Our beginning , like new life
was pure.

So far away are the days that like the horizon seemed filled with eternal promises to face
side by side.

First as friends,
then as frolicking fools
too blind to see the roads sharp fork
that would divide like a deep chasm.

Still, we rushed forward
on passions temporary fuel
hitting the first bump,
soon to be trapped in a cycle
of blissful agony,
like new life growing only to wilt
in the unceasing cold to come.

But, as a dead flower leaves a seed,
So did we leave scars,
that tells a tale to carry each of us
with the other as we move on.
Perhaps,
A lesson learned or a wound
to be examined on colder days,
that like the markers along
a journey
guides us going forward.

So as dents display the wisdom our once
fresh bodies did develope on our trip,

We learned to seek out bumps to avoid
and though we drive different roads
In opposite seasons,
peace floods me as
the passing road markers
down memory lane become
like the grave stone on that forking road
where I layed each wilted petal
of the flower on the dash
to rest along the road on that autumn trip.

lungs
Consisting of elastic sacs with branching passages into which air is drawn so that oxygen can pass into the blood and carbon dioxide be removed

You planted flowers in mine and my body has not adjusted to breathe the different air.

I have forever felt at one with nature  and hold the desire to assimilate myself in to it
But Today my body is not ready
My body will not accepted that as nature  I will be stepped on
My body is A lot stronger then my heart is

I want my chest to be molded to hold all of which you want to give me
I want to say my carbon dioxide receptors will develope
like I can turn by body into something it is not
for you
but truthfully i know better

My body is resistant.
My muscles fight for me when i am on longer doing it on my own
When i don't understand that this is a battle to the death
I wanted to give you something and didn't even contemplate that you could to **** it

I don't think it was intentional
But you have uprooted all of my nourishment and put it in my lungs
and although it is beautiful I cannot digest from my lungs

My life as this is not yet over
I have drawn from my skin all of what it had and more
I have picked at my bones i have tried to push them closer together
I have tried to make my body pretty and artfull

upon finding out that beautiful starts with self acceptance
I worked on believing that i am beautiful
I was coming to peace with loving myself
I had become a garden of my own
flourishing off of what i had around me

When you arrived you began to dig up the roots I was using to cope
swinging your shovel around like you didn't know the importance of what you were doing
WHile you were teaching me that your acceptance of me was more important than that of my own

The mind of which i follow told me that this was okay.
My body called *******, not ready to be stepped on
You had felt me with the rest of your body
And planting the flowers in my lungs was so you could feel me under your feet

Your feet are not the ones i want to be underneath
When my body is ready i will go into the ground
And the bereaved and the grave diggers and distraught will walk across me and my body will become that of another nature

For the first time my body will feel completely solid.

I tend to have a deep endearment and emotional intrest in coldhearted people, i see good in them, and i want to develope a relationship with them, i fall inlove with what i know they can be, i want to be there for them and see what there about, i have this huge thing for ******* type people, but sometimes when you play with fire, theres a great possibility you will get burned.

I write  myself love letters
That really make me blush
Like **** I must be sir mix Alot cause I ****** love ur fat ****

It's a surprise your not conceited
Anyway, I won't bug u
I just wanted to tell u ur amazing
P.S: I LOVE YOU

Cause I make mirrors look
Beautiful but u knew that I'm sure
I'm too **** to quote"I'm too ****"
sooo **** right said Fred's insecure

I look in the mirror and I cant
Help be a romantic falling in love
I can't believe god gave me so
much beauty and some not enough

What Am I doing looking in the mirror
U ask, well see I can't be far
From myself so I name my mirror
****** cuz it makes me hard

And since I'm so in love with me
And get so satisfied I'm needing
To stop having *** with ppl and just
******* or I feel I'm cheating

On the best thing to come in my life
Until my son was born
Everyone else is hard to digest so They r children of the corn

Me myself and my ****
So my *** tape is me
And I look cute as any fatter
Ron Jeremy would obviously be

Me in 3d without a 3d tv
It's emphatically amazing
Bubble bath, wine, a mirror, light flirting Then shower after bathing

Cause I keep making a mess all
Over Myself
Like Ernie does Burt or Santa does
To a slow toy making elf

I'm addicted so I need out
Ophelia plz Help!....**** it
Cuz if I loved someone over loving me
that "someone" will go above this

Love i have for myself and be
poetic as Me beautiful hair like me
A great sense of humor, like me
man who am I kidding its unlikely

There's no one that's  like me
So I touch myself alot
If beauty's in the eye of the beholder
Than everyone's be holding so stop

