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Lord, Lord,
Why did You make me Black?
Why did You make me someone
The world wants to hold back?

Black is the color of ***** clothes;
The color of grimy hands and feet.
Black is the color of darkness;
The color of tire-beaten streets.

Why did you give me thick lips,
A broad nose and ***** hair?
Why did You make me someone
Who receives the hatred stare?

Black is the color of a bruised eye
When somebody gets hurt.
Black is the color of darkness.
Black is the color of dirt.
How come my bone structure's so thick;
my hips and cheeks are high?
How come my eyes are brown
and not the color of the daylight sky?

Why do people think I'm useless?
How come I feel so used?
Why do some people see my skin and think I should be abused?

Lord, I just don't understand;
What is it about my skin?
Why do some people want to hate me
And not know the person within?

Black is what people are "listed",
When others want to keep them away.
Black is the color of shadows cast.
Black is the end of the day.

Lord, You know, my own people mistreat me;
And I know this just isn't right.
They don't like my hair or the way I look
They say I'm too dark or too light.

Lord, Don't You think it's time
For You to make a change?
Why don't You re-do creation
And make everyone the same?

(God answered

Why did I make you black?
Why did I make you black?

Get off your knees and look around.
Tell Me, what do you see?
I didn't make you in the image of darkness.
I made you in the Likeness of ME!

I made you the color of coal
From which beautiful diamonds are formed.
I made you the color of oil,
The black-gold that keeps people warm.

I made you from the rich, dark earth
That can grow the food you need.
Your color's the same as the panther's
Known for (HER) beauty and speed.

Your color's the same as the Black stallion,
A majestic animal is he.
I didn't make you in the Image of darkness
I made you in the Likeness of Me!

All the colors of a Heavenly Rainbow
Can be found throughout every nation;
And when all those colors were blended well,
YOU BECAME MY GREATEST CREATION.

Your hair is the texture of lamb's wool
Such a humble, little creature is he.
I am the Shepherd who watches them.
I am the One who will watch over thee.

You are the color of midnight-sky,
I put the stars' glitter in your eyes.
There's a smile hidden behind your pain
That's the reason your cheeks are high.

You are the color of dark clouds formed
when I send My strongest weather.
I made your lips full so when you kiss
the one you love they will remember.

Your stature is strong; your bone structure, thick
to withstand the burdens of time.
The reflection you see in the mirror...
The Image looking back at you is MINE!

-by RuNett Nia Ebo
This is not my poem. This is a Poem by RuNett Nia Ebo. It's one of my favorites and I just wanted to share.
ryn Feb 2015
.
•    
re-
     kindle
    the spark
   that governed
    this game•the fire
  that once burnt as bri-
  ght as sun•all of this once
before, had a name•but now
is weak from the time it had be-
gun•there was a time when it wo-
uld consume•......it would defy the
odds....just so it could burn as one•
frantic and desperate for the magic
to resume•uncertainty has carved
itself into the heart that has come
undone•winds bearing ill no-
tions revealed as the enemy•
stitch up the gaps keep-
ing out the rogue
gust•
  pro
tect
  the
light that burns ever weakly•rejuve-
nate the spirit that harbours broken trust
•rekindle me now... i'm still in the game•
the heart                   save the     you will
isn't                              candle           need
ready                           and              to see
to make                         nur-              me    
sense                            ture             with
of the                             it                 this
dark•                             to                  in-  
                                    fla-              sig-  
                                   me•             nia
                                     ­                     as my
                                                         mark
                                                         •
.
Denise Sinahon May 2020
Panibagong tula nanaman
Panibagong eksena sa aking buhay ay iyong masasaksihan
Handa ka na bang mabasa kung paano ako nasaktan?
Ng mga salitang binitawan ng taong aking pinapahalagan

Nagsimula ito nung panahon na ako ay iyong pinangakuan
Ndi ko inaasahan na magkakaroon ito ng epekto sa aking katauhan
Katauhan na aking binuo at iniingatan
Ngunit masisira ulit ng dahil sa mga pangakong nag wakas ng dahil sa mga pangyayaring di inaasahan

Akala ko iba ka sa mga taong sa akin ay ng iwan
Ang hindi ko alam isa ka rin plang martilyo na lahat ng pangako ay napapako lamang
Pinaramdam mo saakin ang saya na tumatak sa aking isipan
Ngunit nag iwan din ng sakit na hinding hindi ko malilimutan

Nakabangon ako dahil naging matatag ako
kinaya kong labanan ang sakit na iniwan mo
Kahit na binalik mo ang isang bagay na matagal ko ng gustong itago
Sinira mo nanaman ang pagtitiwala ko sa mga taong nasa paligid ko

Pero salamat pa rin sayo
Kahit na ganito ang nangyari sa buhay ko
May aral kang iniwan sa kokote ko
At yun ay wag magtiwala kung kani kanino

Ndi sapat ang tagal ng pagkakakilala
Para mapatunayan na ndi ka iiwan bigla
Dahil pag may nahanap ng iba Na nagpapasaya  sakanya ng sobra
Makakalimutan nia ang taong nasa tabi nia sa tuwing siya ay may problema

Maaring ndi naging sapat ang effort na pinakita mo
Para sakanya na ndi marunong makuntento
At naghahangad pa ng mas matinding lambing at pag suyo
Kaya wag **** sisihin ang sarili mo,wala kang kasalanan sa mga ito

Laging tatandaan at wag na wag kakalimutan
Ang taong marunong makuntento sa kanyang naiibigan
Ay nagmamahal ng purong katotohanan
Hindi ko sinasabing ikaw ay aking nagustuhan

Wag umasa at baka masaktan
Pero ako ay aminado na muntikan
Muntikan na akong mahulog sa isang taong torpe at gago
At easy to get ang gusto

Ayaw mo ng make up at kung ano anong pampaganda
Pero ung jowa mo muka ng pabrika ng harina
Sa sobrang puti ng kanyang pagmumukha
Nakakatawang isipin na ndi mo napanindigan ang binitawan **** salita

