"segregated" poems
It's a **** shame.. These girls are so different yet they are the same.. A figment of imagination .. To draw a line in the divine pigment and foundation.. 2 Queens in the same race.. In the same race.. Can't get along because of the tone on their face... Whatever the case I wish you all could get first place.. Don't let the color of your skin have you unfit within... I wish I could undraw that a line with the pen.. Of self hate that they handed us.. We didn't wanna hate eachother they demanded us... These skin tones... They tore us apart from the field to the kitchen.. Enough of the ******** & ******* QUEENS PRAISE QUEENS!!!!! And that final.. Instead of making enemies.. Make yourself someone's idol... Don't let this world segregate a segregated being.. I'm dedicating this to you.. Every dark skinned & light skinned Queen... ONE LOVE...
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
Amidst the excitement
over disabling drinks and drugs
and hasty hook ups
there is a silence that exists
because nobody talks.
Nobody talks.
Demons fill the air
intoxicating your emotions
and you're alone.
Parties shouldn't be lonely,
should they?
There are masked people
segregated
except for one girl
whose face shines
the mask blocking her light
like an eclipse.
And she's not here.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
First there is the prep.
The roommate.
Wearing salmon colored pants.
He has Shaggy from Scooby Doo
On his left thigh.
The alcoholic.
She has a drinking problem.
She is in denial of her drinking problem.
She hangs out with the loners.
The loners.
Unkempt, unattractive and fat in all the wrong places.
The blond looks like Tom Petty.
The one with dark hair, glasses and braces
They live next door.
Living together but segregated.
Wild cards.
All of us.
©Gambit '13
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 9:10 AM UTC
I see the older generations say
“I miss the good ole days”
“I miss the America I grew up in”
Do they fail to realize that their generation did this?
Their generation ruined the economy
Their generation poisoned the earth
Their generation drained the Earth of her resources
Their generation segregated people of color
Their generation disowns their children for being gay
Their generation is full of hate
But go on, please,
tell me how my generation is ruining the world.
My generation who is chanting Black Lives Mater
My generation who is trying to reduce their plastic usage
My generation who is fighting for LGBT+ rights
My generation who is fighting for women to have the right to their body
My generation who is still in school
My generation who is mentally unstable
But still is trying to make things right.
My generation is doing the things their generation failed to.
Their generation had their time, and they failed their children
Their grandchildren
So now it’s time for a new generation
My generation
Jul 25, 2020
Jul 25, 2020 at 9:38 AM UTC
Black Like me, I clearly see, I am no longer who I used to be
I am a white man died dark, in this adventure I created a spark.
People are angry. People are mad. This makes me disappointed, and sad
I did this for research, to find the truth. For our future, for our youth.
I’m a white man living the life of the oppressed, the segregated, and distressed.
A white man living the life of the black, and the truth is equality it did lack
It was shocking to find people cruel, who I once knew to be kind
They hated me because the color of my skin, their argument against my race was just as thin.
They made assumptions, followed the stereo type, dear God America, where are my equal rights?
I traveled to the most racist state, where I experienced as a black man, a fiery hate.
I found the idea that the South created: We are unequal, unloved, and passionately hated.
They stared us down with hate we could feel. It was tangible, it was real.
The kind hearted were few and far, I learned much while hitching rides in cars
I could not believe what they share so openly, they spoke of their ****** immorality.
At this point I was feeling defeated, I was sick of how we are treated
I could not take it any longer, but I know I have become stronger.
I will fight against segregation, so we can truly become an equal nation
I hope for the sake of these great people that one day we will all be equal.
No one knows what it’s like to be black like me. I hope one day we’ll find true liberty!
May 18, 2012
May 18, 2012 at 4:06 PM UTC
the dutch colony ascended on our shores
replacing traditional african education on culture
with teaching slaves how to pray
we saw the deterioration of black schools
and state-mandated segregated curricula
whites being taught better than blacks
who was only destined for subservient jobs
policies of apartheid birthed the bantu education
and later forced us to learn languages
which was not our native tongue
the youth could no longer be silenced
soweto uprising saw them dying for the cause
we have protested throughout the decades
silenced by the apartheid government
simply ignored
with Mandela’s release we saw liberation, freedom, democracy
and a single education system, we were finally equal
however the legacy of black inferior education left a deep scar
which has still not healed
our parents not able to give us the education they were denied
now students are holding the government accountable
who promised free education for a vote
the movement trending as #feesmustfall
anger expressed by burning premises, striking and rioting
i believe in the cause but who are you really hurting?
why destroy the very universities that you are fighting for?
