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Ivan Brooks Sr Feb 2018
What's this phenomenon called love,
That remains a puzzle no one can solve?
Love is the caveat for many broken hearts,
And the byword for many gracious acts.
Love has the characteristics of a witch
And the coldness of a vindictive *****!

Love, the greatest of human emotions
Has many different variations.
The good book talks about agape love,
And Beyonce sings about drunken love.
Its nature nobody really understands
Yet men have worked with their hands and paid bride prices with cows.
Some have proposed to women at the super bowls.
And on talk shows, jumped on couches
leaving a few to walk on crutches.

Nobody knows love's true colors.
Yet many men have spent top dollars
To buy their women cars as gifts.
And later on, end up begging for lifts.
For love, Romeo committed suicide
And Juliet died right by his side.

Love is very irresistible
And unpredictable.
Love has many dimensions
and many complications.
For love, many people have died
And much more has lied.
For love, knots have been tied
many bank accounts emptied,
For love, wars have been fought
And many Diamond rings bought.

Love is a wrecking ball
I call it an emotional hall.
For love, tears have been shed
by many in their lonely beds.
Love is a mystery
But the reality in my poetry.
It's a kinda game in most men lives,
A game played behind their wives.

So what do we know about love?
Is it peaceful as caged doves
Or dangerous as wild wolves?
Is it contagious as a disease,
Or rumpled as a crease?
Is it blind like brother Steve,
Or silent as a grave?
Is it deep like the ocean,
and beautiful like Heaven?
Love can at times be as cold as ice
And at times, twice as nice!

Love has many definitions....what's yours?
mikumiku Dec 2018
I met her on a narrow street of old Verona
Her beauty’s magical, her name was Lady Mona
She rolled a cigarette between her diva fingers
A little cherry smoke around her gently lingers

She had a long deep fire-coloured autumn hair
That with the wind dance as if out of very care
Her eyes are brighter, gayer then azure sapphires
Two little diamonds that can start unholy fires

Her ******* are full of life, the sweetest goddess milk
It taste like childhood memories wrapped up in silk
The skin – an undiscovered lands of sinful wild
It sends you on a trip so rough yet very mild

She was so picturesque, a genuine sugarbomb
Like rays of sun that dazzle through a naked palm
I pray thee, Jupiter, align the heaven stars
And let me be the one who strikes of her guitars

Wish I could walk to her and ask her dearly out
I feel so brave yet nervous, want to scream and shout
I want to spill it out, express my inner passion
But that’s not me behaving in such crazy fashion

Hell to the no! I go! I’ll spit my fire lines!
I am a blonde! I curse those stupid *** designs
I’ll offer things to her, I promise I’ll pushy
****, I am gonna offer her my cola *****

If men be ***** models, I shall be one too
I have one in my mouth – a nasty point of view
If men can flirt and conquer, so can ******* I
This Aphrodite’s taken, she is only mine

I walk to her, approach her like the mighty Taurus
Rehearse my lyrics, shuffle through my love thesaurus
I smell perfume – ambrosia, nectar, lemonade…
Formation, hold up, queen of… ******* Lemonade..?

“What is the name of thee, do tell me, pretty dear
Just like the beauty goddess you to me appear
By any chance you are one of the youthful Graces?
Be careful, darling, I can see your leather laces”
Helen Jan 2019
we often forget that yesterday has been turned to dust,
long before tomorrow comes
pastel brush strokes gently conceal lies, wounds, and barbed wire scars
wouldn’t you rather be privy to the explicit state of affairs
rather than be presented with a silver platter, a shroud, filled with lacy lyric and milky emotions swimming in remorse
deception seeps from every one of your thousands of pores
how many times do you have to hit an egg until yoke begins to seep out?
Intuition was inspired by Beyoncé’s “Pray You Catch Me” from the Lemonade album
Ivan Brooks Sr Aug 2018
African woman
Mother of civilization.
Oh beautiful woman,
Thou are beyond description.

African woman
Queen of the people of Mamba.
Jambo to all those in heaven
Bless you too my dear mama.

African woman
Royal Nubian Queen.
The backbone of her man
You'll do anything to help him win.

Single Black woman
Made of broken pieces
You're the breadwinner,Superwoman.
You're the symbol of strength in all places.

African woman
Daughter of Eve's.
Thou are God's true specimen,
And the apple of his eyes.

