"maxwell" poems
Like flipped coin midair
Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle
Two ends of a spectrum, Möbius strip
In a room together,
Maxwell’s demon, revolving door
Cancer and chemo
Like life and death
Only one can be
The next is inevitable
Like an election
Only one figurehead may speak for a governing body
Like the seasons
Change is expected
Like a cat left to its own devices
Guaranteed to scare itself after a given time
Man tries to conquer for comforts sake
Mercurial reactions
Like elements under catalyst
Electron orbitals
Exchange positive core
Theory of relativity
A choice of determining
Accuracy of position or velocity
Hermes, deity of mine
Masculine and feminine
Ruler of I
Relieve the war of the immortal twins
Gemini
Battling my heart and mind
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 6:06 PM UTC
mr moonlight
mr nowhere
maxwell edison
mr jones
dr robert
sgt pepper
mr kite, bb king
edgar allen poe
walter raleigh
mat busby
the hendersons
and maggie mae
mr mustard
captain marvel
rita lucy jojo
vera chuck and dave
mother nature
polethene pam
mr heath doris day
and buffalo bill
loretta martin
**** sadie
hey jude eggman
my michelle
rigby and pilchard
or elenor and semolina
took father mckenzie
too see a dancing horse
henry his name was
rocky raccoon was there
prudence rode elephant
to the i me mine waltz
---
There gonna crucify me
the way things go
christ it aint easy
the next day dont know
you know the walrus was paul man
johns bird can sing
george was a genie
ringo wore a ring
but paul is dead now
george stole his soul
john is alive though
ringos in a hole
her royal highness the tax man
commit the perfect crime
she asked for more
with a belly full of wine
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 12:13 PM UTC
#18 | 31 Poems for August 2016
I want soulful conversations filled with happiness, love and laughter.
A little bit of red wine, Sade, Jill Scott and Erykah Badu will do.
Time is wasted so I patiently wait for the clock to get sober eventually.
The sincerity of my words is embedded in the movement of my verbs.
Hope you learn to love your thick thighs and those beautiful brown eyes.
I want to hold you in my arms until you forget what loneliness feels like.
I read your body like the pages and chapters of a novel that I never want to stop reading.
Reading the lines on a woman’s skin is poetry and too many men are illiterate.
So they will never truly understand the fact that liberty begins with literacy.
If you incorporate piano keys into my heartbeat, then I promise that you will fall in love with the melody.
I want soulful conversations filled with happiness, love and laughter.
A little bit of chardonnay, Maxwell, Jill Scott and Erykah Badu will do.
The world is nothing without you, the world is blurry without my muse.
Hope you learn to love your thick thighs and those beautiful brown eyes.
I don’t have much but I have you and with God on my side how can I lose?
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 5:15 PM UTC
3.14 is the value of pi
Semicircle is the shape of a smile
8 is the symbol for infinity
Welcome to quantumly formed poetry.
Expressing my thoughts through cryptic theory
End of reversed evolutionary
It might not be self-explanatory
JUST Keeping It Short and Simple, M, E.
C, L, O, U, D, plus the square of three
is all that I feel when you are with Mi
Fa, So, La, Ti, Do, Re... or I mean me
Like M, A, G, I see... my world on thee.
You are my earth that is a twisted heart
I dream to be the he beside that art
Giving his best to be a romantic
Intimating through the fields of physics.
My love for you is three-dimensional
Taller and longer than diagonals
As deep as abyss, like cosmos so wide
but unbound by space and unchanged by time.
A fire started by a Maxwell's demon
Burning and shining from here to the moon
A flame so lunar and so lunatic
breaking the laws of thermodynamics.
Faring the distance at the speed of light
Lining the night skies like a meteorite
Traversing the widths of the hyperspace
Or cross a black hole just to see your face.
Escape with luck from a magnetic flux
Be right thrice a day with a broken clock
Above all that, there's just one thing I want:
To spend my last breath by holding your hand.
