I’m supposed to write you a poem,
About the love I have for you,
I’m supposed to write you a poem,
About how you make the sky blue.
But that simply is not true.
Saying your smile makes my stomach churn,
Or that my heart is tightened by a string,
For all I care, every one of these words can burn.
Because my love, they would not describe a thing.

You see Mon Amour, I am not very good with words,
Yet I feel that would not help anyways,
When I see you my voice flies away like the birds,
As I’m stuck with my mind in a daze.
My heart begins to pump, as adrenaline hits,
Confounded by your beauty in more ways than one,
Suffocating my brain and removing me of my wits,
Holding my voice back, as the words escape at a run.

It is not that you are not beautiful, smart, and everything in between,
It is that whatever can describe you, is nothing I have ever seen.

You're a ******,
you're a ****,
essentially everything I don't like.
Living your life,
with separate values, dreams, goals,
yet who is going to save your soul?
You love other men,
while I'm for women,
you drink alcohol,
which is a sin too,
but what hurts me the most...
Is I am not free like you.

Who are you to tell me,
that inhaling a plant's smoke is bad..?
Should I no longer stand by the fire?
for fear of filling my lungs?
Why do you care,
if my child does not know your god?
My god is bigger, and bolder, and better,
so why don't your children listen?
What is it to you,
if I want to die?
Leave this world which I no longer love,
yet, you cut my wings so that I cannot fly.

I'm getting tired,
for you are not that light,
my back is breaking.
I carry you like a mother monkey does,
despite your sagging layer of love,
except I no longer feel the strength of my heart,
and so my back is breaking.

The thought... idea... notion.
That you will leave me someday,
leaves me hollow as a log,
with maggots eating my heart, like your body.
Knowing what we have,
will once be what we had,
lost in the fog of our memories,
with no road back.
That day will come...
Possibly quicker than I think.
Yet until that day comes,
I dare not blink.

My vision is clouded,
but that doesn't stop me from seeing,
yet my decisions are continuously clouded.
Our connections holds me tight,
like the noose around my neck,
yet I choose to hang here,
because what is clear merely brings me fear.

The sunlights shadow gleams upon your face,
as if God had crafted it himself,
yet he took longer than just six days,
because you were not some model on the shelf...
Your skin stole what smoothness silk once had,
and your hair rolls like thunder off your shoulders
your voice would make birds jealous and mad,
while I merely listen and crave.
I hunger for your words to fill me,
fill my love's insatiable thirst,
to hold me is to set me free,
but I must find you first.

Upon the cliff I stand alone,
after facing such harsh weathers,
standing up with a mighty grown,
as my clothes are torn to tethers.
Looking down at the blood I have shed,
the wounds which have healed,
the scars blanketing my head.
They are merely God's surprises,
never truly a danger,
coming from life's disguises,
from a lover to a stranger.
And yet you are different in a different way,
with words as smooth as silk,
and a voice like a mockingbird.
You wrap the wounds of my heart,
which the sweetest phrase.
I love you flew into my head,
and set my heart ablaze...


This fire burned every scar,
melting my skin and heart,
removing every tiny mar,
and letting me restart.

I wake up every morning and think:
"I am a free man, I will do what I want.".
So I walk through my comfortable, three bedroom, two story home with a fully furnished basement, proper neighborhood and a good school.
I go eat breakfast with that stupid rabbit,
which is my favorite form of self- loathing,
Then I dress in my tightest jeans,
that my friend Tommy told me I needed.
I awkwardly shuffled to my car,
whose red color emphasizes my power,
at least thats what the salesman told me...
So I drive on these roads I payed for,
passing by the people whose lives don't exist,
to go to work and pay for:
The car which shows my success,
the jeans which makes me as attractive as success,
the cereal I drown my sorrows in,
and the house which lives my broken dreams.

So I have a blog I just started, only a few articles are in it but I hope to discuss how things evolve and come to be in society with media, politics and so on... So check it out, feel free to talk ****, comment, joke, etc. Maybe you can see where some of my poems stem from (probably not).
http://dirtymittens.wordpress.com/

My voice explodes from within my soul,
hatred stemming from my broken heart,
blinded by smoke from your heart of coal,
wondering how we tore apart.
While fire emanated from our love,
the heat became too hot to handle,
I should wear a glove when holding you,
but my insatiable hunger I cannot resist.
You are the dinner I have slaved for,
a great idea, soon to be a chore.
Like a child biting a hot meal,
only to be reprimanded by mother,
a kiss from you I will steal,
even if the smoke does smother.

