"blacker" poems
1
It was one of those clear,sharp.mustless days
That summer and man delight in.
Never had Heaven seemed quite so high,
Never had earth seemed quite so green,
Never had the world seemed quite so clean
Or sky so nigh.
And I heard the Deity’s voice in
The sun’s warm rays,
And the white cloud’s intricate maze,
And the blue sky’s beautiful sheen.
2
I looked to the heavens and saw him there,—
A black speck downward drifting,
Nearer and nearer he steadily sailed,
Nearer and nearer he slid through space,
In an unending aerial race,
This sailor who hailed
From the Clime of the Clouds.—Ever shifting,
On billows of air
And the blue sky seemed never so fair,
And the rest of the world kept pace.
3
On the white of his head the sun flashed bright;
And he battled the wind with wide pinions,
Clearer and clearer the gale whistled loud,
Clearer and clearer he came into view,—
Bigger and blacker against the blue.
Then a dragon of cloud
Gathering all its minions
Rushed to the fight,
And swallowed him up in a bite;
And the sky lay empty clear through.
4
Long I watched. And at last afar
Caught sight of a speck in the vastness;
Ever smaller,ever decreasing,
Ever drifting,drifting awayInto the endless realms of day;
Finally ceasing.
So into Heaven’s vast fastness
Vanished that bar
Of black,as a fluttering star
Goes out while still on its way.
5
So I lost him. But I shall always see
In my mind
The warm,yellow sun,and the ether free;
The vista’s sky,and the white cloud trailing,
Trailing behind,—
And below the young earth’s summer-green arbors,
And on high the eagle,—sailing,sailing
Into far skies and unknown harbors
40.4k
Guns and more guns need to be put down
Bullets should be replaced with education being the sound
It’s time to become a success
Yet it’s up to our young people to put that to the test
Their testimony surrounding confess
Everyone has capabilities to learn
However, one must adapt to theories forming concepts
Imagine having a college degree for all to see
Having confident being your own decree
The movement of action in making education what it should be
A mind is a terrible thing to waste
But the key is to make education your base
Former President Barack Obama had the right idea, “You Can”
But the new continued motto, “You shall Until”
A young man at a United ***** College Fund Raiser said this vital point, “Blacker the college Sweeter the education”
Education being the unity, but bring back to the community
Determination in step out and explore
Seeing one’s horizon but beyond the shore
A college education is an opportunity being a chance
Knowing the theories is how one will advance
Higher Education means being one step ahead
But the opposition wants minds to be misled
Prove to yourself what education can do for you
It’s a journey being a must to go through
Achievers such as Dr. Martin Luther King, Medgar Evers, Dr. Maya Angelou and scores of others
They instilled the passion in how to achieve, and determined education was what they were going to receive
They were ready no matter what
Fasten your educational seat belt as you will be taking off into Higher Learning Institutions in education beyond measure
Education is, but hold tight to the learning saddle
It might seem like a battle
But the end rewards is succeed
Slavery that was while be came destined for education now
One word leads to a complete sentence
One’s thoughts illustrates the understanding
Adaptability of the concepts gained
Long lasting knowledge is what will remain
UNCF philosophy, “A mind is a terrible thing to waste”
But the mind must be ready to spiral and absorb
But education and knowledge work all accord.
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 2:30 PM UTC
I.
the emperor
sleeps in a palace of porphyry
which was a million years building
he takes the air in a howdah
of jasper beneath saffron
umbrellas
upon an elephant
twelve foot high
behind whose ear
sits always a crowned
king twir-
ling an
ankus of
ebony
the fountains of the emperor’s
palace run sunlight and
moonlight and the emperor’s
elephant is a thousand years old
the harem of
the emperor
is carpeted with
gold cloth
from the
ceiling(one
diamond timid
with nesting incense)
fifty
marble
pillars
slipped from immeasurable
height,fall,fifty,silent
in the incense is tangled a cool moon
there are thrice-three-hundred
doors carven of chalcedony and
before every door a naked
****** watches
on their heads turbans of a hundred
colours
in their hands scimitars like windy torches
each
is
blacker than oblivion
the ladies
of the emperor’s
harem are queens
of all the earth and the rings
upon their hands are from mines
a mile deep
but the body of
the queen of queens is
more transparent
than water,she is softer than birds
2.
