"scrimmage" poems
You seeing me rapping will never happen
Before that I’ll start cappin
Walk off like nothing happened
Since I’ve mastered this art of war
I tend to take things too far
Don’t give a **** who you think you are
Your rap handle doesn’t exist anymore
My rhythms galore, your rhythms manure
Best left in a bag
On your steps
At your front door
Hottest your rap crap will ever get
I’m so polished this is a blemish not a scrimmage
I treat you little *******
Like a teacher’s pet
Up against a Vietnam war vet
Giving you your first shoots
Flipping the script
Double barrel twelve gauge extended clip
Special grip pressed against your lip
Having a hard time talking ****
A pistol whip left your tooth chipped
Fake rappers rapping hard
No street creed; they ain’t legit
This wack imitation ****
Got me ****** off
Don’t get me started
you rip offs should get lost at all cost
dealing with a real boss I can handle a loss
Testing me lyrically, you must be previously ********
Now you are dearly departed
I’m styling on you I’m wilding
Bloodline of Goliath
So go ahead start a riot
With my mic on autopilot
You can get chewed like trident
Eating wack MC’s
essential part of my diet
this ain’t even a battle verse
it’s a gift and a curse
running its course
on my high horse
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC
How can I reach the unreachable..
teach the unteachable who's comprehension is unbelieveable
But the fact is unbelief is more than lack of knowledge..
Cause the truth is even Satan knows who God is..
Is it blindness...
truth on deaf ears..
the embracing of silence..
should there be surpises ..
when behind your eyelids enter a random act of violence..
A vision of darkness ..there's no light that why the pupils dilate the use of the iris..
But when use to darkness and the lights hits one close their eyelids..
I.e. Christ the truth the way the light..
Being unsaved is like living in the womb..
Darkness equivalent to that of a tomb..
Flashes of light is like labor contractions..
The unknown conviction hinting..
Considered a distraction..
Pushed out now watch the eyes reaction..
To the light cause from darkness there's a detachment..
If given a chance a adjustment happens..
An embracement of the light..
A rebirth Christ in action.
How can i reach the unreachable..teach the unteachable ..
With a script the director unknown Its more than the shout of action..
Living life like a movie unaware that the villains not acting..
Now could u imagine..
A movie set full of madness..
All the cast dead like really dead from a stabbing..
No equalizer the villain the only one left standing..
You may say excuse me..
Life is not a movie.
Truly
But a witness not performing there duty..is bystander..
No innocence exist...
No bliss in ignorance...
.Cause we all birth into sin.
So many questions with wrong answers given like the truth don't exist....
How can I reach the unreachable
teach the unteachable
who I tell to this body of Christ they should enlist
But when a pass is given and the shot is missed..
It negates the assist..
A reason for the lost of the game..
The thought of a lost soul has me ******
I'm the point guard I help the scorer sustain..
Chris Paul with rock which is the gospel..
Passing the truth like Paul the apostle ..
Too many people out for a win like Christ didn't settle the score...
Adam severed the relationship but Christ rebuilt the rapport...
I am trying to reach and teach but there's no trust any more...
Pointing u in the direction of accepting the Lord..,
Embrace the word of God that double edge sword..
Them cuts is conviction..
The sword swinging is What it means to be a witness..
Led by the spirit A Christian
Yes we are made in Gods image..
Trying to reach every soul because the wins and losses count..
Life is not a scrimmage..
How can one soul have a blemish..
Only dirt that can touch the soul is the ***** hands of sinning..
How can I reach the unreachable teach the unteachable..Who mistakes knowledge for ignorance...
And reject truth because arrogance..
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 1:26 PM UTC
I keep my head up,
lips snarled and puckered,
teeth show,
nose high,
squinted eyes,
you can see death in them.
I look to the left,
I look to the right,
now it's time to fight,
3-2-1 take flight,
we go all night,
keep my fist packed tight,
and if I lose I'll be back looking through my iron sight.
This is the law of the land,
dog eat dog,
tooth for tooth,
an eye for eye,
kill or be killed,
I'm a killer with a blood instinct.
