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All my lived tales of fading breaths draws nigh,
Haloed crowns adorn the individual fruited hills upon...
The mountains awakened Sighs.
A mortally wounded man faces the travails of his last STAND;
A lost soul crawls up
Into the transitory steps of that heroes climb
To that journey's expected repose.
The deeply torn,
Impaling obsidian sword carries its own burden's weights.
Upon the in between space of
Life's and Death's meeting scene.
That soldier man comes finally to the
Mountain top's giving being.
The bursting soul in its moment's release,
Departs its earthy reside.
Death pervades the foggy rites of ended life.
His haloed name is now declared!
His haloed crown of the majestic ages wears his divine head.
He walks anew on the grounds of Angelic dreams.
A new path reserved
for only his haloed Wise,
His haloed Eyes!
Revealing the prize of the Cosmic Scenes,
Where the Master guided my cares and resided in me.
Now walks besides me holding my hands closely for all ETERNITY!
Amen to Eternity's Version of Me!
Life Goes On and time for you to flip the page.
Flipping these pages is what the living continues to do.
This is the stories of mortal Truths!


(C) Copyrighted
The Moments before death and the eternity waiting for you afterwards.
I am somebody
Shot in the Head...
Found the bullets.
Coroner Said.
A child of God struck dead.
Gang related disputing Fools.
Aiming cowardly bullets right at you.
I guess praying prayers just won't do.
There is no safe in these hard knocks realities' Truths.
Our Sista child!
Our mother child!
All the while the bodies pile.
Her body now adds to that 'the shootings aren't as bad as last year' body count.
Can't even stand anywhere in your city NOW?
Something has to truly give.
There's a plague of rigid legalities, relaxed moralities, and political realities stealing the 'safe' from our dying breed.
The Black man withering away in siphoning inequalities.
Doubling unemployment stretches outward like a statistical wild fire....
Our present fact.
There is a genocidal component to these criminal acts.


Copyrighted (C)

Published in the 2018 Edition of the Reconstructed Literary and Visual Journal at Governors State University.
This poem addresses how gun violence steals away the hope and dreams from the African American Community.
'I am regenerating.
A soul takes its
transitory step
from a caterpillar's last breaths.
The healing white lights of change renews
my soul's infinite quest.
Suddenly, a rainbow butterfly emerges to claim the waiting sky.
For I am reborn.
as the Cosmic Butterfly Eyes
of the Loving Divine.'
Copyrighted (C)
Did you just call me ugly?
How blind could you be?
Don't you know that I got God inside of me?
Tell me dear....
So, full of pride and so focused on your youthful looks.
How much makeup?
How much pride?
How many people?
Will be at your side,
When you close your eyes for the last time.
Tried to be **** at times myself.
Those ideas blew up in my face.
Got a lot of regret debts
anchored down in the valleys of the wrinkles on my face.
Did you know I used to have abs?
Not anymore.
One day I heard my stomach having a private conversation,
with gravity.
Gravity said, 'Winning!'
Took my abs away.
Gave me arthritis and a fever in its place.
I **** so much.
I swear someone has a gun to my ***.
It is so ****** up,
when the pistol starts to cry and laugh.
I need a walker most of the time.
I guess the only crime I committed was staying alive.
Yeah, I am old.
So, what! I made it this far.
Take your *** on and be thankful for who you are.
You don't know how good you got it.
You can still get around,
Without leaving fun size Hersey bars behind on the ground.
'Hey, old dude, what Hersey bars are you referring to you?  The thing I see behind you are chocolate bars,
With corn toppings.
The old man starts to laugh.
The young lady says, 'Do you mean to tell me that you *******, while you were talking to me this whole time?
The young lady began to puke.
'Baby, I didn't **** on myself. My *** did all the work. I haven't been able to control my bladder for a few months now. Here is a tissue for your mouth though?'
'Did you just hand me your depends?' The young lady said.
'Yep! These Depends never judge me and makes me feel very special.'
The young lady walks away, as she continues to puke.
The old guy says, 'She is so slow. I thought that she would have given me my Depends diaper back.
'Uh oh! What am I going to doo-do in now? That girl stole my Depends!

(C) Copyrighted
A poem on aging.
A Soldier Heart guarding the Gates of Heaven.
My brother.
My best friend.
Enough Said.
Embarking on Angel duty.
Enough Said.
Did you all hear what I just said?
My hero!
My best friend.
A fellow soldier.
Watching over me and
all those he loves.
I feel proud to have an
angel buddy protecting me from above.
This is "Forever Soldier Friendship
Love."


(C) Copyrighted
I am a spiritual being!
a temporary human being.
A cosmic symphony
composing its own living dreams.
Residing lovingly
within these fragile,
and precious days of me.
After all, I am the Cosmic
Namaste Child!
A divine instrument playing out the breaths of Father God's
incarnating imaginings.