when the emperor is very
amorous he reclines upon
the couch of couches and
beckons with
the little
finger of his left
hand
then the
thrice-three-hundredth
door is opened by the tallest
****** and the queen
of queens comes
forth
ankles
musical with large pearls
kingdoms in her ears
at the feet of
the emperor a cithern-
player squats with
quiveringgold
body
behind
the emperor ten
elected warriors with
bodies of lazy jade
and twitching
eyelids
finger
their
unquiet
spears
the queen of queens is dancing
her subtle
body weaving
insinuating upon the gold cloth
incessantly creates patterns of sudden
lust
her
stealing body ex-
pending gathering pouring upon itself stiffenS
to a
white thorn
of desire
the taut neck of the citharede wags
in the dust the ghastly warriors
amber with lust breathe
together the emperor,exerting
himself among his pillows throws
jewels at the queen of queens and
white money upon her nakedness
he
nods
and all
depart through the bruised air aflutter with pearls
3.
they are
alone
he beckons,she rises she
stands
a moment
in the passion of the fifty
pillars
listening
while the queens of all the
earth writhe upon deep rugs
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My back is laced with scars
Given to me as a parting gift,
As a symbol of the love-that-never-was
Some have already been fully absorbed
Just their tips sticking out,
Forming a grotesque picture
Others, still fresh, still being taken in
Just their tips are slightly embedded
Another one would hardly make a difference
Might wring a cry of pain but nothing much afterwards
-
The glint of the tear as it slides down,
silently,
heedlessly,
into the black abyss,
threatening, wanting,
desperation lacing it's movements,
-
There's a silent 'plop!' sound as it touches
The floor so far below.
So far, so far that no one can see it.
So deep, so deep that no one can hear it
She hardly notices the spare, the extra
There have been too many for her to care
For one more.
A dozen more land in her back,
Angered by her impassiveness
She swivels around because she's still savouring
The ones that are there
For a minute, time stops, the blades stop
The girl's heart, or where it should've been...
That empty little space, occupied by three long
Swords stuck in it's place
They pierce right through her body,
So different from those knives that decorate her back.
Their tips face your eyes
The sword entered her through her back
It would've been a tragedy if only her eyes...
Oh, if only her eyes were something more
Than just endless holes
( - deeper, darker, blacker
more despairing than
the black abyss under her
very feet
- )
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 8:00 AM UTC
Black girls are the most juicy and sweet candies in the world: melanin masterpiece of nature, bubbly as sweet soda. Dark skin color is the most pleasant and sweet light color. Skin is like chocolate candy, sugar-marmalade taste of lips, only a dark-skinned girl can give the most juicy, juicy and sweet kiss with her big sensual lips. The skin is soft as chocolate sponge cake. Her skin shines beautifully in the light like jam, soft body parts like pudding. Lips and intimate places are so sweet as if juicy, hot, hot dark chocolate, feet like ice cream waffles. The color of her skin is like a sweet delicacy, a gorgeous dessert, sweet chocolate cream, chocolate mousse, an unforgettable sugar taste and you get into the taste, skin as if emitting hot moans of *** The blacker, the juicier and sweeter the skin, juicy relish, the hotter its sexuality and passion, like a panther with strikingly beautiful eyes, like a powerful magnet beckons to itself, fascinating for its beauty.
Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 12:52 AM UTC
homeland security
on these nuts
home land security
in your butts
home land security
look but don't touch
it's too much
for 'em to understand
***** jacker
**** in hand
hatin' big wacker
on tha attacker
i like 'em blacker
she's a ***** packer
don't like 'em battered
spell bound brain washed
what's tha matter?