Jun 3, 2017
Jun 3, 2017 at 10:40 PM UTC
The movie shows
an innocent man,
misguided, perhaps,
but well intentioned
killing a creature
he thought to be a pest
and full of remorse
for the unhappiness he caused
In fact,
the man who killed Mijbil
never confessed
never repented
did it for gain
as otter pelts
were worth a bob or two.
A tiny ghost
haunts a ditch
by a single track road
in Scotland
And the vanished marshes of Iraq
know which version of events
to believe.
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 2:26 PM UTC
I Know a Jew fish crier down on Maxwell Street with a
voice like a north wind blowing over corn stubble
in January.
He dangles herring before prospective customers evincing
a joy identical with that of Pavlowa dancing.
His face is that of a man terribly glad to be selling fish,
terribly glad that God made fish, and customers to
whom he may call his wares, from a pushcart.
2.7k
I want that kinda love like the way Obama looks at Michelle
I want that kinda love Like Cinderella in her happliy ever after fairytale
I want that kinda love thats brings you Heaven in the mist of all hell
I want that kinda love thats gonna be there for you at the lowest point in your life when you fail.
I want that kinda love that if you start Looking into thier eyes you will be put under a spell
I want that kind of love that Feeds your mind knowlege until you both feel Faded.
I want That kinda of love that takes you high and gets your spirit Elevated
I want That kinda of love that keeps you going and movatived.
I want That kinda love where you keep on all your clothes but still be exposed like your naked.
I want That kind of love thats scared
Yes that kinda of love.
I want that kinda love Fitting me like a cold hand to warm glove
I want That kinda Love expressed through the lycis that Jill Scott sings,
That kinda love of how much joy and life loves brings
That kind of love Manifesting the many blessings
That India Arie Compassionate kinda love
That kindred Family soul kinda love
That make soul glow, and your spirit Grow kinda love
That poetic hip hop lauren Hill kinda love
That Vivian and Uncle Phil, Jada and Will kinda love
Yes That Kinda Love
As it Washes away my pain and let me dance in your love like the Summer rain
Kissed by a rose kinda love
Let's Cherish the day as if were are lyrics to the music sung by Sade.
Old school R&B; kinda of love
That Smooth Jazz kem music kinda love
That maxwell fortunate kinda love
That Babyface Whip Appeal so I know its real kinda love
That Cliff and Clair Huxtable Honorable and responsible Kind of love.
That Unlimited, Unconditinal, Uncommon Kind of Love.
That Purpose driven,
On a Mission,
Bringing The vision to fruition
kinda love
1 Corinthians 13 kind of love
You'll be My King and Ill be you Queen kinda of love
That Hebrew Royalty
Showing loyalty kinda love
I want that nourish your soul like Grandmas Homemade Turkey and biscuits casserole kinda love.
I want that Acts 6:3 kind of man with faith, prayer, and a plan.
I want a God fearing man who genuinely understands.
I want a Relationship like Boaz and Ruth,
Taking the journey together living in the Truth
I want a love that will fight for me just as Jocob did For Racheal and I promise I'll always be faithful.
Let it be Pleasing to God's sight just as Leah
But yet As wise As Solomon and The Queen of Sheba kinda love
I want that 1 John 3:18 Kind of love
That Unforseen kinda Love
As we Build like Noah and Nehemiah,
But Weep together like Jeremiah kinda of love
I want that Serve like Sammuel
And Pray like Daniel Kinda of love.
That love me like Christ Kinda of Love.
Yes That is my Kinda of love.
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 8:05 PM UTC
GREEN Chapter One
As Kenya lie on the floor at Club Envy with her lungs burning and filling up with blood from being shot by an unknown person she thought her life would never end like this. Kenya tears started to flow as she thought of the years she spent silthering with snakes. Her job at the BNB Bank made it easy to launder money for the Black Crime Syndicate. It was six years ago in the month of June that her life took a downward spiral.