Maraming pagbabago
Ung taong nakasanayan ko
Ngayon wala na sa piling ko
May iba ng babaeng gusto

Pero masaya ako sa buhay ko
Dahil may mga taong nandyan para damayan ako
Intindihin ung ugaling minsan walang sinasanto
At ung pag iisip na ndi maiintindihan ng kung sino sino

Naguguluhan ako ngayon
Pero ndi ako pinapabayaan ng bakasyon
Binibigyan niya ako ng mga bagay na maaring pagbalingan ng aking atensyon
At andyan ang tropa handang makinig sa aking drama at orasyon

May isang mahalagang taong sakin nag sabi
Mahalagang matutunan ang pagmamahal sa sarili
Upang maging puro at totoo ang pagmamahal mo sa iba
At maging buong pagmamahal ang maibibigay mo saiyong sinisinta

Sa bawat tao na sa atin ay nang iiwan
Wag mawalan ng pag asa dahil sila ay lumisan
Maaring sila ay nag iwan ng isang aral na dapat tandaan
At sa hinaharap ay magamit sa mga mararanasan
Ang tulang ito ay maaring kapulutan ng mga aral na magagamit mo sa mga panahong ikaw ay makakaranas ng sakit at pighati na dulot ng pang iiwan sayo ng isang taong pinagkatiwalaan at minahal mo
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2016
i get to be ridiculous, i'm an artist, it's only that my ridiculousness doesn't border with the Vatican City, or Switzerland that it's deemed "weird" (symbol use, also know as passing on misnomers, ~ - that's ambiguity, a stranger punctuation construct from the hyphen), it's weird because i'm attired in familiar clothing to an Essex loafer, i don't have the currency to buy fancy Pompidou mascara or lipstick and stroll with other drag queens at gay pride... i'm back-of-the-woods type of guy, on the Cartesian Libra heavyweight to the side of 'i think' than on the pigeon-**** weight side of 'i am' - mathematically speaking that's like 2 + 1 = 3 - "schizoid" thinking coupled to non-schizoid behavioural patterns therefore means... an increased threshold capacity for experiencing pain.

the first time i smoked marijuana
(and i didn't know how to roll
a joint of marijuana and tobacco)
was the happiest time of my life,
i exercised a lot, practised Roman bulimia
unconsciously - no pills, nothing,
******* down my throat, later
i trained the *suprahyoid
and the infrahyoid
muscles so well that
i could just throw the chocolate bars up,
trained them so well as if i was gagging
on a *****... but to keep a body image,
well, you know, to look **** (add sarcasm
with the italics) you have to do what women
do, for me it was a Roman Bulimia,
for them, dieting - it was weird owning
a different body from the one i own now,
c.c.t.v. Narcissus-shadow stalker was all a craze back then,
too much self-conscious ******* wrapped in
a ***** and sent to a daycare centre -
it feels great these days, drinking 70cl of whiskey
a night, and why would i be bragging without
a bowler hat and a cane a butterfly prim
on my neck and a neat suit?
i read Bulgakov, that'll do, i have an operatic
cat at this moment, i've never heard so many variations
of meow after the doors to the garden are closed
and he's told to remain indoors after 9p.m.,
he sits on the bathroom windowsill and wants
to be nannied in the lap while someone smokes
downstairs... 'fella, same fresh air down here as up there'...
it's more of a fox than a cat...
he matured to be ~10 kilograms, and so's a mature fox,
i know, i weighed one, cutting a work's pay for
some sanitary worked one night
when i was eager to buy a few beers... mature foxes
~10 kilograms minus 21 grams (you know, the
Higgs' boson of soul, alejandro gonzález iñárritu -
but why add ñá so close? it's -nia- anyway,
so Mexico or e ** ** **, the Mexican Hew, huh?
ah... Habana!)
swear to god, never heard so many variations...
where was i? ah, adapting Bach's polyphony within
poetry, could have been a king david, but i smashed
my lyre... i never liked the cheap one-man tennis
and a brick wall of poetry within claim of stiffening repeats:
rhyme... bounce... rhyme... Bunsen! rhyme... bounce...
rhyme... Bunsen! ya-d'ah ya-d'ah ya-d'ah...
a carousel in Golders Green where all the payots
flew off and made french pastry curls... cinnamon... mm.
and two books i wish i'd written -
closed society and it's allies, the alt. to Popper's
antonym based yawn-epic - Karl, falsifier -
and anger and restlessness, the alt. to a Danish
epic by Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling -
alt. say it as it is - ******* is like a bow-tie event,
a moth a butterfly event - the ******* was
there for a reason, pleasure from *******
when your *** partner was "feeling tired",
men and women are both libido struck sometimes
to extremes, they mentioned f.g.m. but didn't mention
m.g.m., with ******* you ain't chasing, you ain't
playing the dating game - circumcision gave
women the upper hand, the toy machine of manhood,
you have ******* for a reason, it's not in line with
ancient Hebraic laws where you have to do 613 things
to obey... and with ******* you're less likely to
go Boko Haram cuckoo and steal girls for their ******* -
i believe the fabled conversation between Zeus and
Hera is necessary - women derive more pleasure
from ***... but men derive more pleasure from life -
well, if you have *******, see the image problem?
i'm dressed... you're undressed... i have two capacities
and a tool to curb my libido, you have jack and a stockpile
of nukes - with a cigar smoking duke on percussion
that only takes one press and the whole orchestra starts
up with a crescendo rather than a build-up.
oh right... the first time i started smoking marijuana i
was 21... i remember it clearly, i don't know how i managed
to roll a joint... Edinburgh 2007, Montague Street,
i rolled one... smoked it... lay on the floor...
and giggled my way through Daft Punk's album human
after all
- giggled and danced horizontally...
solipsism at it's finest... later i met a girl who said that
*** after marijuana was so much better than sober...
i beg to disagree... given that solo moment,
and ******* prostitutes drunk, esp. in Amsterdam,
where i don't have to feel any English sensibilities on the matter.
Craig Reynolds Jan 2011
no rest
for the wicked
or for
me,
no my
dreams keep me
tired,
no fire
has burnt my
bed yet,
no i’m
watching
laundry line
silhouettes
from:
the shadow box
of my head,
no this
isn’t pain
as much
as its
disorienting,
no i
need medicine
something to
keep me
awake
because
i forgot
to blink,
no it
makes no difference
whether my eyes
are closed or
open,
no dust
left
suspended in light
over the ocean
trenched
darkness.
copyright 2010
Gangothrii Jan 2021
Nia
We sought to see the world so wide,
To blaze a trail that was oh, so bright..
Our dreams bore wings so feather light,
And we let them soar up the clear blue skies..

