"effecting" poems
*the state or quality of being elastic.
flexibility; resilience; adaptability: a statement with a great elasticity of meaning.
buoyancy; ability to resist or overcome depression.
Physics. the property of a substance that enables it to change its length, volume, or shape in direct response to a force effecting such a change and to recover its original form upon the removal of the force.*
are you ready?
here it comes!
Slap!
having slapped you
with, to kind attention,
you may now recover
your original form,
when there was
no grief, no distress,
the great clarity
of eying the day's birth,
sweetly and innocently.
once again, you are
buoyant,
molecules of polluted memories,
erased.
wind scattered, gone,
blackboard erased,
whiteboard replaced.
you have been reminded,
even reprimanded,
for forgetting your
elasticity.
life, what ever that be,
is constant motion,
a reshaping of the heart,
for the heart has
no unique shape.
it's adaptation,
it's elasticity,
it's genetic forgive and forget ability,
is legend, is you,
you are legend,
You are elastic.
the human hallmark impressed
in the palms of your hands,
that cannot be erased
by time, fatigue, failure, or anger,
the hands that mold,
re-form for every need,
for every handhold,
for different are:
The hands that open closed fists
The hands that wave hi
The hands that are first to touch
and the last to leave,
waving goodbye,
elastic - tender when tender needed,
strong when strength essences.
so be elastic,
remember to be
ecstatic
remember
when you do,
you need show proofs.
Prove it to me.
Prove it to yourself.
shake, kiss, dare hug,
the one who needs reminding
that life is elastic,
even more than you.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 5:07 AM UTC
You did it again
You got in trouble
Because you were desperate
5 years clean
Your streak is now broken
You couldn't stay off the ***
Now you're effecting me
Him
Us
You said you could do it this time
You could be a good mother to him
You ******* up with the first 2
But this one was supposed to be different
You were supposed to do it right
5 years clean
You were 5 years clean
You have a history
You realize that right?
And because you're a liar
Because you're unsafe
Because you're a thief
Because you're a criminal
I can't trust you
And I don't know
If I ever will
Now all your actions
Are coming back to haunt you
But its not just effecting you this time
They effect me
And him
And this is it
Whatever that judge says
Is going to change everything
He may be your son
But my brother
And I'm not going to let you
Ruin his life
I don't want him to grow up
The way I did
Different houses
Different people
Never knowing where you were
And then finding out
Your behind those bars again
Because you were desperate
They may be watching you
But so am I
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 12:57 PM UTC
I don't know what to do,
It's like I've lost myself while trying to find you.
It's like you make me suffer so much
But you run free without a care.
To you it should seems like I'm just fine.
What if I told you I was dying inside?
Would you care or would you hate me.
Well I hate me for liking you.
I feel guilty because I'm hanging on to nothing.
You don't want me but I'm carrying my same old thoughts.
I feel bad for you because I love you,
Meanwhile you don't want me to.
I'm such a bad friend for liking you,
Because you just want to be friends.
I still feel like drowning.
This is just another of poems out of many.
About you.
There's so ****** many about you,
Yet you might not have a clue.
You couldn't know,
You couldn't imagine,
How much this is effecting me.
And now I actually sometimes try,
To get you off my mind.
I don't want to see you and ruin your moment,
Because of the fact your aware of me liking you.
Then I think what if this never happened.
What if you just said yes?
Then I sure as hell wouldn't be stuck here feeling like this.
No, I don't hate you.
You can't control who you love,
And I know that more than anyone.
I hate that I love you.
Because I shouldn't so it feels like betrayal.
So I'm sorry but I can't stop.
I haven't wanted to stop but now I think I want it to.
Never the less I have no choice.
I just have to sit here with you tearing me to shreds.
You don't know.
But if you did,
I wouldn't be able to come within a mile of you.
Because I'm sorry, so sorry.
Do you know what it feels like though?
To love someone without a chance,
And for so long but not being given the same type of glance.
So there's pathetic and then there's me.
More rather they're the same thing.
I don't know what to do apart from listen to depressing love songs.
Ones that I can't relate to because they've actually been in love.
They've had a relationship.
All I've had is this stupid crush,
But somehow it still hurts so much.
So I sing the lyrics and want to cry,
But no matter how loud,
You don't hear me.
Because I'm not singing to you and I don't want you to know.
There's nothing you could do.
You don't love me and you can't.
You won't.
But for goodness sake this hurts too much!
I try to live my life but I can't.
Which is because I'm thinking of you.