Hold me in your arms tonight,
release me of all my fright,
be my bodyguard for my mind,
to the real world I am blind,
by puppet strings I hung,
until I was no longer young,
you made me walk on my own,
able to withstand every stone.

My heart is a cave,
a home...
For animals who live in shadows,
my pathos,
which once shined upon,
removes all doubt,
glowing as a ghost-white sun.
Remove this light of your love,
and these shadows crawl back into their hole,
the caverns within the cave of my heart,
where there lives my long lost soul.
If you continue with the light,
that emits from your charitable love,
you can hold my hand through this fight.
Lead me through this maze,
into resurrection,
implode my heart,
devouring itself.
Yet I am reborn from the ashes of my past,
like a phoenix in the sky,
with you as my guide,
I fly with my wings spread vast,
a redeeming cry,
and you by my side.




And nothing could be better.

Release me from this sick reprieve,
let me submit to myself,
like the black sheep,
I am not meant to be.
Let me drown myself in envy,
allow me to erupt with hate,
let go and have me fall into myself,
which is wrought with darkness.
I do not admit the black of my free will,
nor do I shut it out,
but for me there is no magic light pill,
I just must live through this light drought.

Your hair is the noose around my neck,
which you chose to cut before I fell.
Your eyes are the pool I drown in,
but you blink and splash me out.
Your words are the venom of my ears,
luckily, the kiss you give me is the antidote.
You are the oxygen which I breath,
and nothing bad can come of that.

We are raised with society surrounding us,
yet we feel the need to distinguish,
in-group ourselves with the outliers,
to live with our anguish.
In doing so we gain some right,
believing that different makes us better,
rather than live in that ignorant shroud,
and stand together loud and proud.
What we don't understand is in our drive to survive,
and seem entirely different,
we ourselves have joined a society,
and with that we have fallen into proprieties.
Hot Topic,  and the slop that is gangster,
we wear to create a wall,
between us and conforming society,
who unlike us never heard the call.
The call to greatness,
the call to art,
the call to pimping,
we all had a start.
And now we sit in our ****** homes,
(trying to) make money by day ,
thinking where we went wrong.
How did I fall out with so many opportunities,
where did I fall off the wagon?

Well kid, it happened when your pants started saggin,
when you wore the black to stick out from the white,
when you refused to try because nobody "got it",
and when you were always looking for a fight.
It's easy to put the blame on someone else,
how else can you live with such dissonance?
Maybe if you had shut up and listened,
instead of dirt you would be the one who glistened.

With my body decomposing,
and life ebbing away,
will I be forgotten?
lost in life's sway.
Who will be there to identify my body,
will someone shed tears of sadness,
at what was lost which I embodied.
Or will there be those who stand and smile,
knowing I am finally gone,
a good riddance that I breathed my last,
as I am everything which is wrong.
Alas, could it come to,
my name being lost,
left to die at an unmarked grave,
forgotten before rotten.

We act as if we are different,
that this scenario doesn't match us,
so why should I help?
I am a lion crying for my forest,
why should I stop the penguin's glaciers from melting?
"They will just have more area to swim..."
I am a businessman working for my family,
why should I give my hard earned money to the dying?
"They should work past their problems... Like I did!"
I am an artist who lives within themselves,
my life is harder than that homeless man's.
"He probably does drugs anyways...".
And we move on,
set on our personal goals,
never looking back,
but expecting all others to at least glance.

You are so stupid,
you conform to every group,
letting your opinions be molded like clay,
by the power play within these coups.
Create a coup within the coups,
called thinking outside the box,
use your head and lead the others,
for they are lost themselves,
do not stand blind among them,
walking towards hell.

I'm cold,
so cold,
be my sun and shine on me,
be the energy to give me a gleam.
I'm selfish,
so selfish,
so succumb to my needs,
be my mother's ****,
comfort me and let me eat.
Now I am alive,
and you are cold,
but I still need more,
I will be so bold,
and leave you on the floor,
as my insatiable thirst for strength grows,
I will turn away and raise my nose,
for when you die it is not my fault,
you gave to much,
so take that worth a grain of salt.

For what it's worth,
I love you,
yet you are the fish that will feed my soul,
and I only have a spear.
So here I am in between a rock and a hard place,
as I debate on whether to capture you just for me?
Or will I be generous and let you be free..?
In the end, you swim away,
so I will stay,
and keep on fishing.

