LeV3e 1d

"How are you today"
"Good, and you?"
"Good, a bit chilly out"
"Ya, at least the sky's blue"
"Well, how can I help?"
"Oh, I'm just looking around."
"If they don't fit, we carry belts."
"I think I'll just take the gown."
"That'll be twenty two, thirty five"
"Can I just swipe my card?"
"Sure, your ID looks nice."
"Thanks don't get too bored."

Rehearsed conversations
Fitted like a mold
Commodity interactions
Just doing what you've been told.

Awaken me
         Shake me
                         From this febrile trance
                         Furtively pilfering my
                         Heart's old treasure
                         Once guarded by
                         Comforting spirits
                         Of warm hopes and
                         Beliefs held beyond

Never questioned by the minds tribunal--
                         The jurors seated
                         In the cranial court.
                         Knowing eyes silenced
                         By misguided faith's rhetoric.

Never minding the persuasive muzzle.
                        Always ignoring
                        The protractible tongue.
                        Always turning from
                        The dark corridors--
                        Light banished
                        By modern-day Pharisees

Cloaked in mantles of treason.
                       Patronisingly betraying
                       What can only remain pure.
                       Painted with pious platitudes.

                      I go from this folly--
                      An orphan
                      Of mystical doubt.
                      The frost and
                      Cold tempest I feel.

Cautious sensibilities a tenuous guide
                      Through these gray
                      Realms I traverse.
                      Trembling hands
                      Grasp transient hopes
                      Striving to shape
                      Deeper meaning.

Disciplining lazy traditional beliefs
                      That hang on like
                      Phosphorescent spiders
                      In the dusty
                      Lofty rafters of memory.

Absence of religious pop-culture faith eclipses peace.
                      I shudder at the
                      Prospect of this purge.
                      Preparing for burial
                      What must die--
                      The end of an age
                      Burned in effigy.

Deceptive iconic silhouettes
Superimposed on a
                     Human-made landscape--
                     A beautiful picture
                     Gold frame and all.

A raging wilderness I now pass through.
                    I stumble by many
                    A familiar fane.
                    Longing to be clothed
                    With a mantle of peace.
                    A vulnerable yet
                    Strong spirit I guard--
                    Let not trivialised faith be
                    My misleading guide.

And if it is all meaningless--
                                     Alas! it may be--
                                     Still I must forge
                                     Ahead to the sea.
                                     Ever mindful that
                                     Rivers eventually return
                                     To where they have been
                                     Separated at birth.

I often hear faintly the water lapping--
But a body of water is not always the sea.

--Daniel Irwin Tucker


               -think I've been AROUND here be-fore!"

"Now, thinking 'bout it, look around, 'even-with-crowd' it's...
              ye-e-a-h-a,       -I've been around here before."


"Came out tonight for some fun, and now I'm drinkin' til I'm done,
              yeah,       -I've been around here before."


"You sat down, bought a drink, looked around, hear see me sing-ing...
              -feels just like you've been around here be-fore?"


"On that point, ain't no more, slam one down and there's the door,
              yeah,       -I know you've been around here before."



"Think I've been around here before,
                -but I ain't comin' here no more!"


"Sweet-thing' come on now here's the door..."

Tribute to the Blues King.

The acquisition of the prayer blunt
Is the pathway to some solution
A puffed takes you up the mount
Another brings out the benediction.
After a while, you begin to wonder
If things fell below your expectation
Not until you laughed at some blunder,
And start to fall short of the rotation.
Then it'll dawn on you that the blunt
Was truly the source of your happiness,
And that all your worries were now fun
Unbeknownst to you, your royal highness
Is now officially looking down from space.
Where you've been for a little while now
Occupying a throne in that special place.
Where your mood put out a cool green show
Where your revamped taste buds discovered
How good everything suddenly tastes.
A place where your hidden senses gets uncovered
And stump out the clip of your shit beneath the shades.


It's on when everything gets better.

thinking of things to put to verse
   in times that often are adverse
   to topics that involve the universe
   and other serious matter
is difficult

world politics is quite atrocious
the culture scene not less ferocious
and so if you are somewhat cautious
in your choice of themes
few are left

you might start out with poised pen
for something serious & pertinent - but then
you have a quite inspiring moment when
you realize what truly is important
in our lives

just find the words
others can understand

Julio Lopez Jan 31

Breaking back for you
Oh money...
Brother getting locked up  (yeah)
For money...
People getting shot up (Yeah)
For money...
Megacorps run America.. (Yeah)
We all struggling, trying to make ends meet
These days it rarely sunny
Ain't sick but my nose is runny
These tuition rates is stunning
Better days, hopefully coming
A dollar rules our lives its funny
Until its not and its scary, very
So tell me, whats the difference between you and me
There ain't nothing really its silly
How the color of our skin really matter
Lets change that and make the future better
That's my goal lets all contribute
In college I'm on my grind
good girls, so hard to find
people come and go
but the real ones staying close
Speaking my mind
Don't care if you mind
Your mind is weak
I'm Einstein on the beat
Who so happens to be from the street
Alert every second even while asleep
Realized this ain't the life for me
I'm gone
Breaking back for you
Oh money...
Brother getting locked up  (yeah)
For money...
People getting shot up (Yeah)
For money...
Megacorps run America.. (Yeah)

the tethered goat
bleats cheerful as

the butcher's knife
scraps against the

beheading stone.

What if birds were bees?
And singing came from the trees,
A's turned to B's, B's to C's,
C's to D's, D's to making poetry with ease.
As long as these bees-
make sure to do as they-
and seize,
control of our control...

That would be the bees knees.

Bee are getting more popular these days

Growing up hearing sirens felt like the end of the world because being black is hard to escape sometimes we can’t even reach the age of 18 and sometimes we were raised by a single mother while our father is either locked up, a runaway, or just dead.

Growing up it was hard seeing our mother working hard to make sure we had clothes, shoes, food, and a place to lay our head and sometimes it was hard to even fake a smile without getting that feeling of being judged by someone else.

Growing up watching the news had us wondering “am I next?” because our culture had it bad sometimes it was hard to even walk out of our front door and sometimes it was just like a movie but the only difference is this is real and we have to fight for what we wanted.

Growing up it was all about who had this and who had that or who was from here or who was from there sometimes we only do what we see right in front of us and sometimes we all seem to make the same mistakes as the ones before us...

But.. growing up had us all waiting for a change and still wondering when it’s going to come!

A poem I made for a friend for this coming black history month!
Leigh Marie Jan 25

I've been trying to write away humiliation &
carve embarrassment out of my chest
but its hard to put emotion to paper when the boy that hurt you
won’t even tell you his last name

you lost the right to anonymity when you took me to bed &
used my first name like a curse word
like you yourself named me
you told me I’m still a hot little thing
as if I was worried bout what you thought in the first place

you told me it was best that I leave
told me maybe after we get to know each other we can try again
as if I was begging you for mercy
begging you to let me stay

not knowing you wasn’t the problem
knowing your touch,
your kiss
was the problem
you told me your story but
when I said that I do not even know your last name
you said its best that way
why are you hiding,

you asked what we are doing here
as if it weren’t already clear
you were really asking me bout what I am not doing

I missed the signs
of you walking in front of me and waving me over
waving me out
of you kissing me like theres a timer around my neck
like there wasn't someone on the other side trying to kiss you back

I do not wish to see you again
If I see you I will tell you my last name

Next page