Homeland Security Act
homeland security
tryin' ta scare
why can't tha government care?
socialist ideals
not tryin' to hear
hippie gal tryin' ta spread peace
until the cognizance cease
down with tha ****
come in your hair
tryin' ta do me long
they can't take it down
ya know they messin' around
neo-con trick
tryin' ta make brunette sick
don't they like the way i hold my ****
maybe i wanna take a lick
lyin' bitchin' wichin' cryin'
like a man's supposed to be dyin'
look at 'em fryin'.
sorcery zap to the court-ordered goofs
snitchin'
doin' bad things
mad federal schemes
they all occultic fiends
with yo mama church
as the ball swings
** **** on me
mother **** the holy see
what ya tryin' to be
....holy?
goons, screws, pigs and spooks
sayin cognizance aint to use
poor court ordered goofs so-abused
papists vowed in their delusions of grandeur
all you supposed ta think
...is white cop
expendable masses they say aint allowed ta know
while they call the pope pop
guardian protectors of tha white bred
they wanna make tha people brain dead
feds frivolous threats
tha number on your badge says zero
what you tryin' to be?
A super hero?
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 5:52 PM UTC
Left, right, straight ahead.
You are in the Labyrinth.
They want you. They will get you.
Their ice cold eyes are haunting you.
Blacker than the darkness clears a shadow every light.
Can you feel the hands reaching out for you?
They have implanted themselves into your head.
You're crawling away. But even if you would run..
Left, right, straight ahead. You are in the Labyrinth.
You can keep crawling.. lurching.. running away..
But deep down inside you already know
Nobody will ever see you again.
Nowhere are you really safe.
Never will you get out of here.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC
Black power!
I stopped hiding from my roots, I do not let my natural tightly coiled strands become chemically manipulated into bone straightness. I'm no longer hiding from my roots.
My natural hair will represent this
I went on an interview today for a position as a dental assistant, checked out the office on the website right after and then
oh no
The staff is all white, what if I don't get hired because of...
Black Power!
I stopped hiding from my roots; the sun is not my enemy. I no longer veil from its rays because the fear of getting "blacker." Look at that skin; love its rich deep melanin. Follow my movement; I'm no longer hiding from my roots.
My black skin will prove this
The other night I went out with a couple of new friends,
to be more precise they were homemade Alantians.
Born and raised in Atlanta!
It was a nice warm night, and at the end of it they wanted to take some pics to post up on their instagrams. But guys wait; let’s get into the light, I don’t want to appear all dark next to you light brights. You are all mixed which makes you effortlessly good lookin'
snap
Ugh I hate it I'm to black, don’t post that.
I stopped hiding from my roots, I rock my tightly coiled natural strands.
I'm not ashamed of who I am, Look at my skin and its deep rich melanin
Walking with my fist raised up in the air to represent what I on a daily contradict.
Black Power!
Forgive me, I'm new to this. When I was growing up the things that embodied our black nation was never accepted.
Black power! I'm ready to follow this radical movement.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
I gazed into his eyes like beads of sweat
Blacker than the empty spacious depths
Around the little bridge-like tiny speck,
An ember on His hearth
We only think is worth
Its broken wharfs.
He said to me: "Son, don't fear empty bluffs.
They may be steep but they're not steep enough."
And judging by the ace tucked in his cuff,
I knew he would be true
And his tale would be true too
About the wharfs.
"Throughout the many vicious centuries
The motor of it always seems to freeze
Until the kindled flame does hit the breeze
And thaws its frostbit joints
And burns the hand that points
Out from the wharf."
He cleared his throat and then he said aloud:
"Is piety reaped from fertile ground?
Or by the planter's hand is it endowed?
The answer lies in strife
So mount the throne of life
Far from the wharf."
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 5:09 PM UTC
The devil's speech say they:
Rolling, clattering, frolicking, hungry.
Billows of charred skeletons embrace the air
Black soot pumped straight from the pyres of Hades
Congealing to clouds of evil intent wherever it roam.
That charred old shell so terse,
Black as sadness and dead as a hearse,
Darling to death as he brings on the rain:
The dry rolling thunder of the funeral train.
In the coughing desert
Not a thing dares roam
Neither wind nor creature
And neither stick nor stone.
But then the silence disturbed by a horrible shriek -
The railway screams in horror and the train itself speaks, saying
"Tell me, thou innocent,
Why feel you special and best?