We attempt to victimize,
those who we believe tell us lies,
but we do not take time to sympathize,
instead we drown out their cries,
with thoughts of our future prize,
and how we will one day reach the skies,
and then we can be wise,
and attempt to apprise,
those who we once chastised,
but it is too late and it is us they despise,
they see no compromise,
as we are the cause of their demise,
it is too late to revise,
why do you show surprise?
when you stepped on their rise,
spouting **** like "everyone dies",
meanwhile your have grown in size,
thanks to stealing their supplies,
and murdering their allies,
all so you can excuse yourself from seeing the pain in their eyes.

You think you are someone of great strength in mind,
as you belittle all the people around you,
for the sake of not appearing kind,
because it was the only thing you knew.
Taught to be tough and a big boy,
you can go and use a gun as a toy,
become accustomed to the ability to destroy.
As you see nothing wrong from stealing the light in one's eyes,
being the artist of their demise,
as you ruin their families lies.
BANG, BANG, BANG,
goes the gun in your hand,
over a dead body you stand,
just as you planned.
Put that hit on that sonofabitch,
it went off without a hitch,
now you a man who put someone in a ditch.
The only sacrifice is morality,
but you are so young, you don't see the brutality,
only the gangster mentality,
so you can live in the violent normality,
not realizing that you have lost touch with reality.
But that is a life that no longer belongs,
replaced by coke, *** and bongs,
you will never know that what you do is wrong,
until you hear the bell's gong,
and it is you who is gone.

Here I am again,
drunk, alone, tired...
I cannot sleep,
although not due to lack of effort.
Thoughts running through my head,
skipping over my qualms,
about how much I love you,
enough to make me have sweaty palms.
Making me think of the dumb cheesy poems,
which I would write with love in my heart,
because you cause such joy for me,
but you are so far away,
I live life in solitude,
keeping the ****** at bay.
But it isn't that which tears me apart,
because I could **** anyone...
it is because of the setting sun I see ahead,
while you see the rising sun.

It is going too fast,
like the speed of light,
I used to wait so long,
now it is out of sight.
Looking back and seeing it gone,
faster than the blink of an eye,
one second morning,
next its dawn.
Nothing I can hold,
grasp real close,
only fading memories,
of when I wish time froze.

I am the oppressed,
and you are the master,
holding me since birth,
as I am evolutions disaster.
I have a tendency for violent outbreaks,
created by institutionalized racism,
they say be "normal", there are choices...
yet within our beliefs there is a chasm.

For I was born without an option,
and went where I was led,
my only freedom was my adoption,
into the gangs for whom I bled.

While society cites me as a statistic,
I am just an average man,
pushed to the point of being sadistic,
because for the blacks there is no plan.

Do not group me with the heathens,
or make me out to be a sociopath,
I went where I saw life's beacons,
and as a child I was caught in that wrath.

Someday this will all end,
that day that I will be dead,
revolution will strike society,
like a bullet in the head.

Sirens screaming in the distance,
searching for a victim,
a black man hiding in the shadows,
running from his life's battles.
Since the ripe age of fourteen,
he went to school in pain and death,
fond of the power of a weapon,
and the ability to steal someone's breath.
Taught that the only way to be,
is the life of an O.G.,
the hood is all you got,
that is until you are caught.
In the jail the oppression continues,
with the pigs up high,
and the blacks down below,
with this dynamic, the resentment will grow.
When the victim is finally out,
expected to fit into society,
yet this setback put him on the wrong route,
only seen for his notoriety.
So who are we to blame him,
when he sees stars within drugs,
all his opportunities are now dim,
pushing him back in with the thugs.

We expect him to grow and move on,
but the pressure on his head won't allow such bliss,
the only way out is the way with the gun,
such is the life when on the run.

I was drunk off love,
but now I'm hungover.
Your kiss was the last shot I had,
before I threw up my words,
regretting them now that I'm sober...
The hangover cure,
is grab another beer,
and find a nice young lass.
This cures the pain,
but not the problem,
as I drink this love like a drain.

You ripped my heart out,
like the dentist ripped my tooth,
grinding at my plaque,
and cutting out my vein.
pick and flick every bit,
to make me shine again.

Your words a fissure in my heart,
crumbling it apart,
split in two, by you.
Like a giant you stomped your feet,
causing earthquakes in the street,
and I am merely a fearful boy,
who looked up to you,
only to see you destroy.
Now I lie with my dreams dripping out,
in the form of that warm red liquid,
soaking into the seeds of doubt,
all because of what you did.

