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Our day of reckoning
has cometh
So may I suggest that you
sit back  as we
plummet
And may I suggest
that you all   just sit back
and take note
Scope out this word art
LOOK
See how my pen floats
Which is
Mightier than the Sword Art
Ad libs and spammed quotes
So please
Lay witness to the School
Smarts
As I choose to break art
And  the rules
Man I pity a damnéd fool
But have no time to tell
Jokes
So knock knock on the door
To your presidential claim
Culture Shock
Forget Fame
Who aims to cast vote?
On just another
Slight of hand  Magician
Oh?
Just another  Lying
Wonder
Here to flash folk a sign
Blow your mind
On some dumb  Ill advised
Petition
Which was hand written in that
White Snow
Now that's pure dope
Like a coke stench that glistens
But more specific?
I call it the Crack Rock
that comes with the
Numbness
So do you  Blaze?
the dumbness
Or snort?
Little white lies on that
White line
Yo  don't you know
they're playing
games with your mind
Just to rid you of your spine?
Controlling your torso
with them there
Puppet Strings
Get it?
Like a Puppeteer
pulling
puppet strings
That got you  walking the
tight rope
Hypnotized
Believing in false hopes
And strange
Deities
So go ahead  and sit there
As you soak it all up
Put on that dark coat of
Pride
with dignity
Yet  you will soon find
that it's all
blood soaked
in the morse code of a
Secret Society
While loosing all ties to
Sanity
Yo
Welcome to the Mosh Pit
of  Vanity
Proceed
With fits of hysteria
And if all fails?
Hell
You just might as well
Wave the white flag too
If you've lost all Hope
If so?
Then it's R.I.P time to
bury ya
But not all of us are so complacent
and content
Nor are we willing or choose
to live with
This docile vision of
AMERICA

-Written in 2015
At this point I don't trust politicians celebrities or the government... I should have posted this before or even during the election but the timing still seems right, I guess 😒
Peace be my inspiration
For true love and happiness
is what I'm craving
But yet..  I'm fa..ding
Yeah, I'm faded
Yet..  I've had, way too much precious
time spent gettin' stone'd
gettin' bent
Lit at the finger tips as I blast off
at the lip
Now I'm off racing in my Spaceship
Flying high on another
Space trip
Wasted.. and on vacation
to an un-known
location
Wasting my.. vacation
Just living life casually and lavishly
Vicariously
Through the eyes of another
Disguised as another.. in another
Face Off
Yo..  But that's more time wasted
I think it's time to rip., the Mask off
And I know Death is probably thinking?
Yo..  What a R.I.P off
And now I'm wondering where it
all went
Sitting here in an empty room hyperventilating with no.. air-vents
As my thoughts are spent.. vacant
Fixed on dealing with these issues
while feeling.,
Forsaken
Yet sadly mistaken I was when I first trusted the,
Fallen forsaken
See the agents of Satan left me frustrated and.,
Now I need saving
But dämn..
I should of never fell for it
And..
I might even go to Hell for it
But now I'm falling through the basement
further decaying
As I watched my whole world cave in
as I gave in to this world of
Temp-tation
And while having this revelation
I'm now faced with the possibility of
Eternal Damnation
But not just me
But the whole dämn Nation
And while I'm asking I'm thinking.,
What ever happened to the good old
U. S. of A?
Aye..
Cause we as Us can't deny it no more
For our one Nation under God is no more
Yo I seen it in the mourge or either
read it in the., papers
In the obituaries this pass March
or February?
Yo the images are really scary if you really.. Think
about it
Yep.. No doubts about it
Just thinking out loud.. soundly
But I always seem to be, shouting out of the crowd both..
Slightly loudly while quietly mouthing
Shhhh..
The silence is Kíll'n me.. Softly
I guess truth always falls on deaf ears when you refuse to hear what some
may call
Jibberish
Resorting to sheer ignorance
Saying that it's true bliss
Lol.. Now that's nothing but pure
Non- sense
But don't fall for the sales pitch not unless you're willing to sell your soul for just another
Sale's Pitch
If so?
Then you're just another sale's chick
And if that's the case?
Then by all means
Pick up your bat then and
Swing for the Fences
Cause you just
Soul'd Out
Once again another one written 5yrs ago
Ahead of its current time but still relevant to times back then but even more relevant to the current times and events occurring today 🤔
I only changed and added a few things here and there to make it feel personally more relevant
Red Alert! Red
Alert!
Red Flag! New
Blood Alert!!

They say I was
blood
born
They got me cornered
like
Rampage
Who's locked away
inside of a
Steel Cage

Fits of Rage!!

Beat my head against
the
side of the Steel
Cage
Several times
Then I

Blacked Out

Woke up in a
blo#dy
mess
A bloodbath with
Blo#dy fist
In a panic
What is this?!

Or is this just the
color
of my shirt?

Oh No!
On my pants and my
shoes too?!
Man..
Just color me Color-
blind
with a couple la
screws
loose

Cause I'm Black
and
Blue too

The Crip side of me
Sick side of me
inside of me
Inciting me to start
a
riot
Violently

But man..

There's just got to
be
something
seriously wrong with
me?!

So I looked in the
Mirror
to see something looking
back at me

And to my
surprise!!

The silhouette of a
Black Panther
Was glaring back at
me?

