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In memory of Pastor James Davis

I looked up in the sky
Beyond the clouds up there
Where Angels dwell among themselves
I didn't see you at all.

My heart heavy in sorrow
Missing you very much and even more
Gone is the smile and joy you left behind.
The meaningful words to encourage us
The things to know in the coming years.

If only you knew what I saying now
And the words of sad refrain spoken
Then you'll hear my heart's beating.

I gazed up in the distant skies
Searching for you and hoping you were there
But I am you weren't there after all
Until I found out you were called home,
Home where you belong
Rest, you need it in the long run.

29 June 2004
Color my world black,
To match the color of my skin
And that I'll live in total Blackness.
My whole world
Colored to match my heritage
My love for History;
Black History.

I put my trust in God
As I color my world around me
My heritage I treasure
Through God in whom I trust.

Copyright (C)2004
Politicians--
Wake up from your sleep
Of political thinking
High prices, high taxes
And back breaking
It's time to wake up!

Preachers---
Wake up from your sleep,
Preaching sermons of greed
Blinded by the LIGHT
Practicing in the world of ******
It's time to wake up!

Mother---
Wake up from your sleep
Of finding that man
To pay for all your problems
Then away he goes
Away he ran
For it's time to wake up!

Teachers---
Wake up from your sleep
Of educating young minds
Wasting
Their lives away
With them it's hard to find
It's time to wake up!

Father---
Wake up from your sleep
Of being a runaway man
Stand up for yourself
And don't lie down but STAND
'Cause it's time to wake up!

Wake up! Wake up!
Sleeping time is over.
He that sleeps too long
Will miss God at work.
Your very life uncovered
For it's time to wake up!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
GET UP!
WAKE UP!
GET UP!
WAKE UP!
GET UP!
WAKE UP!
GET UP!
GET UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
Politicians--
Wake up from your sleep
Of political thinking
High prices, high taxes
And back breaking
It's time to wake up!

Preachers---
Wake up from your sleep,
Preaching sermons of greed
Blinded by the LIGHT
Practicing in the world of ******
It's time to wake up!

Mother---
Wake up from your sleep
Of finding that man
To pay for all your problems
Then away he goes
Away he ran
For it's time to wake up!

Teachers---
Wake up from your sleep
Of educating young minds
Wasting
Their lives away
With them it's hard to find
It's time to wake up!

Father---
Wake up from your sleep
Of being a runaway man
Stand up for yourself
And don't lie down but STAND
'Cause it's time to wake up!

Wake up! Wake up!
Sleeping time is over.
He that sleeps too long
Will miss God at work.
Your very life uncovered
For it's time to wake up!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
GET UP!
WAKE UP!
GET UP!
WAKE UP!
GET UP!
WAKE UP!
GET UP!
GET UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
You see, you make me wanna write,
You make wanna write words
So sweet and on the other hand
Words wind up so tight
Until it squeeze you when you feel me
Setting my poetic heart soaring free
Like a bird flying in mid air
But I don't care
As long as I can bring these poetic words to your ears
Leaving with happiness or either in tears.
I am like an addict unashamed
And an addict by deed and name
Over poetry deep, deep, deep in my soul
No matter how deep or how old
Or how it sounds in words so dear
Until it just burns of your ears.
Fire flame to touch
No but yet not too much
Just a little at a time
With somewhere in there with you on my mind
Because I am an addict for poetry.
Poetry by any means you see
If by anything else is messed up,
Like the Crack head on the streets
I need to be fed my "drug" that inner beast.
No not beast but pleasure deeply so
Until I feel and really know
It's that thing call poetry I am addicted to
Yes, it's very, very, very true
I love poetry for I am an addict.
And if poetry was a woman she would be my mistress,
My chick on the side I won't miss,
For I am an addict baby a poetry ******,
Because I need my fix everyday,
And sometimes i a worst way.
My suppliers range many like Langston and Nikki and Maya and even a Butterfly too
Because I am an addict of poetry and this is very true.
Everytime I mix the poetic lyrical measures spinning in my brain,
As I write them down like a person whose going fool and going insane,
For I am an addict baby; a poetic, lyrical, words spinning miser, spitting out words so,
Addict of rhymes
Endless i space and in time
No matter what moves me
No matter what grroves me
I am  what I am what I am so.
Give me a fix and I'll give you a rhyme
Give a little bit of time
And I'll be spitting out poetry as fast as you can say "BLACK BALL"
I love poetry and I am an addict that's all.
If there was an "Poet's Anonymous" I would be in every meeting everytime,
Spinning a rhyme for you in every way I can find.
My name is____and I am a poetic lyrical of rhyme of a poet
I AM A AN ADDICT----
A POETRY ADDICT!


(C) K.C.Colt
All Rights Reserved.
I need you.

I need you for all of my tomorrows
So I may understand my yesterdays
But yet bear the pains and sorrows
For future brighter days.

Future days not bright enough for me
to look at and determine why
Or wonder then plainly see
Even when plans fold and die.

Even when heavy in spirit so
I need you then
Before I get too old
Perhaps just a friend.

A hug, a kiss, a peck on the cheek
Some kind of embrace
To raise my peak
This is all I ask face to face.

I need you for all my tomorrows
So I may understand my yesterdays
But yet bear the pains and sorrows
For future brighter days.
                                            Jan. 2006

(C)2006
the heat of the city
feel it what a pity
for the brothers and sisters who
have 2 come to work for a living as they
living in the city
my Lord what a day!
it finally came my way
to see another god-forsaken heated day.
it's summer time!
summertime---
and the living is hell
can you tell?
from sweat coming off my forehead feeling
thristy and half dead.
yes it's summertime!
it's a hot july
and that's no lie
it's hotter in july, august, september
or did you forget or did u remember
how the summer of long ago was?
it's summertime--
and the living is hell
can you tell?
when the weather is dry?
fish stopped jumping
and that girl is good looking
so rush everybody
to the ac inside...

july 2002
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