Everything right now just makes me want to scream.
There's no way around it,
Because you'll never love me.
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 1:38 PM UTC
some days I watch those tv shows or movies that have some cute but sappy love story in it. I always think to myself, I wish that could happen to me. for my relationships to be perfect. I realized relationships arent perfect at all! everyeone argues, and disagrees. everyone has some issue, but usually couples are able to fix that. there is always the "i guess it was meant to be" or " theres other fish in the sea" I feel like I have said those lines way too much for a 14 year old. I think back at all my relationships and even though I say I regret some, i shouldnt because at the time that person made me feel happy, special, and just made me feel good. I think back at my relationships and they were horrible. They were horrible because of me. I was the problem. The horrible problem. Im not pretty enough. Not skinny enough. Dont talk that much. Well sorry I have acne, like to eat and very shy. Im trying to work on those things and I guess no one is able to see that. I think about my past relationships and go through them one by one. part by part. to see why it ended, why that person couldnt be my soul mate. some were that we hardly talked, it was awkward, he liked other(better) girls, I just wasnt good enough. Most of them was my fault. I've been through the dumbest relationship problems, and now its effecting me. now it is really getting to me, and I truly wish I could go back in the past to fix everything. To fix my broken heart. To not put it out there so much so it could get hurt. I think about my relationships in the past and then I look back at that one. The only one who I liked through everything. who never left my side either we were together or best friends. the one who had issues himself but still put me first. who made me feel like a better person, and the most beautiful. the one i trusted the most and couldnt live without. where is he now? he is off, doing his own thing, moved on. why do i still think about him? because I love him. i love him so much, no matter what. He knows. Nothing has happened for about a year now, and Im guessing nothing else will. He'll be over at his school, dealing with his own problems, with his best friend. Me at my own school, trying to deal with everything happening around me.Now because all of these dumb relationships, I just try to find someone who doesnt care about all of that and just likes me now. doesnt like me for love and relationship, but likes me for what i do. I can flirt, talk and kiss him all he wants. both of us missing two different people and since we're not able to see them we just use each other for what we want. I hate to say it. to say that im friends with benefits with someone, but its just come to that. i hate to acknoledge it. to acknowledge that my first love has moved on, and im just here, slowly getting away.
Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 11:12 PM UTC
To kiss someone's lips
Or grab them by the hips
One must enlist
In the power dynamic
Inside every relationship
There are surprises
Of different disguises
I must ignore the lies of
Reachers and settlers
Stalkers and meddlers
Those who are aloof
And those who are goofs
The process never foolproof
When animals hide their hooves
I took that dubious bet
I thought it'd be fun
A game of Russian roulette
With a fully loaded gun
There were unfair rules set
That's how you won
A one hundred percent threat
I'd be hurt a ton
It started effecting my health
When I couldn't be myself
Because my self emulation
Amounted to self immolation
So I sought your consultation
For the vacation
Of placation
But you took advantage
At least from my vantage
I could see your rampage
Straight from the Stone Age
Like a time traveling mage
That summoned a cage
There was a pattern
We kept going around
Like the rings of Saturn
Until I hit the ground
You made me foolishly wait to test me
And then hated when things got messy
Now you claim that you're a blessing
For what you do after **********
You must be jesting
Confidence cresting
Never confessing
Or addressing
The emotional underbelly
You just like to undersell me
Saying that I'm underwhelming
I'm talking to a tundra telling me
That it makes me a better me
Apologizing not part of your plan
You tell me you don't understand
You must think I'm stupid
To treat me so putrid
My patience you've used it
So the dead weight loosened
Once I let go of your noose hand
You come back begging
You incorrectly pegged me
As forgiving not petty
I guess you never met me
Or at least said goodbye to the best me
After never acting on the behest of me
And making me think less of me
You've become a pest to me
Not part of my destiny
Just part of the generic sea
Of those I let be
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 3:23 PM UTC
when I go
it will be
impossibly late
and I’ll leave you
not multi-talented bars
or pairs of randy ingots
itching to procreate
in a splendid explosion
of golden delight
what I’ll leave you is
a stale-air larder
filled just this once
by dully packaged thoughts
and duller feelings
when I have them
they could only couple
if enlivened with musical prodding
or the sigh effecting benefits
from hands full of mood-altering
pharmaceuticals
so please yourself instead
and don’t
put them to any use
bury them deep
better yet
pile them high on Pyrrhic pyres
where the gathering scorch will send
down leaden puddles
while precious platinum curls rise
up to trickle trickster tears
my greatest possible reward
Sep 3, 2010
Sep 3, 2010 at 8:54 AM UTC
It is easy to detect
detection of the rules you neglect
neglectful of what you protect
protection of the invisible object
objection to what others select
selection of the list that's checked
checking for a way to connect
connection lost, has an effect
effecting words that were direct
direction lost
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 8:57 AM UTC
Who are you to judge,
does my very existence mean that much
is every breath I take
a very own tragedy for your ******* sake?