Ok Ok..
Now I get it

Like I've been snapped
back to Reality
Back to the ties that
bind
through time
A flash-back to
Originality

Back to my place of
Origin
My Nationality

And so
As I reminisce on the
Power
of the Black Fist
Fused with the anthem of
Black Pride

The Blood Crips N
Unity

So tell me all my Brothers
&
Sisters of the Black-
Community
Raising gunz instead of Fist

Just who am I?
A follow up to" Vipers " Crazy thing is i wrote this 5 yrs ago. Not my story, but the story of a lot of my brothers and sisters caught up in the violent gang infested neighborhoods in our communities.
But as history shows it did not start out that way.. Something to think about 🤔
Nat Lipstadt Jun 2016
~

<>


nearby distant,
the soft thrash of warm waves
lapping interlocking,
happily wet tongue kissing,
sun-oven precision-crisping
the Long Island striped bass
and porgies, at a surreal cooling
77 degrees

Pandora synced to his eyes,
shuffling freely,
by saying
we too see!!
playing for him,
Stairway to Heaven (Led Zeppelin)

poor, poor poet,
strains to brain drain one more time,
conducting an ogling googling word search
for those combinatory storied ones that
sailboat glide
all the while
wildly bursting with Pellegrino effervescence

compromising sounds sights,
to present
properly the balance,
to preserve
properly this moment,
peaceful alive for all times,
as poet has tried,
and failed so many times before...

the caw caw caw of the crow mocks the illiterate human,
for the bird calls it, in single sound perfect and
the human a laughingstock,
for not in his possess,
to capture this perfect moment
of human sabbath.

a Roman Saturn day of rest,
on this day that itself,
is perfection,
perfect for celebrating our common creation,
on a day that our
almost-all-agreed-upon calendar
is marked for us to
forte rest,
from an existence of just laborious

the chubby checkered cheeked squirrels
laughingly pauses,
watching, enjoying a poet's struggle,
mind boggle,
the poet's chubby cheeks
stuffed with discarded words,
all insufficient to capture
the absolution of
absolute beauty

bathing in the noisiest of nature's sounds,
all that contravene the silence of living things,
breathing prayerful thoughts that all
summary end,
with a common gesture of
forefinger upon the lips

a human acknowledgment of
utter obeisance to the forces
calling out by example

listen, see!

silently presenting,
this,
this!!


a day that demanded perfection
wmv Sep 2019
From a Galeano-style piece titled "DISCOVERY":

He can see himself standing there, happier than he is right now. He can see himself with everyone else together, laughing and enjoying life.  But he knows, “That isn’t me”. At least, not yet. But he knows he can choose to be that person who knows who they are. He knows he will discover who he is.

He can see himself, just beyond the veil.

But he won’t cross it. Not until he’s sure it’s himself he’s looking at.
a piece written for an activity in my freshman year english class. meant to emulate the style galeano used in book of embraces.

dated october 20, 2015

roast me fam
Broadsky Aug 2019
Maybe if I could find pills that give me the same effect  you do when you  say “baby” I’d be okay.

you got your college acceptance letter today and I’m so proud, but the minute you sent me that photo my chest collapsed.

I just want you to be happy even though most of me knows you’d be happier else where, I grasp all the time I can get with you like it’s special tokens that will give me life.

I told your mother I loved you and she smiled, she told me she thought i was a good person and that I would be fine in the world; I think she knows you’re going to leave me soon.

my skin crawls, my veins shake, and my stomach flips when I think of the inevitable dust storm that comes every year, hiding my happiness in a blanket of opaque grey, leaving me coughing in the bathroom trying to catch my breath as I mutter through my broken sobs “you’re okay”

but I won’t  be okay

because there isn’t anything like watching you live, getting a second older.

there isn’t anything like feeling you move your face from side to side so you can get deeper in my neck

there isn’t anything like touching your skin, or tasting your tongue, and I’m afraid I’ll never forget your name.
April 15th, 2015
M e l l o Jul 2019
Maybe I should
keep it and bury
it down
in the deepest
part of my soul
and let time
decompose
my feelings
for you
slowly
I wrote this last 2015. 2015 it was the darkest year of my life.
HeWhoExplores Dec 2018
Nihility

The place where all but anything occurs.
Where order and disorder have no meaning.
Where dreams are chased but left unattended.
Where solace is never found, and with all the right reasons.
Where pride is hindered, hurt and paraded with hate.

Nihility
Nat Lipstadt Dec 2015
Time: 7:30 pm
Temp.: 68F

~~~
overlooking the runways,
festooned by
accidental heavenly whimsy,
or humanistic whimsical inten-sity,
all the the planes and trucks are flashing
electrifying speckles, of eclectically synced
red and green

it is not my holiday,
but no matter,
like every New Yorker this day,
I am happily celebrating its
double U,
unique, unusual

"record breaking warmth"

yes, the Fahrenheit is outtasight, and by the dawn of
early eve~night,
the Centigrade is spiraling in reverse retrograde,
as the temp eases on down, just below seventy degrees,
on this dewinterized twenty fourth day of
December, two nought and fifteen

traffic is light, the terminal, an unbusy, slim shadow of itself,
the maddening crowds gone, now all are among
the dearly departed and either/or, the newly arrived

so composition of the observational, brings cheer and smiles to my faith,
(I mean my face),
the crowning quietude of clear skies, the absence of street smart
city  bustle and hustle,
the languid atmosphere at the gates,
(where seldom is heard an encouraging word)#
makes me reconsider the true meaning of
the au courant phraseology of this day

"record breaking warmth"

for there is indeed
a calm invisible warmth suffusing all tonite,
chests glowing from fireplaces within,
contentment chamber containers in both hearth and heart,
and I am thinking
miracle,
about all the human warmth
on this celebrated evening,
holy night

indeed,
it is breaking records of
recorded human fusion,
the united commonality of millions warming
his and her stories world-over,
that your personal poet is
warming to record
# but not tonight, as I am
unbelievably,
upgraded!
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