Telling me I'm incredibly conceited
Cuz I already knew
But how am I conceited when the
Fact is I'm amazing it's totally true

Even my mom says I'm special
And I don't mean I'm whacked
Even though sometimes toilet paper rips while wiping so nasty is that

But lucky for me in fact
Is My crap doesn't stink
I've never been in love with a
Man before but now I am i think

I maybe wearing more pink
Cause it makes me look good
Actually I can't look any better
So I make pink be what it should

**** like me, cuz I'm too
**** to be honest to ever be
With anyone else cause I'm
Almost even too good for me

But we all have to settle
At one time, and before I leave
Let me explain to u why I wrote
this and  hope it's not what it seems

Cause it seems I can be a bit
Down on myself alot lately
Like we all can be when we don't see
anything we like in mirrors making

It hard to let go of the insecurities
Kept bottled inside
Cuz society makes us feel only
Models are easy on the eyes

So I wrote this out
To trick myself into a balance
Hoping the self love will develope
If I first generically enforce the habit

To accept and love myself
Like u should do too
So write yourself some conceited
*** **** And set it all free

Cuz i figure my figure or lack of
Figures in the bank
Would suppress if I contest
My emotional mess and thank

Myself for pointing out all
The things that make me cool
Instead of feeling like the high school
Drop out I am, feelin like a fool

So I lie like I don't feel like a tool
Or stool and say im a star
And I call my bathroom mirror ******
Cuz it always gets me hard

"" OH Lord it's hard to be humble
When your perfect in every way...
I cant wait to look in a mirror
Cause I get better looking
each day "" -- Mac Davis

I hold on to my cigarette for that last drag,
Right before I almost flick it
The last breath of calming air,
The last moment to not worry.
I salute the sky with my cup
To taste the last drop of bourbon
Because sleeping sober seems daunting.
I watch the pines bend, hearing them creak,
With the scent of old oak split for the fire,
I'm nervous and confident and shy
And outgoing and hateful and happy,
And I love kissing and cooking,
I've been to almost every state,
Taking in gorgeous terrain,
I write for "you" for "her" for "me",
For "them" and about nothing,
I sing from my heart and develope
True lies from what's inside me,
I want my friends and family to
Die first so that I know no one will
Will miss me because dying is bad enough,
But knowing they're hurting more is worse.
I look up at the stars at night when
I can see them, and I wonder
"Where am I going?"
And every time, I swear to God,
A shooting star flies.
You'd think something so fast would
Make a sound, but its silence only
Preserves it's glory.
I always heard that they were rare,
I've seen so many, I've lost count,
And honestly, I think that's a tragedy
Because I should awe and wonder at such
Faithless beauty.
I don't think that I am different,
I think I am myself,
But I also counter argue
With the fact that if everyone were themself
We'd all be the same.
Individual sheep in a herd.
These are mindless ramblings,
Of a worried and loving person,
But also the fears of a mildly depressed human.
I go back home to clear my head
And appreciate that I am welcome.
It's an odd thought, but I realize
That is one hundred times better than
Some people have it.
I'm concerned but greatful,
I'm awash with misery,
I'm excited and resilient,
And happy, and dismayed.
It's hard when you know who you are,
But not how to Be.

Suffering sadness,
Trapped in your own dillusional sense of a fictional reality,
Created by a minipulative enabler,
Every bump,
Scratch,
Pain,
Hive,
Belly ache,
Sore throat,
Something more then what is.
False accusations turn into a desperate desire to develope a deeply fatal disease.
Harmful self punches and bites,
Create bruises on your body.
Lies.
Everyone a false ****** up mistake.
Not a **** up, but severely ****** up.
Dismissing the only one who saw through the ******* and still loved you.
The only one who helped you.
The only one who tried to make you see.
Not a friend.
But to you, just an immature drama queen.
Why fight for a back stabber?
A liar?
Someone who has never been there for me when I needed you most.
Inconsiderate.
The opposite of love is indifference,
To hate is to feel emotion.
No hatred.
Pity.
I pity you.
You will be forever alone.
No one will stand by you as I stood by you.
All will see through the *******.
Once they see,
No one will stay.
You have no one.
I feel sorry for you.
Sorry.
Sorry.

