communications.
Before all of this and before we got out of the caves
Right before we evolved and learned to read and write
Before the ice age and the first mighty ocean waves
God commanded his words to move and just create.

         ~Ivan Brooks Sr.~