Upset at the thought of being late for work Kenya floored the gas pedal. As she passed by the slow moving drivers weaving in and out of traffic Kenya hoped she didn't get a ticket. I just had to stay up late watching the marathon of Funny Man. Now I got to race the clock and pray I don't get stopped by the police thought Kenya as she sped past the other drivers. As Kenya pulled into the BNB Bank parking lot she checked the time.
"It's 7:55a.m. I made it within five minutes."
Kenya got out of her car and walked through the bank's glass doors.
As time passed the employees of BNB got the bank ready for the public. One of the three people that arrived at the time of opening was a new face. Mmmmmm yummy thought Kenya as she walked up to the tall light skinned man.
"Hello sir how may I help you?" asked Kenya as she eyed the man up and down.
"My name is Malik Maxwell Williams. I would like to open a checking and savings account" answered the tall light skinned man.
"Mr. Williams please follow me to my office."
As Kenya and Malik sat in Kenya's office filling out papers Kenya made it up in her mind that she would get to know Malik on a personal level. After a days work Kenya got behind the wheel of her red BMW and started her drive home. On her way home. On her way home Kenya called her best friend Jewel Stonewall.
"Hello Jewel how are you?" asked Kenya with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand holding her cellphone.
"I'm doing great Kenya. What's up?" answered Jewel Stonewall as she did one of her client's hair at her salon the Golden Scissors.
"Are we still on for Saturday?"
With a confused look on her face Jewel asked
"Is the day Friday already?"
"Yeah girl what day did you think it was?"
"To tell you the truth Kenya I thought the day was Thursday."
"No Jewel it's Friday. I'm glad I have a friend who owns a hair salon."
"You better be thankful. I'll talk with you later Kenya."
"Ok by Jewel."
Kenya Ayanna Night was a plain looking black woman in her 30's who lived a very plain life. She always looked forward to Saturday. A day she would spend at the Golden Scissors getting her hair done and talking with Jewel Stonewall her childhood friend.
Written by: Keith Edward Baucum
Feb 13, 2020
Feb 13, 2020 at 2:32 PM UTC
We eat shawarma and we share da pizza
afterwards partying, never alone on dat gig
meet a *** just to bang her wit my homez
me salutin' to carlos, yep, it's like dat:
he be spending some time behind bars now
ain't no biggie, we rely on da boyz
neva had nuttin' but now we fuckin' top-modelz
as maxwell argued: "open your mouth, i'm gonna ***
watch, how we double our profitz...
da hottest gang under da sun
once bonez said:" man, we be stars quite soon!"
and each memba represented his part
he told me: "sit down and write barz"
cause dem gangsterrappaz mostly be phony
we no lelleks, i got men behind me
187 street gang, sampler number four
Nov 27, 2020
Nov 27, 2020 at 10:00 AM UTC
As Kenya lay on the floor at Club Envy with her lungs burning and filling up with blood from being shot by an unknown person she thought her life would never end like this. Kenya's tears started to flow as she thought of the years she spent slithering with snakes. Her job at the BNB Bank made it easy to launder money for the Black Crime Syndicate. It was six years ago in the month of June that her life took a downward spiral.
Upset at the thought of being late for work Kenya floored the gas pedal. As she passed by the slow moving drivers weaving in and out of traffic Kenya hoped she didn't get a ticket. I just had to stay up late watching the marathon of Funny Man. Now I got to race the clock and pray I don't get stopped the police thought Kenya as she sped past the other drivers. As Kenya pulled into the BNB Bank's parking lot she checked the time.
"It's 7:55am. I made it within five minutes" said Kenya.
Kenya got out of her car and walked through the bank's glass doors. As time passed the employees of BNB got the bank ready for the public. One of the three people that arrived at the time of opening was a new face. Mmmmmm yummy thought Kenya as she walked up to the tall light skinned man.
"Hello sir how may I help you?" asked Kenya as she eyed the man up and down.
