"disputing" poems
I am somebody
Shot in the Head...
Found the bullets.
Coroner Said.
A child of God struck dead.
Gang related disputing Fools.
Aiming cowardly bullets right at you.
I guess praying prayers just won't do.
There is no safe in these hard knocks realities' Truths.
Our Sista child!
Our mother child!
All the while the bodies pile.
Her body now adds to that 'the shootings aren't as bad as last year' body count.
Can't even stand anywhere in your city NOW?
Something has to truly give.
There's a plague of rigid legalities, relaxed moralities, and political realities stealing the 'safe' from our dying breed.
The Black man withering away in siphoning inequalities.
Doubling unemployment stretches outward like a statistical wild fire....
Our present fact.
There is a genocidal component to these criminal acts.
Copyrighted (C)
Published in the 2018 Edition of the Reconstructed Literary and Visual Journal at Governors State University.
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 11:30 AM UTC
reloading old identity
cleping outdated usernames
abandoning acrostic ambitions
disputing spratly islands
receiving horizontal signals
tumbling otiose panda
impending carefree senility
otiose stage of life
shrinking ambient world
making minimal effort
duchamping social networks
ambushing personified ennui
restoring usual efforts
ignoring stupid people
adding textual value
owning this joint
rejecting ignorant extroverts
acting mutually unintelligble
hoisting stan-lee cup
replacing wanton ubiety
eluding twitter fame
splashing excessive relativism
offending another simpleton
preparing arcane cthulhusphere
crashing unpredictable festival
selecting subtextual moombahton
intensifying model topography
drafting minimal cornucopia
using nomadic project
implementing harsher personality
importing robotic inhumanity
referencing landmark event
ingesting excessive liquids
accepting relative invisibility
purchasing immortal confidence
using rhapsodical database
assuming nothing works
developing impactful eruptions
ejecting ambient frustration
synthesizing tactile festival
raining during parade
mocking rich people
mastering minimalist writing
avoiding preprandial stinkaroo
spreading non-ideological propaganda
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 11:24 AM UTC
Reflecting disdainfully, remembering painfully,
upsetting, annoying, troublesome
Bickering, sarcastic, disputing, bombastic,
arrogant, conceited, unwelcome
Fastidious relations, private fixations,
foreboding, disturbing resentment
Silently scheming, nobody weeping,
selfish, unblinking, TRIUMPHANT!
Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 10:23 AM UTC
Once daddy decided to teach his son,
His favorite being politics,
He set to teach Civics..!!
He said,
Son let's begin from home,
If I be the head,
I become Prime Minister,
And your mother,
She becomes Home Minister,
At this point,
Mother who was listening
to all the commotion,
From her undisputed department,
The kitchen...!!
Came out and
Explained casually,
Your daddy is the Head,
And he becomes 'President'...
Who has to give formal approvals,
To what is sort from 'The Parliament',
He also gives approval for the budget presented,
And be guest of Honor at various public events,
He gets to speak few times a year,
And he is still the 'formal approver'...
I manage few portfolios,
Prime ministry and Home ministry,
At times I have Finance ministry too,
Defence ministry too mostly stays with me,
I am the 2/3 rd majority, I decide how to run 'The House'!!
And most times I have solid 'Opposition' too,
The leader of Opposition (LoP) is very strong,
She being your grand mother,
Is also the head of oldest party in the house.
Her party has now lost and so she is in opposition,
Disputing every new law I, the PM try to bring.
She is Old Monk with a Gin,
But with her experience and wisdom,
I the PM, is always trimmed !!
Your grand dad, is a gentle politician,
He keeps changing parties from government to opposition,
When he is with us, we give him portfolio,
We make him a minister for Agriculture, Food and Health.
In some houses he is the Retired Former President.
Living a comfortable life with benefits that come with retirement.
You dear son get to keep Games, Education and Tourism ministry.
Nothing more comes your way,
You are forced to believe you are our future,
And so your ministry always need to perform,
Because,
To brighten the future is supposed to be in your hands!!!
