To feel the morning sun upon your face,
To be awaken with the kiss of the morning sunshine,
The sound of the birds chirping an unknown melody
Human voices, of laughter from far away,
Foreign tones without the titles,
Somehow, you manage to walked to the bathroom
First thought, where am I? How did I get here?
Why am so alone?


My poem always has a meaning,
My soul is tired, my soul is loss
Rubbing the palm of my hands together
Doesn’t seem to work this time:
It’s best that I reached for a glass of wine
Life can take us, or break us,
Lord whom can I trust?
I don’t need anyone to love me
I often whisper under my breath
But when the breath whisper back
Girlfriend, this life of ours is merely a test
a crazy ride dude, a crazy ride this
thing called life…no update, no update:

Cleansing my Aura with a good write
A good version of my inner thoughts
Without burning my candle at both ends
My friends…..my poems always have a meaning.

~~
*My candle burns at both ends
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends -
It gives a lovely light." Ones of Millay’s open stanza

Every house has a story:
Every piece of land has a past and also a story to tell
When l was a little girl:
I would dig deep into the earth looking
For proof to these stories: a perfumed bottle, a piece of rag,
You name it: I know there was a story.

I remember our first home,
After, moving out of my grandparents’ home
An old run down board house, with the open ceiling
Two bedrooms, no build in bathroom,
Somehow, my parents made it our home
For my siblings and I:

Something about the Iron bedhead caught my attention
The color of black, a little rusty, on the rims
But, l likes that old head board.
My parent got rid of the old head board
Just to keep up with modern times
I wish I could have kept that thing
I know where it is buried: in the gully
Those childhood memories of me
Digging into the earth for artifacts

Every piece of land is unique;
As well as every person is different..
Even the poet within me, seeks,
Not for treasures, but for answers,
I recently made some enquires about
Old man town man piece of land
Everybody wants it, but nobody can get it

Lots of stories can be told about this land
But not enough about the man character
They is lot of things I wish I done different

As a young adult, but I guess,
it wasn’t meant to be:
Today I am calm, yesteryears I was
That, poem that never was publishes.

A Balance Of Who's Right And Who's Wrong
Somewhere, there is a poem in our heads
About, Love, life, politics, natural disasters,
Religion and conflicts controversial issues

Suddenly, here come the uprising wars in politics
Isis and The Donald Trumps of the world crusaders

Here, we are as citizens, once again, starting to feel down,
Trying to find beauty in life, throughout the fixation,
A balance of who’s right and who's wrong,
These Obsessions with tic, TAC, toe politicians.
Somewhere, there is poem, a poem in waiting,
waiting, waiting, waiting, and waiting,

  Too many words, not enough ink for printing,
not enough folks who cares about such matters.
especially black lives:

  The up and down to natural disaster due to the
the tricks of trade in the political world of politics
the missing e-mail, the hidden birth certificates
the beauty Queen who gain weight,
what about the real issues, what about economy
War and famine, child molestation, bigotry and fakery..
so many issues, so many she said, he said,  and fake news

Suddenly, here come the uprising wars in politics
Isis and The Donald Trumps of the world crusaders
Here we are as citizens, once again, starting to feel down.

because of the tongues.. a man who speak in tongues.

is a man  who hides his word: his spirit is speaking mysteries

Written by
Dark n Beautiful  New York

Dark clouds loomed over the horizon
They broke loose in unprecedented force
Nature’s wrath, sudden violence acquired
It rained down as if unleashing all her fury
It was a downpour without one equal

The heavens let down dark misery for days on end,
Water bodies swelled and hollows filled,
Land mass slipped and trees fell,
Rivers were in spate and dams were full
Waves surfed and waters roared,

Like mountains they rose over the land,
Men in throngs were evicted from their homes,
Hundreds died and livestock perished
Such violence, never ever imagined
Helter-skelter, people fled for life.

Lands inundated and folks marooned,
Homes washed away with all belongings
Power failed and life has come to a halt
Rescue operations go on in full swing
Still many, stranded and crying for help

“Water, water everywhere, nor even a drop to drink”
As Nature thus plays her perfidious trick,
We shall stay united and pool all our might,
To regain for our land what we have lost
When the Deluge chants the dirge of dying souls!

Below, above, betwixt, otherworldly,

Harsh, birth of a star green dances supreme,  

Serene, river's blues surround mountains hues,

Surreal, nature's abundance and starkness,

Ethereal, vie vrai, ephemeral and forever.

Thank You to the judge
for his high self esteem
for his wonderful ego
which made him feel like a king

Thank You to the judge
for falling into the trap
laid by the cruel criminal
resulting in punishing the innocent

Thank You to the judge
who failed to differentiate between
right or wrong,  just and unjust
but still felt that justice has prevailed

Big Thank You to the judge
for his application of mind
and for the miscarriage of justice
which ruined the life of the innocent

No doubt the judge was honest
No doubt he was good
still unknowingly he became a shoulder
to hold the gun of the culprit.

I run out of patience, I run out of time,
Life's clock tells me I'm running out of years;
When my mind's weary,  I run out of rhyme,
Why is it I never run out of tears?

I’m going to kiss your lips,
they are cold and taste like the word America)Quote)*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am going to say curry, turmeric, ginger and, garlic
The secret to one’s health:
the true radiant of loving ones’ body:
Like this secret place in my mind
The Gardens at Marqueyssac, Vézac, France.(relaxing)

I’m going to make love to you like the internet explorer
Two words Private mode: just to quench the thirst (even though)
It wiser to separate the two, business and pleasure
One word complication: never bed your business partner (unless)
If you can pulled it off like my heroine McKenzie Bezos (go for it)

I’m going to exam your tockley,
It’s sinful, and deadly, like the  initials S.T.D
I am going to end here with a prayer,
Asking for guidance, and Lysol sprays:


Dark Poem