Black woman
Daughter of Africa.
Blueprint of a **** woman,
Dark hue of coffee arabica.

African woman
Mother of humanity
Chieftess of ancient Nyngoman,
Mama Africa's bounty.

African woman
My Mandingo bride.
First woman of Africa's Eden
Center of God's black tribe.

Nigerian woman
My Yoruba Queen.
Envied by the women of Oman,
Cafe ou lair, cream of Africa's cream!

Warrior woman,
Queen of Wakanda.
Come and flip your wand,
Find the soul of Sarafina.

Curvy woman
In your womb lies Africa's future.
My Lormah woman
Oyobuays marvels at your structure.

Beautiful woman,
Perpetual envy of the silicon woman.
Pride of the Black man,
The essence of a real woman.

Indigo Woman
Lillies of the African plains.
Thou are Eve of the African Eden,
Best of the portraits that nature paints.

Voluptous woman,
Full, thick natural lips.
Real assert of the Black woman,
Nature gets aroused by your hips.

Ellen Sirleaf, today's woman,
Africa's first female president.
A Liberian woman,
Loved and revered wherever she went.

Smile ,Gambian woman,
You're daughter of Sarakunda.
Roots of the Black American woman,
Captives of the kanda Bolinga.

South African woman
Mariam Makeba
Sang for freedom and fought like a man
You were truly Soweto's finest Deva.

Dark ebony woman,
You are red, yellow and green.
Hanmatan wind stops at your command,
Born to slay and be seen.

African woman
Thou are the only reason
God put Adam in a coma.
Your perpetual beauty transcends time and Season.

African woman,
Under your cleavage, the Nile flows
And between your fingers, golden threads are woven,
You are the reason Beyonce glows.

Harriet Tubman, brave woman
Smuggled slaves underground.
She was a freed Black slave woman,
Who avowed to leave no soul behind.

Creative woman
Maya Angelou, gifted poetess.
Famous writer and a Black woman
Will be remembered for her poetic prowess.

Native African woman,
Africa's limestone and cement.
A mother, a wife, virtuous woman,
Lioness and the spine of the continent.

Liberian woman
Roots of my poetry, you gave me life
You are every woman.
Your edges are sharper than the Sumarais knife.

For mama and all the black Queens.
Steve Page Nov 2018
Dear Steve

I hope you are having a fantastic Advent.
Thank you for your letter.  I must say I have really taken a lot of pleasure reading your letters over the years and seeing the things you asked for. I got a real laugh from the one you sent last year about Kylie Minogue. Mrs Christmas said that you are obviously very mature for your years and that it wasn't appropriate for a 12 year old.

I've noticed that your lists have got shorter recently. That's okay as Mrs Christmas says its a sign of maturity. I'm not sure what that says about me, as my list is always long.

Anyhow, as one of my more loyal writers I'm writing a reply this year.  (Don't worry, you'll still get gifts from me as always. This is extra.)

Steve, I'm writing to say that I'm not able to give you what you've asked for. I know that this will be disappointing for you, but you'll agree that is not unprecedented - I refer you back to your earlier Kylie request and the petition you made for no more brussel sprouts. (I know you won't believe me, but trust me on this, they really aren't that bad and it's only once a year.)

But I'm referring here to this year's request about your granddad.

First can I say that your granddad and I have known each other for a very long time. His lists tend to be very short indeed and I've had the pleasure of replying on more than one occasion. I count him as a friend.  So it's no easy thing for me to write these words.

It is not within my gifts to hold back the wear of his many years and to prevent him from coming to the end of this life.

He has filled his life with significance and carefully considered kindness. I'm sure you'll agree that his has been a full life. You've only heard a fraction of his tales and those you have heard would be enough for any man to die happy. The painful truth is that he's now coming to the close of his earthly life with his family and friends.

One of the reasons I'm writing is to ask you to do something for him, something that will mean the world to him and will be of great value to you too.

Ask your dad to buy a simple voice recorder. One of those digital ones with a long memory. Tell him what it's for and he won't refuse you. Take it to your granddad and use it to record his stories; pepper him with questions, let him recount his tales.
You might even leave the recorder with him so he can continue after you've gone to bed - he doesn't sleep very much these days anyway.
You will create for yourself a treasure trove of his memories and give him the pleasure of saving the highlights (and perhaps the low points) of his long life.

Thank you. Stories are important, especially true stories.

