"shadiness" poems
The castle in the smoke
sneaking
like a reptile foraging
in the city
tirelessly
the blue-colored flame
awaiting the servants
the colors of sounds
staining
all over shadiness
the scarecrow with a hat
stumbling through
the dark
the wand of a magician
melts away
the ancient bed
and the love
locked in the sarcophagus.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 9:49 PM UTC
I always have this feeling.
That there are these following
Eyes always on my back
Or on the top of my head
Or in my black blood. . .
Do you know what I mean?
It is in a sense, comforting?
And completely sickening all at
Once and I have nothing left
To speak at all.
But one time, sometime ago
I felt a strange relief.
No more eyes on the back
Of my head or your head on my
Spiny back; crooked teeth
Straightened back out
By the cold streets
Of those bizarre,
******
and draining
cities.
Saint Pete, Oh Saint Peter!
Where are you now?
Your smooth shadiness and weird wilderness
Covered up my sins but only for a little bit
A moment in a movement inward
Inside my lungs, I breathe you in
I’m going outside and out of my mind
They forgive me for my sins. . .
But, I still love you.
Saint Augustine, Saint Augustine!
I will be back to you
I will let your silly green water
Take me in and bring me home
I’ve been too far gone for far too long
Sliding around the other stars in this galaxy
Seeing the inside of some strange girls
In the complete capture of a crutch coma
I let you go. . .
But, I still love you.
I thank you both,
(True Gentlemen)
(Wicked Women)
For your hands
They were there
(For Strength)
(For Shade)
To cover the curse
Of these
(Dying)
(Lying)
Eyes
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 8:43 PM UTC
deception is the old fellow's name
he's an ace professional con man
this is his no good claim to fame
he's fab at handling the charisma pan
far too smooth is his presentation
he's an ace professional con man
he'll never get an honesty ovation
the old guy is tops at the odd slippery trick
far too smooth is his presentation
a keen eye can pick him real quick
his act is well honed and rehearsed
the old guy is tops at the odd slippery trick
on the subject of fraud he's well versed
world class are his abilities at shadiness
his act is well honed and rehearsed
he struts his stuff with much cleverness
world class are his abilities at shadiness
deception is the old fellow's name
this is his no good claim to fame
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 7:23 PM UTC
I know i am involved in so many sins
I know i am not worthy of forgive
You my Lord has seen me into pieces
I ll soon be turn into ashes
As a human i do mistakes
i do repeat with abundance of retakes
You have always hold my hand in trouble
I am at your feet and asking to get me out of this struggle
You my Lord always treat me like your own child
On each and every mistake, you punish me on time
You taught me a lesson upon my every fault
before you, my Lord, my life and my soul put at halt
The stars showed me the light
The hope and to make my future bright
After all the shadiness that I am been into
The heaven calls me to take a look of the sight
O lord! I may be no one for you
But I always thankful by showing my gratitude
You showed me the path and the hope pf ray
To deal with the problems which comes my way
You give me so much in my life
Love me, hate me while keeping my sins aside
The love that you bestowed upon me
Keep me spirit so high
The time when it was difficult to survive
I had no one at my beside
You took care of me whole heartedly
And show me the light that guide
Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 3:37 AM UTC
There once was a man who could speak
Only in whispers, only in murmurs
He stuttered his way through his broken life
Hoping that someone would help him home.
People stop and stare
But most just pass him by
He cannot break out of this bubble
Of invisibility, of shadiness
All he wants is acceptance
The love of another
To escape this hermit lifestyle.
He has not chosen this for himself.
He simply yearns for a companion
With whom he can exchange hushed compliments.
A lover to be his stronghold
Whom he can call his own
But he has none of that
Will he ever be loved?
He cannot imagine this as a possibility
And still, he is ridiculed for being different.
Has he finally had enough?
His mask begins to disintegrate
And his body is weary and irreparable
What ever shall he do?
He steps out of his shell as he fades into the night
No one stops him
No one cares.
His funeral is well-attended.
Friends of friends
The bullies that beat him into the Earth
They dug his grave for him.
The passersby, remember them?
The ones who did not even stop
To express any concern for our lonely protagonist.
They all say
"He was grand, his smile was beautiful.
He will be missed."
But will you miss him?
They express their condolences to the family
You never honored him in life
Why would you honor him in death?
Is this your way of paying your disrespects?
I hope you remember him.
I hope he haunts you.
I hope he sticks in your mind
As the man that you let die.
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
I was a kid, born with a fiery halo, says no preachers slapping crisco,
Telling me to let go, of the demons scheming from the gitgo,
Born in the months of a Virgo, and there if i go, got the light stored,
All across the shores, I feel the breeze, and the winds blowing slowly,
Caught a whiff of the spiritual drift, almost pushed me to the cliff,
Keep a spliff, chunky light the blunts pass it slowly, to my homies,
Thinking of ways to make pays, but it seems shadiness, is the only way,
To make an honest pay,
I could grow a jheri curl like O'Shea, make y'all ******* fear me, hear me,
Out I'm not ever gone rap about, that fake **** make or take it,
We talking points, high and publishing so why, lie to yourself,
It ain't good for ya health, now you gotta move ya steps in stealth,
But I say **** that, I talk back, so what if I die it was my time to die,
Never question why, of the universe I speak so real in this verse,
I swear you'll see make shaking in my hearse, every soul is terse,
Once the crossover begins, make peace with ya sins before ya ending,
Brad told y'all, he never seen a man cry, til he seen a grown man die,
I can't even lie, even though tears flooded my eyes, can't save his demise,
I realize the game of life, is chest, tryna avoid the check mate *****
Feeling bigger once ya pockets pass seven figures, there's a hitter,
Just waiting to get Cha, tells from the hood naw it's tales of the good,
And the bad, just poetries of visions I had in my note pad,
Became a reality, why nobody, see the evilness in this society,
Lurking at a snail pace, stuck in a rat race, different place a new face,
Waiting to get a taste, of ya blood on their hands, see inflation in demand,
Families is crumbling, no more humblesness just pain to ingest,
Only the real feel this, somebody get this torch out my hands, I'm loosing it,
Feb 21, 2022
Feb 21, 2022 at 12:07 AM UTC