Copyrighted (C)
A knowing that you are so much more than the human shell; that you temporarily live in.
I am the ocean's deepest watery depths...
Come ashore.
Disguised as mortal footsteps
to explore,
to explore the Cosmic synchronicities
of the elusive quantum forever more.
I am the Cosmic Breaths of Forever.
waiting to tread on the literary pages of destiny's forever shores.


(C) copyrighted
I choose to see the beauty in people.
I will leave the ugly rhetoric
to the media's narratives.
Can't mess with those stereotypes and comatose generalizations;
that 'fuckery' that steals away common sense from ours and future generations.
You become what you give your attention to.
I spend my divine currency of kindness in loving you.
You are apart of God's divine plan.
He wakes you and me up each and everyday.
In my soul's faith I know that everything will be okay.
This is why I continue to pray.
Because I choose to see the beauty and best in people.
This keeps me upbeat.
Because I try to imagine what God sees in my fellow soul siblings.
And from that cosmic perspective;
I go about my business.
For father God is in charge of each and every plot twist.


(C) copyrighted
A poem about humans respecting each other..
We give ourselves separating names.
Separating nations.
We create our own pain.
A pain that does not have to be.
Let us bring back together the days of FREE!


Copyrighted 2015
With all the violence happening in the word; my soul searches for that country named 'SAFE!'Future
Tears gently spill out of my mountain top eyes.
Witnessing you becoming a daddy again.
capturing in this precious moment.
The love between a father and this tiny human being.
A gift from God's living dreams.
To give you this angelic blessing.
A beautiful baby girl.
Your beautiful baby girl.
Your beautiful and rare diamond baby girl ring.
A sparkling diamond ring SOUL forged in divinity.
A healing love.
An anointed testament to those great things yet to come.
Welcome to the world.
My precious little baby girl.
A precious little girl,
who has stolen
my heart before
she was even born.
And I promise you that from this day forth.
I will protect you with my
Brave Veteran Soldier Heart.
And when you start dating.
I promise you this.
If your boyfriend treats you wrong;
He will be sleeping with the fishes.
Cause you got my heart forever!
It is getting hard for me to continue to talk.
So, let me speak instead through my tears and giving love.
As you sleep near my soldier heart;
Remember, you got 'My Forever Veteran Daddy Heart.'

(C) copyrighted
A soldier father meets his daughter for the first time.
Autumn has gone.
Found at last its eternal song.
Each autumn season is different.
Your autumn song was treasured by me and the many.
The falling leaves will never know again your particular bliss.
I lost my autumn leaf
My precious Cynthia leaf.
Please don't be dead.
My mentor.
My dearest friend.
No this can't be.
Your eyes.
your smile.
Your strength is my forever family.
Tell Samantha.
That I love you both.
A part of me dies with you.
I am the last of our group.
I suppose you had to go..
I would rather have you as a friend than a foe.
You always followed the path of your cosmic soul flow.
A new angel.
A loving mommy soul.
Got You and Sammy watching over me now.
Watching over Joseph and Margaret as well.
My heart is truly broken.
To find out unexpectedly that you have passed on.
Reminds me of how precious life is.
You always taught me to live life and move on.
You will always be my autumn song.
Your magical fire and friendship ignites hope within me anew.
One day, we shall meet again.
When Father God calls me home to be with my family and friends.
My mentor passed away. I never saw this coming.
A Myspace friend at first.
Then you jumped on the Facebook wagon.
And then you became my dear friend.
Just found out you passed on.
My tears betray me.
My hurt sways me onward.
I refuse to....
Maybe someday I will finish that last sentence.
Now the sadness fills me up like a full glass of bitter tasting wine.
Can't help how I feel.
To know that I will never hear from you, and chat with you
again.
A loss of time...
Our friendship times.
Gonna cry a lot.
My grief is going to be on the morning, afternoon and evening shifts for a while.
I love you my departed friend.
Never had a chance to say goodbye.
O I can finish that sentence now.
How are you doing?
Send me a heavenly...'Hi there!' from time to time.
Missing you. You are my veteran friend.
I send a heavenly salute to you and....
lots and lots of forever "AMENS!'
The loss of a dear friend.
A father's kiss.
For the very first time.
On my new born face.
A Mom's dawning smile
is the very first rainbow
that I ever saw.
Hanging there on her LOVING face.
Crying bliss pours out of my infant eyes.
Mommy and daddy, you are
my forever HEART!
God has given me ten tiny fingers.
Ten wiggly toes.
This sacred,
Mommy
and Daddy love fills me up so!
Fills me up with precious
Baby girl hope.
I am alive!
Mommy and daddy!
Look at me!
I have arrived.
Protected by your Parental DIVINE.
Feeling all this permeating beauty  from my mommy and daddy expressed in giving LOVE.
After all, I am your baby girl gift from heaven above.
This is 'Ode to My Precious Baby Girl Love.'