Who are you to judge,
everything I do or say
I mean, Society
it just isn't your game to play.
Who are you to judge,
every choice I choose
common' you really think
you have nothing to lose
Who are you to judge,
the very own features of my body
I mean, afterall
doesn't that make me somebody?
People turn their backs
pretending not to care
when really
all they feel is that judgemental stare.
See your not even living
In my eyes
your not even forgiving.
You put people up
and tear them back down
in their own sorrow
people try not to drown
You make lives worse
you hurt everybody
you even make the biggest person
feel like nobody.
You make up stupid rules
and make people reticuled
because being yourself
means being a fool
Oh why do you judge?
the basics of a person
It's not even right
It's wrong and up tight
See you started a war
nobody can shut the judgement door
oh Society can't you see
your effecting everyone,
even me.
Words begin to spread
originality is oh so dead
stereotypes aren't dieing
the **** things are multiplying
You've think you won
and everythings done?
Oh no, see Society I have more to say
just wait,
I'll have MY time and right of day.
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 7:29 PM UTC
Mirrors are a powerful medium for returning energy, just like a medieval message in a bottle.
Wrap me in your desolate womb, oh barren mistress of death.
Do you really need to be sworn in?
Sky above and earth below, feel my raging aphrodisiac amidst this eclipse of tantric rites.
***** my horoscope in this zodiac, and grow beyond this medieval heresy.
Magick is the science or art of effecting change by the conformity of the will; and you are a sacred star in the night sky.
Let us scribe incantations beyond desert horizons where Kali displays her direction of seasons.
Spring is in the East, Summer is in the South, Autumn is in the West and Winter is in the North.
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
This Hell which we reside
is not like the Hells of old
It's something new
It's effecting our heart
and our mind
we're asking so many questions
because it's answers we're trying to find
But like the Hells of old
and the Hells of new
it continues to stand
but like the Berlin wall
one day they will all FALL
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 4:42 PM UTC
For the past few months
Our great nation has experienced great tragedies
But we didn't turn out to be sloths
Though our fates are still bidden
As the brumous weather draws near
A hirareth comes with fear
But the spirit of Christmas gets warmer
The yuletide becomes louder
It's about time to heed this very call
We must stand up for the good of all
It cradles an ambiguous thought
Which the human hear long sought
In this form of literature
I hope to inspire the people of this nation, to understand its nature
And start effecting some changes
To seek out the strangest,
To venture the wilderness of the lost peace & harmony
And restore this country's prosperity
In this season, may we stop all forms of quarrels
For we are no rebels
Of this glorious season
That brings joy to me with a great reason
This Christmas is a grandiose season
Let us stop every kind of treason
Let us set aside all our hard feelings
That has been harboured in our hearts
Let this Christmas be different
Let this be the time when we relent
Let this be the Christmas when we share
Everything that we may share for this season is rare
It's Christmas time
We share not just a dime
Even prayers for our fellowmen
And joy for all men
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 9:16 AM UTC
Sugar nightmares haunt children
Nancy harlequins cane them
Oh, child of mine
your life you did,
away,
sign.
Force fed familiarity with already branded emotions,
irregular realities and clouded surreal formalities,
so very many humans’ form dichotomies
out of our shared mute gray;
spinning constant self-important prose.
So very many humans share so much,
so little,
not often
doing little to soften
all of their emotional blows
trying hard to strike enigmatic pose.
Oh, child of mine
the heart of utilitarian method
has receded in incredulous fashion
followed by authoritarian apologies;
the majority is not icecream people
spreading simple good thought,
but generations fraught
with trivial conformist ideologies.
We are all hiding our seams
with creative masks
and self created tasks.
Oh, child of mine
your prescription reality is revealing itself as Atlantis,
sinking and shuddering into Quaaludes
with frightening psychotic interludes.
Emotions paint
stained lurid faces,
dancing with
ludes effecting movement,
nudes of swaying and repose.
You arose deeming so much rightfully yours
waltzing through seemingly already opened doors.
