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 Nov 2015 Lilly frost
Justin G
I do not identify myself as a black american
I do not identify myself as an activist
I do not identify myself
As anything other than what I am
Do not arbitrate my existence
It will only magnify your bigotry
Do not lecture me
It will not ratify your ministry
Do not objectify my identity
Do not marginalize my sincerity
I know your criticism
It will not dwindle me
I am defiantly deaf to it
It will not compute
Trust me
It will only intensify
What I occupy
Do not subject me to anomaly
Do not try and direct me
I will not comply
Do not concern yourself
with my essentiality
I am not lost
Do not concern yourself
With what defines me
Just ask
If I am willing and able.
 Nov 2015 Lilly frost
Anabel
there may be
millions of rain drops
but they all come
from the same storm
and the storm always says
the same thing

i’m not telling what though
you’ll have to sit
and listen
Try as we might, we never win
We lose sight, fall into sin
We still fight, never to win
It is never bright, always too dim

And the enemy at the gates
They keep on calling
We are victims of the fates
We keep on falling

No matter what we say, no one hears
Troubles never far away, too many fears
In our pain we pay, rewarded with tears
The sun will never stay, rain never clears

And the enemy at the gates
They keep on calling
We are victims of the fates
We keep on falling

We can't take anymore, it takes too long
Crawling on the floor, not feeling strong
We are victims of what for, always being wrong
Always looking for the door, waiting to hear that song

And the enemy at the gates
They keep on calling
We are victims of the fates
We keep on falling
Copyright © Chris Smith 2010
Hello, don't hang up
I know you don't know me
But I believe I know you
I know your dreams
I know your desires
Of the darkest seduction
From a strangers voice
Of how I would use you
But strict with kindness
Punish you with lusts
Lusts yet unknown to you
Lusts to ravish your body
To please you in many ways
All the ways you dream of
Would you dare to know me?
Would you dare return my call?
Don't be afraid of the dark
All you need do is step inside
All you need do is use the phone
Dial my number, I dare you
Copyright © Chris Smith 2014
I am something small
Never seen, always there
A reflection of another time
Wanting to feel, hear me
For I am a complication
I am someone but no one
One lost amongst the crowd
Just a drop in the ocean
Copyright © Chris Smith 2013
Get out of my thoughts
Get out of my mind
I have to forget you
And leave you behind

But every time I see your face
Every time you come close
I'm filled with this awful grace
I try to resist but have no choice

I love you, and I will always do
Although I know you're blind
I know I cannot forget about you
But please get out of my mind
How Many Calories in a Poem?


visualizing the invisible,
we deconstruct the content,
the in-titled label reviewed,
querying,
is this one worth the cost?

looking for true fiber,
then further inquire,
perchance,
are there grams of
kick-starting emotive proteins,
stored and lurking within,
homes for the cells
that will inspire, transform,
mere readers into mountainous writers

lean on those scripts,
injected with just hints,
resting ribbons of flavorful fat equipped,
for there will always be
the tyranny
of the those of the sparse faith,
those writers of haiku brevity,
believers that
fat free,
is the only,
but lonely,
bene of beauty

death from ignorance to those
who would poison the fruit
of the alphabet tree,
coat produce, with glossy chemicals,
that preserve the shiny exteriors,
cooking up false feasts interior,
saturating us with the trans-fats of trite,
oily verbosity and labels of organic,
that conceal the risks of
hyper-pretensivity

an every poem, seasoned for taste,
a dash of diamond sea salts,
scatter on pinches of pearls
of Caribbean cane sugar,
sprinkle human sins and cinnamon
for zest and tang,
for inspiration and flavoring,
for the souls tonguing tastebuds,
needy for reasons
to celebrate  commissioning
the enticing exhalations of appreciative
oohs and ahs!

Warning!
this poem was processed
in a old, out-of-date factory,
that is most assuredly not,
nat-nut free*

but even if allergic,
be unafraid to taste the acerbic,
for there are
poems
suited for everyones, even your
peculiarities

you want your essayed poems
to brim healthy caloric,
grow them as offshoots
of your very own organs

you need not seek anothers certification,
if filled they are
with the mettle of iron,
built to be
calcium-fortified structures,
with the perpetual strong bones
of rhyme and sonnet

let each worded edifice
be the food,
stored to be gifted
to our progeny,
by their ever living on,
marking us,
marking them

omit the trite,
we ken no need,
for it is the false emptiness of
misleading carbohydrates,
that only fatten,
for the briefest satisfaction,
purposed for the killing of fulfilling,
dulling that which only
a well prepared
dish poetic,
can bring to healthy enliven
the human spirit




Nov. 12, 2015
Aboard Delta #2499
5:10 pm
when you are trying to lose weight, you obsess about bad calories
in everything...
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