Thought paths we chose were so apart,
We clutched and held all that was dear.
Time that stole through the memories held,
Faded  but seived all that we felt.

You held my hand at time so hard,
Bent double over the laughter riots we shared..
It ripped us when the other was sad,
And chimed in together when absolutely mad!!

A friend , A foe, my sister or soul,
I know not what you mean anymore.
Vow I do for what it's worth,
not a day goes by, that I miss you the most.
For a friend who means more than life.
Rambus Sep 2016
Semitemos efil t'nia straight-
forward, os uoy yam deen ot
egnahc ruoy evitcepsrep.
It's all about perspective-- read carefully.
Heather Butler Sep 2010
Your name is beautiful.
Your name is so ******* beautiful,
and I want to cry.
Something about the z,
or perhaps the sch
that makes me think of
hurricanes and daisies.

It's all dreams now;
tornado pastures amidst
raindrops
s(h)ifting like a fog
where the light is thin.

But you don't live here anymore.
Your bed is empty and
the sheets lie neatly.
And when your air conditioner kicks on
the air it breathes
no longer smells of you.
I think I'll sneak in through your window
to sleep in your bed
beside the soft pillowed impression
of the memory of you.

The sand lies thin on
the carpeted floor;
acrylic-painted seashells
for housing hermit *****
rest beside the television
empty.
Within the walls
hallucinations of your voice
and on the keys of the piano
the indentations of your fingers.

The hammers are broken.
Still your melody plays.

But you don't live here anymore.
At 2 a.m. I wipe the condensation
from your window pane
and shine the flashlight into your eyes--
just my reflection in the glass.
My fingerprints are fresher than yours
and where my feet fall
the dust from your shoes will be late to meet.
I think I'll lie naked between your sheets
so maybe the mattress will remember
that you felt different than I do.

Your name is beautiful.
Something about the phr,
or the nia...
Heather Butler; 2010
The Good Pussy Jan 2015
.
                              Auto
                        plus­hophilia
                      Actirasty  Agal
                  ­   matophilia Anas
                       teemaphilia A
                       utogynophilia
                       Climacophilia
                       Formicophilia
                       Knismolagnia
                       L ith o phil  ia
                       Melissaphilia
                       Nas o l i ng us
                       Neb u lophilia
                       Psellismophili
                       a Pteronophili
                       a   Pygophilia
        Savant o                      p h i l ia
    *** ill ag nia               Transfestic Fetish
  ism *******                Vorurephilia
       Xylophilia                    Xylophilia
46 Fetishes you didn't know existed.
huffpost.com

*Xylophilia : arousal to wood
Mateuš Conrad May 2016
spier*dalaj!
                                                 ha ha!
stonoga w pończochach
czy mój palec dribble dribble
i pseudo Ronaldo Caesar kiwa,
lazy wachaniem, rękopisem kćuka?
mara jakiegoś życia w rąb
epitaph; urodzony i zgon roku
dnia, mesiącem, pa pa (gest ręką,
szyfrem: do wi dze nia).
Filomena Jan 2021
(1) Nun Izraelo diru tiun ĉi:
Se l'Eternulo kun ni ne estus
(2) Se l'Eternulo fore nin lasus
Kiam leviĝis homoj kontraŭ ni
Nian animon provantaj ĉasi

(3) Tiam vorintus certe ili nin,
Kaj tuj glutintus laŭ timo nia;
Tiel estis kolero ilia -
(4) Ĉion dronanta, kiel inundo;
ili nin trenus suben al morto.

(5) Akvo fiera, kun ondoj tiaj -
Tute la teron superfluantaj
Animojn niajn detrukovrantaj.
(6) Benu la Eternulon nun ĉiuj;
Li nin ne donis al iliaj dentoj.

(7) Kiel ĉasbirdo el la kaptilo;
La retoj estas nun disŝiritaj,
Kaj nune estas ni liberitaj.
(8) Helpas nin nur la Nom' de l'Eternul',
Kreinto de la tero kaj ĉiel'.
PSALMO 124a
Esperante kaj Verse
Laŭ la melodio de '124 Antikva'
(Psalmo 124a de la Psalmaro de Ĝeneva)
10.10.10.10.10
ABBCC
Noandy Feb 2016
Bercak
           da
                rah
                      asi
                             a

Se
    du
          nia
                akhir
                          aha
                                 sia
                                       sia

Kasih
           an
                saya
                         ng
PK Wakefield Jan 2011
4of1
8 speaking
in gluey resin
sweaty spits all
in every rouge drowning
supple cheeks between writhing
pinkheat
carelessly incredible
screaming sourly
some
cali((for
            nia)
            i
            c
           a
           t
           i
           o        n)
Raika Parzella Jul 2022
Its just a nice thought right?
And then it blooms
And suddenly you are in the middle of a field
Lying in the grass
Looking at the stars
Holding their hand

Thinking
I don’t belong here
What the hell am I doing here
But I don’t mind
It’s a beautiful dream
It’s a beautiful thought
It feels so real
They feel so near

Waking up
From this day dream
The one you’ve been working on for years
Building it up and expanding the world