"My name is Malik Maxwell. I would like to open a checking and a savings account" answered the tall light skinned man.
"Mr. Maxwell please follow me to my office" said Kenya.
As Kenya and Malik sat in Kenya's office filling out papers Kenya made it up in here mind that she would get to know Malik on a personal level.
After a day's work Kenya got behind the wheel of her BMW and started he drive home. On her way home Kenya called her best friend Jewel Stonewall.
"Hello Jewel how are you?" asked Kenya with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand holding her cellphone.
"I'm doing great Kenya. What's up?" answered Jewel as she did one of her client's hair at her salon the Golden Scissors.
"Are we still on for Saturday?" asked Kenya.
With a confused look on her face Jewel asked
"Is the day Friday already?"
"Yeah girl what day did you think it was?" responded Kenya.
"To tell you the truth Kenya I thought the day was Thursday" said Jewel.
"No Jewel it's Friday. I'm glad I have a friend who owns a hair salon" said Kenya.
"You better be thankful. I'll talk with you later Kenya" said Jewel.
"Ok bye Jewel" said Kenya.
Kenya Ayanna Night was a plain looking black woman in her 30's who lived a very plain life. She always looked forward to Saturday. A day she would spend at the Golden Scissors getting her hair done and talking with Jewel Stonewall her childhood friend.
written by Keith Edward Baucum
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 1:46 PM UTC
She danced in the moonlight dazzle by the sun, she wanted her dreams to come true no matter what she was going through...
The Fire within kept her dancing even when she was burned, broken and weak the chemo only made her sleep... only to be told she can’t dance anymore they will have to take her ***** she felt naked on the dance floor... lost and alone in her zone her Fire Pink was completely gone!
As the sunset and the skies turned orange, red and Pink she asked God “ Please Take This Cancer Away From Me”!!!! Weaping with sorrow all she could think about was hair that was falling out everywhere..
Her last tear touched the ground as an Angel appears with Fire Pink in his hand , he reached through her solar plexus to light the Spark that was Dimmed. Fire Pink dances free now she touches those who are sleep.
By, Jana Maxwell Clay dedicated to my Auntie Danielle Denise Duckett
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 12:08 AM UTC
The video stutters and she jitters to a halt in an intersection;
Traffic lights turn green, and the display revs up,
The Broken Egg food truck clips her heel and spark-like static fogs the screen.
His fingers, once lightly brushing over a braille textbook, freeze out.
The book lifts itself and scraps left to right under his palm.
Her professor speaks, and her lecture on Maxwell's equations propagate towards the classroom wall,
only the walls have fled with their chalkboards, and the standing waves have been left stranded
in the sudden infinite space. She has lost reflections; only direct, brute force remains.
The Truth: I wear petty images like a cloak.
The Truth: My gears tremor under the strain of life, stuck on
The Truth: I think
You'd think me stupid, a bust, and the truth is
I'd rather stand in traffic, frozen, mute and dumb,
than ask questions, intern, or learn the difficult stuff.
Secondary screens:
I'd rather write poems and post them online for strangers
than talk about chemical potentials or spherical wavefunctions.
I'd rather talk about chemical potentials and wavefunctions
than figure out what happened to my remote.
There's too much movement to feel good standing still.
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 3:29 PM UTC
Humans love their pets,
In many different ways,
Building a bond that is strong,
Until either one dies, no matter how long.
People remember the good happy times,
With their pets, bragging every day,
They can make a mess in the house,
Their humans clean it up,
Forgotten, in a fast way,
Why can’t humans treat each other the same way,
If the toilet seat is left up, easy to put down,
From some, you hear complaining for days.
