Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Scarce cloud on the upsky,
Scarce mind in the uphouse

No rain for the toad at chair,
More pain for the pauper’s child –

It’s winter.
“I woke up to chattering teeth like a serial coward,
Except the fear is not within here, it sits in the air

The year carries twenty figures in twice orientation,
The year carries blessings and curses in twin proportions

Dear Twenty, talk to me, what do you expect of us?

Men’s lives fade like starving candles,
My hope slips out of the palms like I’m trying to hold wet air

Empty man, I’m scared of dying too young
Dumpty head, my shell cracks – I’m scared of dying too young

Bad days have me freezing inside the skull,
I’m not friends with God anymore and I miss Him –

From "A POETIC POUND OF PAIN, The Anthology" by Yours Truly. Coming Soon.
“My mind carries a pain
My skin bears a voice
I’m mad and it shows

It’s black in my soul
I’m bad, I’m insane
I’m mad and it grows

Black man with some vocals –
Black man with no arms,
Black man yes, the pain is mine, and it eats me  

Black man and there’s black in my thoughts,
So I keep screaming
Black man with heavy dreams that haunt him:

An ambition in the winter,
Flower never grow, for my seed cannot afford
Friction in the air when I’m bitter

Pay fee for my visions to come into sight, capitalism
Terrors caged in my intuition, neo-colonialist inhibitions
Give men races, take away our faces, branding

Culture punctured or am I just Insaniod?
**** the stereotype?
I try, but the Earth is stereohyped

Blame my senses? I can’t.
Too many cents owed me –
Tales Of My Madness
“Walk right up to you,
To the root of your throne
And stare, expectant

Cup in hand, thirst in soul
Ready to drink, and just demand:
I yell and raise the cup to you –

‘Forgive me!’

I am a hypocrite child, a mockery to your blamelessness
Please grant me eyes true,
And a tongue that knows honesty unimpaired -

‘I’m Sorry, My God.’
From the unreleased anthology: A POETIC POUND OF PAIN by Yours Truly.
“The cousins leave, their laughter and cries do too
Upon that hour when sky’s flame
Is fell from up high

The water stops, the winds halt
Maybe even the blood stands too, still
For nothing moves, nothing’s awake at this hour

Minds and souls roam, free
Away from the heads plastered close to earth
Dreaming dreams, of planets, moons and else

Partaking, all in the blackness’s ritual
So dark, even the puppets of evil are tempted to lie still
All Men sleep, nothing’s awake at this hour –

Except me,
And the hand
From which this poem is borne.”
From 'PICNICS WITH THE PAIN: A Micro-Anthology Of Micro-Poetry.''
[PART 1] - 2019

"It’s a click,
Followed by the crack of an atom
The flare of mushroom flame flies past me –

A mutant sun is born on the sands of my planet,
The searing grey mush blooms

A planned doom looming over MY EARTH
A manufactured death staring me in the face;

[PART 2] - 2020

"It’s a sip,
Followed by the quake of cell
The echo of infection and mortality issues into my ear, news

A mutant strain of illness blooms in men’s blood
Child and brothers taken sick, none return alive

A bacterial grenade, bioweapon - a motherfungus
A manufactured death staring me in the soul

[PART 3]
Our every talk
an episode of competitive mind athletics
As each tries to outpace the other
On the eccentric field tracks of conversation.

We are more like ****** – militants,
For after every hello and before the next goodbye there always remains a trail of carnage;
Inside my eyes and on your face are the grimmest battlefields;
Emotions are always the casualties;
Paying the price for two egos clashing in frantic effort to maintain the gravities of inner pride.

Your name and mine;
Two eagles wrestling every hour
trying gravely to unsettle the establishment;
To shift the equilibrium,
To make the universe lose its balance.

The survival of our acquaintance is based on something stronger than the spiritual;
Our mutualism
One flower least expected to flourish
I think nature made me for you;
I am the antithesis to your existence;
Only in our duality can peace exist;
Two powers of chaos
Tumultuous forces that cannot live without each other.

I think you know that I am the best thing that is ever going to happen to you.

{She Smiles and nods}

For Teyana, Let me embrace your chaos. From the upcoming love anthology "TEYANA"
Next page