Came up in the mafia vicinage,
we live life this ain't no scrimmage,
live by Omerta it ain't no image,
living life without problems is a privilege,
when you start talking to cops you finished,
that's how we get down in my evil village,
nothing changed we all living vintage,
I can see you coming in with your gimmick,
don't try to test my limit,
I'm Popeye on steroids and spinach.
Rimani persone reali.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
Hey flossy! Don’t offer this smile anymore
Mysterious smile torments the heart
That smile raises up the thirst.
If you agree to surrender all your mysterious smiles to me
In return I will return your love with the usury of love
And with time’s compound interest rate.
If you turn down to surrender your smile
Then know the consequences of it,
Taking incalculable stars as my co – operator
I will abduct the celestial curve moon on the land.
Hey belle! Don’t turn your face away
Tell me,
You will be the reason of how many wars,
And the cause of scrimmage amongst the juveniles?
If you don’t pay attention to me today
Then know it, You spectacular lady,
In the theater of mysterious smile
I prosecute for the execution
Of your heart snatching smile….
Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 9:12 PM UTC
i can't stop it.
an addiction. i'm an addict.
no self discipline, no control
my hands, my fingers keep returning
and returning on
my chapped lips
it began last week. cold day,
caught a cold. breathing through my mouth.
sick and dry
dry lips.
there's an itch on my finger, i began to touch
my chapped lips
i thought it was a one time thing,
something reversible, something stoppable.
i was wrong, i was dumb, i was so wrong.
when my fingers stopped retaliating the blood,
it, the addiction, turned my teeth onto warriors
on the scrimmage on
my chapped lips
one night, i stopped
in the morning it was worse.
a wound hasn't healed, and another
on top of it. skin and flesh, on a rotating schedule
i'm scared but i don't stop. i'm scared
but my body just turned its back on
my chapped lips.
nothing has changed. blood and wound
scar and then wound,
i haven't stopped. and now i'm not scared.
i thought, i'm good at healing.
so, my chapped lips
will stay. scars may come,
but it's just my lips.
nothing good
has ever touched
my chapped lips.
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 2:13 PM UTC
i.
The sight of it brings back memories of
Your rival team, confronting you on the line of scrimmage,
The rain pouring down, stinging your face,
Your breath misting in the arctic air.
ii.
The smell of it brings you back to that Friday night
When you tripped up the bleachers and
Spilled popcorn all over yourself because
Her red hair and bright smile made you stop in your tracks.
iii.
The clang of the pins against each other
Follows you in the hallway wherever you go,
Reminding you of that triumphant feeling
That took over when your basketball team won districts.
iv.
The warm feeling that fills your heart when
You give it to her, the red-haired bright-smiled girl,
Matches the warm feeling she feels when she
Puts it on, drowning in your scent.
v.
You know that years later, after you’ve left high school
And everything about that place behind,
The sight of that jacket will bring back all the memories
Of football games, Friday nights, championships, and her.
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 5:06 PM UTC
Well, gentlemen, it all came together in the end there as
you will see when you study the game film later on. You
will notice that we controlled the line of scrimmage during
the entire second half, which is what turned the whole thing
around after falling behind. The way that we mixed it up on
offense, there was no telling where we were going to attack
from. That is what we have struggled with all year long. We
have been inconsistent, to say the least. But I’m sure that you
would all agree that we are starting to jell at just the right time.
Now, after a rough start to the season, it’s on to the playoffs.
Now is when we really need to focus, or it will be “one-and-out”
time. I can guarantee you one thing and one thing only. This
club has yet to reach its full potential. If we can just bang on all
four cylinders from here on out, then we might make a pretty
****** good run at this puppy. Frankly, I’m looking forward to
the challenge; I know that our guys are. They’ve worked their
butts off all year long. Forget about the record. I’ve never been
a real big fan of statistics. There are other factors involved at this
point in the season. It’s been a pleasure, folks. It’s been a long
time coming, and I am sure that this will not be our last rodeo.
Or is it last song and dance? Well, you know. We’ve got more
bulls to ride, and this is going to be like the Calgary Stampede
now. It’s time to saddle up and to man up; that’s all. Giddy up.
Punch them doggies and call in the cavalry. We have arrived!