The original: Tom Maxwell© 3/6/22 AD
1:46 pm
Mar 7, 2022
Mar 7, 2022 at 6:41 AM UTC
I've never run
During a rainstorm,
Savoring every drop
Like Maxwell's
Has parted from the skies,
If I could
I'd add honey
And sip
A cup of tea,
Feeling
Every heavenly tear
Raining on me,
This is my bubble bath
My hot tub time machine,
The ocean coming to me
When I can't come to it,
Every puddle
A lake,
Every splash
A wave,
A greeting of the impending sun
A goodbye from the clouds
That will no longer shadow over me,
Every pitter patter
Like a rhythmic drummer
Lullaby to my heart...
APAD13 - 106 © okpoet
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 3:38 PM UTC
I hope its a Saturday.
I would start by waking up before you do
(since I'm always the last one up)
and I'd cook you breakfast in bed.
It seems simple I know, but I'd start early
at, like, 7 am
and cook every kind of pancake and egg I could imagine.
Like eggs in a basket or cinnamon bun pancakes,
or maybe just the buttermilk kind.
I would tap the maple tree out back
and boil up a batch of the sweetest maple syrup
you had ever tasted.
Every time you would taste syrup after this,
you would think of me and this morning.
Then I would cook up all of the bacon I could find
until it turned black and crispy
(too burnt for me, but I know you like it that way).
I'd pull all of the mangoes and oranges and grapefruit out of the fridge,
and use that Jack LaLanne Power Juicer,
you know,
the one that we haven't used since it arrived on our porch.
There will be too much pulp for you,
but you'll drink it anyway.
I would finish up by brewing your favorite coffee-
isn't it that Columbian kind?-
and wake you with the smell wafting through the apartment
(like those Maxwell House commercials).
You would come downstairs wondering what was going on,
and where I was,
since I am never out of bed before you.
And you would see a table covered in food
with me ironing all of your work shirts for the next week.
It would be so **** we'd make love right there,
on the dining room floor
ignoring the food that was quickly becoming too cold to enjoy.
And then I would erase it all
and leave you.
Jan 4, 2012
Jan 4, 2012 at 7:18 PM UTC
Beatle Bomb
I should have known better, but if I fell, can you tell me why?
I'm happy just to dance with you, anytime at all,
you can't do that, if you love me do,
I want to hold your hand, and your bird can sing too,
said you was a taxman, it was a hard days night,
you can drive my car, but you wont see me,
I'm looking through you, but you're nowhere man,
had a ticket to ride, eight days a week,
it was only yesterday, when I met the day tripper,
we can work it out, with the paperback writer,
we called Eleanor Rigby and Penny Lane,
and now it's getting better, with a little help from my friends,
You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo”
I say “Goodbye”,
You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo”
I say “Goodbye”,
I was living in a glass onion with Dear Prudence,
I said help! Lady Maddona, won't you just let it be,
Martha my dear, took her Blackbird and Piggies
while Rocky Racoon and Bungalow Bill found something to ****
Julia and **** Sadie had honey pie for their birthday
while there was a revolution back in the U.S.S.R
it was helter skelter but everybody's got something to hide
but I'm getting better, fixing a hole, using Maxwell's silver hammer
and mean Mr Mustard was chasing Polythene Pam
so she came in through the bathroom window
guess it is time to just Let it be
You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo”
I say “Goodbye”,
You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo”
I say “Goodbye”,
Gomer LePoet...
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 1:24 PM UTC
Roses are the perfect flower,
To brighten, any day,
A glorious fragrance,
Creating memories,
That will stay.
Roses often speak,
The language, of the heart,
As their beauty reflects,
A perfect work of art.
As they slowly open,
Into A perfect bloom,
Touching everyone's feelings,
As they enter the room.
Tom Maxwell Copyright 1/27/2007
Feb 13, 2021
Feb 13, 2021 at 9:33 PM UTC
You arrived in this life, with an open hand,
Everything to learn, no direction or plans,
Never knowing, what you will find,
Around the next turn, someone you never expected,
Is your true best friend, and those you thought,
Were so cool, we’re looking at you to burn.
