"aaliyah" poems
It’s round 2, time for teamwork
Cowgirl position, hit that reverse
Up and down make that thang twerk
Got wet juices all over my T-shirt
Taste so good like it’s a dessert
Tap out twice quicker then sooner
Love you babe you a trooper
I’m the present & your future
Hi, I’m Zay, good to meet ya
When we’re done, I’ll have you dreaming
Have you singing like Aaliyah
Came inside you, you a keeper
I’m a giver, not a receiver
No pressure here, I’m here to please ya
Go half on a baby, yes I need ya
Round 3 is about to have you eager
Sep 20, 2020
Sep 20, 2020 at 6:51 AM UTC
Yeah it's Jay, Mr. Self Saboteur,
Fill the bottle up thats what I got the bottle for,
Self fufillin' prophecies got me on the floor,
Drinkin' is the reason but it got me wantin' more,
Not a variety of sobriety when I'm shoppin' in the store,
Got me thinking what's the reason I'm coppin' all this for?
Jesus blood stains up on the sheets,
No Zzz's when I sleep,
All my cups filled up with alcoholic drinks,
So I'm up in that Anonymous,
Cup in hand, hungry hippopotamus,
Sayin' to the man, "I think we need a little Ciroc in us"
I've got a problem, why you think I'm stoppin' cuz?
My names Jay and the liquor's messin' me up,
Every night fellin' closer to Aaliyah,
Saw my reflection now I'm lookin' at the reaper,
Experiment with liquor so fill up my beaker!
Hand on the Bud Light,
Fuckin' with my love life,
Sippin' on the suds like,
Toast to the tough life!
This phenix burns,
Born in thorns with alcoholic horns,
Lookin' at the bottom of the bottle,
Askin' my self if my heart's this hollow,
What do I do? Toss it or swallow,
Well that is a problem for the Jay of tomorrow,
Tryin' to deal with the ills of my convictions,
Sippin' on the liquid of my sickenin' addiction,
Yeah ma, loosen up my inhibitions,
Binge drinkin' means no intermissions,
So welcome my beloved inebriation,
Cup to my mouth instead of conflict confrontation,
Sippin' on the liquid that is toxic to the nation,
Women gettin' twisted my ironic liberation,
If I drink too much I'ma keep it up,
Pinky finger up,
Worried my liver's not weak enough,
Speech slurred so I won't speak to much,
But my mouth's wide open talkin' greek and stuff,
Opps I made a mistake,
Trade Jack Daniels for tonights date,
Gotta live with the consequences that I hate,
Choosin' liquid over women that I try to sedate.
Seems like I'll never get them back,
Well I'll just have to find love within the cup that's in my lap,
So this is a toast to all the alcoholics,
Put up an empty cup, just a little symbolic,
Sacrifice love for a chick that's nymphonic,
And realize it was fine before the Hypnotic,
****
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 7:53 AM UTC
I'm beginning to wonder if the sensation in my fingers will ever return.
maybe its like writers block.
perhaps only temporary...
but some people can have writers block for years, maybe even a lifetime.
Bilateral broken wrists.
What the **** does that mean?
Day 1:
I woke up in the hospital, my only concern was my precious forty dollar jeans.
"Aaliyah your back is broken."
Day 3:
Post surgery, heavily anesthetized
"Mom I want to be on American Idol."
*starts to sing in the recovery room"
Day 12:
I woke up and couldn't feel my right arm
Oh right they numbed my radial nerve!
It only lasts a few hours the said
Day 13:
My arm was still numb.
Lets, not fail to mention that I also have my t12 removed and replace somewhere in the middle of all this.
I have several fractures in my lumbar.
Day 14:
I finally went home.
Four weeks later.
I cant feel my fingers.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 7:41 PM UTC
-Because I lost count of how many times I’ve seen “Romeo Must Die”
if only to bring you back to life for the film’s entire running time-
You were a shooting star baby girl, yet to arrive at destination
in a world were too many broken dolls die by their own hand
one whose last name coincides with the city of a space station
the universe added a constellation for every year of your life.
Every string of hair breathed air, with both feet firmly on earth
leaving air itself without air to breathe; while we were heirs
to the despair of knowing you were no longer there, relieved
while wistfully wishing whispering the talent we received.
Like a beautiful gift wrapped in your chocolate-coated skin
like an ingenious plant growing from the asphalt we could see
like a butterfly’s open wings shaped in the color of your lips
like all of the music, slowly dying no longer playing on MTV.
Since you passed your name’s the most popular among girls
quite fitting for the lofty, sublime, exalted nature of you voice
breathy vocals while holding a python and rocking the curls
the only “resolution” needed was on my TV to feel you close.
So these verses are dedicated to the soil blessed by your steps
to your lashes, one in a million laughter, the stem of your neck
the plethora of kisses never given, your soul engulfed by love
from here to eternity, no sense in mourning a gift from God.