Fresh at birth
So smooth and small
Fingers with such little girth
Even as you learn to crawl

So smooth and small
No longer
Even as you learn to crawl
Your hands become stronger

No longer
As you move through life
Your hands become stronger
Pulling you through strife

As you move through life
Your hands develope
Pulling you through strife
Innocence past corrupt

Your hands develope
Touching the life of others
Innocence past corrupt
But gentle as lovers

Touching the life of others
Finding a spouce
But gentle as lovers
Love unable to douse

Finding a spouce
New hands coming to Earth
Love unable to douse
Fresh at birth

who designated
the negative  and
abstract term of
the
*****
to represent
the race of
our beautiful
multi-tribal
Black People
the *****
represents
something that is dead
and insignificant but
Black People
are full of life
love and happiness
what gives
other people
the moral authority
justification or
the moral right
to define
Black Folks or
to tell us
what to think
Black Women
must stop purchasing
crazy hair products'
weaves extensions
for their hair and
creams and gels
to lighten up
their skin
to look
more European
with sraight hair
so we must define
our own beauty
within us
because we
always possessed it
stop buying
unecessary
Black hair products
from Asian shops and
making them rich
from our hard earn cash
no other racial groups
would come into our
Black communities
to support or
buy goods and services
from Black own businesses
we must take care of
our own
first and formost
Black Women
must develope
a more
natural look
in harmony
with God
and display
our healthy
curly kninky
shiny natural dynamic  and
beautiful black hair
we must consolidate
our financial resources and
build Black  own businesses
and products
to take care of our own needs
God made us
in His
own image
our Black Women
have always been
the beautiful queens
of the River Nile and
only we
can determine
all of that
furthermore
no other race
on this planet
shall define us
let me
tell you something
about them Negros
logically and scientifically
if we go back
far enough
from here
to Timbuktu
the Chinese
come from China
an Irishman comes
from Ireland
Frenchmen come
from France
an Englishman
comes from England
Germans comes
from Germany
so on and so forth
but
where in the hell
did the *****
come from
logically
he comes from
Negroland
however
this is
just a plain old fashion
cotton-picking lie
bigotry ignorence
prejudice and stupidity
at work here
Black People
are the
original people of
this earth and created
from the black soil of
Mother Africa
we are
stolen people
taken from
Mother Africa
against our
free will
Black People
did not volunteer
to come to America
but we have
every right
to live or die
in the pursuit of happiness
just like any other group
that successfuly made it
in America
and we help
to build America
and turned it
into a superpower
rich nation
yet
for the
love of money
greed and power
capitalism
thus created
a monster
called racism
towards
people of color
Black People
are the
original People
evolved from
Mother Africa
thus
we are made from
the image God
rejoice upon it
born with black skin
is not a curse but
a blessing
from God up above

My memories look faded, like old instant develope polaroid film in a photo album. Today, pictures are almost all digital, and more vibrant, than real time. I wonder; how will the future memories of today's young children look? Is their vision of the future as cloudy my own?

There are days when it seems the world feels smaller,
Maybe, I'm being overly self-conscious.
Probably.
Today, I have to pack my ****.
I'm moving back home,
I'm not ready to be alone.
Yet, here I sit.
At the same spot I wrote "All children make mistakes"
This will either be a "part two" maybe just another "Untitled"
I'm throwing back two shots of whisky
And putting the empty bottle in my pocket.
I know I'm a good poet,
I know at some point I've written something someone could relate to.
Maybe even saved a life.
I'll never know,
I don't think I want to.
Growing up I always wanted to be like the people who saved me,
Develope some ability to stop someone from...
Well, let's face it. I'm scared of the word.
It's like it has the ability to turn from letters into a rope slipping up my leg,
A snake in the grass
And tie itself around my neck and lead me like cattle.
I'm strong
I'm strong
I'm...
I'm just a ****** up kid
in a twenty year old's body.
Ive realized that the pressure that comes with saving a life is overwhelming,
Too much for little 'ole me.
"I'm not like the rest."
I am.
I know I am.
My depression is bad.
Real bad.
I'm scared it'll rip you away like a scab,
You'll tear the scar tissue and be freed
While I'm left with a hole, bleeding.
My now ex-roommates
keep asking me if I'm okay.
Nah, I'm not.
I'm so lost.
Happy with things, honestly.
It all kinda worked out.
I'm just lost.
And I wanted to talk to you about it on our walk.
But, you wanted to be with your friends.
It's okay though. I'll just pack my **** in a bit and when you ask if I'm okay,
I'll pretend I didn't write this.
Not to spite you,
But because I'll have pushed it into the box of negativity that everyone calls a heart.
Well, metaphorically.

the tangible body is never truly free
after all, this is why the mind exists
as it allows the figments to develope, where would they fly?
i often wondered what bird would sit on its own wings
to keep themselves from escaping their caged heads

Any animal in
the forest that
suddenly decides
to develope and
grows a horn
just because of me,
will definitely finds
out that it's
horn will eventually
be used as a cup
to drink wine.
I am like
the praying mantis
that dances
before it kills.
Calm and calculative,
focused and thoughtful,
tactful and mindful,
meditative and intuitive.
But can also
be dangerous for
the praying mantis kills.
The dance steps
and movements
are hypnotic and
mesmerizing.
A little mistake
can drastically cause
you your joy
and happiness,
even your life
and be the
little storm that
turns into a
big deal that
can mess up
your life.
It's like the
***** and the
excrete of the
mythical animal
set as a bait
to catch it's prey.
But what does
it all mean.
Don't mess up
what is so
important to you
just because you
are a little
unsure of who
you are.
©2019,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.