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 5:17 PM UTC
Head exploding
life seems too fast
to find out what I'm thinking
I wonder if my strength
is going to last.
I crawled into bed
with you last night
first time in years
we've been segregated
by my exhaustion
and my fears.
To feel your flesh again
made my headache worth it
but nothing will take away
the ache that I feel
for the love of myself.
Self acceptance is what I need
I'm better than I thought
but the lingering mistrust
of how I'm going to be
scuppers me at every turn.
If I could just relax
on the inside
and let my self be happy
I think I would be happier.
Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 5:12 AM UTC
Papers are flimsy, fragile
so susceptible to time
and harsher climates.
Scissors cut and divide
thriving on irreparable separation
to leave us in pieces and scattered.
Rocks are rough and tough
facing--and looking--the worst
while enduring every day and night to come.
My choice resides amongst the stones
constant, long-lasting, dependable
in the challenges that may have others call
for support when they can't stand alone
for maybe the times they lived were too much, too long
after facing the blades which cut them into small, segregated fragments.
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 10:47 PM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
I'll never have a dance with a girl that I've
Had my eye on since the first day,
I'll never see the neon lights and all ball room
Fights they like to have in these good days,
There's more to being a boy sitting all alone
And never being on the dancefloor,
But do I give a **** about all those things I'll
Never get to explore....
At Senior Prom,
At Senior Prom,
At Senior Prom.....
So when I hear them talk about the life I've always lost about
What to wear and what car to drive,
Or if I say I never wanted the same to go through what every generation
Has to go through they'll step on my pride,
Ain't the **** supposed to be segregated away,
Don't wanna live in reality,everything is just a phase,
What if I gave all of my time and never let it go to waste,
It's funny how life works , nobody will dance with me anyway,
At Senior Prom,
At Senior Prom,
At Senior Prom.
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 10:07 AM UTC
Segregated.
Locked down and secure.
In protective custody over you.
And, they claim my love is the evidence to convict.
And I can't say it don't make sense.
Cause it's true.
I'll serve my time quietly.
While being in the custody of you.
You can guard me twenty four seven.
You're my angel of love sent from heaven.
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 6:19 PM UTC
you were just one man.
jailed for infinity.
you never bent.
stronger than steel.
oppressed from day one.
segregated by your skin.
you were never broken.
stronger than steel.
the odds were against you.
against your entire race.
your faith never wavered.
stronger than steel.
i walked where you laid.
where you eat, where you ran.
your land gave me strength.
stronger than steel.
your love was so unending.
your hate, no where to be found.
you saved a who nation.
stronger than steel.
Madiba. Madiba.
Nelson Mandela
the original superman.
Stronger then Steel.
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 1:06 AM UTC
His father reminded him of the giddy times,
As if he forgot them.
He does this habitually,
Implying that a lot has changed.
Of course, because today isn't yesterday
And the present isn't the past.
He wishes it was like before.
He can't recognize his son
As if he's wearing a mask.
Grew through adolescence without him
As he put on his mask.
He can't recognize him,
But he'll continue to remind him
That they are
Growing distant,
Without being literally far away,
It seems like it though.
Separated like fission,
And the miles grow and grow.
The true colors faded,
After they were shown.
The underlying tone of it all,
Segregated by a labyrinth of walls.
While we were wearing masks
We couldn't recognize each other,
While we were wearing masks
We couldn't recognize each other anymore.
Growing distant,
Without being literally far away,
It seems like it though.
Separated like fission,
And the miles grow and grow.
He remembers the connection he had with her,
As if she forgot about it.
He speaks of how spending time with her elated him,
Implying that he misses her.
Of course today isn't yesterday
And the present isn't the past,
But he wishes it was like before,
So he asks if they could return to what they once were,
He asks if they could return to what they once were.
They're growing distant
Without being literally far away,
It seems like it though.
Separated like fission,
And the miles grow and grow.
Separated like fission,
And the miles grow and grow,
The miles grow and grow.