As a child, everything so entertaining,
That enters your mind, then you learn, to separate,
What is good, and what will lead to binds.
Everything grew smaller, as you started standing,
Higher, on your feet, Your dreams started expanding,
As you planned, on reaching the tallest peak.
Dreams do come true, some you never even realize,
A different, person, time, and place, than the original vision,
That came to you. Always plan, look ahead a few years,
The material world can be fun, many end up with empty hands.
None of us know, until our last, how many we will have till our final day,
Angels and your spirit will guide you, to help lead your soul to perfection,
The only part of you, that will travel on, after this life’s stay.
The Original: Tom Maxwell © 7/22/2022 AD
4:20 am
Jul 22, 2022
Jul 22, 2022 at 7:20 AM UTC
Our attitude, and what we believe,
Is a big part of this life, every day,
How we react to certain situations,
Can lead us forward,
Or leave us where we are to stay,
It’s the same, for everyone,
No matter where you’re from, your work, or how you pray.
Our beliefs, will always change,
Examine both sides of each situation, every time,
Rules, laws, along with many other circumstances,
Were created, to keep negative thoughts and fear, within our mind,
We have to have trust and faith for ourselves,
Have confidence, and always watch for positive signs.
The Original: Tom Maxwell © 1/10/2022AD
7:45 PM
Jan 10, 2022
Jan 10, 2022 at 9:45 PM UTC
Around this particular time i can recall bonfires on a Far Rockaway beach
in between two and three AM
The fire; a heap of AM newyork papers burning in a rusted trash can stolen from the boardwalk.
Kiah was beautiful
her hair, coarse honey ringlets framed
a narrow face. I watched her eat grapes
and pull her hair away from her eyes a couple
of times. She ate the grapes and their juice made her lips glossy she did this and sipped on a Corona
her boyfriend sat behind her playing the guitar
and no attention to anyone. I wanted him.
A few days before that I was in his room
He asked if I ever heard Shaggy's "Mr. Bombastic"
that's what was playing when she walked into the room
she stared at me like a cat plotting an attack
walked past me like one too
the night before that I lay on the floor
of his room. There was no furniture
a motor bike in the corner. Some drums,
and various painted wood boards hung up, some laying
on the floor. Oil pastels scattered along with
screws, and bolts. while he played
maxwell on his guitar, acrylic paint under his finger nails.
I woke on the floor with a fuzzy purple throw blanket over me he was still in the same spot strumming and,
smoking a beedie when the sun came up
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 11:21 PM UTC
Soon the sun will be out of sight,
As it falls to the west, we begin our night,
Then, the street lights will shine so bright,
Later as everyone starts yawning, they say good night.
We just lived through, another day,
Never knowing, how many more, may come our way.
There is no rhyme or reason,
We each have a different length, to our personal season.
In this life no one, forever stays,
We each have an unknown time, place, and way,
Our reservations have been made.
Think positive, learn, teach, help others, every day.
No need to complain about things,
You have no power to advise or change,
Many times, in this life, we will have to rearrange,
Be thankful for this life’s short stay,
In the morning, the sun will rise, in the eastern sky,
Shining bright, to light our way, another day.
The original: Tom Maxwell © 3/15/22 AD
Mar 16, 2022
Mar 16, 2022 at 4:28 AM UTC
As Kenya lay on the floor at Club Envy with her lungs burning and filling up with blood from being shot by an unknown person she thought her life would never end like this. Kenya's tears started to flow as she thought of the years she spent slithering with snakes. Her job at the BNB Bank made it easy to launder money for the Black Crime Syndicate. It was six years ago in the month of June that her life took a downward spiral.
Upset at the thought of being late for work Kenya floored the gas pedal. As she passed by the slow moving drivers weaving in and out of traffic Kenya hoped she didn't get a ticket. I just had to stay up late watching the marathon of FunnyMan. Now I got to race the clock and pray I don't stopped by the police thought Kenya as she past by the other drivers. As Kenya pulled into the BNB Bank's parking lot she checked the time.
