Let's hold out hope for the crippled.
Hope for the crippled?
No thanks, this crip doesn't need your hope.
This crip needs you to stop.
Stop labeling me.
Stop feeling sorry for me.
Stop pitying me and my 'poor life'
Just ******* stop!
No, really, I'm okay. I don't need you.
I don't need you or your miracles.
Don't tell me God works miracles
And to hold out hope
Because maybe one day I'll walk
Or maybe I'll get to see from both eyes
Because God works miracles
But you're too busy fixing what isn't broken that you forget
If I was truly made in his image this crip doesn't need healed.
This crip doesn't need your prayers or miracles.
This crip doesn't need your God or your salvation.
This crip doesn't need your hope.

Poor soul, she's diminished by her disability.
Diminished by my disability?
The only thing I'm diminished by
Is your inability to understand
That before anything else I am human.
I make mistakes and have flaws.
I feel, probably more than most,
And sometimes those feelings get in the way.
I empathize but I am done sympathizing.

You say my wheelchair is a blessing in disguise.
Why can't it just be a blessing?
A blessing that comes with lots of lessons.
Some that I learn the hard way and some that come easy.
But this wheelchair doesn't need a reason
To teach me (or you) a lesson.
Sure, it frustrates me when a wheel breaks or I fall on a broken sidewalk
But it teaches me humility and patience.
And there's no reason to disguise that this wheelchair is a blessing.

So, please take your hope and pity
Your guilt and salvation elsewhere
Because they're defeating the purpose. They're detracting from the point.

I am not diminished by my disability.
I am not to be quieted or pitied
I am not your reason to feel guilty
I am not a burden
I am human.

Mutted sounds
The city sleeps... traditional
Rest...closed shutters
Against the heat....skies white
Blinding, implacable
Brurnt, liquid: coupolas baking
Through centuries of glazed splendor
My lover's breath on old fashioned
Sheets: starched, crip...ironed flat
Our bodies recouping
In the cool inner wall... welcomed presence
Nary a sound...inanimate objects
Enrobed in silence
Languid , heavy, waiting for the shadows
Announcing night's fresh enconter.
Colette Anne Naegle

copyrights 2005

Let it flood let it drip,
Let a piru **** a crip,
Let it rain let it flood,
**** a ckrab kuz I cklaim blood,
Let it rain let it thunder,
Bury a ckrab 6 feet under,
When I die show no pity,
Bring my soul to red blood bity,
Can't stop won't stop,
Ck all day till my red dawgz drop,
Throw the red flag raisin,
Nd the blue flag burnin,
Boom boom the blue ckrabs is dyin,
Ck all day ery day!!

i think you're really weird.
you freak.
you food network geek.
and your worn out converse.
with the ribbon tied.
to the left side of course.
that's the crip side.
you're a "hipster".
you're "scene".
more like obscene.
purple skinny jeans.
black ones too.
blue, dark and light.
average height.
you prefer the night.
but you're afraid of the dark.
your bite is much worse than your bark.
always have a smart *** remark.
your heart is black and cold.
you're a ***** and it's getting old.
and sometimes your eyes twitch.
your thighs are big, waist is small.
therefore your pants fall, constantly.

i think you're really weird.
you're so strange.
deranged? that too.
you shoot imaginary guns.
you are tons of crazy.
lazy, messy, creepy.
always sleepy, always awake.
you bake, you daydream, you imagine.
ways to create, new things to try.
you're still fly, since 1991.
second to none, last to many.
give away pennies, you don't like change.
you exchange smiles with strangers.
dress with style, walk with swag.
peculiar in every way.
your favorite skies are gray.
cries too much, tries too hard.
your underarm is scarred.
uncanny charm, mismatched socks.
outside the box.
wide-eyed and innocent.
well, to an extent.
you love british accents.
skittish and laid back.
crack a joke from time to time.
you're sublime, sometimes.
you climb molehill sized mountains.
you fulfill wishes and crush dreams.

i think you're really weird.
crooked fingers, straight smile.
singing all the while.
you'll swing when you get the chance.
dance in front of the mirror.
you see things clearer now.
you wish you had wings.
or to swim with the fishes.
on the brim of insanity.
live on a whim, think too much.
such a tragedy with a happy ending.
bending the rules.
love is for fools, not you of course.
chew with your mouth closed please.
always lose your keys.
bruise easily.
it's hard for you to choose.
you're a bard, look it up.
cup half empty, glass half full.
pull the wool over their eyes.
in disguise, a mustache will do.
few understand, many just nod.
odd, pinky promise until death.
morning breath all day long.
these are the lyrics to your song.
you seize their hearts in one fatal swoop.
then drop and shatter them.
mindless chatter, intelligent conversations.
deprived of any patience.
plenty of empathy though.
don't know which way to go.
imperfectly perfect, born to stray.

i think i'm really weird.
and i wouldn't have it any other way.

I just need a minute
To express the sadness
I felt when I read about this crude act of madness
The innocence of a child... doesn't deserve this
This level of violence on a child? God will not forget... the memory, He preserves this
Whoever you are... whatever your reason
A fate worse than hell... that fiery prison
The shooter deserves this
A child
That is who you killed... a child
An innocent soul... not a Crip, not a Blood
You will never see the day when you can get rid of the stain left by a little one's blood
I just need a minute... to write this
May God give those affected the strength to fight this... injustice
And to the madman... it shall haunt you beyond the grave we know
Poetic justice
But nothing we write/say/do can undo this unnecessary act of violence
However, let's just take a minute to pay our respects
Let's have a moment of silence.