It seems like it though.
Growing distant,
And the miles grow and grow,
The miles grow and grow,
Growing distant.
(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith
(Originally written 12/1/10,
Revised 9/23/14)
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
Imagine a warehouse of apples with their individual conciousness.
They are labelled and categorised.
They are segregated.
The apples are gathered and put into boxes marked
by what they want to be known by,
their commonality/mentality.
If a bushel of apples are a stigma, they are put into boxes marked by what the other apples tag them by.
In a self-marked box, by the name of “surat zayifa” an apple lays at the juncture of the pyramid of analogous red,
maggots eating away at it’s heart.
The apple turned crimson hued to an evangelist blood maroon. Smouldering; festering like an open wound.
A stinging aura besieged it,
suffocating the air like sharpnel stuck in the throat.
The apple, consumed by a dark resurgence and a devilish resolve,
spoke in tongues of the serpent and supplanted seeds of pestilence in the hearts of the apples who joined his brooding virtue.
A collective conciousness was supplanted among the fruit,
imprinted with the face of death.
The world of apples, thrive on each other and face the forebodings of life together in spite of their marked differences in a state of throbbing dependancy.
The apples feed on the apples.
Another self-marked box, by the name of “khalas” were set to consume the apples from “surat zayifa” to continue finity,
unwary of their poisoned souls.
The apples fed on the apples and almost every other apple rotted and perished.
The apples that survived were the ones who consumed the apples unblemished in spirit.
All the others apples from all the other boxes blamed “surat zayifa” as a whole.
Even the apples purest, were tainted by the sins of the other apples,
the ones to take the blame for the misdeed of their creed.
The box was now marked in disgrace, a vehemence, a scourge.
The last remaining poisoned apple that was set to perish from “khalas” did something morally unhinging before it’s spirit departed;
the apple smeared it’s tan blood with words on the cardboard and dropped dead.
The singular light bulb flickered, the pulse strained.
Everything fell silent.
The words read “ We are ourselves. We **** ourselves.”
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 1:17 AM UTC
She spends most of her days in doldrums,
always segregated from the whole crowd.
Everyone uses her acts and games against her.
It seemed like a game and they liked it.
But now it is toture,
she is being bullied
she fears coming to school,
she fails to catch some sleep at now,
their words keep ringing in her ears at night.
Today in the morning it was her shoe lace,
after assisting them
the only thanks they give is by making her feel misrable.
Now this afternoon she is crying,
and it all seems like a joke to them.
"Nomathemba help me with Accounting !"
they call out everyday.
After her help they become ironic,
"she is a distinction student".
They make her feel belittled.
"Dont worry you will be Accountant one day...
Because Accountants are greedy too"
i am not willing to support them,
their games are surely bad.
She fails to laugh,
nor smile,
her heart filled with pain.
She is a victim of emotional abuse,
and am the only one who seems to care.
What happened to the unity amongst us?
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 8:08 AM UTC
I grew up knowing to accept hate
It was a childhood version of how to segregate
Children were never kind to me through the years
Forming more hate that built up and filled with fears
I was lucky compared to most kids though
I never had a true taste of hate I had yet to know
In the past kids were segregated for their race
It was as if this entire world bashed them for taking up some space
The entire nation was once split in two
Brother after brother is something we all knew
The north and south each all fighting for something not alike
But that only made the hope of happiness winning to begin to spike
A great man stood in the great battle field between us all
Un-segregating those who needed it afterall
He was shot dead fighting for what he wanted
Some people really didn't know his hopes and they felt daunted
Today we fight another battlefield of pain
Thought must of this fighting is in vain
A man took the lives of many Americans twelve years ago
Destroyed the very being of America that we used to know
When the depression ran throught the nation
We still had to deal with all of the segregation
It ran through all of us as people living in peace
Chopping us up as humans without need piece by piece
Another war is in sight though we choose not to see it
A fatal blow to many of us as if we got hardly hit
Seperation throught the nation through segregation in our own eye
Whether we be gay, straight, trans, or even bi
We're all still people and still human
If only we truly knew about it then
I grew up in a world free of most types of hate
But we all knew we all live in a world who chooses to segregate
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 8:45 AM UTC
Protest it.
Unless you employed by the government.
Rules are totally different.