Holy curb their anti-Christ
Consider your aging soul
Oh, child of mine
Belief of awareness in action
understand the probability of dissatisfaction,
Stop!
treating the moment as a bleak bridge to the next inaction.
Eventually ponderous thoughts form
resembling an orrery,
an incessantly philippic story
orchestrates your oleaginous personality.
Oh, child of mine
Youth flees and your mind
takes once again to the seas,
a vexing penumbra of perception.
Bathos permeates the fathoms of an obstreperous life
and if you still care,
lament that this meaningless congeries
of moments
inspires only delusion,
no disillusionment.
Eventually a lilting threnody
leading 'tween burning pews of proposed serenity
and the following bumping callithump
will firmly stamp you into black infinity.
Oh, child of mine
You've used the switch
too much
too often
coupled with lofty scoffing
giving the innocent up as offering
to the
mechanical engine
of organic creation.
Sep 1, 2010
Sep 1, 2010 at 11:05 AM UTC
Logical doesn’t have taste. It has circumstance. Only to be tasteful, is to be surrounded by a taste of what gradually makes a self importance greater to yourself. Proudly underestimating yourself at first. Giving closure to the surrounding areas. Taste has no boundaries here. A made-up friction. A made-up functionality. A dripping faucet without clarity. Dripping one social taste at any given time. Clarity giving rise to the surrounding areas with logical ingredients. Logical ingredients slapping taste buds without concern for logical praise. Logical praise that doubts it’s understanding of taste buds giving praise to ingredients without concern for how praise will affect it’s priorities. Priorities finishing the diversity of something logical with a taste. The taste buds feeling the diversities finalizing ingredients in their rightful places. Like shiny white plates on display for the crowd of praises effecting one’s own priorities. Teeth whitening the taste buds for greater effect. Praises finally giving the logical praise the taste it deserves. More surrounding areas include a broader crowd. A newer logical taste starts to emerge in the practice of ingredients giving logical praise to the logical priorities that govern it so. Praise from newer surroundings influencing more ingredients in the form of logical taste. More taste buds start feeling the diversities in the praise which salivates the practice of logical assessments. A reverse act giving rise to a simplified logical taste without boundaries.
Oct 27, 2019
Oct 27, 2019 at 9:55 PM UTC
She sings, unites beautiful melody with a naturally melodious language
The end result being how I don't have a clue what she's saying
chanting the mantra given to her
by the bearded sage in the terry cloth bathrobe
who told her "your mind is a vast field where elephants gather to play"
before conferring the mantra
She lets the Sanskrit words roll over her tongue
a vernacular of formidable power
effecting even those who don't speak a word
such was I, Sanskrit illiterate, but the repetition
opened the lotus flower of my heart
the baby blue visage of Sri Krishna materialized
from the words she was singing
I took away his flute and blew a line from an old Jethro Tull song
she thought it enchanting
but Krishna was not happy to see his vaunted woodwind in the hands of a mere mortal
he stepped up to me, polite as can be
he says "if you don't give me my instrument I will be forced to cut off your hands, and then what do you think will happen to this poem?"
I stood my ground, possession being two thirds of the law
I blew the flute solo from Genesis' "The Musical Box" (having known it by heart)
the blue boy asked several times for me to
give him that almighty flute
each time I told him "No! You'll have it soon enough"
apparently not soon enough
(For he felt a pair of garden shears slice firmly through his right hand
the same set of shears severed his left
he dropped his stylus and papyrus to the ground
toppled over, landing smashly with a great crash
within a matter of time he bled out from the stumps where his hands had once been attached
Krishna picked up his flute and said
"what a pity"
and vanished into thin air
it all ended quickly as it had begun
and the sweet lady never stopped chanting her mantra
in fact her back had been turned before Krishna even showed up
it was a great shock to find her gentleman friend's lifeless and handless body on the ground
She shed a tear
I was no less miserable and sad
wished above all else
that I had been a real poet
so I could have finished the man's life work)
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 5:21 PM UTC
She carried them about,
stones in her pockets.
Each one a little secret.
The weight of them
distracting her in conversations.
The bulk of them
effecting her posture.
They would knock
when she would walk.
While she could manage
the slight though ever present
force they exerted
she was perpetually terrified
that one day,
in the midst of some random encounter,
a small hole would
open up
allowing them to tumble out.
They did eventually become too heavy
and the pressure of them
made a space
where
sickness poured in
taking their place.
Stones in the pockets
was not the official diagnosis.
But that's what killed her.
I know
because I watched it.