For when all is done I take you
And return you to my nest;
Your world is bright and happy
Full of high spirits and song,
Though soon you too shall step aboard
And join my faceless throng."
Hot saliva on the heaving engines:
Weeping, groaning, ghostly, parched.
Rusted joints spewed onwards grinding resisting
Movement spat out like a violently beaded string of curses
Sloppily uttered as incantations of a malformed mouth!
From that charred old shell so terse,
Black as sadness and dead as a hearse,
Darling to death as he brings on the rain:
The dry rolling thunder of the funeral train.
That dark train cries out and all around
A mourning whimper rises like slumbering fog-
Bleak and yellow it obscures the land
Seeping out insidious in strange locales all:
The old lonely fisherman
Sleeping on his wharf,
The frustrated hawker's
Windblown barefaced booth,
Silent streets crying for attention,
Dark places hidden at the corner of every eye.
That solemn train cries out and all around
Her mourning whimper rises like harrowing fog
Calling all to upright attention and fear.
Looming like a spectre but a breath-span from your window
Slowly closing cold dread claws-
Naked numbness dumb as ice-
Cold dread claws upon thy waist.
And you,
You poor old thing,
Shivering in your pitiful shack of bones,
You never had any chance!
You were only human.
You were only human, you poor old thing.
Barreling on with brimstone slang:
Clang clang! Dang dang! Beelz Bub!
Sputtering an ocean of curses from turgid goat-flesh
Born of sadness to cause even more, yawning great maw
Jowls clanking with fresh hot oil drool steaming stark and lewd, and yet
That charred old shell so terse,
Blacker than sadness and slain like a hearse,
Is all that gives meaning to our every gain:
The dry rolling thunder of the funeral train.
Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 12:10 AM UTC
*inhale exhale
my God i'm scared to fail
i got to get some things off my mind
sombody spoke of healing with smoke
it'll hurt
but it's worth it for a short time*
**breathe in the war thinking the fight will fade away
when slowly your lungs start to deteriorate**
*walking though the clouds for a moment of relief
coming back to earth with an addiction and blacker teeth*
**breathe in the demons, breath out the light
repeat the cycle when you don't wanna fight**
*the cigarette smoke, the cigarette smoke
and where will you go when the demons come home
the cigarette smoke, you're holdng it close*
and you can't let go
*i never wanted this
thought that i owned it
but turns out that it owns me*
**i'm getting weaker, a heartache
a fever
this is burning down my family tree
breathe in the war thinking you're fighting for the wrong side
turns out you're in the middle of the fight**
*walking through the clouds for a moment of relfief
coming back to earth with an addiction and blacker teeth*
**breathe in the demons, breathe out the lies
like when they told you that you had to fight**
*the cigarette smoke, the cigarette smoke
an where will you go when the demons come home
the cigarette smoke, you're holding it close
and you can't let go*
**the demons creeping up on me
been so long since i could really breathe
sombody help me before i die**
*walking through the clouds for a moment of relief
coming back to earth with an addiction and blacker teeth*
**breathe in the demons, breathe out the life
repeat the cycle because it's too hard to fight
the cigarette smoke, the cigarette smoke
and where will you go when the demons come home
the cigarette smoke, you're holding it close
and you can't let go**
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
no novocaine, no experience
the nurse on break
tells me to "wait right there."
the big lights above the pleather chair
my pale skin illuminated and glowing
under rays of white white light -
and I'm tied down like a
banded submissive
to a blacker than black chair
it's only me and invisible monsters
in a game of
cat mouse tick tock
tick tock
sweating, I realize I must move
there's no other option for this lab rat
I feel like
All I've ever been, is here -
sprawled out in the open
hand choked of blood and oxygen
I cannot take this
I cannot take this!
Something in my mind turns off
Something in my mind turns on
I chew the soft parts away easiest
it slides in my mouth
my teeth are cold and wet now
Chattering and lurching sounds
come from my mouth & teeth
as the splinters of bone
crackle away in my bite.
It took either a minute or a day
But it was over.
And so,
I left it there
tied to that black chair.
I opened the glass-paneled door with an exit 'bing',
and I was happy I never met the Doctor.