Thinking
I wish our fantasy world was true,
But it’s good enough to share it with you.
Samira Jul 2017
I listened to role models by J. Cole for the hundredth time and I finally heard it. It was a message to our women, No Role Models To Speak Of. He spoke of women who knew he had a girl but encouraged him to act like a dog they cry about. He spoke of "I don't want no ***** from reality shows", he spoke of meaningless *** women has allowed of him and "Kick em to the door, that just how it goes". He made a song and that's all most women of today will hear from No Role Models by J. Cole, another tune. It's not another tune, it's a message. I know because I was one of those women who never heard the message in 2014, today I here it loud in clear some years later. He looks back at his past and No Role Models To Speak Of. It all starts with women and I'm sure he wish women demanded more of what they deserve. Men like complexity, a challenge and as men they deserve that too. He claimed the women didn't even show him worthy of wearing his shirt home. "Lame ****** Cant Tell A Difference, One Time For A ***** Who Knows". He wants an Ant Viv love, he said he was too young for Lisa Bonet, Nia Long... all he's left with is ******* from reality shows who can't even read a script. Can't get mad at him that his only regret is not being able to take Aaliyah home.
Let it be powerful... let it hurt
joel jokonia Jul 2020
Nia
I gatta work hard
Really hard
Give my daughter something
To idolize
Cause mum wanted a famous father
Well I will give you that
Cause you mean a lot
I go take the world into my palms
If it that will make you
Look into my eyes
With those twinkle little eyes
Again
None matter how heavy
It will weigh upon my shoulders
For you I will pull on further
Even a mile more when I have walked a thousand
1001 are just numbers
Figures to count our blessings
Well we won't use numbers baby
We not the einsteins
But by Bernini's works we are the
Illumination
We in the heavens baby
We the stars and moon
Exposed for political gains
Daughter see dad is a soldier
His wise too
He don't fight wars we would never win
Dad is warrior
His smoke signals shall be seen
there's no advance
to this thing
i'm writing

i've heard tons on
tons of the palisades
and i've never lived
west of the
missouri and
where are the palisades
define it
geographically
a minimal

comprehension or-
some other thing-
of the perception
of how people
talk
here
in
missouri

would go a far long
ways in the palisades
somewhere in
flor'da                              or
califor'nia
god i wish i'd known
the weight-per-
pound a baton
centered on a
human forehead

but you had

i hadn't
OB
Nia Feb 2018
Dear, People

When tomorrow starts without me
And I'm not there to see
I wish so much you wouldn't cry
The way you did today
While thinking of the many things
We didn't get to say

Two slit wrists with a scythe
Too ****** up, had to leave this life
Two slit wrists with a scythe
Too ****** up, had to leave this life

It's no joke, too low
I can't cope, smoke dope for the pain
One glock, one shot, point it straight at my brain
Do not resuscitate, told you don't hesitate
I put a end to the voice in my head
Nobody ever listened to what I said
What I said, Nobody ever listened to what I said
I don't really **** with the rest
Young kid flex put the blade to ya neck
One more step, *****, you lose your head
No one remember the **** that you did

I made myself what I am
I turned myself into the man
I made this dough in my hand
But still you don't understand
Don't understand
It takes dedication and some discipline
Talent, drugs and experience
But to be honest, living life, I'm sick of it
Even if the money's still coming in
Even though people still bump my ****
**** the world
Death sounding luxurious
Look in my eyes
If you don't think I'm serious
That's why...

Two slit wrists with a scythe
Too ****** up, had to leave this life
Two slit wrists with a scythe
Too ****** up, had to leave this life
Two slit wrists with a scythe
Too ****** up, had to leave this life
Two slit wrists with a scythe
Too ****** up, had to leave this life

                                                               ­                            -Love Nia
Yeah I be from the south so watch ya mouth
Before you get duct taped ***** by deaths draps ya verses wack as Drake
To Meek Mills skills I drill til ya feel my flows oh so real slam ya with a force harder than Shaquille haters claim they real?
Til they see ya shine appeal then try to steal
Cuz they got no flows to spill so ya better chill
Before my guns raise and blaze leave you in a eternal daze pastors giving praise
As casket lays flesh soon decayed
As ya tooken away from the death angels that stayed
Preyed over ya body I be the Illuminati risin' kundalini hang with shorties who pack shotties quick to make dead bodies
It ain't nothing to a playa so stop bluffin' before you get a snuffin' htown roughin'
Up the bids put that on my kids look what I did?
Shook the game attached my hooks country as Garth Brooks still gettin' looks
From fine black latinas mamacita senoritas stickin' to my pita
bread cuz my **** lines red
Nothing but hardness instead style like Frank Lucas blowin' hookah with a stash of Buddha
Trap the game triangled like Bermuda
Death made from those I slayed this ain't no charades just a taste of my rap alcollade
Another haters throwin' shade I'll fade still leanin' sittin' sideways like them boys in the days
Sippin' purple lemonade with a fresh fade
......Mayne Htown holding crown knocking out clown you'll drown
With no water so don't try to slaughter *******



Southsia fo Lia Nia

While I'm sittin' clean I'm flickin' off hataz like Mr Bean autos aim for ya peen still stickin' for cream livin' out my dream
I'm biggie layin' sigils led to sequels street general turnin' hard rhymers minimals
Role with mobster criminals an animal guns eat though ya flesh like a cannibal true intellectual my flows phenomenal
I'll stretch ya Abdominals for the coroner down the spiritual corridors as the blackness pours
See me gold plated breast in armor coming to swarm ya
It's legion of demons plottin' & schemin' like Keenan
Ivory Wayne's I'm stuck into ya brains
With no syringe suckas pretend I don't get wins? Never seen L only when spit phrases like Big L pockets swell while I'll give heat hotter than Hell
Kin to Satan so that should tell I don't dwell
On goodness cuz in genesis I was kicked out and landed in Exodus
Into the underworld blessed by Osiris mother earth givin' me birth layin' words that hurt reverse the flirt now suckas layin' in dirt
Found later like a fossil this for a ***** name Fussell I see you loosin' muscle
Step into my arena my flows meaner I'll lock jaw ya harder than Hyena
From the guns that'll grease ya into a freezer
Ya body displayed  cuz you had to pay
Ya soul up ya living foul since you a problem child
I gave you a taste of my omen owls *****....
eli Mar 2020
my lover is leaving
dancing far away with another
her name, Nin
and as she goes
so does Will
Will who?
Will to live, of course
Nin and Will run far away
leaving gaps in the seats of the theater
empty spaces that will be filled
with people clothed in red
wearing masks labeled
happy
love
nice
giving kisses that leave you empty
flowing out into the bedsheets,
the bedsheets that you and Nin used to hide under
when the thunderstorm hit
when the lightning flashed
and you and Nin watched movies
until Will came in and tucked you to sleep
taking Nin with him,
and you would sleep peacefully,
knowing that they are right outside the door