Through time and space there are a million minds that mirror my own. We share idea, though somewhat distorted between us and many times we have never met or heard the original idea. There is something in the convergence of our existence that causes great ideas to develope sperately but similiarly. This is to be expected we live on the same planet, share similiar forms, feel similiar emotions and have acces to similiar information and technology.

Even though only a couple of days passed
I still worry where you were seen last
For some reason I start to develope
All these illusions that get me enveloped

She’s probably busy
She’s probably ill
I hope it’s one of those
I hope not to wait here still

My brain is awash in budding friendships and cephalopods.

I think at this point it's safe to assume that all of my favorite ones are those who develope intelligence on their own, spineless or not.
Less of a social impetus than one of sheer simple survival.
An adaptation to life-threatening and serious impacts.

And the awkwardness invariably involved tends to tickle me various colors.
And the people who judge might as well be a den full of sharks, bodies going taught at the sense of fresh blood.

They can all **** right off.

I'm not the one to see how you'd warn them off. I'm more interested in seeing how you'd react to fun.

What would happen if one of your many limbs reached out towards one of mine?

Would our color-changes clash,
or would they match?
Would we play off each other until a new spawn was hatched?

It took millions of years for us to find the courage to leave our shells.
Now we're out here constantly shifting/adjusting/conforming by ourselves.

Would it really be so crazy for us to occasionally help each other out?

In the darkest parts of my being.
So many category of monster would surface.
The constant mistake and behavior of people allow them to break restraints and attack.
My mess up needs and wants help feed their selfishness and taint all the uncorrupted parts of me.
It's weird how they don't leave any bruises or mark but somehow they can hurt me.
I have found and forge so many weapons against them.
I have develope different tactic against those who bring them to life.
Let's just say it a on going battle.
It's obvious who's winning.
One vs infinity.
But it's OK.
All that they stole from me I'll somehow take back.
Lord knows when I will find other to join the psychological fight.
'til then I'll deal with this alone.

Woke up, with joy.
Thankful to the Lord.

Woke up, with love.
Love, for everyone.

If this feeling was develope?
We all be a happy human.
Through depression.
Through sadness.
Hosts of a various theme.

Woke up, with happiness.
Thankful to the Lord

Cause of him, I woke up.
It was all by his decision to wake me up.

Woke up, with a smile.
Only if, we spread it around.

So those walking around?
Would smile more?

Cause some seem to have woke up.

I am a fly, attracted by nacreous glow,
I promise I will never be proud,
But always stand to be loud;
When I see the crowd,
I have my face wearing smiles,
But deep inside me I mingle with cry;


I know,  I'm, but veteran of all vice, but don't want be a vibe.
Oh God open my eyes,
Not to set my feet on a deep mire;
Too many threats of weaken signs,
Still I'm a humble ghost of living life.

An igniting panorama of Prague symmetrical is always inline,
Hence, I **** a sense of comiting crime.

I always have mine along the side,
Ignore by people who think they're wise,
I'm not unwise, only need a crown of life; I try to move with rhyme, sworn by my own time, and the demands me to pay a dime,
When they truly know I'm drenched with grime and some much slime,
Here I'm all time climb;

The scale and suddenness of today's onslaught boggles the mind,
And perhaps, desensitize the time,
Nevertheless, while news coverage is voluminous with a lot of people damning their life, to see if they will really be drive,
Notwithstanding, they're making a slime.
I develope the strength of living life,
Through many circumstances which engulf my mind...

There in the windy cloud,
Is nothing but the Windy grace of liming light:
Eyes can see, ear can hear, but the strength and hope Is the Mind.

Many attempts trying to shorten my life, I turn to tell them that is not what God have assign.
My footprint is always design
To explore but never to relax.
My wings are made to be in the throne of air,
So I could be floating like Angels on high, without receiving bribe.

Centuries ago people lies
That is gonna be fine,
But look at me smiling alive,
Causing pain to an unbelievable eyes,
Only to see their mouth open wide,
I'm sorry, I need a purification of Godly life.