Apr 5, 2012
Apr 5, 2012 at 1:52 PM UTC
Night covers the pond with its wing.
Under the ringed moon I can make out
your face swimming among minnows and the small
echoing stars. In the night air
the surface of the pond is metal.
Within, your eyes are open. They contain
a memory I recognize, as though
we had been children together. Our ponies
grazed on the hill, they were gray
with white markings. Now they graze
with the dead who wait
like children under their granite breastplates,
lucid and helpless:
The hills are far away. They rise up
blacker than childhood.
What do you think of, lying so quietly
by the water? When you look that way I want
to touch you, but do not, seeing
as in another life we were of the same blood.
3.8k
I find it very difficult to enthuse
Over the current news.
Just when you think that at least the outlook is so black that it can grow no blacker, it worsens,
And that is why I do not like the news, because there has never been an era when so many things were going so right for so many of the wrong persons.
3.5k
Remember Wesley’s Theory. Remember they haven’t taught you everything.
And no one actually gives anything For Free. Don’t take it and expect to give nothing back.
They will beat it out of you. Spit back King Kunta even though you’ll feel nothing like royalty.
Google Institutionalized. The first example reads, The danger of discrimination becoming
Institutionalized.
Maybe they didn’t want to flat out say racism?
And instead pretend like u won’t try to climb over These Walls.
You in Trumps America now boy, everything ain’t just gonna be Alright.
You might wake up tomorrow, sign chained to your ankles, “For Sale”.
Momma never warned you. At least you don’t remember, you haven’t talked lately.
You never understood Hood Politics, found yourself on the wrong block
Too much change in your pocket tryna to figure out How Much a Dollar Cost
But the Complexion of your currency ain’t quite correct cuz
That’s when you realize The Blacker the Berry, the less like you.
You Ain’t Gotta Lie, you like where you are now.
Starting to think i belong and ****
But remember, even though you know how to **** a Butterfly, you’re just a Mortal Man.
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 6:06 AM UTC
I come from sunshine.
Sunshine thick enough to form a blanket over tanned skin
And African insects that bite to live,
Empty stomachs and full hearts
And dancing in the sand before the sunset.
I come from winter.
Where the drunkards freeze in streetways
And there is hot stew for dinner
And my grandmother is a young girl who loves the way the sky turns dark so early,
And sugar sandwiches.
I come from rain.
The different personalities of the sky
Whether Big Ben is spitting on you or weeping for you
And the grey matches the bags under our eyes,
Where everyone is always moving.
Everyone has a place to go to.
I come from love.
Declarations too many years ago, and
The way a story sets my stomach alight
And holding a loved one in your arms
Holding a pet in your arms
And listening for the one verse where one phrase puts the planets back in orbit.
I come from anger.
Thrown against my own kind,
Born for another,
And internal screams that writhe beneath skin,
And the injustice of the person that didn't win
And a history blacker than the same skin it burned with no remorse,
Righteous anger that was never right
And a growing frustration at the living.
I come from destruction.
The sound that trees make when they break under the caress of steel teeth
And the way that houses grow where forests died
The pictures of animals that used to breathe
And a pollution so thick it has turned my blood to sludge.
I come from an hourglass
And clocks,
A repetitive countdown,
A marathon or sponsored run
And the last stretch.
I come from blue.
And green.
And the black that means nothing,
Space
And a planet revolving
Repeating.
Revolving.
Repeating.
Revolve.
Repeat.