Me sitting here,
you sitting there,
feelings between us of despair.
Awkward eye contact,
with impending doom,
tensions rise in the room.
You stand up,
I stay seated,
things are starting to get heated...
Then you stop and just walk away,
and now I must choose whether to stay,
I stay.

The power you hold merely an illusion,
a smokescreen created by your denial,
believing yourself to be a god,
that you are the judge in this trial.
Recognize your faults and rise above,
recognize your inability,
acting with hate instead of love,
now it is time to accept reality.
You are the same as I,
created by a simple science,
so lose the false sense of superiority,
and come and walk beside me.

The sun goes down every day,
slowly taking its time,
everyday it is the same way,
living like this should be a crime.
Everything around me is at a standstill,
like Atlantis, abandoned and desolate,
I stand alone atop this hill,
staring down upon that hell,
upon my failure I dwell.
Thinking of how I will never escape,
doomed to live out life in this prison,
my heart has gone and flown away,
while I will stay until I'm old and gray.

I am so scared to die,
but not because it is the end,
because saying goodbye,
and leaving you to mend.
When I think of my life passing,
I do not think of my goals gone,
or any lost opportunity.
I think of  you waking up at dawn,
without my arms for security,
or the warmth from my body,
the safety which I had embodied.
I think of how you will not laugh before bed,
or dance in the living room,
you will sit and think of how I am dead,
and how your heart is filled with gloom.
I'm so scared of death,
but not just for me,
the idea of not hearing your breath,
would leave me lost at sea.

It is frustrating,
truly infuriating,
how I just cannot seem to get it right.
Every night,
I write words down,
and watch them turn to ****.
I write of love,
and hate,
or neither...
I write and write and write,
until I take a mental breather,
only to realize my brain has lost its light,
covered in mold that is its blight.
And I have these feelings in my heart,
which threaten to tear me apart,
and no matter what I do,
I cannot get it through,
of how I am in love with you,
or how I grew,
to hate that view....
And other ****.

We could have baked the best brownies in town,
ones' filled with warm gooey love,
or cooked the best cake around,
so that people would think it came from above.
We planned on making a flavourful omelette,
which would satisfy us for years,
with colored foods of green, red or even violet,
anything except our tears.
Our plans built up like they often do,
holding us down like a chain on our legs,
eventually our plans fell through,
I guess we waiting to long and became bad eggs.

Turn on the news and what do you see?
A dead child, and overflowing seas.
Go outside and what do you see?
A beautiful sky and peace with the trees.
Let me sell my joy in life,
to watch others live in strife.
Or I could take a step outside,
and realize what it is like to be alive.

Why is it that every time I finally get it within my grasp,
it slips away like water through a strainer.
So close to what I need, desire, admire,
willing to drop everything for that one chance,
but every time.
Every God ****** time,
it slips away,
out of my hands,
onto the floor,
where it crashes; painting the floor with my failure,
over my other fresh coat of dreams.

I'm afraid to get old like you,
watching you die has had its effect,
becoming incoherent and without a clue,
living life as if a defect.
You once were so young,
so powerful,
so strong.
Now you lay in bed,
needles in your arms,
everything flying over your head,
thinking you may as well be dead.
I don't want to become old like you.

I cannot get anything down.
I squeeze and suffocate,
choke the words out,
waterboarded with books,
until there is some water in this ******* drought.
Blame it for the lack of ingenuity,
for the life-long ambiguity,
how I cannot get my message out,
no matter how much I scream and shout.
The more I write the brighter I burn,
but like a fire I go out,
forgetting everything that I learn,
lost in the smoldering embers of doubt.

I can't say what I want to you,
because it is held up in my chest,
I want to scream and let it out,
but I fear that is not best.
They always say never show your hand,
for a modest man is admirable,
but now I must make my stand,
and put myself all in,
by telling you that I love you.
It is not just a love that you see in the flicks,
or the type that you read in the books,
my love is like a thousand bricks,
landing upon your head.................

**** the formalities. **** the artistry.
There is no art in love,
there are no metaphors,
similes,
onomatopoeias...
There is only that unheard of force which keeps me going,
the battery to my soul,
the engine to my heart.
There is only that unheard of lift when I hear your voice,
it flies me above the clouds,
letting me see what I can be.
The only art which I can see,
which involves loves beauty,
is the masterpiece that the lord made,
when he graced us with you my fair maid.

