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Dark caverns of cranium so vast they get lost in the immense black abyss

There are zero ways to depict the frustration that writer's block is

The sentence fragments stab wounds into soul until blood is gushing out

The only method I know how to start mending is to verse something sane

A poem that can untangle the knot of multiple conflicting emotions winding it's way through my skeleton
That satisfying relief when you finally break through the barricade
Hark and Come Hear Ye Here
Ye loyal subjects of the king
Reports from the borders of our principality
warn of a gruesome pestilence spreading unseen,
This devilish scourge of affliction is Coming!
Beware of the telltale signs of corruption
In the countenance of those under siege of this heretofore unknown malady.
It has been documented
by trusted physicians that certain aspects of one’s physiology
Will present themselves shortly
before the fever of madness and fear
Takes control.
Take Heed of thy neighbors
Behaviors and be wary of
Changes occurring in regards to
Their normal routine.
If boils or bleeding of orifices be
Witnessed report the citizen to the nearest authority
Once the outward expression of the putrification is upon them, it is but a fortnight until they succumb to the terrible fate of mortality. Those most beset by the pox of this plague are without exception in a state of aggravated nervous disorientation. Keep safe, keep your distance, and warn others around you of such individuals afflicted, lest ye contract the pox, for there is as yet no alchemical remedy

Be wary of these ghouls wandering the streets
Muttering manically, wreaking of decay, flailing and gnashing their teeth in a rage.
If one of the accursed creatures approaches, It is a mortal encroachment ye must evade.
Make right with the lord and keep the faith, our souls stand for judgment, ensure yours will be saved.

Take heed of these warnings here given this day.

They are not to be ignored if you wish to survive
12-27-23

For decades I’ve had this internal fantasy that I’m a bearer of the plague, not patient zero but on of the early infected, a vector of an unknown catastrophe. I got really sick. This was a fun thing. (Not being sick, writing a silly poem)
ZACK GRAM Feb 24
Im building a plant
200 billion worth
Im building
A gun
An gun restore
Manufactory
Not like the ones now
Im talking no serial
Im buying all
New temu
Automatics
Nationwide
This includes
Camps
Barracks
Wharehouse
Underground bunkers
Underground facilities
If we spent 500 billion
Thats ok too
Im going to arm my civilians
****** gave everyone a gun
Me too 2024
Mash em down
As fast they respawn
They two isles on my nugget
The new amazon
Ammunition
Hurry buy 100
Not rounds
100 pounds
50 cal sounds 2 miles rooftop
On the pile
Look out
Look over
Top my city
Whats about to go down
More guns
More ammo
Americafied
Greatest Nation Alive
Clips Checks Balances
How can i walk with Jesus,
When its so much, chaos round us,
Trust,
I don't let my head get crushed,
By the media,
See what they feedin' ya, playin' slaves to two masters,
You can only love one,
And hate the other after,
Pick which side ya wanna choose, win or loose, be war ready or bruise,
Easily they be killin' me,
With the PC, messin' up society,
Putting lies to the future see,
Kids cant be no kids, give em task way pass adults bidz
We got drags to ****, to different scents of **** stash,
And they wonder why i mash, everything is about cash,
And little girls shakin' they ***,
And young boy boys, blast,
Lil yummies too **** hungry,
Fake rappers living good, far from the hood,
Claim they love it, but out comes no good,









its misunderstood,
Our values backwards,
I look awkward, to cowards, flip the script, put the guns down,
No need for burners or extra clips,
It only equals another rip,
Rest in peace, another death release, no links of ******, from the police,
lets break the lease,
Hard to stay sane, and survive,
In the belly of the beast,
Many demons'll feast,
When will we be released?,
From this rain, of hell,
Im growin' carousel, lord dont let my thoughts fail,
As i take a, another sip of the Ale,
Let wisdom revail,
My nature is a true re-bel,
Don't care if my record dont sell,
The revolution wont fail,
Im feelin' Freddy, seems like he rose from the dead,
Double stunted Jesus, with the stale bread, fake apostle spread,
Misquoted the bibles, that we red,
Learn the truth, get threats from the fed,
Now listen to the chorus, peep what the verses says, uh
VG E Bacungan Jan 12
The creases and curves
that guard the gate of heaven.
Revered be the bless'd grounds!
Written 22 November 2020
Inspired by the painting "Black Iris" (1926) by O' Keefe
When your skin is darker than your past, you'll find
yourself instinctively seeking shade, avoiding the scorching
rays of the sun that seem to tarnish its complexion.
Its once radiant appearance now tinged with the remnants
of the flames, forever leaving a mark.
You may feel that all your imperfections persist, yearning
to be acknowledged and embraced, yet often remaining
unnoticed by the oblivious eyes of the world.
You, my dear, have become a surreal spectacle, captivating
the gaze of many with your unique blend of beauty and vulnerability.

In this collective exchange of glances, you discover
a remarkable unity, a deep connection that transcends
mere superficiality. It is as if each shared look weaves
together the threads of our lives, binding us in a profound
state of matrimony, where understanding and acceptance intertwine.

As we stand together, lost in the enigmatic origins of life,
it becomes apparent that your skin holds a story, an
uninterrupted lineage that stretches back through time.
It is a tapestry of ancestral struggles and triumphs, a testament
to resilience and fortitude. And like the night that envelops
the world, your dusky guardian complexion bears witness
to the strength and beauty that lies within.

But let us not be judged solely by what meets the eye.
Peel back this outer layer, delve deeper into who we truly are,
and you will discover hearts that beat with the same
tenderness, dreams that flourish within the obscure depths of
our souls. Don't let the label of "African child,"
confine us to a predetermined destiny; instead, let it be
a celebration of our heritage, a recognition of the richness
and diversity that flows through our veins.

So, my dear, as we navigate our way through this complex
and ever-changing world, let your skin be a canvas,
not only for the painted white of eyes that might cast
judgments, but for the genuine smiles that radiate from within.
Embrace your darkness, your unique hue, and let it stand
as a testament to the vibrant spirit that resides in the
depths of your being.
Man Dec 2023
People talk, more than I.
I am ashamed of my past,
And confused about my life.
Where the history, of many lineages
Is well-described:
I am unaccustomed with mine.
What I know, of right & of wrong,
Is it predicated on the rule of the weak
By that of the strong?
The gaze thus glares from my eyes,
Does it live in black & in white?
Does bruised fruit still grow ripe?
I love the stars
They remind me that
There’s enough space
for everyone to shine

I love the moon
It teaches me
patience and beauty

I love the sunset
Its fading colors
teach me that
every ending promises a new beginning

I love shadows
The way they play on walls
reminds me that even in darkness,
there’s artistry and mystery
to be found

I love chirping crickets,
bonfires, fireflies, darkness…

…I LOVE THE NIGHT!
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