I am the poem, the naked poem
Feel the poetic tone. From the moment
you laid eyes on me.
The break lines and the awkward feeling,
you get throughout each stanza,
represent my beautiful nakedness

Then comes the unprovoked aggression of my actions,
Never blanket my words,
let my audience feel the power of my strength
I am the poem that can never be ban
I rather you wouldn’t strip my words from the truth,
but embrace it with an open mind

The night was made for loving
But the days are said to be
The death of a poet’s eye before,
He says what has to be said.

There’s no heat in the city,
Only depression and misery
All around town, no garbage collection,
Only rental units with
high vacancy rates seems counterintuitive,

The colours of the disposable bags
Said, sacks and waste, bed bugs, and roaches,
So take your landlord to court and come out on top
Said the poet, before death trap us

As I drove around the city, my heart is oppressed with
anguish to the very point of death that surround us.
That awful display on every city block.

Homeless men and women urinate, defecate,
Behind, the doors and alleys,
we need a wind of change today
the night not so much matter

However, it’s the day after everything comes to light,
Another lost soul, another day to push forward
Is it illegal to be homeless, when trying to try to stay alive?
The Devil will try to stop anything good!

by John Keats

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


*Feedbacks
A poet strives for perfection
Someday his work will become a worldly reflection
With each line he procrastinates,

With each stanza bring unique function and a unique purpose
Reaction, pro action and anticipation
To the point of debating or deconstructing his work
Despite the unfavorable reviews

Should he read it out loud?
Or should he let it simmer
and invite samplers to sample

Too many minds, too many voices
The Metaphors, similes and analogies work so well,
because they make messages,
those closely related literary devices are
so influential, so important.

So when the feedbacks become the Sunday buffets
the main course, you are messing with his thing of beauty

A poet strives for perfection
Someday his work will become a worldly reflection
With each line he procrastinates, of who he is

Back in time during some tense moment,
of weakness causes a state -of Confusion
or was it  an era of delusion in my poetic mind?
to my greatest surprise, this became a series
  of my confessional poetry.

Aching for someone to fill a void
A love that couldn’t be granted
Without the repercussion of the change.....

Why have I chosen?
Such a man of low caliber
To fulfill my wildest fantasies

A man who knows
Not what he wants
Who never delivered those timely sigh
Or made the almighty seem
Less powerful than him

Oh how long have I waited to reach?
That high pitch of satisfaction
To hear the sound of
“Oh God, oh my God
Without a choir chorale

My bed, his cave,
No waiver, the thrill is gone
A wish not granted
A void yet to be filled

The words have been the poem,
and a good poem should fulfill us
  It can offer consolation and comfort
in our times of need

Lift up your pens, you upcoming poets write to,
your heart's content,  let your words,
be a conversation topic, be the closing of
the graduation speech, because
rhythmic language thrives, it allows most poems
to speak for themselves.
Who Killed Poetry?
No one did .

The Game Change
Two strong competitors fighting for the crown
So many promises, Where can we go wrong?

What did our bible?
Said about speaking in tongues?

Someone must lose in order
For the other one to win

That is what known at the game change.
Knowingly, nothing would ever be the same again

How many competitors from the past fulfill their promises?
Fools us once, shame on you, fool us twice,

We just have to say Amen but indeed... Oh! Jesus Christ.”

We listen and watch all those tricks and trades
With ponderings thoughts we said “who really said what?
Can they really step up to the plate and deliver?

Are we willing to put our country in the hands of the wealthy?
Who never knew the meaning being dirt poor?
Or Shall we say, no more, no more?

Show us the beef you influential flimflammers',
and we shall show you where our loyalty lies;

*Because man is his own authority
he use his brilliant educational philosophy, to be creative
he wink at the cameras, and said
” I get back to you on the real issues”
You law abiding fools

Satan is a liar, and so is man.
White lies, black lies and grey lies
Everybody lied at some point in their life
why stop now?
All eyes are on you!