This is how I chase most my enemy with rhyming lines.

When the voice of the side talk was singing in bass, beckoning many words of weakening strike,
I stood up with faith to clear their doubt...
My been on the lowest surface doesn't mean I can't fly
When you both know I have wings given by the Most High.....l have the Eagle Mind To Fly High.

Recession of evil
The people develope the feels on the earth now
For my dimensional
Circumvention of real...
Like the earth round...
And im a circle it...
I'm certainly down



But further in the reaches of a terminal bond...
We die together forever.. the vision of mercy streak blonde
Lives on... after the sheets are washed
And the feelings are gone...
I'm not really a blonde.
Bleach is a compound beneath
Titanium iron and adamantium claws...
*** im tight ain't um ironic like a mutant with no memory..
An inventory... of perpetual healing
The scars. But never revealing feelings at all..
Like does marvel get more complex. Or does wolverine. Got the pain
Of seeing it all... and not feeling at all...
No human being could be beaten this bad for so long.

On the prowl for a persistent thought
Evading shady spots.
Graves of gablehouse vacation names
On rocks... sunshine take your shot
And pick your plot...
I'm not picky. For the friction.
But your existence. Is the vision I want.... *** your friction is
A different condition
Of hot...
Like slim Jim's and grocery tellers...
A carbon calorie over load...
And a million wishes
For the tip you give to the teller...
Like pictures of the develope
Only make smoke in the cellar....
Give it to me and I'll give
You it better..
Forever... penniless..  and focused together...
Here's my hope for whatever...
Wrote this note with
A smoke left. And a hope of forever...
Broke in the smoking cellar
But growing to heaven.
But its oh no im slowly broken
In absence of your
Devotion and pleasure...
Hope we grow old together

Difficult times.
Like im running this treadmill.
Destination climb.
Wrong intentions.
But I write with a pencil.
Right brain mental.
Left with directions of devils.
Down with the rythym
But I left it up
To my head to
Develope  my level

Gravity is immense.
Still im
suspended in weightlessness...
Unfriended the image of God
Because you don't
Like this realm in the way it is......
I trust in benevolence.
But develope some pity
For rapists. Mercenaries and Satanists...
Its love that echoes. Eternal shapes.
In the motherly keep.
Of a weightless opaque tinge. Of vacant spaces and emptyness
Creation swirling in majesty
Till human travesty.
Tragically came from space...
And trashed up. And ran with
Hate ful ness
And created racism.
Slavery.. corporations
And ceo benefits
And brainwashed through screens.
Instead of educating
On how to change the ****** way it is
Its time to man up
And ask his grace....
Every man in existence what day is it
Can you answer. Your destiny.
When the damage is wasting
Half of this place at a rabbit pace
With weapons. Disaster.
Gravitate. To a sadness shape...
But **** it lets go to ahappy place...
I gotta get rid of
This devils dance. Its a habit I have to break...
Say **** it for habits sake.

Omission in story telling
Warning the little kids...
I'm surviving
Made of several precious instruments
Surviving weather.
Whether its incredible sky's
Life threatening.
Death in the skys...
Or meh whatever its fine. Well weather it
Well weather our life....
And strive like.
Together weaving a better life
It gets better in time
Sands of time for past sake
left in memory's mind
Evolving into potentially
Theres only telling with time
Thats how you develope a mind...
Present tense the only gift
That will ever be mine...
So build for tomorrow
And don't fret whats left in
The past tense.
Hence you accepted it
And left it behind
Sight is only vision for the
Present memory of life...
And that gets me
Every time.....
Like a wine gets better with time...

Transgender is my label.
Its remembering anatomy
While managing
Identity
Freed collaterally
Exchange of parts
For sanity.
I'm a be so genius
You'll give props although your mad at me.
Has to be.
Sandwich meat.
Shred like lettuce. Going ham
Cheesy dance scenes.
In a single plastic packaging.
Trans queen.
In a grand scheme.
While I demand equality.
For every one.
There ever was.
Forever ***.
We better love
Each other and develope love
Through touch. Hugs. Vibes
Smiles and better trust.
Wild **** my smile up
In the center of.
Your memory.
To remember me
Forever ***.
I get your love
And never run
Even till the death of love
And the devil comes.
**** that I'll single handedly mask up.
And sacrifice my eyes taking blindness
Over  feeling death in heart.
That tyrant. Deceptive ****.
Can leverage none.
He better come.
God has me under love.
I'll be under trust.
And safe as banks. And corporations
When the end of days
Come undone.