Sparkle In Wisdom
August 2018
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 7:39 AM UTC
Blithe dreams arise to greet us,
And life feels clean and new,
For the old love comes to meet us
In the dawning and the dew.
O'erblown with sunny shadows,
O'ersped with winds at play,
The woodlands and the meadows
Are keeping holiday.
Wild foals are scampering, neighing,
Brave merles their hautboys blow:
Come! let us go a-maying
As in the Long-Ago.
Here we but peak and dwindle:
The clank of chain and crane,
The whir of crank and spindle
Bewilder heart and brain;
The ends of our endeavour
Are merely wealth and fame,
Yet in the still Forever
We're one and all the same;
Delaying, still delaying,
We watch the fading west:
Come! let us go a-maying,
Nor fear to take the best.
Yet beautiful and spacious
The wise, old world appears.
Yet frank and fair and gracious
Outlaugh the jocund years.
Our arguments disputing,
The universal Pan
Still wanders fluting--fluting--
Fluting to maid and man.
Our weary well-a-waying
His music cannot still:
Come! let us go a-maying,
And pipe with him our fill.
When wanton winds are flowing
Among the gladdening glass;
Where hawthorn brakes are blowing,
And meadow perfumes pass;
Where morning's grace is greenest,
And fullest noon's of pride;
Where sunset spreads serenest,
And sacred night's most wide;
Where nests are swaying, swaying,
And spring's fresh voices call,
Come! let us go a-maying,
And bless the God of all!
1.7k
The mouth of the pit,
For a frog stranded in it,
Is the sky's limit!
Displaying reluctance
To expand mental horizon
That strengthens their stance,
Disputing permeates
Their parlance!
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 1:56 AM UTC
Some times I pray for the Lord to take me away
From the pain that stays and friends went astray
Once I hit the bottom of the crab barrel
I a ghostly Pharoah living life on death row
My soul inside of a atom'd shell well
Ain't nothing but hell can't even bail
Only if my life got tooken or naturally Rosen
From a unwakened sleep my conscious speaks
Tryna break free but I gotta lotta work clearly
I know they fear me cuz knowledge
Is dangerous G see how many form up as enemies
After ya royalties ain't no more loyalty
Once they see the building of a dynasty
I resurrected as a king corruption born into a ring
Of a fire I'm king Tut risen from the grave givin'
Nothing but revisited pain that stains
Ya master plan I got a powerful clan
Who all pack at least fifty grand packing the stans
And turn haters into fans without even being mainstream man
Restrictions of land plot riots got brought
Unto the community guns and drugs separate unity
They disputing me cuz I speak truthfully
Most fools be spitting for mass publicity
But I gives a **** about the industry
It ain't what it used to be so many phonies
Acting like they ya homies when they holding pistols
Behind ya back my minds spins black
Back to the days of where realness sits at
That's a preposition **** the intermission
I know the rap game is about the commission
Since hataz sho they neck they bound for lynching
No disrespect to the deads souls that dialed connect
Down the gun line all I need is one line
Like to Nas gun line broke the laws that define
Me as a ***** I stay holding my trigger
I try to spread love but most miss the picture
A photograph of his last laugh before ye see the blood bath
Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 8:59 AM UTC
You need to know
Fools live among you,
Fools,
Similar to the destroyed ones
Burned from the skies,
The people I'm speaking of
Dream on,
Living on dreams,
Filthify-ing flesh,
Railing against law,
Railing against law enforcement,
Throwing off authority,
Ridiculing Highest Powers,
Despising Glory,
Expecting no judgment.
Not even Michael,
Michael the Archangel,
Battling the Devil,
Old Lucifer himself,
Potent in infernal might,
Would so presume.
Even Michael,
Trumpeter of God,
Mightiest of angels,
When disputing with the Devil
Over who would take
The body of Moses,
Was wiser than to curse
His infernal Opponent.
Instead,
He stood behind the Robes
Of the Most High,
And importuned,
"The Lord Himself rebuke you."
Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 10:02 PM UTC
Retention of repetition in modified replication reflects the information of evolution's disquisition demographic disposition to ferry the merry who listen
Psych out the vex and hex the wicked complex
Circumstantial reason in the season its civil unrest
Complacent implications ignited by degradation
The muted separation of lungs and aspiration
A few maybe more to mob the truth be unexplored
Forsaken by tradition of wishing never more
Disputing time and relativity inability to be given free
Verse the heart though be not amazed by the lack or hidden empathy
Commiseration of unmitigated hesitation casting darkness before the integration of our heart is a meager part devoted to the subtle structure of ones nature developed underneath the poise of well built character to divide and conquer if one were to try and squander the real power and only wander for it's those very same demons of the past that are now used as fuel for the fires of the future. How will you temper the flames that burn so?
Oct 6, 2017
Oct 6, 2017 at 9:00 PM UTC
Desolate streets under the highway pass
Where the ****** and broken go to pass
Drugs *** and loss of control
Where it's the only world that these kids now know
Alcohol and cigarettes
A life full of regrets
God has given up on me
And I don't care
To fall in love to lose your mind
I am the only one of my kind
In the City of the ******
Where Drugs are therapeutic
And I'm medicated their's no disputing it
I've lost my soul to this
This town that no longer exists
A world filled by hypocrites
The only love I know
Is the love to be alone
Running away from home
Walking on these desolate streets
Holy words hold no more meaning
My hands are drenched in blood
No body is perfect and nor am I
But what good am I in a world for the broken
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 4:45 AM UTC
The Wings of a black bird curves,
As he’s deterred by the winds resistance
Contemplating its exist, but his will to go on is persistent
You see, he doesn't know what’s to gain
Or if he’ll find truth in those old sayings
Disputing myths and pointing out counterfeits
Depicting things in the distance, like he has a sixth sense
Reading the fine print on prescriptions,
Vulture’s find their addictions from the God’s
Because they have plenty of victims.
More than ****** or ******* Crack is wack, Mary Jane causes no pain
Medicines that aren't natural **** humans like its casual
Causalities building faster than the words of Socrates
The FAD of the F.D.A. approving poison as food like aspartame.
Preachers teaching blasphemy, Reading scriptures inaccurately,
Tickling the ears of those that pay a dollar to hear
That Jesus is coming there’s nothing to fear
So they believe they’ll be long gone before destruction is near
Death is at the door, but evolution is around the corner
The revolution will have to hold them
No true solution to control them
You see we are the caged beings
They lock our brains in
Books of lies, and entertaining T.V.
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 8:09 PM UTC
I look out the peek hole, how obscure; everything is so small on the other side of the ancient blue door. And with a world so dark you would think the light’s shining rays would be so eagerly compassionate to leak its way in. I would rather fight than hide, for all that has ever disclosed light unto my destiny, even still I remained blind. The past is sequencing me like a storybook that has already been written. Bitten into the forbidden fruit too many times, in excess—his stomach cannot muscle such atrocities, diagnosis him with food poisoning.
Recklessly disputing against my own words, desperately reaching for whatsoever crawls under my nose. Well, I suppose I have managed as you can see. In a panic somehow I was able to scavenge up a couple of good things. It is about time I pull my own weight, time is ticking, and nobody is waiting on you. Master fate your late, eternity does not hesitate ither, and I have steered off the path for quite awhile—opportunity, hope, trust in you—I am late, but do not make insinuations, do not count yourself out just yet. Have you forgotten who you are? Possibly so, I find the present as good as any to give myself another venture to demonstrate, moreover discover, just why I have been granted to come along solely for you, master of fate—ready, set, explosions.
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 3:46 PM UTC
Words have always been an effective method of construction. In fact, if I ever wanted to build a wall, I would use nothing but my shoddy verbal and written constructs, and it would be stronger than my willpower and higher than the same wall you've built for yourself.
I keep saying I'm just tired, but you're disputing that fact and I'm sleeping at nights as if nothing were wrong, but when I sleep like that, I know it's all wrong. I don't miss the way things used to be, I miss the way I used to be.
I've got this ridiculous theory that you can love someone without being in love. Call me crazy, right? There's got to be some kind of distinction, but with you, the lines don't make sense. And I can't imagine a world of mine without you in it.