Tie that noose around my throat,
and push me off that ledge,
watch my neck snap as I hang afloat,
and make a personal pledge.
The audience perks up,
you let out your howl,
decimating my name,
and putting me to shame.
I will never be like the man I see,
I am different and I am me.
This man has done acts of treason,
from adultery to lying,
all for no reason.
Did we not give him love as he had needed?
Did we not give advice that was never heeded?
Yet he threw us down and turned his back,
backbone and morality he does lack,
I will destroy his name before I destroy his life,
because I am his love, I am his wife.

Dissonance is when you are met with a contradiction.
You go through life with no qualms,
eating everyday the preservatives you love,
forgetting the places where we just dropped bombs,
dropped upon children; as if gods from above.
Men and women are murdered every day,
but we have the power to keep that at bay,
with our expertise in the art of ******,
your country is our flock and we are the herder.
But every few days or so,
a report will come up on T.V.,
how the problem will grow,
but not to worry, it will never effect me.
So I live my life with my T.V. shows,
going to parties and drinking too much,
not thinking of the children who made my clothes,
and how my comfort is due to their touch.
Until one day a new report is up,
how the war has not worked and people are dying,
the reporter doesn't bat an eye during his close up,
when they show the children crying.
Dissonance appears in my heart,
my head, my body and my soul.

"How can I be so happy and free?
with someone living so below me.
I should help, I should fight,
show those heathens what is right.
Let the world know that this is wrong,
maybe I'll even write a song."

Then my brain recognizes its bounds,
settles down and grabs a coke,
I'll just do a few more rounds,
of sitting and telling a joke.
That makes it easier for me,
to laugh instead of aid,
for I know they are not free,
but soon their voices will fade,
and I can comfortably forget their plea.

Hey kid, let's go waste life away,
create our lives by learning from each other,
being told not to go astray,
but we would never bother.
Let's go make one another,
create your life with the sins of mine,
spend nights drinking cheap wine,
while passing smoke with the night.
Like the secondhand smoke you send to me,
it is not fresh like the wine in my glass,
but stale like our love, which has come to pass.
Let us drink ourselves to death,
staring deeply into one other's eyes,
not taking a breath.
Until the last drop is drunk,
the last spliff smoked,
pass the smoke of the last hit,
each let off a cough as we choked.
Letting the smell slip off,
the drink drip out,
we fall asleep on our own side of the bed,
in between us lays our doubt.

Let me undress your heart,
look upon it's naked curves,
let me give it that jump start,
with feelings that play on your nerves.
Let me love you and feel you,
holding you close to me,
between us electric shocks flew,
like a defibrillator,
resurrecting our lives,
into the one we once knew.

My lips are cracked and dry,
my insides longing to be quenched,
nourish me please with your kiss,
and let my throat be drenched.
Your love fills my heart like a cold glass of water,
shocking at first; yet settles soon,
but with your kiss my blood begins to boil  hotter,
and my insides warm up like a smoldering Georgia June.
You make my heart pump ten times fast,
just to make my brain work fast,
because my words have left my mouth,
when you back away from my face,
my cheeks are hotter than summer down south,
and slowly my heart gains its pace.
You are the engine to my soul,
the fuel for my heart,
the final piece which makes me whole,
the fire which makes me start.

I just want you happy,
with a smile on your face,
a golden gleam in your eye,
and your smile filled with grace.
I just want you to love,
feel the joy explode out,
warming all who surround you,
shocking them like an untimely shout.
Alas, you cannot always get what you want,
and with me here,
you will not find that hidden ecstasy,
that much is clear.
With me by your side,
you will find yourself lost,
warm in your heart,
but surrounded by frost.
My love, my life, my darling,
take that final step with me,
escape from this jail,
grow your wings and fly free...


And when we are lost in the darkened sky,
and you begin to question why?
I will be there by your side,
waiting for you to become my bride.

The symbol of death,
life flying by,
the desolate end within sight.
We can still be pretty,
we can still stand strong,
like a flower fighting the frost.
Do not let your life become a pity,
do not let the people sing your song,
do not let your be lost.
Grow like the vine,
gripping everything you see,
stab like the rose,
letting them know you will not flee.

You are the chips with saturated fat,
slowing my blood to a halting standstill,
making my insides the vile food of rats.
You are the cake which suffocates my heart,
causing it to over- exert,
turning my death into your food art.
You are the food I never learned not to have, the fat of the meat,
colorful as a bed of roses, but filled with mud,
So let me sit down, and let's eat.

Our love was like those cigarettes you smoked,
so hot it can put a hole in your heart,
the smoke fills our veins and we began to choke,
and the cigarette died before the fire could start.