If officers violate the laws they serving to protect us.
Stand up for your rights to protest.
We in America not one of that dictatorship country.
Why?
Do people feel athletes can't protest?
They go on strike for various things not right to them.
Not one stated the protesting the anthem.
Not one.
They protesting injustice.
And rightly so.
So fans are mad than many probably never saw the youth that protested in the sixties against a war.
Whether you agree or don't.
Always stand up for your rights.
So a so-called billionaire never paid taxes and won't reveal his income tax forms using idle threats.
The only one filling the role of kiss-up is the owners.
Without comprehending, if there is a sporting showdown the most likely won't win.
Most likely to be the losers when Coke, Pepsi, Nike, Papa John and host of others clients profits fall.
A business suffers highly when there no solution solved.
Most fans that go to a sporting event are a great majority of whites and be the ones crying the louder.
If ever done wrong and need attention to get people on board.
You protest, you stand up and stand out.
A small church pastor rose to be great by taking on a segregated system.
The only one mad about tearing segregation is who?
The race need not be mention for a majority hardly stand up for anything.
Well, unless it's the NRA.
Even with violence in school from high powered weapons.
There they go defending the NRA.
And the weapons they protesting against isn't truly needed unless you at war.
But they standing up for their rights.
So players, stand up for your rights.
For CBS/ESPN/ABC/NBC stands to lose too.
If a majority of players stand strong against wrong.
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 11:45 PM UTC
I am angry
Anger is the root of not getting what you want and I really want my people to progress but there just seems to be so much distress that is plaguing my people
I am angry
Angry because education isn't valued
I mean we used to fight to try to read and write but now I see kids that can't even read or just don't want to
My great grandfather traveled four states with a family to find a decent education when we were even allowed to be educated
Where has that audacity gone
My grandfather was a principle
My daddy went to a segregated school and has his phd cuz he values education
I am angry
Angry when I see my beautiful black sistahs not valuing themselves because they think they aren't valuable cuz there daddy isn't there
But that's called an excuse to live a life that is bound by low self-esteem
I am angry
Angry when I see my brothas on these corners knowing they are smart enough to do something better
Mystical weather conjuring to be a constipation storm cuz everything is backed up
We can push through for a release
So I am angry
Angry that my people aren't seeing that something jus ain't right
We aren't owed anything
We do have something to bring to the table
But we are so angry about all the oppression
And once we got free we took to for granted
So I am angry...what are u?!
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 2:51 PM UTC
*to further my point, as an eager reader in
a catholic school, reading about
the gnostic heretics, wondering
with my theology tutor upon the question
asked: don't you think the gnostic heretics
influenced mohammad on the sly?
i mean, they too believed a phantom walked
among men, and a phantom was crucified?*
my confirmation didn't take place
in a cathedral, as was due course for all of
us in being schooled, by a bishop
in brentwood cathedral,
i opted out... my confirmation came
in a russian orthodox cathedral,
in st. petersburg, when i watched
people standing for a scrap of iconoclasm,
with the priest mumbling
toward a golden altar, as typical in
the tradition, buttocks towards the people
or as in the western tradition
reciting in latin, before the nationalists
came and spoke the gospel in each
designated tongue so people understood,
a bit like having your back turned
against the people - speaking in latin -
and when i sat i the church
to listen to the choir singing,
some lesser ecclesiastical prompted me
to stand up, and pay respect to the golden
altar... he told me to stand up!
what cheek... what barbarism... only
in russia... i had to stop being bewildered
by the beauty of song and listen to
a priest knock-down-ginger on a palette of
gold... THEN i was confirmed...
donkey's ******** to this **** i'm leaving!
mind the fact that i've seen the greatest
degradation of mysticism take place...
the tetragrammaton was being defiled all along...
in catholic bureaucracy it has been there all along,
the idiots reminded me of it...
you're born: first name, baptismal name, surname...
you're educated: confirmation name...
that takes four spaces of consideration...
so by catholic definition of sharpening pencils,
folding pieces of paper, filing the folded pieces
of paper, bending paper-clips i'm god...
but only in writing... first name, baptismal name,
confirmation name, surname...
a bit like a clone... a clone indeed in writing...
same d.n.a., same bone mandibles of the jaw...
but experience-wise... un-original to the ****
not even a clone... not able to experience major
historical figures... a soul in a twin body by itself...
a twin without twinning, segregated by ulterior
if not auxiliary motives... clone on paper...
clone by experience? i don't think so... impossible...
too many inter-actants along the way
can't possibly replicate thinking in a clone...
different mr. john smith... NEXT!