Then end.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 3:56 PM UTC
the new tupac will have you too walkin with gangstas
the new two stupidity now two steppin with prankstas
murked the first one sayin he's blacker the berry
when i'm sweeter than juice
bass voiced top me if you want to experience that jacked tweeters induced
when i own all of Victoria's secrets as proof
tellin me what the body when all his deducement has him actin when he's wearin his shoes
crypt walking like that it's only talk
missed balking like has bass fits jocking as his only walk
******* with me when All Hailed Mary like if she was his when is only stolen balk
I'm walkin again the gauntlet cuz all the women they want this flauntin all **** like if i was jackin all the wanted
like ghost whippin me imma follow you till i'm haunted
pain really, so bow down, when my diamonds glisten
listen again is just as well bilateral biased has his confused his like the ol' eminem was in the new form gettin his face jacked again
like me smokin crack with friends like all given enemies stressed was all given was a race black and then
we actually are the same race like i knew you back like i owned all the streets like his females thuggin as heathen
**** riding i'll **** your *** up like settin me up when i'm always the last muthafucken breathin
exposing the ***** heathen breathin like if you were the only man catching bullet rounds exposed like the new you was still alive
to the next ** hiked my socks up construed you at hit stupidity when will ride
ghettos owned by just the black reppin when you're steppin the whack, honest it was just onyx
i'll blast your *** like if you stole my pump shotty:
like i never was wanted runst follies
anamoly run has all criminal cops all fathering fun deceiving that all to gain was never greed when all greed in need bothering sons:
all you still down with me when we ride it
looking like a *** while i'm guy gee stag when you're looking into their eyes, they'd know comparison of a bird control as if fathering guys
my knowledge is flight applauding the time, are you still down with me
i hide behind the love of beauty of my womens eyes when you're looking like the female opened you up to your face compared to opening thighs
they don't know like how you stare in the future that tommorow comes only after the dark
knowing me marks the coming of the actual god
I am "unconditional heart"
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 11:59 AM UTC
Past rolling hills
green valleys and beautiful woods.
Over falls wondrous
and meadows gold.
Through towns and villages
snow covered and cold.
Over oceans vast
and jungles deep
Lies,
the mountain mammoth.
Great stones
mere bones
before its sprawling feet.
Standing in awe
at its Gothic magnificence.
All creations lying under the shadow
of this monstrous heap.
They dance in reverence
they bask in the terrible embrace,
of the mountain mammoth.
This far away mountain
oh fiery fountain.
Oh ginormous mongrel
oh hideous evil.
Enveloping all life
purging all love.
Decimating madness
the end of all things.
Fear erupts from it
like water from a spring.
Darkness covers the mountain
darkness blacker then pitch.
Darkness that no light ever can touch
not even the stars
those resilient lanterns.
All hope is dashed at the walls
of the mammoth mountain.
All hope is forsaken at the foot
of the great fiery fountain.
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 12:14 PM UTC
Since the days of my youth
My magic prevailed
No smoke and mirrors
No fear of hell
This part of me has never died
Hidden behind Hazel Eyes
Beyond sight the description of soul
Blacker than black, lower than low
Ignorance to cover up my wise
Hidden behind Hazel Eyes
Love and hateful molecules compress
Chemical reaction under my breath
Angels and demons cling to my side
Hidden behind Hazel Eyes
The laughter of spirits ring in my ears
Invisible beings long to appear
October moons stand still in my skies
Reflected in Hazel Eyes...
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 5:12 PM UTC
I breathe in with the rain, sigh with the wind
All is wrong, the sky is white, the clouds blue
Lying in agony, for I have sinned
The color of my pain now changes hue
I beg mercy, my soul becomes blacker
My misery fades but then reoccurs
The world against the world, please just take her
No one's here for anyone, visions blur
I am no one, I am white against white
In constant pain but nowhere to turn to
I give in to my sins, I've lost my fight
Tearful eyes look 'round, the happy are few
Why do I live in a world filled with pain
What the hell's the point, there's nothing to gain
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 9:29 PM UTC
so it begins when it begins
blasé grass serrates
past herds of carabao dreaming anxiously
of the day's toil;
the countryman stilts through
mounted in gray mountain
with dippers, casserole, mirrors
with imprints of ******** clad women
and women who are (really ******** clad) ready for bathing work,
collections of red days and even
tenderly the ***** sing attenuated songs of rooming-houses —
the crunch of basil over the afternoon.
waft of a pasture's death my eyes well
up rivers and ponds of elation. dog days, feral nights limp behind rusted
kennels and makeshift asylums
there is nothing left of the world
(this small world
that only rises when bellows
of festivities harangue the many streets
bending in them, the curve)
men moving from neck to neck
of bottles — (in the north there
is only four corners of bottle: gin,
pristine brook; in the Visayas is
the redolent Vino Kulafu of the same
potency) plucked out of the vermilion
and on benched careening on half-painted gates crooning Sinatra
gets stabbed, bloodied on the floor,
named after elegies; native chicken held
upside down and beheaded as many blacker days stifled; what do you make
out of this?