but when you wake up
there is somebody else in your house
in the spaces that should've been filled
they whisper their names,
they could never speak loud enough to be noticed
Mia
Ana
Nia
There will be no more calm in this house
it is filled with the sound of shattering glass
breaking bones and ripped clothes
ring through the shell of a house
the house that once stood tall
now slumps in front of a heavy backpack
not able to be heard or seen

and you wait for the return of Nin
and for Will to make their way back in

and they come back
in the form of a blue pill
oblong in shape, and glimmering in the light
almost as beautiful as Nin was
and the ingredients on it say
Serotonin
just a short vent lol, sorry about being so long, lost track of time
Sippin' on that bar I be a superstar looking a far
Beyond the ******* i spit the hardest in the pit
Leave fools guts open now ya smellin' ****
Vultures peckin' ya skin stuck in this body of sin i sip Gin
Then put my **** in a Hen then back to the den
Rollin' a blunt that's bigger than a bat all of my homies pack gats
Rest in peace to the homies that got hit with the Mack
Yeah ****** up times we living in
In the hood you see more fouls than grins
Unless it's money circling drugs dealin' pigs still squealin'
But **** em i never was a role model
I rather push a Lexus 420 fully loaded on throttle
Money is the ambition bass thumpin' as my lyrics shift
In ya brain like a transmission hittin'
All gears in ya brain my intellect is a threat
That J Edgar Hoover couldn't even get cuz I got a gangsta set
No fakers on my team
Roll with with Dons who sip Dom Perignon by the millions can't trust civilians
Or politicians so I make my commission with a circle of decision
Enemies love dissin' but I see em cuz snakes always hissin' cuz

Ya styles edible my flows incredible like the hulk stalk
Talk **** fools get chalked
Walking down the valley of the
Shadow of death Nia with beer under my breath
Still thuggin' twistin' daytonas or better yet swangaz
Got a coat of rhymes sittin' on a hanger in my mind as I shine
Brighter than the sun the luminous one
Kin to Lucifer he's only one begotten son
Huh 6 carbons 6 protons 6 nuetrons
Together I'll form Voltron turn hard rhymers into vagabonds
Overseas stocks n bonds bringing capitol punishment like Big Pun
My bank rolls swole
Watch out for the rats that love cheese that's why I  feed em lyrical disease
Once the venom in em
They fold like origami once I sound the Tommy
Hidden' in the breast of my Latin mommie
Who is this?? That's the introduction of death
Makin' bodies rock from right to left the one *****
Yo I told yall once more, been braced for war, even the score,
Shots like in da battlefield, high rising feel,  move like an eel, with the steel,
****** face from the Copperfield, let's keep it real, I appeal,
To the masses, check the horror glasses, hits beyond Classics
Cassius, disastrous, yo I'm straight hazardous, flows serious,
Haters tryna serve us, never nervous, keep a maxed out surplus,
Plus I got girls on the bang bus, who could rush us, out touch us,
Yo, I'm flipping birds without touching skies, stay wise,
Vigilant true gangsta militant, stay beyond magnificent,
Got a chase for money Manhattan, see what's happening,
Stay cappin', third ward coast rappin', so quit ya yappin',
Flappin' about nia this is the souf, so watch where ya peck ya mouf,
Haters fronting, and stunting, ain't no future in it, steam out Bennets,
Matrix with the blades, creamed out escalade, soufside fade,
Razor blades, sitting on the side of my gums,under my teef,
Shine up the christ reef, sit like an indian as chef, stress relief,
I'll leave ya stiffer and deader, than the winter leaf, peasants,
Become deaths residence, my gun distance, stay with the quickness,
Answers with the Iversons, yo who's liver sons, step to the don
Yo it's big pun, capital punishment, break the establishment,
Suckas got me bent, never been pent, to a magazine green,
Leaves I fiend, to keep my thoughts clean, no evil supreme,
Catch the dream, shakes from the microphone Hakeem,
Aim at ya peen, see what I mean, scope with the laser beam,
It seems dreams, are shallow I broke the battle, snitches tattle
I make like a snake and rattle, wait for bite pitch the might,
Dolomite any girls without using fright, game latex tight,
Iight, yosef only telling ya truth,no lies see the biblical eyes,
Close with the evil disguise, broke the celibate ties sighs,
Giving by the godly oddly shape my ology, it's my psychology,
Cant stop wont stop, til I'm the cold yard top, giving drops,
Unexpected, ya unprotected once I was resurrected, disconnected,
Off the face of the earth, my birth I knew my infinite worth,
Stay rowdy puff the green, make it cloudy, like chicks bowdy
Howdy howdy, word to this white henny good and plenty,
Sticks to stones break bones, word to the Houdini clones,
Magic I own, phone home sucka you dead amongst the battle zone,

Whaaaaaat!!
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2022
LIMBO -
limbo of the libido:
foul dough. 502 bad gateway bypass.