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 1:59 PM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Way to doubt,
I fall short and astray,
Positive motivating force,
Just Like Aaliyah say,
Then if you are,
Just let me know,
So I won't have to fall astray,
You wouldn't see my point of view anyway,
Times when I find people like you,
Times when I find people like you.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC
Yo pull down ya skirt
so i can put in the work
the perks
of ya kitten fillin' the atmosphere
i'm **** near
star struck like i been stuck
by cupids arrow i see in the barrio
lookin' ****
can ya picture me next to thee
baby girl stop playin' let me
in so i can show how to hit it
**** up ya juice neva spit it
bruise ya
do thangs ya man never done i got ya sprung and when i get u into the bedroom watch how the bed springs sing
beautiful melodies like Aaliyah
i go back n forth you push i push
so we on the same tune
as ya body sweatin' more than like we in the month of June
so when i hit it ya know
im leavin' a stain on ya membrane
can't maintain
the more ya bounce
the more come with the ounce
as i boogie to the Brooklyn
beat with my Jesus Piece
as ya on ya face *** up see the moonlight glarin' im starin'
into the world of darkness mark this i promise ya wont forget get this
Uh
Hall of fame
legacy In with Detriot Pimps Game tight Like Gladys Knight Without the pips no SIMPs
Over here I hang with the baddest *****
Was down from.rags to riches
Now girlies on my stello
Cuz they know
when I go The ******* get wet For sho
Rocking crowds
Don't need a mic to get loud
Baby open that sess
And let's puff a cloud
And let's get rowdy
When we make sweat Its like romeo and Juliet When we met
Ya don't see the sweat
I see Dripping From ya hair
While.ya tease strippin'
Moving ya hips got me hypnotize
From.ya eyes and between ya thighs Surprise
Babygirl give me some that kat
And I'll.eat like a rat No slack
My game is strong Long grown
She was a hot stitch from.Queens
Freaky as hell If ya know what I mean???
She was a hot stitch from.Queens
Freaky as hell If ya know what I mean???
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 9:50 AM UTC
I miss you. I miss you **so. **** much.**
I miss you with every step and breath I take.
But no.
I miss you more than that. So much more.
I miss your fingers entwined with mine, your thumb doodling patterns across my knuckles.
I miss your voice, the inflection and emphasis of your carefully chosen words, hearing you laugh when I laugh.
I miss your breath tickling my neck at 2 AM, and waking you at 3. Kisses, love, and challenges to follow.
I miss once-in-a-while 4 AM kitchen dances. Aaliyah serenading our modest rendezvous.
We believed it was the perfect time for a dance. Not quite morning, not quite night. But for us, it was just right. The essential in-between moment of blurred clarity.
I miss our blurred clarity.
Our oxymoron.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC
monsters have shoved their claws into my ambitions
you have turned my body into butter
unsalted, not the good kind
my arm reminds me of a tree carved my young men,
hungry to be remembered and to leave an ugly mark
dripping like sap
i feel like Jenny
“dear god, make me a bird, so i can fly far, far away from here”
because i am ******* sick and tired to being forced to look forward to telling my excruciating narrative,
like pulling my nails from my nail beds
and remember, it is my ******* story,
not yours,
it will never be yours
i am not your final girl
i am not even your girl
and i hate to break it to you,
but i never will be
i am the daughter of Khaleesi, and Aaliyah, and Beyoncé,
women who have walked through fire and have come out the other side, unscathed,
women who continue to take no **** form anybody
the world is a *****
but over realized,
so am i,
yet more than anything,
i have been the cattiest ***** to myself for years ,
and i’ve finally decided,
i am ******* fed up with taking my own abuse
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 1:45 AM UTC
I met a girl
a girl with a broken world
i saw her in a different light
and i saw that there was nobody in her life
she is beaten and bruised with words
and nobody shows her how much she is worth
but im tired of standing and watching in the background
because thats not the man i am i stand my ground
i will show this wonderful girl what love is
and how she can fight this world and rise above it
if only she would take this beasts hand
and he'll show her a new land and a new dance
fair warning people call me a monster
but im a man like no other
and im a soldier in this war of life
for my loved ones ill always fight
that means you Liyah
ill be the light for ya
for a little lady named Aaliyah Gisele
ill walk through any hell
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 6:17 PM UTC
Why’d Babygirl have to die
I can’t believe it was her time
Her love was far too strong
She was needed back home
News was too hard to believe
I really did not want to see it
Had so much left to do in life
And it hurt like a sharp knife
Don’t find angels here on earth
But back then I was already sure
One of the best here was Babygirl
And I will hold to that for forever
Wondering what could have been
If this angel would have just lived
But now we will never, ever know
Because off she has already flown
Rest In Peace doesn’t sound like enough
Hope you know how great you were loved
And how it will continue you with you above
Until we meet again, Babygirl, the way it was
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 12:03 AM UTC
Tick tock time travelling,
Talking the walk-
Time thoughts unravelling,
And walking the talk.
Think of time man-
Churning time into ours
and hours watch and learn-
The magic of seconds and hours.
Streets chasing me,
and flee I would flee-
whilst money could not buy me,
Since time is money- but I would not grow on a money tree.