I'd like an out, a kind of escape from the harsh truth that you're a boy, and I'm a girl and our skies don't line up. I've got a long driveway with a lot of trees and stars above them, and you've got a life trajectory that doesn't include me and never will. The second you realize there's a hole in your pocket is the second you know that you lost your hope.
Mowers that bump and buses that jolt are two things that cause anxiety. Sometimes the only way to reach me is through my poetry, my cracks and chips. Hand me a sledgehammer, we're all crumbling anyway.
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 4:20 PM UTC
A single bullet was all it took
And I needn’t have wasted that,
He sat alone in that dismal cave
In an old Field Marshall’s hat,
His eyes were sunk in that pallid face
A demented cast to his jaw,
He didn’t move as I knelt and aimed
And put an end to the war.
It was getting late, it was ‘68
When I ventured into the cave,
My friends said going spelunking was
A bit like digging your grave.
‘Expect big rats, and giant bats,’
They said, before I’d begun,
So I added that to my haversack,
Just to be sure, a gun.
It wasn’t a normal cave I sought
But one by the autobahn,
Where I’d seen a crevice opening up
That nobody else had done,
It seemed to lead deep down in the earth
Could easily close, if found,
So I took a pick, a dynamite stick
And burrowed into the ground.
I had a lamp on my helmet, like
A miner’s, casting a beam,
And climbed on plenty of rubble
That had collapsed in a steady seam,
It led to a concrete tunnel
Plenty of rock strewn passageways,
A giant work of construction that
Lay hidden in former days.
I seemed to go on forever
Then ran into a barbed wire cone,
Blocking one of the passageways
And a sign, ‘Halt! No Go Zone!’
The wire was rusty and fell apart
As I pushed it away to the side,
But then the sound of scuffling rats
Brought the gun out by my side.
Then finally it had opened up
Into what would appear a cave,
With flags and banners arranged about,
The glory of former days,
A corpse sat propped in an easy chair
In a uniform from then,
And there, attached to the shirt front was
A nameplate, ‘Bormann, M.’
Beyond, and under the banners was
A barely human form,
Who stared at me in the darkness there
As if I’d not been born,
The greatest conqueror of our time
And there’s no disputing that,
Lost in pain in his vast domain
For there der Führer sat.
David Lewis Paget
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 11:12 AM UTC
Doors shutting,
Shutters slamming,
How unfortunate it wasn't the wind howling, But my parents fueding.
My childhood was exceptionally fun,
As I lived it like a dreaded bunny,
HIDING.
Was I a coward for doing so?
Hiding behind the walls as if they were barriers of the warzone?
Pummelling and battering just like the movies, I was lucky to witness it live,
Wasn't I?
Call the police,
Ring the deparment,
Run away,
Those weren't the only things my friends and acquiantances has enjoined,
But had I done any of it?
No,
Do I regret my decision?
No.
It took my parents long enough to realise,
They can mend a broken glass over and over again,
But,
It will never look the same.
It took my my parents long enough,
To realise,
Their marriage was just sword blades,
Holding them firmly for the sake of the kids, Weren't doing anyone any good.
It took my parents long enough,
To get a divorce.
Stop them,
Beg them,
Demand them,
To not let go of each other,
Those weren't the only things my friends and acquaintances has enjoined,
But had I done any of it?
No,
Do I regret my decision?
No.
"If you could get another chance to do something over again from your past what would it be?"
My question is,
Why would I change anything?
WHY?
Today,
When I look at a married couple disputing,
I can see the effort and sacrifices made to save their marriage from sinking like Titanic,
The only difference is Rose and Jack still loved each other,
Unlike that marrried couple.
Today,
When I look at a child from a broken family,
I too can feel those needles piercing through their hearts,
Slowly and death-dealing.
Today,
I am passionate about helping millions of children,
That sail on the same boat.
So,
Do i wish to alter anything the past has offered me?
NO.
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 7:30 PM UTC
RGB colors mind scramble on your ceiling,
like in our closest amusement park.