Copyrighted 2016
I thought about the birth of my precious little niece.  She means the world to me.
Cinnamon
winters the rolls.
If my past childhood memories serve me correctly.
Better than playing in the wettest Christmas snow
leaves a sweet kiss behind.
My lips follows, with an expected sigh.
To again taste one of many...
the many tasty treasures left behind
by the Elusive divine.
In that very moment;
where the sweet cinnamon lubricates
my feisty lips.
All is ******* history.
Isn't it?
And so I ravaged the now decimated sweet treasure
with many sinful bites.
Smoked a cigarette afterwards.
There was a no smoking sign.
Indeed, **** and cinnamon don't mix.
On the tiny red plate, where the cinnamon rolls once lived.
a few crumbs in its wake still exists.
Confusion is typical of this kind of ish.
When you lick the mooing cows hidden dish.

Written and Copyrighted (C) 2014
by Claude Robert Hill, IV.
Consciousness pouring out of me disguised as words. I am craving cinnamon rolls.
Two book bags just got shot down,
while celebrating the end of the school year on the play ground.
Destroying our souls.
Again and again!
in Chi-town.
Ain’t nothing sacred anymore.
Marching from here to there.
Saying “Stop The Violence”
is met by a corrupt system;
that just don’t CARE.
We The People must learn to CARE once again.
About our community....
Our brothers and sisters in their beautiful black skin.
Those two book bags represent someone’s
little girls bleeding out on the cement shores.
Never to explore education's reach, marriage, or raising children in peace.
“Stop The Violence” isn’t just a tagline.
Its a call for justice,
while sustaining the Black man's bloodline.
Our children deserve to be safe,
while being Proud and Black in any living space....
at any given time.
Why does my Black skin come with a 'they died too soon' deadline?


(C) Copyrighted
On the South side  of Chicago; two  young girls were shot on the last day of class, while they were playing on the school playground.
On the front steps of my mighty mouth.
And with the opening of my Ancient Smile.
Armored in Forever LOVE.
I give to all creation.
To humanity's cause.
The comforting smile of the ages.
Now adorning this moment's keep.
The Cosmic Smile mirrored in the return
of this Cosmic Version of Me.

Copyrighted (c) 2015
The power of the smile, and its roots in divinity.
Chapter One.

Taste the crap fully.
The corn eyes comatosed....
stuck
In between the folds of mash potato like obedience.
Fuckery makes hate great again.
The horrible rift established by
Religiously intolerant thetoric.
Reacting becomes classic.
Suffocation slowly creeps in and becomes expected.
The silence becomes tragic,
as the first amendment is shredded  into nothingness.
And soon the corn eyes begins to multiply,
as stinking crap blinds the dreams of its corn fed yellow eyes.
Remember, fake news like corn never sits well in the tummy.
Comes out at the other end.
Brown chunky oatmeal,
with corn eyes wide open looking stuck upon the mountains and mountains
of left over **** traffic coming to a sudden halt.
Where is lady liberty?
My original democracy loving tv dinner Mommy.
Who knows....
This is the diary of zombie corn eyes.

Next Week....
Chapter Two.
When a new jacking off tax becomes a liability for those professionals tryimg to make money off their favorite part time hobby.

(C) copyright 2020
The erosion of commonsense and freedom of speech
As I looked upon the
Whispers of the forming
Clouds.
So, shaped like a family of ducks
in their times.
Revealed to me the caspered calm and
Distinct instinct and ‘gifts’ to
Float, without prior education.
Towards the sky forests in
Ease and love.


(c) copyrighted
A poem about nature
'Birthing poetic breaths into being.
Bringing forth cosmic consciousness.
Disguised as my incarnating dreams.
What a gift to me?
To become each and every day a better version of me.
These are the poetic thoughts always stirring about in me.
This is the 'Namaste  Child's State of Being.'


Copyrighted (2016)
The art of manifesting poetry onto the waiting page.
The Veteran Soul lives on always.
Papa fought in the extreme cold.
Memories of you and me.
Stills his companion nightmares on battling scenes.
All those firing bullets rage on in waves of saturating hate.
Couldn't even seal his fate.
His best friends.
His very respected mates succumbed to untimely fates.
He heard within himself....
in the context of his heart...
These words saying, 'America..
America!
How I shall fight to defend your free.
Give me that enduring faith of yours ole liberty.
If I lay down my heart beats for thee.
Just don't forget I died for my mighty country.
As he heard the grenades bursting away.
He continued to run into harms way.
And then one bullet pronounced him dead.
The picture page flips to his honored grave.
His loving wife and daughter of eight.
Hold together his hero's American flag in their shared hands.
Their tears respectively fall on that precious American flag...
That flag.
That powerful receipt represented that he had died for the ideals of his homeland.
As his family walks away.
Dressed in the silhouette garb of grieving ways.
You could hear the song of 'America the beautiful.
The beautiful song permeating in the haloed whispers from his warrior's grave.
Even to this moment.
Where we honor and celebrate him and all Veterans on Veterans day.
I love you our Fallen and those still
Alive.
You are my brave Veteran Soldier Eyes.


(C) Copyrighted
A  fictitious story about a brave man who died for the ideals of his homeland.

— The End —