But I would be on all hands-
Black, white till pink,
Both hour & second hands.
I would write graffiti like street ink-
And with time I would sky write,
Since I would have all the time,
and would be the time- pardon this playwright.
I let actions speak like a mime.
And to me the world would pay attention-
Since money would not buy my presence.
I would fly too like inflation.
Queens would bribe me with presents-
Pregnant with prospects to beat time- stay young,
Live long and reign.
In every song like a chorus I would be sung-
How untouchable is the time man.
I would never be late for a date.
I would **** death-
Let life live long but it is too late,
These are broken dreams- pangs of birth...
I am not the time man-
I need the time Amen...
OutspokenArt# 2014
For Aaliyah
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 2:28 AM UTC
I listened to role models by J. Cole for the hundredth time and I finally heard it. It was a message to our women, No Role Models To Speak Of. He spoke of women who knew he had a girl but encouraged him to act like a dog they cry about. He spoke of "I don't want no ***** from reality shows", he spoke of meaningless *** women has allowed of him and "Kick em to the door, that just how it goes". He made a song and that's all most women of today will hear from No Role Models by J. Cole, another tune. It's not another tune, it's a message. I know because I was one of those women who never heard the message in 2014, today I here it loud in clear some years later. He looks back at his past and No Role Models To Speak Of. It all starts with women and I'm sure he wish women demanded more of what they deserve. Men like complexity, a challenge and as men they deserve that too. He claimed the women didn't even show him worthy of wearing his shirt home. "Lame ****** Cant Tell A Difference, One Time For A ***** Who Knows". He wants an Ant Viv love, he said he was too young for Lisa Bonet, Nia Long... all he's left with is ******* from reality shows who can't even read a script. Can't get mad at him that his only regret is not being able to take Aaliyah home.
Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 3:15 AM UTC
Over the years music has played an important role in my life.
When I was upset, I played music to cheer myself up.
When I was happy, music sat by my side and cheered with me.
When I was depressed, music wrapped its cozy arms around me and acted as a close friend.
My shoulder to lean on.
My words when I couldn’t think of anything to say.
The reason why I was strong when everything tried its hardest to make me weak.
The one thing that I will always welcome to soothe me.
The music that graces my ears is as diverse as the colors of a rainbow.
Each one has its own significant meaning
and is a beautiful site to see and feel.
The words of my favorite songs float
from my speakers,
to my ears,
and then to my soul.
I like the songs I like
and I love the songs that I love.
There are many genres of music.
And me being the unique individual that
I am,
I can’t stick to one genre.
if my ears and soul dig a song,
Why can’t I do the same?
The 511 songs on my phone are shuffled.
When I press play, rock music could start the show.
Queen, Fleetwood Mac, Aerosmith, The Eagles, or the Police, or Jimi Hendrix.
If I fast forward to the next song, rap might take the stage.
Tupac, Ice Cube, 3 6 Mafia, Bone Thugs N Harmony, Ludacris, TI, Lil Wayne, Drake, J.Cole.
Pop songs could pop out next.
Michael Jackson, The Weeknd, Sam Smith, Ariana Grande, Lizzo, Doja Cat, Lady Gaga.
R&B would want to follow.
New Edition, Adina Howard, Brandy, Erykah Badu, Aaliyah, TLC, Fantasia, Beyonce, Keyshia Cole, Amerie, Ashanti, Usher.
BTS, Blackpink, or Jay Park might conclude or continue the show.
As they always do.
Each song I jam to is distinctive.
I feel as though no one song is the same as the next.
My phone is the time capsule that contains the treasures to my ears.
I may start in the 1970s and travel to the 2000s.
Or I may start in the 2010s and go back to the 1990s.
Whichever song decides to play first, I will always listen to it like it’s my first time.
Mia J
3-14-2021
© 2021 Mia J
May 4, 2025
May 4, 2025 at 10:07 AM UTC
It's not that I'm making excuses
For the days that I messed up
Not that I want to be cut some slack
For the horrible things that I've done
Though I must tell you
There's a lot than you know
The moments behind the scenes
That birthed the themes you see
That makes you upset
Go wild and make
You feel that I don't deserve a thing
The stories behind
The mood swings
The character flaws
And sudden outbursts of anger
It's hard for me to explain
But I was behind bars
Before I went there.
That dark cold floor
That locked door
shushes and hushes
Of don't tell mummy and Daddy
Do you know my cry?
Do you know the sentences
I had to carry in those,
hidden moments
Once sentient
Became forever dead
Ice cold and broke
If placed in a mold
He wouldn't fit
Uncle Salisu
Aunty Aaliyah
Broda Jide
Sister Uche
Did I tell you that Monday
As I walked down the path to school
The cold shivers that ran down my spine
It was not in the bush
It was not under the dark stairwell
In plane sight
All eyes were watching
But still nobody could see
The hidden moments
Where peach became squash
Beaten out of shape
Confined to the shades
The forever dark places
With no aim
There was no one to blame
Nobody knew so ?
Mar 24, 2020
Mar 24, 2020 at 12:43 PM UTC