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 4:52 PM UTC
Friends since elementary school
Stuck with me even when I acted like a fool
A soccer star
Beat me in every scrimmage by far
I went to hra
Our friendship turned to grey
Two years pass apart
I figure he had no room left for me in his heart
I miss that laugh and smile
But then I see him at legacy practice and he says "it's been a while"
That night he's in my dreams
We dance forever it seems
I wake up all cheery and glee
I find out that next day, he had dreamed of me
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 3:46 PM UTC
We’re in this,
no limits,
no gimmicks,
no scrimmage,
no sewage,
no sadness,
no losers,
so tragic,
the truth is,
abusers,
abuse but,
their tactics are madness,
so when they step,
we make them back track with,
apologies “So sorry please,
I didn’t mean to try to take,
all of your Light Energy.”,
ok I accept their pleas,
then tell the fickle fleas “Peace,
I think it’s time that all you flee.”,
And their gone,
along the whispers in the wind,
and we’re in the hammock again,
Scarlet and I off the mark and still high,
gone like the wind our world continues to spin,
distracted by our addictions,
which is apparent from the scars I wear on the body I’m currently in,
With red eyes,
no bullseye,
no bullSh!t,
just true facts,
think about the best thing you could ever do in your life,
and rest assured we’ve done are doing or will do that...
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Volume 1
The H Trilogy
City of Angels
I just published a new book.
If you could take a moment to check it out,
and even write a review it'd be most appreciated.
All profits go to a charity that prevents child abuse and ****** assault.
So not only are you getting an epic book of poetry,
but you're also supporting a good cause.
Thank you SO much!
∆
https://www.amazon.com/Trilogy-City-Angels-Aaron-Lux/dp/1535054328
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 10:21 PM UTC
You are...
The epitome of insanity
The goddess of hypocrisy
The rebel of gracility
And the idolater of vanity
The paramount of mistress
The fixative of my embodiment
I am a failed triad of disappointment lacking your physical, emotional and ****** completeness
I'm fueled by love of my adversary's scrimmage
And broken by my lechery
Thus making me facil to your incogent persuasion.
And infatuated by your complimentary image
Though you are the demoralizer of souls
The extension of my patience
By the obscureness of your oomph
Why in the foolery are you the axis of my goals
You're an abhorrent char to my mind
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 6:44 AM UTC
I like to wear tiny shorts
On my big fat ****
And little tiny tops to make
My ***** look big.
But if I catch you staring at me
And ogling my *******
I’ll suddenly get all proper on you
And call you a pig.
Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder
I run with a very different pack.
So don’t come crying on my shoulder.
I’ll tell you to step your *** back.
I love my hair bleached orange
With lots of dark roots.
I keep it long, and badly cut
Then wear a pony tail.
I walk like a linebacker
On the scrimmage line.
I think I look extremely cool
Like I just got out of jail.
Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder
I run with a very different pack.
So don’t come crying on my shoulder.
I’ll tell you to step your *** back.
If I wear a hat it is a stocking cap
And some boots I stole from a boy.
It all goes well with raccoon eyes;
The makeup makes it work.
I am so **** hot that I am sizzling.
If you object you are jealous.
So, I ignore your comments and sneers.
You must be a bunch of jerks.
Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder
I run with a very different pack.
So don’t come crying on my shoulder.
I’ll tell you to step your *** back.
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 5:37 PM UTC
I buried them in a shallow grave
outside the sunroom where their cage hung
rain washed their bones into a deep earth cellar
Where I descend by night with my lone candle
to find them fixed in strata, yet not fixed
scaled claws striking Jurassic dragonflies
*My shadow flickers and dissolves
as I sit at the sunroom desk
Tiny scaled claws strike my head
Pinioned dervishes scold:
My suit of black and white feathers
my smooth hands and my scientist's smirk
my two-finger typing and opposable thumbs
my missing wings and manifesting teeth*
We dinosaurs live on, incantations of ancestral rebirth
templates used, discarded, and used again
as our sphere cycles on, now warming, now cooling
the uniforms change, the costumes evolve
but the sudden-death scrimmage is eternal.
Jul 18, 2012
Jul 18, 2012 at 1:52 PM UTC
I met an angel in church today,
With a heavy heart I sought its eyes.