And I miss her.
That one woman who loved me
unconditionally.
I need her at times
like now.
I carry no stones of my own
and I am not afraid of holes
but
sometimes
we need the kind of love
that has no strings
like when the other kinds
wish to bury us.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 9:02 PM UTC
we all coexist within another.
father time, granting us a constant movement of life
a cloaked, bearded man with the power of an hourglass.
an endless cycle of highs and lows effecting the world
as above so below.
alas, without love, the earth would turn to dust
drawn together, since the beginning of eternity
father time founded mother earth.
intertwined out of chaos, a nurturer was born.
to create out of love,
trees alongside the sea
time never catching up to the speed of light
equality of the unknown, transpiring its purpose to live
granted, the universe aligns in peace
nirvana at its peak
solely, as an individiual
we seek the hidden purpose
beyond ones navigation of life
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 5:38 PM UTC
Part One
We sat on a strange wooden platform
Which hung suspended
From a strange metal structure.
And we kissed in the daylight
With cars passing by.
It struck me then
That I hadn’t kissed anyone in the daylight
With cars passing by
In over two years.
And I’d never before
Kissed anyone in the daylight
With cars passing by
Who identifies as a Marxist.
Or who loves Virginia Woolf.
Or who takes her sandals off to splash in muddy water without prompting and
Without even rolling up her jeans.
Or whose love of life captures her in the same contradictions as mine.
And I haven’t written a love poem
For someone who might also be writing me love poems
In over two years
But this is it.
Here it is.
This is it,
Here it is,
In four days
We will live in separate cities
And then I might not kiss anyone in the daylight
With cars passing by
For two more years
Or two more after that but
Such a possibility strikes me as unlikely.
Not because we can commute but because you showed me
As we hung suspended on a strange wooden platform
Kissing in the daylight
With cars passing by
(As we braved the mosquito bites in that field that night;
As we waded through the creek today
While thunder cracked all around us
And rain poured down right upon us)
That I am someone who someone worth loving
Can find worth loving.
Part Two
Or hang on.
It doesn’t have to be like that.
It doesn’t have to be like kale soup,
Which has been connoted for me as representing the preservation of tradition and community while effecting radical change within the food system.
It can instead be like artichokes
Which I just like
For no ******* reason
Other than that they’re good.
We each got over 40 mosquito bites because,
While we lay in a field under the, like, five stars that decided to show themselves at the peak of the Perseides meteor shower,
We were too busy making out to give a ****
And it was fun.
It was fun, and tonight when we got dinner and you asked me to explain why I liked artichokes so much
We abandoned our tradition of narrative, us English majors, and we decided to study Sociology,
Because sometimes it’s better to look at how things are
Before you even ask yourself why.
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 11:47 PM UTC
Dark Shadows
Not one stood their ground.
Shameful has been their march
If Lincoln could speak he could turn us around.
This war isn’t civil but it is still brother against brother.
Concord Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Antietam.
Battles grim many a life in death’s valley grew dim.
Cannon and saber tested your oaths of allegiance.
Doubts and lies purged what do you give final credence.
The nation weathered the storm because it had a Godly soul.
Mothers and fathers prayed, united they stood.
Sacrifice unto death, freedom unity the goal.
Their blood did consecrate it was the mortal strand that held.
By our fore fathers, God the heathen first knew.
In so little time we are now the heathen.
The heights they claimed, we let the standard drop from view.
We are products of a lost spiritual heritage.
Pride filled cold sophisticated, idolaters all marble stone.
America of yesteryear noted for great achievements, today only pity.
Their triumphs God’s unquestioned glory shone.
In rags we parade laughing bewitched nearing the pit.
Faces do register alarm only to find they only regard money.
They have spiritual highs black magic angel dust the biggest lie.
Forthrightness humility they will never try.
But at the same time their whole lives truth they will decry.
The beauty of our land polluted with the morally dead.
No other battle field has such casualties.
The struggle rages effecting our hearts and head.
Remain silent and the perverse will strangle your very freedom.
Iwo Jima, Corregidor the anthem rang home of the brave land of the free.
Our guide posts were God and country.
To our children we seared their minds with what’s in it for me
Shadows deeply stain the constitution and the bill of rights.
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 3:02 PM UTC
It reeks here.
Pungent yet sweet.
Like.
Accepting an unwanted apology.
Woe to the tragically gracious.
For they know not of rest.
As sharks circle about.
Devouring the essence spewed from an unclosing artery.
Until all that's left.
Is a vacant shell.