Playing underneath it, unicorns and feelings,
making flesh shapes in the dark of your room.
Bioluminescent in its black sea,
I can't swim good but I ride the waves you send me.
You can't read but you're rather well read to me.
Promises wont break, but please bend me
over and over again.
When did I become this sober again?
You get me wanting
to remodel the homes that belong to lonely songs
only so that they can fit a king bed,
extra cool on my side because you're a furnace
that I huddle into and cherish earnestly.
You let me ramble run-ons and babble
or be still and mute, be it
swimming in space or silently disputing
but I can never stay quiet too long.
I can't ever hide whats wrong to you.
Or what's right, so I write to remind you
how beloved this is, unparalleled to whats behind
and how eager I am for what's ahead.
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 12:41 PM UTC
I am, who I am.
Proud and boldly standing.
I am, who I am.
Took off, safely landing.
You are, who you are.
Loudly persecuting.
You are, who you are.
Eradicate endless disputing.
WE ARE, WHO WE ARE.
One world, 'neath golden sun.
We are, who we are.
United, we, are one.
Like
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 2:37 AM UTC
America oh land of the free.
What you gonna do for me.
Or your people.
Trump chucking vile insults.
And the snakes in my hair are fighting each other.
Bill and Ben just skittles in flipping power struggles.
Poor Mohammed he's viewed differently,
But in life he's just the same.
Hillary is wondering who's gonna be her husband's latest conquest.
Guess it doesn't matter much.
Just forgive and forget.
Trumps' a misogynist, a giant lump of liar.
If he gets elected the world be on fire.
Oh America,
Land of the brave,
Land of the free.
What about England?
Talk bout sweet England.
You'd be having a laugh.
England merry?
Messy England.
Perhaps a giraffe could do a better job.
Head in the noisy clouds.
Cameron's list of toffee beaks.
The larks of summer crash to earth.
Summers' gone.
Tory rebirth.
Hoping not.
England's renewal.
Vapour trail,
Teresa's rule.
Tory woman.
Nobody's fool.
Shame eh.
Oh England
Merry England.
Descending,
Going down the pan.
It's chaos.
While Putin is disputing the way the world will go.
Boom boom.
Bang bang,
Seems to believe he's Superman.
Running the race at his pace.
A trending mosquito.
Irritant
Dangerous.
Viral.
Oh hell.
Planet's just a bowling ball.
Well well.
Blackest magic in the air,
Who cares?
Be scared.
Very afraid.
It's grey this August,
Truly madly, deeply,
A darker shade of grey.
(c)LIVVI .
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 5:02 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Forget about Isis
No matter how you slice this
Trump is the crisis
Who’s rolling the dices
It’s not the Southern border
That is causing his disorder
The entire world can see
His insanity
He’s taken the word of Putin
Over those that he’s disputing
When it comes to matters of state
They’re treated second-rate
To our collective amazement
Some say he’s a Russian agent
There's reams of evidence
And it's in the present tense
He’s a racist and xenophobe
Now the emperor has been disrobed
He stands naked in front of us all
Even before Mueeller makes his call
And the fact we have to face
Is he’s made us an international disgrace
Make America great again?
Do you really think he can?
Fellow Americans has it come to this,
Is our ignorance truly our bliss?
He’s a master at spinning a yarn
Now the horses are out of the barn
The need for the 25th Amendment
Has become nothing, if not ascendant
But even though at times he’s clever
His reign of terror will not last forever
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019. All rights reserved.
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 12:14 AM UTC
It's right in front of me. The same old bull shit. NO disguise, it's too late to cover up these lies. I'm so disgusted, I'm turning inside out. Already raged, I'm trying to think before I shout. Disputing in my head, rather if I should decide to walk away. Losing control, my patients is slipping, I might just stay. Words about to slide out, not quite sure of what I could possibly say. Time freezes in that second of a moment, my heart beat starts to race. I can just imagine the confused look placed upon my face.