We as people should try our hardest to be our best. Our generation is fading... We are stuck on stupid. Not to be offensive , but yes, we are. We are surrounded by things that eat at our knowledge like vultures on a carcass. Tweeting, Facebooking, Myspacing, and IMing. I admit it, I am a victim of this social crime, but I am beginning to realize that  we are not using our brains like those before us had to. What happened to reading and writing?  Why do we think we can just do everything on our Iphones now?  I know we are now becoming a technological era, but do we really have to do EVERYTHING this way?



Ok. On to the next rant.



Why is it okay for everyone to speak like they have not had any home training? Excuse me, some haven't but, you could at least try to improve yourself. I don't think I'm better than anyone because I have a better vocabulary or even because I was raised to speak with correct grammar and enunciate my words. I do admit I don't speak "proper" all the time; I joke around, but that's the keyword: "joke"  I don't care about the idiots that say "Oh, she's 'trying to be white'  "  I am content with that, even though I'm not trying to be anything but myself. I am content with them saying that because at least I will have an opportunity to do something with my vocabulary and my way of speaking. Maybe some people should try it.



Hmm.. What else?



Oh! Boy don't let me forget about the "hood" life thing. Okay, "little gangster" , is your "mob" going to help you get a job?  Believe me, writing "crip gang" on your job application is NOT going to help you. Those people do not care what hood you are repping when you come in for an interview. They barely care about your name... Get with the program people!! Also, ladies, it is not cute to try to be in a gang or even trying to do "hood" things... LIVE OUTSIDE OF YOUR STEREOTYPE!  My black people... some of you, about 59%, are making those stereotypes stick.  I am sooo tired of seeing black people gang banging, fighting, killing each other, skipping class, smoking, drinking, getting pregnant, and etc.  Come on guys, we are a great nation of people.. We should improve, not get worse. We are already a minority. Our people DIED to get us where we are today. Take advantage of what we have.. Education, rights, freedom(somewhat), and opportunity. Don't blame the whites or Mexicans because you can't get off YOUR *** to do YOUR job. Please...

We like to dance
Feet moving in a trance
Transition to a different stance
All of us jump and prance

We get in a groove
People’s rhythmic motion is smooth
The head banging is proof
Dancer’s enjoying the beat and *****

With Deejay YouTube on rotation
Music revives the good sensation
As boys and girls pair up to charleston
The vibe is lively in Camden

Everyone is revelling
In the style of crip walking
Zimmer frames towards the ceiling
As the old start break dancing

With each poem,
I get closer in becoming a lovable Golem.

So what's hot in the streets
I’m mean
I beat women,
OG
I’ve seen prison
I even eat kittens
We winning
Mr. Kelly met me
he let me *** with him.

I’m so deep with words it could sound like an eternity
one day they will close read my rhymes in every university
I only make vinyls
and I serve emcees that burn CDs,
I’m so undergrounds even my fans haven’t even heard of me,
nah,
I got money son,
all my watches are custom done
by the time
I set the time
my butler comes with another one
I’m gutter son,
the razors in my mouth are just to cut my gums,
My facebook is set to private son
you don’t know where the **** I’m from

Imma poet,
roses are red
Moses ovaries bled
Supernova explodes,
when my pen exposes it led.
I once mounted a soul, when its body was chemically dead,
If you don’t know my poetries dope, its because its going over your head,
nah,

I’m so Hip Hop I crip walk in flip flops,
Imma mix of Rick ross, and lil kris kross,
Imma gang banger
nah,
scratch that, imma backpacker,
rap is just a stepping stone in becoming a bad actor,
imma crack rapper,
actually sponsor by arm and hammer
I **** with some proper grammar
make government propaganda
What ever it takes to get my face in front a hundred cameras
**** rap!
I’ll tell everyone in the stands to throw their hands up,

What I am
should be obvious.

Imma positive rapper I swear my mom is a pastor
I got a pocket quran
I almost read all of the chapters,
and Imma get a couple grammys,
yep and an emmy,
I'm family friendly,
even your old freakin granny gets me.

Back in the day when life gave us lemons
we made lemonade
never straight
never made a track that was second grade
In seventh grade
it was never about getting paid
thats why we spend more money than we ever made,
I used to love it but **** it,
I’m giving up
imma puppet,
I’m anything,
I’m everything, if you got money in your pocket
Congratulations to sponsors on creating a monster
All you haters are just making me stronger

And now all my fans hate me,
They say “I liked you before you were mainstream”
******* so did I somebody should of paid me
Imma Iconic,
byproduct,
And no ones tryna buy product,
Ironic,
want my chronic
but won’t put five on it,
but I promise,
give me an idea and i’ll build it,
I make your eyes pop out of your eye sockets,
so y’all can go ahead and be some hip hop heads,
pressing free download’,
until hip hops dead,
Please,
just keep on spitting
just keep on spitting
make sure you keep on spitting
just keep on spitting
make sure you keep on spitting
just keep on spitting
just keep on spitting
Please!!!