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 2:18 AM UTC
*"As the same fire assumes different shapes
When it consumes objects differing in shape,
So does the one Self take the shape
Of every creature in whom he is present."*
(Katha Upanishad II.2.9)
*"As the rivers flowing east and west
Merge in the sea and become one with it,
Forgetting they were separate rivers,
So do all creatures lose their separateness
When they merge at last into pure Being.
There is nothing that does not come from him.
Of everything he is the inmost Self.
He is the truth; he is the Self supreme.
You are that Shvetaketu, you are that."*
(Chandogya Upanishad IV.10.1-3)
*I don't understand,
Why, in this land,*
Where these sacred
scriptures were written,
Were so many religions born--
*I don't understand,
How, in this land,*
Were differences encouraged,
When the backbone of all life
Always was recognized as liberation--
The acknowledgement
Of all different religions, castes, creeds,
Really broke the deal you know...
Imagine, if all the cultures were mixed
Instead of being separated, unconnected, segregated;
And churned into a liberal philosophy
The Philosophy of Liberation (read: Moksha)
We'd have prevented so many wars,
All fought under the cloak of differences and disparities;
We could have averted
So much bloodshed,
So many innocent screams--
And these shudders down your spine right now?
They would be the product of fiction;
Not the echoes of cruel reality...
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 2:58 AM UTC
I decided I'm goin in.
Yall dun' slipped up and left me with a pen.
It seems lately I been under-drinkin'
Over-sober over-contemplating what's been really happening.
I'm usually a lot more subtle.
I give the benefit of the doubt like I'm a Catholic priest absolving niggas' sins.
Confusing my honesty for reckless abandon-in
To your chagrin, just hecause you're unable to comprehend.
You don't move through this world in the shoes I'm in.
I bet no ones ever called you a sub-human.
Did that election make YOU question all your caucasian friends? Their motives, their thoughts, biases,
Lookin for Microaggressions?
Now those relationships are withered at the ends and it depends on larger hearts and open minds to try and mend and re-begin?
Because someone you love insulted ALL your kin.
Supporting someone who blatantly hates them.
Tunnel vision.Could only see what they wanted Sanctity of life only applies to babies aborted
Christians were thwarted!
How someone with a thumbs up from the Ku Klux have anything to do with what the Lord did?!
Granted, the deed is done and hey the truth is out!
They were wolves in sheep's clothes till the Pres. Came out
in broad daylight
He basically made it awright
to grossly generalize a race AND do so in plain sight
Now ALL the racist crazy folk are poppin at the mouth.
On social media like the 50's in the segregated south,
Spewing hate behind a screename sittin' on they mama's couch
'cept we millenials are rowdy and we'll roll up at yo house.
How's it 2017 and we still schoolin' folk?
Gotta tell you Black lives matter cause you actin like we dont.
In retrospect, it was for the best cause now we ALL woke!
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 1:57 AM UTC
Always it does,
But I can't shiver,
Coldest in the river,
Deathly river of tears,
Excruciating is the pain,
Filthy salty water it flows,
Grandiose in society kills me,
Hefty personal problems prey,
I can't swallow so I don't eat any,
****** of ego I turn into since long,
Killed me multiple times in a go daily,
Lovelorn I die each moment I try to cry,
Mouthful of unfriendly words help me die,
Name of mine means incomparable literally,
Ostensible concept of love entices me so much,
Put me in a jail and stuff me behind the bars now,
Quailing me is the loneliness that has been forever,
Ruling out few occasions of company I stay so aloof,
Sparing some days of happiness most are depressing,
Toying with my own heart I feel my heart is hydrogen,
Unattractive it is not & it could not stay segregated ever,
Volumes of my voice have died out & so has my hearing,
Wailing deep in my heart I let this sorrow seep in to sink,
Xenophobic I ain't but of course I dislike enemies of love,
Yucky thoughts of people assassinated my love last night,
Zeroed in on the catalyst -strange enough- she herself is it.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 1:00 AM UTC
Beauty found in imperfection
Disdain sometimes found in a reflection,
Often segregated into their own section,
Behind these defects
Many are afraid to mention
The attraction they possess
Even under the skin.