Now before I sign off, Mrs Christmas asked me to tell you that with regard to this year's request concerning Beyonce, it's not going to happen. You'll just have to content yourself with your downloads.

Happy Christmas,
God Bless you,

Father Christmas.
Record conversations with your mum, your dad, your grandparents. You won't regret it.
OnwardFlame Nov 2018
It's here in the revealing of a window
Snow has come early again this year
A man says to me on Instagram.

I did what I was supposed to do
Knowing your sudden silence was because you
Were with her last night
I spent a morning dealing with hardships
I often walk away from my phone
I don't even know why it is that you keep me.

I left before class today
My feet soaked through from the snow
I think about Beyonce
I cried to myself because its at this time
At this age
Where it seems like someone could or should
So fully just choose me.

The truth is I don't actually really want to leave you
I don't really see a point in that right now
But I do plan to move away
Far away from this place
I can see the hands of time ticking by
Or I think about how I always seem to choose
To never be here.

I've done a lot in Chicago
My time is not yet up

But I'm gonna go.
Chris Reed Aug 2018
Everybody knows today's figures.
Lincoln Park. Kanye West. Beyonce.
Musicians. Artists. They are all praised in today’s society.
But nobody knows the names of people who actually matter.

Willis Carrier. Invented the air conditioner.
Nobody knows his name.

Robert E. Kahn. Made the internet.
Nobody knows his name.

The problem with today’s society
Is that the minds of young people are being poisoned.
By the schools who leave things out of textbooks.
By the people on the street, screaming their views.
The riots, the protests, the hell of today.
Poisoning the minds of young people.

Reed Hastings. Marc Randolph. Nobody knows them
Yet millions of people use Netflix.

SalvinoD'Armate. Nobody knows his name.
Yet over 4 BILLION people wear eyeglasses.

Young people today hate history.
They think, “Why do we need to learn about dead people?”
George Santayana once said:
“Those who cannot remember the past, are condemned to repeat it.”
We learn these things, not to be bored in history class.
Not to just **** time in the day.
But to inspire. To help young people to become creative, more innovative.

Imagine a world, where Alexander Bell never made the telephone.
Imagine a world, where the internet, just wasn’t a thing.
Imagine a world, where nobody invented new things.

William Higginbotham. I Guarantee that nobody in this room knows his name.
He created the very first video game, Tennis for Two, in 1958.
Without him, we would not have the games we have today.
Assassin’s Creed. Grand Theft Auto. Call of Duty.
People play these games, and use the other things I’ve listed every single day,
And they use them without any thought, or appreciation for where they came from.
Or how far we have progressed as humans.

So I ask you this. Who invented the desk you are sitting on?
Who invented the jacket you’re wearing?
Who invented that pen in your pocket?
You don’t know, do you?
Tanisha Jackland Nov 2018
Look. it's like this. My videos are a simply a vehicle for my poetry and music. I am not a videographer or some kind of genius artist. It's just me. surprise surprise. making my somewhat descent sounding tracks of poetry and music to less than mediocre images and free stock footage I found on the webs.

And yes. Beyonce has finally caught up with me. I know. And no. I am not hooked up with corporations getting paid by the millions. In fact, I am anti-corporate fighting for the average person.

So help a sista out and listen and share and comment. All it takes is a simple hit of the tracks. a listen. and some feedback.

And all of you beautiful souls that have been with me for ages. I see you. And I thank you from the bottom of my humble little heart. <3 <3
Miss Saitwal Oct 2018
Spill the sass in your throat,
Sit in that infectious boat,
and swallow the fire like a Mod 90's Caeser.

Pull that rope of impossibilities,
and swing to the door of happiness,
like the enchanting fireworks in Brisbane.

Climb the ladder of odds,
and kiss the pole of awkwardness,
like Beyonce dropping jaws with her moves.

Misread, mistaken, misled by faith,
and drinking a glass full of honesty,
like you own your mistakes & fantasies.

Funny fulfilled fantasies,
and anonymous swallowed fears,
like a diamond over an opaque rock.
It was January
4 a.m. on the dot.

I froze awake
Haunted by a ghost
Of the past

All I could
Remember was



It's 4 a.m. *****
I don't care if
You're Helena

Risen from
My Chemical
Romance's Grave

Or worse yet
Helena Bonham

Hell I don't care
If it's the Carter

The Quuuueeen
Or J
Me up
For any or
All of this cause



I double
Paw Patrol

— The End —