carabaos, equines, hens line up
the slaughterhouse behind the
TODA; you know a fine day when
it happens — breaking eggs
against the lip of the kaldero. crumbled
archaic sensurround, barrage of
simmer round the clock cycling
before the child wakes and wails to suckle
our mothers, faster than repose
of milbrightlions of stars falling asleep
to silent radios, leaving windows
open revisited by the eve of cold.
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 10:24 PM UTC
I see it in her eyes!
"Guys look at so many girls," with a sigh.
Then I saw your heart was loving mine.
A being one with understanding.
A smile that caressed my shoulder.
An ease that could make me slip into sleep.
Like a beauty she slept
No heart to win
Spirit hovered over her
as if apart, yet a part of her.
I wondered what dreams she could be having,
Whose heart heaven could be sharing
I wondered how many breaths she'd ever breathed.
I wonder about the time I'm wasting
making you my center of concentration.
I wonder why you're not blacker.
Wonder why you're not whiter.
I wonder why there's no crust in your eye.
wonder why you're not more recognized
by colleges.
Then I realize the softness of your pillow.
I wonder what island you're from.
Your curls turn into a flame
of salamanders before my eyes.
I want to kiss the air you breathe.
I want to taste your makeup on your face.
I want to thank the taxpayers
for our food.
I want to thank the elements
for the extra bump off center in your chin.
I want to take away your hurt and pain.
I want you to rule over all men.
You look at me like I'm not mature.
You've found my secret
you won't tell.
I never paid any of your bills.
You said, "No, I need a man."
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 6:31 AM UTC
There's little to have but the things I had,
There's little to bear but the things I bore.
There's nothing to carry and naught to add,
And glory to Heaven, I paid the score.
There's little to do but I did before,
There's little to learn but the things I know;
And this is the sum of a lasting lore:
Scratch a lover, and find a foe.
And couldn't it be I was young and mad
If ever my heart on my sleeve I wore?
There's many to claw at a heart unclad,
And little the wonder it ripped and tore.
There's one that'll join in their push and roar,
With stories to jabber, and stones to throw;
He'll fetch you a lesson that costs you sore:
Scratch a lover, and find a foe.
So little I'll offer to you, my lad;
It's little in loving I set my store.
There's many a maid would be flushed and glad,
And better you'll knock at a kindlier door.
I'll dig at my lettuce, and sweep my floor,
Forever, forever I'm done with woe.
And happen I'll whistle about my chore,
"Scratch a lover, and find a foe."
L'ENVOI
Oh, beggar or prince, no more, no more!
Be off and away with your strut and show.
The sweeter the apple, the blacker the core:
Scratch a lover, and find a foe!
2.4k
Text her. Send her messages that she won't know how to respond to. she'll read them and put her phone down. Stare at the read receipt for hours until you realize she's not picking the phone back up, she doesn't have anything to say to you.
Eat lots of chocolate. It has serotonin in it, the happy chemical. When you cuddle with her, your brain releases oxytocin. As long as you eat enough chocolate (and throw it up) you won't miss the oxytocin one bit.
Bleed. When she tells you that she cuts herself, cut deeper. This is guerrilla warfare now, and for every shot fired you must fire back.
Read your messages. Laugh at the nicknames she used. "Princess". "Baby". "Darlin". You were never her princess, never her baby. She was the child and you were merely her plaything.
Make art. Write dumb poetry about falling in and out of love, take photographs of your ****** thighs, paint a picture using only shades of red. Let her figure out what all these things mean.
Drink. Green tea, ***** over-priced lattes. Stay up all night crying. Wear stilettos. Sit in art museums all alone and wonder if being a starving artist is as much fun as it sounds. Take long showers and harmonize with your favorite songs through your tears. Use heavier, blacker eyeliner. Spend time on yourself. Adopt a cat. But most of all, remember this:
You can only love one person. Choose yourself
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 2:43 PM UTC