i'm trying to be sexist, but: there are certain gender realities
(i don't know why i invoke the plural) -
***: what's biological... reproductive...
                       the furthering of the species...
for all the crap that anti-cis propaganda ushers in...
well... hardly: how would homosexual be born?
sure, accepted... how would all the other "freaks"
be born? via the **** or the mouth?
                 silly questions... society has accepted the outliers...
but now they're getting "too proud"...
yesterday my mother asked me on a whim...
she goes to these reflexology appointments...
the reflexologist is a vegan and she made this comment
in passing...
   the cows only produce milk when they're pregnant
and when they give birth...
so my mum asks me...
you're an enlightened man... like your father...
like your grandfather...
       is it possible that cows only produce milk when
they are pregnant?
huh?! don't you milk a cow in the morning and in
the evening... and during the summer you can even
milk her during the day?
***?! so how come we have a constant supply
of milk?! would a cow be holy in India if she only
produced milk when she was impregnated?
   that's ******* vegan talk for you: she has meat and
dairy products on her mind... absolute *******
nonsense... women... the cows are being abused now...
i sometimes wish i could work in a slaughterhouse
just for the kicks... or rather...
i remember this one backlog memory...
   there was a slaughterhouse on the outskirts of
the town where i was born... i saw it being towed in
into it on the back of a truck...
       the mooing this haunts me... it sort of knew it was
entering a slaughterhouse...
     that's almost like when a child was once asked
in a survey... where does milk come from?
milk cartons... hey presto! magic milk!
         god... people are urban-dumb...
                                        some don't even know that
those "yellow things" are... rapeseed oil flowers...
true story... a girl and a mum on the bus in front of me...
we were passing the green belt between Romford
and Mark's Gate / Chadwell Heath on the 66 bus...
the girl asked her mum: mum... what are those...
the mum replies... ahem... yellow things...
woman! they're rapeseeds! they're rapeseed flowers!
you make oil from them! cooking oil!
cows only produce milk when they're pregnant...
******* veganism...
    point being... back in the day when stewards at
football matches... security guards at events were all men...
just like yesterday...
chill day... well... because of bunch of football supporters
only sees men segregating the home fans from
the away fans... they don't see a ***** in the armour
of yellow vests... there's no woman ergo:
there's no weak-spot... oh sure sure... such your average
woman has a black belt in ******* judo...
first comes the optics... later... the physical confrontation...
what she going to do? shout at them?
and it's not like women didn't start wars...
oh Helen oh Joan... no no... peaceful creatures...
coming back in the car yesterday there was only
the four of us... all men... we were all sort of exhausted...
we exchanged... 5 sentences between each other...
the rest of the car journey was spent in comfortable
silence... no woman ergo no agitation...
ergo... no need to compete for attention of
attention-seeking ******... it's that ******* simple...
ol' Ernest Hemmingway was right....
each short-story in his collection: Men without Women
is correct...
it was spectacular yesterday: just guys...
shared banter... even the weakling among us...
Mark... sure... we teased him about dating prospects
with this girl we're working with... teased him...
but at the same time: didn't exclude him from the group...
we were literally working together...
there was no friction... no "alpha beta gamma psi blah blah"
of mating hierarchical status...
and we weren't confronted by the fans...
oh... the worst is working with someone like Jeminah...
the workload becomes a joke...
she is attractive: or rather... was...
today at the supermarket i thought...
   well... if most women find most men disgusting...
ugly... even... let me tell you...
the most unappealing man... in the eyes of another
man? CHARACTER... that man has a lived face...
it's a bit different simply passing someone in the street
and it's a bit different when you start interacting
with someone, see their ****** expression change
from the casual: pedestrian neutral...
   but an ugly man i can stand...
                yet... i also watched the desperate men
coupled with... ahem... ******* GARGOYLES...
no no... there's another word for them...
     Medusa was one of them... GORGONS...
   GARGOYLES GORGONS... same ****... different cover...
how did they ever manage to swing that by?
i wouldn't **** that, let alone reproduce with it...
it just looks ugly on the inside more than
it does on the outside... it looks like a busy-body...
i'm not saying i'm a stunner...
                  but i've had enough rejections to know
that: well... standards are going up...
as well as tax and mortgages and the price of: MILK...
Hindu fuel of life...
         ***** in the armour... i never had such a relaxing
shift... because... again: what is she going to do?
shout at about 20 happy-angry football fans rushing
up to the segregation-line between home fans
and away fans? shout at them: BIG MOMMA style?
that's the excuse Jeminah used when she was
placed on a similar playground at Fulham:
would you talk to your mother like that?
would you talk to your sister like that?
well... double that effort and don't talk to me
like that...                                         ha ha.... ah ha ha...
i just stand there... make concrete eye-contact...
fold my arms around my chest... pump up my back...
smile... last time i checked? no trouble...
but it's ****... absolute ******* working with women...
they disrupt the whole dynamic of a team...
a team of men... why?
if she's attractive enough she'll get asked out by
customers... asked for her number...
she'll start twitching left left left swipe swipe her Tinder
options... it's like working with
an epileptic hamster...
            and it's true what they say...
women are never single... there's always a side "project"...
i don't know... why i like cycling down Mawney Road...
i loved it prior to meeting her...
there are trees either side of the street...
and it's mostly downhill... unless in reverse...
in gear 6 to make more effort therefore uphill...
oh ****... that's her... i saw the dog prior to seeing
her dark ginger-auburn hair...
then again: i think i saw her ginger-auburn hair first...
and...
       she was walking... with the most...
unremarkable man... jeans and a black fleece...
****** dark sort of brown hair: oh no... not raven Turkic...
some ****** brown variation...
but jeans and a black fleece...
                  i'm guessing trainers on his feet...
her ex? her ex-boxing frenzy where she's the cougar
and he's the ****-pants late-stage hard-on
teenager? that sort of dynamic? so... not...
her somewhat contemporary?
     and, mind you: i'm getting these regular anonymous
voicemails... unknown number:
ergo? i don't listen to them...
         at strange times... i saw her walking her dog
and her most unremarkable looking man
side by side at 4pm... i get a voicemail at 4:29pm...
could it be her? i want to doubt it...
i'm not going to listen to it...
    i found a little bit of happiness with a Turkish *******...
i'll settle for that...
like my grandfather used to say:
keep your heart tiny, tiny tiny tiny...
then you'll have people in your grasp...
     i sort of played the game wrong... i wanted to go out
with her... too many girls... involved...
too many counter-narratives... but when the friendship
of her son with the other girl's son was invoked
as if it might be broken: i broke my silence...
and her presto... i get ghosted...
but we live locally... so what is she going to do?
demand i don't cycle down Mawney Road?
she doesn't even live on Mawney Road...
she likes in a cul de sac just off Mawney Road...
she just walks her dog down this street...
perfect timing? ****'s sake...
      yeah: the idea of seeing her walking her dog
and her former ex-boxer... or some new guy...
(boxer in the sense: his greatest opponent was her)...
some Tinder flick...
         it's not like i want to help people like her...
i'd love to be around them to rein them in...
but... obviously... the currency of the current
freedoms... is... unshakeable...
   such an unremarkable looking man...
what a ****** dress sense... so much sloth induced
attire... the **** i wear at home could be better
translated to overcome what he was wearing
in public... then i figured... i smell it...
                                                           ­      it's fear...
it's... a sense of inadequacy... isn't it?
prostitutes don't smell of that... oddly enough...
          and they don't smell it on me...
i'm just a lover-boy... eyes filled with intent: blah blah...
******* with the taboo... i leave the taboos
for strip-clubs... all see but no touch...
yeah... tell me that when i was in one in Athens...
no touch *******... i was so excited rubbing
and hugging at least three: running out of money
that a bouncer escorted me to the nearest cash-machine
while i ****** my trousers and sneaked out...
walking... i was drunk... that's how i navigated
Athens then... i had a honing implant in
my 'ed... 5 miles? however long it was...
       you're going to be spending money on SOMETHING...
anyways... it's not a ******* shortcut...
but at least you'll be getting what you're after
upfront... and it's not like the women are
unwilling... i once had a date with this South African
private school teacher... she tried to cook...
she really protested when i wanted to be involved in
the cooking: can't we? cook, together?
we watched a movie... then went to bed...
oh **** me... not another of these types...
types? ******* cocoon *** types...
ashamed of her body... it's not enough to do it
with the lights off: rather than dimmed...
but... under the bed-sheets...
no again... how she managed to give me a hard-on
i will never know... she must have spiked my drink...
but... the *** under the bedsheets the lights out
is one thing... her... not being exactly creamy-pie?
creamy-pie?! she wasn't wet... she was aroused
but she also wasn't aroused...
she had a thick fat dry load of ******!
how do you describe *** that's quasi-**** but can't
be ****, therefore it's quasi- when a woman's
****** is not wet? when you feel like every stroke
is you: peeling an onion... or getting circumcised?!
i might as well have found a squid's worth of mouth
to explore the deity of *******...
no... no thank you... i don't do inexperienced *****...
it wasn't ****... but...
  if you stretch it... she's still ******* you:
with a dryness of Sahara... you feel you're not plucking
oysters with your tongue...
or poking them with your index...
instead... you're... rubbing sandpaper on the index...
that's not ****? beats me...
what's *** then, "in general"?
   we're calling performing ****: 1st base?!