Not even worth the effort to finish off.
Gluttonuos beings.
The both.
Unknowingky knowing the need.
Of eachother.
For the cause of such suffering.
Bleeds into the affect given.
Effecting the rest.
Distortion needs no introduction.
A slight.
Handing over the next.
Riddled with more questions.
And even as the last die.
Is cast.
A tear falls.
Probably.
Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 10:11 PM UTC
I want to be cool
Like ice, no, like
Breeze- unattached.
I want to breathe life
Into others’ lives-
Bring them to tears.
Apathy is cool
When you don’t care
To get hurt or pain.
Passion is cool
When you give life
To things through your pain.
Sunshine is cool
And you bring light and
Cast it through the panes.
Cloudiness is cool
And you fog up and
Distort, to question things.
What is not cool
Is effecting nothing;
Then you are nothing.
What is not cool
Is feeling nothing
When no one cool’s around.
Jan 28, 2011
Jan 28, 2011 at 8:13 PM UTC
I am experiencing some Holiday anxiety
It is not over finding the right gift
Not over making a list
Not over cards I need to write
Not over the baking I have to do
I think my holiday stress is effecting my baked goods
They burned in the oven just today
I threw them away
The biggest source of Holiday stress
Visiting family I have not seen in a long time
It just might be a test of my patience
I guess I will wait and see what tomorrow brings
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 9:37 PM UTC
We shall speak, and by speaking loudly and fervently enough, we shall be heard.
We shall be heard, and by being heard, we will be dismissed as the lost denizens of a failing society.
We shall be dismissed, and by being dismissed, we shall not disappear quietly into the night as our forerunners have done.
We shall be branded "Communists" & "Traitors", and in doing so we shall aquire the attentions of those we aim to educate.
We shall not be silenced, and by refusing to be marginalized into a portion of "freaks and outcasts", we shall be known.
We shall not be paid off or coerced into "negotiations", and by maintaining unity, we shall be outlawed.
We shall not accept the scorn of those whose power seems unassailable,
and in so doing, we shall be feared.
We shall not accept platitudes and half measures as answers to our grievances, and in so doing, we will be persecuted.
We shall not accept a world where our worth as human beings is measured by GDP, and in doing so, we will become that which we seek.
We shall not accept that "Some people are better than others", rather,
we KNOW that liberty is born from knowledge.
We shall speak, and by speaking, be heard, and by being heard, we will effect change, and by effecting change, we will be victorious.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
Experiencing the love we share,
Encouraging only the positivity,
Explicitly repelling opposed air,
Embalming only the negativity,
Effecting the feelings that glare.
We savour that sweetness now.
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 12:34 AM UTC
Should I comminate my enemies,
Or simply,
Educate those who are kin to me
Its sad to say
most of my elders aren't men to me
Don't take offense,
It's not directed towards anyone individually
But I'm Ashamed to say
most of my people aren't strong mentally
We remain in our chains even tho we appear free.
Enslaved since birth my rights were stripped from me.
Tho, I came up chasing knowledge,
I knew the truth was the key
Way before college
I learned the universe went from
zero to infinity
About zero point energy
And the truth they shroud
Surrounding this melanin
Multiplying my energy
Never dare to hide
I don't wish for invisibility
So I see the countenance of
These racist faces filled with envy
Strong Black Man,
Convict even if I'm proven innocent
You can't say that makes me Militant
Just wondering why I was born here
and have less rights than immigrants.
In a sense,
I can't make it in Amerikkka,
Regardless of my diligence.
Just have to go where my destiny sends me
I know my soul is immortal
so these cowards could never end me
All my life I had to fight
Its the Will of Fire within me.
Tongue sharp as a knife
I can feel the spirit shield me.
So I keep my boots on Mother Earth
I'll forever war for her.
I try to keep my chakras in sync,
But may disrespect you
If you accept the lies they wrote in ink.
We are the original people,
Our ancestors were Kings & Queens
Yes you I,
Even though as blacks we're only expected to die
Royalty is in our DNA,
not just in our dreams.
We've been empowered longer than enslaved
things are never what they seem.
Wait I forgot,
You were distracted by the love of green.
No not Anahata, I'm unstruck
I don't know if I'm living,
Due to dumb luck,
Or this Old Soul effecting my conduct.
Let me induct you into enlightenment
Active your pineal gland like lightning
Teach you about the astral
its oh so exciting
Tho this all begins with you my child
Please don't be frightened.
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 2:11 AM UTC
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Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 3:48 AM UTC