"It's 7:55am. I made it within five minutes" said Kenya.
Kenya got out of her car and walked through the bank's glass doors. As time passed the employees of BNB got the bank ready for the public. One of the three people that arrived at the time of opening was a new face. Mmmmmm yummy thought Kenya as she walked up to the tall light skinned man.
"Hello sir how may I help you?" asked Kenya as she eyed the man up and down.
"My name is Malik Maxwell. I would like to open a checking and a savings account" answered the tall light skinned man.
"Mr. Maxwell please follow me to my office" said Kenya.
As Kenya and Malik sat in Kenya's office filling out papers Kenya made it up in her mind that she would get to know Malik on a personal level.
After a day's work Kenya got behind the wheel of her BMW and started her drive home. On her way home Kenya called her best friend Jewel Stonewall.
"Hello Jewel how are you?" asked Kenya with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand holding her
cellphone.
"I'm doing great Kenya. What's up?" asked Jewel as she did one of her client's hair at her salon the Golden Scissors.
"Are we still on for Saturday?" asked Kenya.
"Is the day Friday already" said Jewel.
"Yeah girl what day did you think it was?" responded Kenya.
"To tell you the truth Kenya I thought the day was Thursday" said Jewel.
"No Jewel it's Friday. I'm glad I have a friend who owns a hair salon" said Kenya.
"You better be thankful. I'll talk with you later Kenya" said Jewel.
"Ok bye Jewel" said Kenya.
Kenya Ayanna Night was a plain looking black woman in her 30's who lived a very plain life. She always looked forward to Saturday. A day she would spend at the Golden Scissors getting her hair done and talking with Jewel Stonewall her childhood friend.
Written by Epic
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 2:32 AM UTC
This life is just a onetime passage,
For the soul, inside of you,
It’s not about, how much you have,
Or something you did, or think you can do,
Always, look ahead, when a decision, in in front of you,
What could the outcome be, think, when you pick, or choose.
It is not easy, to discover yourself, today, to many, man - made distractions, in our way,
Many become addictions, they keep you, and your soul, confused, each day,
We are each a part of nature, go out by yourself, pack a lunch, leave cell phone, at home away,
Forget the this, and that’s, and other excuses, you can make up, not to be alone, are you afraid?
Nature is the only thing, around in this life, that is not man made, take time, relax, listen,
Nature does give us messages, of where we are, and guides us, at the perfect time in special ways.
The original Tom Maxwell© 09/01/2025 AD
Sep 2, 2025
Sep 2, 2025 at 12:46 AM UTC
My first life lasted long enough
A wife I loved and children real stuff
The war changed everything
Family dead except for my son
where was he when we won?
Forget it all
My second life a depressed teen
Counselors fail to make me clean
Phonographs and tapes
The start of my new life
Why do I keep thinking of my wife?
Forget it all
Third life wasn't strong
Discrimination with my hair long
Women disguises aren't the best in 1900's
This goes with my fourth and fifth
I really wish this was a myth
Forget it all
Sixth was really fun
Did some drugs and went to clubs
Became a show host
They all found out
They started to shout
Forget it all
Aute Lun didn't go to heaven
Nothing phased number seven
His life did not last
Number eight was burned to the steak
That hurt I needed a break
Poor sweet number nine
His bills made him commit
Suicide
Ten and Eleven
Nearly became convicted felons
But they got too sick to even try
Forget it all
All these lives
Do they matter?
Just forget...
Number 12 was one of the longest
A guy by the name of Alex Coneales
I was finally myself again
I made a friend or two
They help me through
They never know
Wilson Maxwell a friend with laughs
He found my tapes, my phonographs
We exchange our secrets
He says he'll help me no matter what
He knows too much so I keep shut
I'M SCARED
FORGET IT ALL
Jun 15, 2018
Jun 15, 2018 at 9:58 PM UTC