Deep in the mind,
One may yet find
A heart yet to be signed,
Sealed or delivered.
One can only hope this tree of life within
Does not end up withered.
One with the eyes of a wise man
Is where the beauty lies,
One with the eyes of a bigot
May one day behold a surprise.
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 5:00 PM UTC
We are not the voice to elect a king
We are anonymous
I am not the one you want to convene because I question everything
I am just a voice of honesty as degenerates overtake my home
Life in the wake of calamity cast on a pile of bones
It’s the new order of the ages, welcome to the end of days
The beast controls our lives impeding our ability to thrive
induced into a system designed for wealth, power, and lies
A price is paid for not conceding to an affirmation worth repeating
as I join the enlightened ones and wage a massive war
A circularity that deviates from its path is not a circle anymore
They will invoke internal and external threats
then establish many secret prisons
Slowly restricting the freedom of the
Press while surveying ordinary citizens
Chem-trails from government jets
will be dismissed as urban legends
Mandatory vaccinations
designed to lower urban intelligence
Radio-frequency identification chips
mandatory for men, women, and children
Man-made global pandemics
separated for segregated sterilization
Espionage becomes the new word for criticism
And dissent will be the new word for treason
In the name of self-preservation
they will subvert the rule of law
We are broken beyond repair, slaves for all we have
As they divide our families, we ignore another false flag
As history repeats, we are kept under control
But we are not the voices to elect a king
because we are anonymous
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 4:07 AM UTC
Thoughts and beliefs bubbling in my head
Yet when the nozzle opens
The water remains stagnant
The chute blocked by a language barrier
An English lad and a French Claire
Both hearts galloped in stampede
The two magnets draw in spontaneously
But does love exist from the front cover alone?
The vast terra firma
Perforated in years time
Earth plates sever the one masterpiece into pieces
The scraps bounded by a shimmering blue frame
Engineering, Psychology, and Humanities
All in uniform language
But still segregated
Even with a paint degree
Does the artist know what note the musician is playing?
A gallant soldier
Survived the war of “learn how to speak German”
Two languages under the belt, but 6,498 to go
Illustrious pride stifled into humility
Will there ever be a language compromise?
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 11:33 PM UTC
Astonishingly! This poetry analogy is partially of a prodigy poet! It is of his endearment and endeavorment in our great Government that desecrated, medicated, sedated and segregated him. Doped! Desperately copping and hoping he made it! To add, no dad! An artistically rad-lad through the bad, the glad, the sad and mad. This destiny of a poet is also of apologies, felonies, formalities, legalities and theories.
Furthermore it’s of mournful and scornful-laughter! Capture and rapture, dreamingly and seemingly, chapter after chapter... Pondering and wondering is there a happily ever after? This destiny of a poet is heavenly, randomly and religiously, tellingly of lots of many thoughts! Some adventuresome, awesome, burdensome, fearsome and gruesome! Some loathsome, lonesome and wholesome!
Some of dreams, schemes and many themes! Some deemed and seemed differently, discriminately, indecently or racially true, from some views. Some askew and blue! Some of clues, of Jews, of taboo, tattoos and voodoo! This destiny of a poet; stunningly who could’ve and would’ve thought once, twice or thrice of this price? Of the cheers and peers, the jeers, the leers,
the tears and weary years... Therefore I say, some artist’s
clever art may create, dictate, relate and translate similar-thriller craftsmanship with negative, positive or relative penmanship. However, typically some probably will publicly criticize as a travesty. Some will harmonize, some will publicize or socialize, some will disrespect as imperfect, some will neglect, some will respect as perfect! Hark! I remark; brethren, children and women keep and upkeep that
creative spark! For in the dark or as you embark. Literally, morality and reality is in my poetry and story. Expect excellent, brilliant, decadent, resilient talent and testaments! Basically on final note! I positively devote, quote and wrote these eccentrically optimistic, rhetoric and theoretic poetically lyrical rhyming notes. Finally and bluntly, do not negatively amend, bend, pretend or transcend this end. Amen...
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 9:22 PM UTC