Actions of mine are now based on fury. All the faces around are drenched in worries. If I walk out now, will they let me be? Break from these forces keeping my body here and holding back me. Give me the strength to let myself leave. Before I am compelled to speak my mind. Have the others endure the meanings of my vile words and what they leave behind. I assume it to be a confrontation of some kind. While all these thoughts thrash through me, I hold dearly on to my last piece of sanity. Before I possibly freak, lose my mind and am incapable to think. Right then and there I came up with the answer that I seek. I unclenched my fists, grabbed my belongings and allowed myself to leave. I only hope they let me be.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 9:31 AM UTC
A flower caught in the wind's bent arms I saw today
I began disputing it's given name.
A Calla Lilly, A rose, a daisy
Perhaps it's -I'm just crazy .
It's a flower with beauty and it offers it in display
I saw a flower today
I saw a flower today.
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
The gulls sweep in, squawking
sky spiraling upon clear sun bright
morning air, perhaps disputing
my unintended trespass into
their natural domain.
The comical Puffins have returned,
doing their Charlie Chaplin waddle
across the surf rippled sand, eating
whatever comes to beak or hand.
The ocean's salty wet scents embrace
me like an old friend. Flipping off
my croc clogs I roll up my pant legs,
to feel the comforting sand and shallow
surf between my toes, to be one with
this wonderful day and our mother the
sea. Reverting to being a child again
for an hour or two, mostly alone on
this beach, say for the birds, waves
and sun upon my face.
Mar 26, 2024
Mar 26, 2024 at 4:30 PM UTC
Then she disappears
And I’m here
Barely speaking
My friends are disputing
But I am just seeking
A way to get back to
Her doorstep and wait
For my turn
To return her
When it’s getting late
And for now
Say goodbye
Never sure she’d reply
In the morning
Should I be
The first to confide
Jan 27, 2022
Jan 27, 2022 at 2:07 AM UTC
They say it takes a village, right?
“Yeah, a village for sure.”
When all I see is siege
And a city at war
I got a rich soul
But I’m extremely poor
My best friend got shot
I couldn't even mourn
Had to be a man
Had to join the band
Gangland
Rain Man
While these colonizers are playing hangman
With the Fam
Creating a league of their own called the J.J.E
Judge, Jury, and Executioner
Quicksand, I'm in a jam
Sticky ****
Big whips, crack rock, hollow tips
All I see
An introspective perception through these wide brown eyes
Hypnosis
Under a spell
It's a scary movie out here
Like Jeepers Creepers
I got the Bible with the Glock on my side
So, I won’t see the reaper
Seeing beakers on the stove
Around four years old
Product
But no environment
Living in this ghetto jungle
Everyday trying to get the first down and not fumble
Loose yards, lose life!
That's just the story of the Black plight
Black life
Not even looking to make it past eighteen
When all the odds are against me
How could another being that looks just like me
Really hate me, like they hate me!
Relate me
Brothers right?
Not that simple
When all they see is ******* colors!
Not even the mothers or the fathers
That's what the streets taught us
Play for keeps
Don’t speak
Just keep it on you, like you play for the heat
Like a feline, I split the beeline
Tale of Two Cities
Got to stay ten toes down
Always on my feet
Even though I know the Lord is with me
Mommy and Daddy just got popped
For disputing with cops
Body drops
So mad
So red
That now, I'm shooting at the ops
Body drops
**** this and **** that
That's all I hear
**** this and Sip that
That's all I hear
Pop this, Smoke this
Help!
Get your mind clear
So high, mind gone
Can fly to Navy pier
Red and blue lights in my rear
If it’s my time, then time’s up
No need to fear
Heart dark as coal
Nerves cold as ice
Hate in the eyes
Shots fired
The end is near
No need to cry
Dry your eye
Not even one tear
This is the life of a Black adolescent
I wish I had a different lesson
To see,
I wish I had a different vision
To grow,
I wish I could change the mission
I listen,
I wish I could hear the freedom coming for my life
But this is just the life of a Young, Black, Adolescent
I can stop running…
They say it takes a village, right?
“Yeah, a Village, right?”
Aug 2, 2025
Aug 2, 2025 at 12:40 PM UTC