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Dark n Beautiful Oct 2020
It not easy going up against God’s Peoples
Date your wound
Picked your fights,

"Debates test the performative aspect of leadership: stamina, mental agility
as viewers we all know the mental agility of some of them:"

You can sway a thousand men by appealing to their prejudices quicker than you can convince one man by logic.”
― Robert A. Heinlein, Revolt in 2100/Methuselah's Children


Poets should get together and debates,
The inner thoughts of each other:
We are in the heat of this pandemic
The thought of not knowing,
Who family member would get that awful text
It’s not  so easy to go up against God’s people
Remember the world,
Picked your fights,

Something is going on in this world that isn’t rights
When the God given talent of man is used to destroy\
Others, it should be taken away.

If you use your time wisely, God will give you more time. If you use your energy wisely, God will give you more energy.** Quote:
Dark n Beautiful Oct 2020
What election has left us over the years, (divisions?)
Two and two doesn’t equal four any more in voting booths
Pulling the leveler, to cast ones votes doesn’t registered
Our candidates have already been chosen.
Our way of life is but a passing stain..(Permanent)
However, the flag of justice will wave either in mast
Or half-staff:
Dark n Beautiful Oct 2020
I am afraid, in this
Times of uncertainty
Leading up to November election,

Love without feeling,
Sunlight without the warmth
At time when our city is a cage,

filled with rage:

The talks of death, without hope
It can be brutal my friends,
The flowers blooms
where no man can see it beauty

Upon the graves of the daily departed
Old men and women sit alone (waiting and waiting)

What is it that we lack in these troublesome times?
Happier days, without the cage,
Without risking the rage,
Without, keeping our eyes
On the numbers of dead bodies,
In our inner cities or around the countries bend:

Our trembling lips under the masks,
I thirst not for the wine but
for my freedom to breathe freely
Without, limited restriction, without fines!
Our lips tremble under the colorful protective masks,
Can we really breathe?

A little while ago I had a lengthy conversation
With my dearest friend in Angers western France,
about 300 km southwest of Paris
We cherish our memories of the past:
With little hope and a dream,

We might meet again on the Island of Barbados..
Our memories of the past with keep us intact
Our future for right now seems uncertain.
We have to cry, we have to cry,
We must cry, we must…
Dark n Beautiful Sep 2020
Sharks is not only in the river,
"Sometimes a shark can attack a human out of fear.
If for some reason that shark believed that"
a human is a threat then it might attack him."

As human being, we struggle with all sorts of emotions
So we plots against each, in ways more than other
unfortunately, those plot usually backfire,

For good can overpower evil in most cases
Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good:
So you should know, the poet said to herself.

This past Tuesday, a secret was reveal to me
That a coworker was plotting against me,
But, the one she told, warned me,
That a shark was not only in the river,

Who God bless No man shall curse…
This individual, somehow, the ones
In the lab coats, favor her to do the
Odd and ends, it reminds me of
The slave masters informers,
To report back to him, and they shall be awarded
I listen to the one she told,
And took it in stride
Shall I planned a revenge,
Of do what I usually do most
And let the cookies crumbles?

Today, is a new day, a day to write a poem
About slavery tactic, and how the minds of the weak
Of slave ancestor survivor, can creep back in time
and space into the body of this co-worker:

A slave to fear…however,
a poets like I to reckon with.
I foresee a slap in her face,
But a bullet to her heart,
She is not the smartest!
only the master *******
.
Dark n Beautiful Sep 2020
A Poet tell the best stories,
It’s a daily struggle for me, when I am on
Schedule, to show up there….at 3035
I usually take one foot slowly off the bed
I have to transform my body into someone else

Her name is Waverly, the most frequent alters,
a pretender, but not like the mouthy poet (A.L)
Seven hours of lies, trying to make ends meet
Twenty eight years of deceits, show in the receipts
Of hard, hard labor, and the back breaking toil of the day

The pointy nose, hold on to fake clipboard
Should I hate them, the system or me?
They is so many of us low renter in that place
But in the days of the corvid corona 19
These, days there are So many of them
Uprising, coming and leaving, the drilling
Should I hate them, the system or me?

The ones who tell the best story
Is the most observant one, to the craft?
A river is a body of water
With lot of stories to tell
Sadness and happiness,

My experiences there comes with pain,
Shame and mostly the sadness of
Staying at one place so lengthy!!
My restless spirit is now catching on to me
Is it too late for me, for us?
Me or my alters or just I
Oh, how I remembered them so well

Within each new poet there is a new idea
Each new idea brings a zest to future poems
The new poet fades too soon: so has the pointy nose
They never, stays, but memories of them, stain like glass
Taking the memories of their appearances
like shadows over the sun:

Did I really had years of experience
or years of daily repeats.
then I must indeed say my confidence has suffered..
Dark n Beautiful Sep 2020
Preserving Childhood memories
Those years are like dusty boxes of old books
Each book classify as a quantum leap for me.
My first steps that led to many things,

I kept thinking about my small bottle of goat’s milk
Flavored with Grenada nutmeg to tone down the taste:
Perhaps after my father saw the look of disgust on my small face,
After my first tastes, in comparison to the cow’s milk
Lactose intolerance was the key word in those days.
Little did anyone knew of it…then..
Which was worse the cod liver oil, on Sunday Morning?
Or the nauseating feeling, of the repeats of the oil in one’s mouth

1950s hardly a child escaped mumps, measles, whooping cough or chicken pox.
Childhood disease was most feared, especially amongst the poorest.
So the old folks did whatever, it took to protect us ..

I was always searching, for my next chapter, as soon as I was out of
The danger zone to record, one line at a time
to the simplest things such as choosing the
Best pebbles, the loudest night crickets, to the most
Beautiful butterfly for my collections:

I think I had mention this before once I caught a snarky bird
And try to cage, the poor thing, until my grandmother beg of me
To let it go free, freedom for him was a squeak of happiness,
I could be wrong, but I think the bird return a favor to our household…
There he was picking away at the bananas on the kitchen counter,
Perhaps he saw the danger, that windy morning
A nearby kitchen towel was left to close to the burning stove,

Freedom for him was a squeak of happiness for us on that day
I must indeed say:
Preserving my childhood memories,
not only came from on top of that Hill
But from what that bird taught me,
About a kitchen window that opened with a slight squeak"
freedom

Dark n Beautiful Aug 2020
Light hearted when I am with him
Devastated when we are apart,
I am a dreamer; he is a lay backer,
Without a genuine heart, our love is
like a unnatural clip from noughts&crosses
hate destroy lives, love can bring it back together
However, what is left of my Love for him dies each day:

We are apart, because it is impossible to settle this kind of love
We never dance; we never kiss on the dance floor
Our rhythm never entwined, he had no rhythm,
So I never experience a kiss on the dance floor,

Feelings alters when replace by loneliness
Love bails,
when a marriage fails,
wishing and hoping that our love would
be enough to hold them
Unlike a poor man's flowers picked fresh from the fields..
Without adversity
Free for plucking, never got a chance to blossoms
my love for him was marginal:
However, nothing but  deep respect for him
a part of me will always have to choose,
so, I choose to be happy , I choose loneliness
before, confusing pity for love..
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