Somehow it pierced me in every way:
My shattered soul and scornful sighs.
I asked, half teary, half mad and weary,
to it's stone face, marble visage;
Why did just living need be so scary,
Life but a sorry and sober scrimmage?
I begged the angel, still wings and all,
to save me one day, if it could do.
Though I, as human, run short of gall,
Lose hope, and end up praying too.
I met an angel in church today,
Don't know if it heard what I had to say.
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 6:35 AM UTC
In the schisms of light changes,
Between the honking horns of crying babies
And angry mothers,
The cars hunched in anticipation
Like the smoker’s tongue rolling
Against the teeth for that nicotine speed.
A starry-eyed woman blinked with no destination
In her husband’s Bentley.
The rumbling is the crunching grind of helmets
In a pigskin scrimmage.
I can barely stand the
Stop-Go
Inch-Worming
Of brake-lights.
Car’s trembling is the twitching squirrel
Panic-caught in a lightsocket.
Even if the slim traffic-conductor
That burns like plastic on the fire
Yields us through like a coaxing father,
Hollow eyes don’t yield the lethargic feet.
Remnants of the second millenium’s gas-scorn,
Our can-do attitudes goad our chariots to
Hack
And
Spit
Dust-Sludge in gridlocked gossip.
Sep 23, 2011
Sep 23, 2011 at 11:45 PM UTC
It’s the most bountiful time of the year.
All retailers are crowing
The profits are growing
They smile ear-to-ear
It’s their greatest time of the year.
We people are hocking,
To stuff our kids stockings,
Wth jewels we bought all year long.
We want to make sure
That we can insure
We don’t take a parental step wrong.
It’s the bankruptingest time of the year.
No one quite gives a ****
That the whole things a scam
To sell clothing and beer
We go further in debt every year.
We’ll fight to pay rent
Nearly thirty percent
Goes to pay all the interest off.
We take extra jobs
Like all working slobs
All year we don’t dare get a cough.
It’s the most co-dependent of times.
It’s all about image
And holiday scrimmage
As if we’re not a victim of crime.
And pretending we saved one little dime.
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
Gaslight
Deanna Sabou
My sanity was denied when I remained truthful,
And so was my intelligence.
The scars wreak havoc on my body in endlessness.
The bruises were difficult to hide, and so were the tears;
My identity withered away and all that was left were my fears.
The mirror on my wall could not recognize the pale skeletal image,
Because she was so far away and the once golden girl was now conquering a deep scrimmage.
Against all odds, in the end I won;
The roses finally grew from my thorns, and my future has just begun.
For now, you are locked in your own isolated cell;
My scars have recovered and I now wish you well.
You being embarrassed of yourself was quite the rare site,
But now I finally took your opportunity, to ignite the gaslight.
Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 2:09 AM UTC
A young man with a family back home
A wife and a little girl back home
No one cares who he is now
No one will remember him when he is gone
Whether he was a grade “A” student or not
He will be replaced if he falls
He is a solider of America
His unit drives strait into an ambush
His friends killed by his side
Death everywhere he looks
Someone starts to yell fall back
But is stopped in mid-sentence
By a bullet through the heart
Someone manages to spit the words out
Once they finally fall back,
He looks at the ragtag group around him
A man from Georgia
A couple from Tennessee
Their leader didn’t make it
Nor the man who finally yelled fall back
He is the last of the officers
Nothing in his training could have prepared him,
For this
Now not only is his life in his hands
But those around him
He breaks down and cries
An aged man with a family back home
A wife and a little girl back home
Now he is all that stands between home and death
His next move could be his last or his best
He has a choice between life or death
He has a choice between waiting or fighting his way out
Waiting they could be ambushed again and all die
Fighting their way out they could all die
Only seventeen remain
He chooses to fight his way out
They break out the back entrance
Only to find more enemies
After a brief scrimmage they continue adrenalized
They see a Humvee and a troop-transport that look unscathed
He sprints followed closely by his men
Halfway he hears gunfire
His only target is the 50 caliber on the Humvee
Running through bullets and crossfire he makes it
His men low on ammo
His enemies coming by the thousands
He yells to get in as soon as he is shooting
They escape barely losing only one guy
But as their code says,
No man left behind even his body comes
He continues shooting over a hundred yards away
Even though there are no pursuers
He finally climbs back in
He looks over his men checking for wounds
Only to see the color drained from their faces
He begins to see black
He wonders if this is what death feels like
A dying man with a family back home
A wife and a little girl back home
A Purple Heart recipient
A Medal of Honor recipient
A Medal of Valor recipient
A man now decorated with honors
An army veteran with a family back home
A wife and a little girl back home
A survivor of Afghanistan with a family back home
A wife and a little girl
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 7:57 PM UTC
You have made my toss and turn, and fill me with guilt in my dreams and sleep
Slyly whispering in a gentle snare my mistakes that you say define who I am. You allow it to sink in deep
DEVIL STOP HAUNTING ME!!!