such a clueless... average looking man...
   sure... she got scared... ha ha:
of the homemade wine and the banana loaf
and the fact that i'm into collecting vinyl...
and that i dress to impress...
     shucks... that sort of hurts...
no wonder i had to turn that "hurt" into
a visit to a brothel... well... at least some women are
still out there: appreciative of my masculinity...
girl-boy girl-girl games can stay
the ******* my radar for as long as possible...
perhaps they will: when i don't hope
to meet her in the geriatric centre for things
all the manner of STALE...
    
oh **** her... her swig at quality on the side while
she goes for something easier, manageable...
the type where she's on top...
ha ha... **** her...
but i'm still going to cycle down that street...
the odd chance i catch her walking her dog...
will these ******* voicemails end?! please!
i'm not going to listen to them!
i'm more of a reader: not a listener...
because i'm guessing, it probably sounds like...
'stop stalking me!'... you what?

we're practically neighbours...
what am i going to do? ******* to the moon?!
you're the one using Tinder to match up
with guys from CALI-FOR-NIA...
******* to California then...
                     i'm not going: anywhere...
this earth gave birth to my psyche from the age
of 8... i was elsewhere prior...
please excuse me...
                                    silly little *****;

i can't stop... such an unremarkable looking man...
sort of... "man"... but obviously she had the upper-hand...
oh i'm guessing that his desperation just:
******* glowed and blinded her with
the advent of issuing power dynamism...
          
     see... fear... is usually coupled with a precursor...
excitement... there's this initial excitement...
but then... a backlog of sensation kicks in...
the 'oh ****' stage... hence the sabotage...
   of a possible relationship...
             but it's so much different with prostitutes...
since... it's Russian roulette gambling...
it's not: betting on horses...
it's better with the weight of your heart and soul...
that's why i like it... too many "fiddly" bits of
conversational ******* before the actual
******* or rather the... what's it called?
the preliminary? whatever it's called...

