"Why oh why?' is what everyone answered.
" Do you have any words to say about him?"

I guess I'll start by saying...
People knew him,
Yet they did not know him.
I think I knew him best,
I was connected to that beating muscle
Sulking beneath his chest.

I adored all he loved,
I squinced at all he hated.
I laughed when he basked in joy,
I would become solemn when he teared.
I was always with him.

I doubt you all knew
The rage that surged through his veins,
I doubt you all knew
His soul further passed away,
With each and every day.

Please dont take this the wrong way,
I don't intend to spite.
He often hid from the ones he loved.
I believe he thought his pain
Would only bring down everyone,

So he shielded everyone from his most dark thoughts.
Please don't blame yourself for not knowing.

He showed only
an ounce of emotion in person.
His deepest thoughts and emotions  
Dwell in the art he disclosed.

Every line, every character he concocted...

You noticed some form of misery,
Some form of longing to surrender,
A longing not to be a part of a world
That was too overbearing for him.
He believed he didn't belong,

But when most of us read his poetry,
If we ever read it at all,
We didn't think too much of it.
Totally oblivious to the pain behind his poetry.

We must reminisce,
We must reflect on every moment
We shared with him.
A moment never truly ends.

Originally written 6/5/11
Revised 10/14/2014

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith

Your life is over-rated,
And my death looks
Attractive like a magnet.

To think for one self
Is such a rash habit.
No, not really,
Pardon the sarcasm.
Whenever I rap I have
A spiritual ******.

The Truth
Isn't a fashion.
The day I was born my mother
Should have named me Blasphem...y.
We think we have all the answers,
Without applying the questions,
We don't even ask them.

We must ask them
Like wisdom's passion,
And put theory into practice
Because kinetic energy can only
Be expressed through action.

Originally written 6/9/11
Revised 10/14/14

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith

What is a "soul"?
Seriously, what is it?
Ambiguity obviates all simple and complex definitions.

If "souls" do exist,
I suppose my "soul"  is transmogrifying,
Transfusing the screen.
The key is Transition
Of a remote position.

Maybe someday a scientific physician
Will invent a tracking device to track its travelling distance?
Sounds sort of like a Stephen Spielberg novel
The genre of science fiction
Or is it?

7/18/11

(c) 2011 Brandon Antonio Smith

He said, "Right now I'm gonna cut you into pieces."
He put my mother in a bag,
While my father was still sleeping.

The crosses and flags lay on the floor
The crosses and flags lay on the floor
The crosses and flags lay on the floor
The crosses and flags lay on the floor

My tears oh how they bleed mercy,
And I can't seem to find any of my sisters.

"Before this day, I never knew hatred...."
Were the last words of my grand mother,
She was too sweet for human hunger.

8/2/11

(c) 2011 Brandon Antonio Smith

My pencils are breaking-
Pens have spilled too much ink
But at least I'm still writing.
The flannel I have,
Smuggling collarbones
From chilly apartment-
I've worn that all week.
There's a cigarette burn
In one sleeve,
The buttons have come unhinged
During midnight runs to the corner
For cheap chocolate
And cigarettes.
Ramen boils
To salt my appetite.
But at least I'm still writing.
I leap from place to place,
Eyeing hoods passing by,
And I imagine guns tucked away.
The sink leaks,
There's not enough sun.
I'm high on debt
And college school books
Rot in the corner.
I guess my degree
Has gone putrid too.
My life's gone dingy and dark,
Suffocated by polluted winter.
Dark circles
Tell stories
Dreams can't remember.
But ******* at least I'm still writing.

She's an alphabet artist
she paints in words,

from a palette of adjectives,
nouns and verbs,

the landscape she finds
in the folds of her mind

she exhibits in volumes of verse.