You strike me when I am limp and weak, for an easier ****
Repenting over and over again for the fool I am and was, trying to find the path I must fulfill
DEVIL STOP HAUNTING ME!!!
You do all you can to divide and conquer with your snake biting words
I AM SICK of fighting against your lie filled fangs, my past I know you've heard
DEVIL STOP HAUNTING ME!!!
I AM NOT GOING TO QUARREL AROUND IN MY PAST THAT I CAN NOT CHANGE!!!
AND I REFUSE TO KEEP MY EYES TO THE GRAVE YOU SAY IS FOR THE STRANGE
DEVIL STOP HAUNTING ME!!!
You use depression as a shackle on my feet, and use regret as a chain for my wrist
You lock me in the dark to believe that I am alone and convince me that it's the past I miss
DEVIL STOP HAUNTING ME!!!
You try to infest me with your darkness, make me believe that it is my image
You remind me what my flesh desires in a convincing voice that makes me scrimmage
DEVIL STOP HAUNTING ME!!!
YOU DO NOT DEFINE ME!!! THE PAST IS NOT WHO I AM!!!
WHAT I WANT AND DESIRE AND NOT WHAT I NEED!!! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A SCAM!!!
DEVIL STOP HAUNTING ME!!!
You have forgotten that there is still life and light in me, and so have many others
You believed I was contained, but even the Messiah escaped, isn't that such a pother?
DEVIL YOU AND YOUR LIES ARE NOTHING TO ME!!!
THIS FEAR WILL NO LONGER KEEP ME AS A PRISONER!!!
AND YOU WILL NOT KEEP MY LIGHT HIDDEN AWAY THROUGH HIM I AM VICTORIOUS AND A WINNER
DEVIL STOP HAUNTING ME!!!
You can threaten me all you want with your reminders of my mistakes
But I have been given new life, I will not be drowned in your lies that make up your flaming lake
DEVIL STOP HAUNTING ME!!!
You have forgotten that the flame you love hides a light that burns
I can allow it to melt away the things that bring me down... it is now my turn...
My turn to be set free... and my turn to define all odds through Him...
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 6:04 AM UTC
Every Sunday
we watch football together
& while we yell at the plays
I wonder,
when are you gonna let me
gain some yardage on you?
Every Sunday
You yell,
That fool could have scored!
& while I look at you
I say to myself
Yes, you sure could have by now,
but like that quarterback
you move too slow
I wonder,
why are we still playing
on separate teams
when we like the same game?
You’re such a fool
If only you knew
how badly
I'd like to tackle you
& convert these last 2 points
by letting you hang
Between my goal posts
rush my endzone
and make the best
touchdown of your life
Tell me,
Can we huddle?
Can we discuss
this repetitive play
we keep pretending
we aren't playing?
Meet me at the
50 yard line
Of your bed
Let's scrimmage
man
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 7:08 PM UTC
Fathers are wonderful people
Too little understood,
And we do not sing their praises
As often as we should...
For, somehow, Father seems to be
The man who pays the bills,
While Mother binds up little hurts
And nurses all our ills...
And Father struggles daily
To live up to 'his image'
As protector and provider
And 'hero of the scrimmage'...
