"blac" poems
Lord I just ask you to guide me, in this pouring rain.
Praying for a change
All I feel is pain..
My life on this earth feels so alone
Everyone I love has met you
Don't have anyone else to hold.
I still don't know why you chose my life to suffer this way.
Broken hearted, ashed out blac & milds, emptied bottles,
Lost in a cycle..
Im praying to be strong, like my mom said
So I'm still fighting.
Living blinded, sometimes I do feel like screaming for help
But no one reached out a hand
When they knew that I fell.
Blessed that I now have an umbrella
To protect me from the rain
Im still holding on
Cause the season has never changed.
No one really heard of this pain
Cause we all sinners
We too focused on the hopes of fame.
But that's just the flick that starts the flame
How could we hold our head up in the pouring rain
One day I shall release my spirit
Into the sun
Then reunite with all of my loved ones.
©MH
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 5:35 PM UTC
altho
ugh i push y
ou away, yo
u have alw
ays see
med to kno
w that
the truth of the m
atter is, i will alwa
ys need you more
and yet
poets are flagra
nt wastes of space
hem
ming the edge
s of this society
confining it
with hed
onistic needs and wants
and all t
he ridiculous feeli
ngs assoc
iated with the fu
cked system of
emot
ional intelligence
emascu
lating the blac
k and wh
ite i des
ire of
Alas, Alas
I seem to have drowned myself into Kool-Aid.
"Poets are shameless with their experiences; they exploit them" said Nietzsche once.
I wonder how you are today.
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 2:45 AM UTC
"Word is bond." I never did understand what those vocabulary-slinging, Rhyme-linking, Rhythm-carrying, Boast-blasting And world-observing wordsmiths spoke of when they said: "Word is bond." I did not know those words, just like all the times I did not know what The Octagon, The Staple-Lands, Or even such a word as "Paris" meant in their fascinating lingo. I tried again and again to decode them, To recognize them, To comprehend them, In hopes of seeing deep wisdom within them. "Word is bond"? What can words tie together, Being nothing but blac
Nov 19, 2010
Nov 19, 2010 at 5:44 AM UTC
They're on administrative leave like they asked us permission to leave our bodies... Lifeless
Or
They should have gotten permission to be dismissed BEFORE they left our bodies... Lifeless
Land of the free....How about Land on our Knees
Where we should be until we all can stand as tall as a tree.... Not hanging, from a tree
The noose has been replaced by a shiny black casing, The broken neck has been replaced by blood freely flowing The tree has been used to make OUR encasing.... The result... [hashtag]this [hashtag]that [hashtag]blacklivesmatter
but... [hashtag]itdoesntmatter because apparently we are not all made of equal matter
Sterling Silver used to be considered quality , but apparently...that's dead.
B stands for bold. Beautiful. Brave. Boisterious, without the B in black there consists just a Lack of color, creativity, attitude...
Lying to us daily, telling us our skin color isn't a crime only that it cuts short our time to be
Alive. Breathing, Heart beating, Lub Dub Lub Dub Lu....ve you are the two words that you may never hear. Are the two words that they don't get to hear because
Crack. Pop pop pop Hands up Don't ..... Blood flowing on the streets, like road **** except I'd hoped by now evolution would have taken us to the top of the animal kingdom, but there's still more outrage over Harambi the silverback than Philando Castile, violently attacked...
Pronunciation please: Blac (black) B-L-A-C
is still the same pronouncement without the
K.....K... K . Still afraid to wake up day after day after day... Not knowing if this could be our last where the blackness on our skin becomes our permanent surroundings
Or Not knowing if this could be our last where the blackness on our skin becomes the ghost of Christmas future, the past and present left to rest in peace...
We should be praising the Lord when we wake up on the land of living, breathing, heart beating, lub dub lub dub....
HANDS UP ..... But you asked for my license's I was already reaching...
Don't shoot.... But I wasn't planning to, my four year old is in clear view.
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 9:14 PM UTC
oracle leave your windows open
out from my mind
breathe into my heart
god went
widows vast sleep
black veil beneath the dirt
eyeless destitution
envy me a-wake
circumspect
swollen world beneath lids of glass
unable to stray unwilling to relent
cold hands ofwind
reeving rain of maggots
wriggled warring past palms of dissonance
to feed them and to feed the earth that bore them
line fingers slip into pockets white glow,
bent backwards
through traps set in speaking walls
woven together wet red on lattice
ravagingthrough energy
paused
staring at a moon wolf dressed in drag
sputter out coughs in vain
when he hustled away some rain away
with bitter sentiments + cooling breezes
insects skitter blac the town
human is old and slowly leaving
he rose like a god
light emanate grey and white below
blanket the stars in violet and warm
mass falls onto backs
ascending he smiled
light of a thousand suns
fill into the cracks
cobblestone and wood
heart cold and dead
lives beast again
Jul 23, 2015
Jul 23, 2015 at 3:28 PM UTC
staring at the moon a wolf dressed in drag
sputtered out coughs in vain
when he hustled away the rain away
with bitter sentiments + cooling breezes
insects skitter blac the town
human is old and slowly leaving
ressurected a god
Jul 23, 2015
Jul 23, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
due justice wake
a knew knyte
cast knot
forbid lite
toward blac sheep
warmth of crowe
for crow owe we
why saken nick grows
due bidding all siblings
Oct 29, 2019
Oct 29, 2019 at 3:57 AM UTC