                        **** it... if Zeus can't wait... to implode
into existence in the realms of men
via a ****** birth... but has to: metaphor himself
into ******* a beauty via (as) a swan...
i'll be at the brothel; i don't have the time,
but more importantly... i'm not always in the mood...
so... woman: more like: LEASH...
patience...
                
        let her walk her dog and her unremarkable looking
man... i bet she can teach the both of them
some good sic 'em lessons;
            i just want to see one of her dogs bark...
TOOSH... obviously the other dog will get a treat and a patting...
because... what? i can't cycle on this street?
ah ha ha... pretty petty whittle moi.
Cette pauvre raison dont l'homme est si jaloux
N'est qu'un pâle flambeau qui jette autour de nous
Une triste et faible lumière ;
Par delà c'est la nuit : le mortel téméraire
Qui veut y pénétrer marche sans savoir où.
Mais ne point profiter de ce bienfait suprême,
Éteindre son esprit, et s'aveugler soi-même,
C'est un autre excès non moins fou.
En Perse il fut jadis deux frères,
Adorant le soleil, suivant l'antique loi.
L'un d'eux, chancelant dans sa foi,
N'estimant rien que ses chimères,
Prétendait méditer, connaître, approfondir
De son dieu la sublime essence ;
Et du matin au soir, afin d'y parvenir,
L'œil toujours attaché sur l'astre qu'il encense ;
Il voulait expliquer le secret de ses feux.
Le pauvre philosophe y perdit les deux yeux ;
Et dès lors du soleil il nia l'existence.
L'autre était crédule et bigot ;
Effrayé du sort de son frère,
Il y vit de l'esprit l'abus trop ordinaire,
Et mit tous ses efforts à devenir un sot.
On vient à bout de tout ; le pauvre solitaire
Avait peu de chemin à faire,
Il fut content de lui bientôt.
Mais, de peur d'offenser l'astre qui nous éclaire
En portant jusqu'à lui des regards indiscrets,
Il se fit un trou sous la terre,
Et condamna ses yeux à ne le voir jamais.
Humains, pauvres humains, jouissez des bienfaits
D'un dieu que vainement la raison veut comprendre,
Mais que l'on voit partout, mais qui parle à nos cœurs.
Sans vouloir deviner ce qu'on ne peut apprendre,
Sans rejeter les dons que sa main sait répandre,
Employons notre esprit à devenir meilleurs.
Nos vertus au très-haut sont le plus digne hommage,
Et l'homme juste est le seul sage.
Ranita Jan 2023
Being wanted
Desired without knowing it
The depth of emotion in it
I want a Cyrano..a Duckie.
The inner workings
Of a man crumbling to pieces
At the sight of a woman he loves

That’s that **** about which I am talking.

I want to be wanted. Including my flaws.
More than words can say.
I wish I could see it in his eyes.

Kiss his face like Amélie
Need him like Nia
Devote my heart and soul to him
…like Ranita


It never was

And it never will be

Enough
Ryan O'Leary Sep 2018
Shakespeare.

For all his auld talk,
sure he never went
anywhere, except,
Denmark and Venice.

Were it not for Whitman,
he'd have never made
it to Paris neither.

Mind you, Branagh and
Stoppard seem to think
that he may have been
      in S-Love-nia ?
George Whitman founded
Shakespeare & Co bookshop
in Paris, where there is now a
food outlet next door called
“ A Moveable Feast “.
This, incidentally, is a title by
Tom Maschler, and not Hemingway
as is commonly assumed.
Jevaugn Oct 2021
222
how i feel right now?
dejected - tip toeing to
where?
i wallow in reflection
riddle pebbles in every direction
disturb placid lakes with intention
i’m a degenerate…
or so my story shows -
malignant magic toss me to and fro
i’m tooth and claw born:
a black rose
raised to be a thorn for the gouge
implored the gorges and found
hollow mounds of sound
empty words compiled like faces
in a crowd  
i’m in a shroud -
humming ghost hymnals
diamond of april in prosaic pose
minstrels -
how i’m bound and crowned
ten toes down
ten middle fingers up
Shin Sūsenju lay hands on a runt

is this what you want?  
am i built to your woes?
fervor to shatter molds
i can’t control
black jade shields my soul
but i still dance with the world
we both in a whirl…
derogatory spirits in my head
my toes curl
involuntary shifts in my bed
my toes furl
restless nights - so i sip the earl
guess i’m grey like mama’s pearls

baby blue world in a swirl
navy blue denim -
legs in a twirl
body immersed in
a dream deferred -
from this curse i emerge
unfurled
from birth i drove the hearse
from birth i drove the hearse

Dear,
sleep with one eye open: i’m a seer
before i ever touched the drugs
i knew the truths and the dares
a reckless ***** for the care
loud deploys of thunderous tokes
i’m eloping with peace through
blunts rolled in hope -
made a bond with a newer self
thinking i was better in health…
in euphoric fog I grew fond
dissipate to city songs
but in smog i loathe like kong
angry, lost, and no nia long -
i can’t give away my heart
baby just come for the ride…
i put it all in the song…
through that water, yea i trogged
in that whip, now i boss
manifest strength in welts from past hands dealt with tongs
i should’ve never…
i should’ve…

baby blue world in a swirl
navy blue denim -
legs in a twirl
body immersed in
a dream deferred -
from this curse i emerge
unfurled
from birth i drove the hearse
from birth i drove the hearse

tryna be the greatest ever
i’m tryna be the greatest ever felt
i was never tryna be the greatest ever
till i lost my pelt
cold with my skin out…
i got my **** out
fear me.. love me.. hate me..
i got my chest out
ain’t **** to this paper
bet i wipe up boogers
till it’s runny south
bronx be the come up -
27 world rings
smell the daises
in a suit oof i’m done up
these ****** allergies
but i’m in them daily till the sun up
i’m just killin my time
got 3hunnid to my name…
make that 270..
feedin my vices with 30 dollar
indo strains
feelings dissapate
lung muscle gains
hear the hustle gland
grab a duffle bag
fillin it with everything i never had
i’m scripting nations and armies
i’m ****** every thing up like
we should’ve had
and when i’m done, *****
it’s a permanent scab
betta feel the reps in my jabs, *****
BLAM

baby blue world in a swirl
navy blue denim -
legs in a twirl
body immersed in
a dream deferred -
from this curse i emerge
unfurled

from birth i drove the hearse

from birth i drove the hearse

i’m the Reaper’s first son
raised in the church
from birth the earth i worked
see it in my blood exposed -
my love
mortal man neva shown
A song.
https://soundcloud.app.goo.gl/o87EqwxLc4L5CzEN9

— The End —