And perhaps that is the reason
We sometimes get the notion,
That Fathers are not subject
To the thing we call emotion,
But if you look inside Dad's heart,
Where no one else can see
You'll find he's sentimental
And as 'soft' as he can be...
But he's so busy every day
In the gruelling race of life,
He leaves the sentimental stuff
To his partner and his wife...
But Fathers are just wonderful
In a million different ways,
And they merit loving compliments
And accolades of praise,
For the only reason Dad aspires
To fortune and success
Is to make the family proud of him
And to bring them happiness...
And like Our Heavenly Father,
He's a guardian and a guide,
Someone that we can count on
To be always on our side.
(Helen Steiner Rice)
አባቶች ግሩም ሰዎች ናቸው
አባቶች ግሩም ሰዎች ናቸው ፣
ምንም እንኳ ባይታደሉም በደንብ የሚረዳቸው
የሚገባቸውን ምስጋና፣
በስፋት አልዘመርንም ገና!
ምክንያቱም አባታችን
የወጪያችን ሽፋን ሆኖ
ስለሚሳል በእይታችን፣
በአንፃሩ እናታችን
ሐኪም የቁስላችን
ለሷ ህመማችን ነው የጋራችን፡፡
ቆፍጣና፣ የተንከባካቢነት፣ የአስተዳዳሪነት
ብሎም የችግር ፍቺነት ተግባር
ለማስጠበቅ የሚጥር ዘወትር
ለዚህ ይሆን ምናልባት
አባቶች ተገዢ የማይመስሉን ለስሜት?
ግን የአባባን ልብ ብታዩት
ባትታደሉም ያን ለማየት
ታስተውሉ ነበር በውነት
ያቺን ቡብነት የሚያምሳትን
የልቡን ስሱነት!
በሥራ ከመጠመድ ነው
በዚህ አታካቹ ሩጫ የህይወት
ጉዳዮችን የስሜታዊነት
ለውሀ አጣጩ ለሚስቱ የሚተውላት!
ግን አባቶች በጣም ግሩሞች ናቸው
በሚሊዮን መንገድ
የፍቅር ምላሽ ምስጋና የሚገባቸው
ብቸኛው ምክንያት፣ አባባ ሁሌ የሚሯሯጠው
ቤተሰቡን ለማስደሰት ለማኩራት ነው
ልክ እንደሰማዩ አባታችንሁሌ ያለ ከጎናችን
ነው መከታችን
በሄለን ስቲነር ትርጉም ዓለም ኃይሉ
Jun 22, 2020
Jun 22, 2020 at 2:02 AM UTC
Fathers are wonderful people
Too little understood,
And we do not sing their praises
As often as we should...
For, somehow, Father seems to be
The man who pays the bills,
While Mother binds up little hurts
And nurses all our ills...
And Father struggles daily
To live up to 'his image'
As protector and provider
And 'hero of the scrimmage'...
And perhaps that is the reason
We sometimes get the notion,
That Fathers are not subject
To the thing we call emotion,
But if you look inside Dad's heart,
Where no one else can see
You'll find he's sentimental
And as 'soft' as he can be...
But he's so busy every day
In the gruelling race of life,
He leaves the sentimental stuff
To his partner and his wife...
But Fathers are just wonderful
In a million different ways,
And they merit loving compliments
And accolades of praise,
For the only reason Dad aspires
To fortune and success
Is to make the family proud of him
And to bring them happiness...
And like Our Heavenly Father,
He's a guardian and a guide,
Someone that we can count on
To be always on our side.
(Helen Steiner Rice)
አባቶች ግሩም ሰዎች ናቸው
አባቶች ግሩም ሰዎች ናቸው ፣
ምንም እንኳ ባይታደሉም በደንብ የሚረዳቸው
የሚገባቸውን ምስጋና፣
በስፋት አልዘመርንም ገና!
ምክንያቱም አባታችን
የወጪያችን ሽፋን ሆኖ
ስለሚሳል በእይታችን፣
በአንፃሩ እናታችን
ሐኪም የቁስላችን
ለሷ ህመማችን ነው የጋራችን፡፡
ቆፍጣና፣ የተንከባካቢነት፣ የአስተዳዳሪነት
ብሎም የችግር ፍቺነት ተግባር
ለማስጠበቅ የሚጥር ዘወትር
ለዚህ ይሆን ምናልባት
አባቶች ተገዢ የማይመስሉን ለስሜት
ግን የአባባን ልብ ብታዩት
ባትታደሉም ያን ለማየት
ታስተውሉ ነበር በውነት
ያቺን ቡብነት የሚያምሳትን
የልቡን ስሱነት!
በሥራ ከመጠመድ ነው
በዚህ አታካቹ ሩጫ የህይወት
ጉዳዮችን የስሜታዊነት
ለውሀ አጣጩ ለሚስቱ የሚተውላት!
ግን አባቶች በጣም ግሩሞች ናቸው
በሚሊዮን መንገድ
የፍቅር ምላሽ ምስጋና የሚገባቸው
ብቸኛው ምክንያት፣ አባባ ሁሌ የሚሯሯጠው
ቤተሰቡን ለማስደሰት ለማኩራት ነው
ልክ እንደሰማዩ አባታችን
ሁሌ ያለ ከጎናችን
ነው መከታችን
በሄለን ስቲነር ትርጉም ዓለም ኃይሉ
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 6:34 AM UTC
Hidden meanings foreshadow the gradient eminence off campus,
Stampless letters to be sent to thine dearest of ones!! Mother's hold thy daughter's, for you've lost your youngest son!!!!
Extensive Colgate frames to cover thy soulgaited plains,
Where fewest of animals hath roamed!!
Your caught in scrimmage,
Still Soo unsure if your found or lost at home!!!
Paceth back to and forth as far as thy walls will take you,
Where reprobate minds will break you,
Where loan sharks will rewrite tunes,
Sharking is their key to Finnish game!!!
They feeleth no Elysium,
Their one to thy flame!!!!!
Trilateral thinking freely turns negative,
Primitive to all known consistencies,
Bleeding at thy gums?
Third world indecently!!!
Misconstrue thine own miserly pull,
Galoot of what's not thine own!!!!!
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 1:17 PM UTC
You're fast
And brainy
The same age
You seem preoccupied
And don't respond
To question
Now and then
You'll swing
A cat
Trudging along
A line of scrimmage
Some kind of astonishment
Old fashioned
And furious
You come out
Of that line
Charging
In all directions
A shift glance
To get some sense
And controversy
A dash of wit
Is there such thing
As a curve ball?
Would you lose
Interest
If I told you,
No?
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 9:31 AM UTC
*Holding her hand , walking on the streets.
Realizing the life in those skipped heartbeats.
Exuding the attar, she dulled my senses.
Tremulous tattered talks due to spooking menaces.
Then she talked in her asthenic voice.
And suddenly everything was just background noise.
All I could do was , stare in her eyes.
And I glimpsed into her soul beyond visible lies.
She was the configuration of pain and hope.
Inside, she was in a scrimmage and clinging with a mope.
Zealously & tenacious , inside , she was a fighter.
I hankered to describe her beauty in my words, as a writer.
But to describe such aesthetical effigy I constellated nothing, not even a single word.
I was stupefyingly stuck , like a fallen wingless bird*.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 6:00 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Planes don’t just fall from the sky
There’s always a reason why
Mechanical failure might apply
Or sabotage they will deny
But the truth will soon emerge
The very thing they want to purge
Sabotage is bad for business
And we know that they do get this
For Russians it‘s hard to take
Coming home from Sharm el-Sheikh
That a bomb ISIS did make
Could cause them that much heartache
But no matter what you say
They’re gonna make somebody pay
Cuz it can’t go down that way
So rest assured they will convey
Strong outrage and dissatisfaction
Against the ones who took that action
And their ire’s gaining traction
Soon we’ll all see their reaction
A lot of blood is gonna spill
Now that they will wanna ****
Those who wished them such ill will
So for ISIS it’s all down hill
ISIS had better eat their spinach
Cuz by the time the Russians finish
They will clearly be diminished
Beaten at the line of scrimmage
One shouldn’t target a non-combatant
But that’s clearly is what happened
And it fits their usual pattern
So look for ISIS to be flatterned
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015. All rights reserved.
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 9:36 PM UTC