"toni" poems
Sa dami ng mga trabahong tumambak dahil hindi mo pa nagagawa
Mga papeles na nagpatung-patong na
Yung lamesa **** inaagiw na dahil hindi mo alam kung saan at paano magsisimula.
At mga istoryang di mo pa maisulat dahil nangangapa ka pa.
Isama mo na rin yung katrabaho **** nakakairita na sa tenga.
Dahil crush niya daw si Justin Bieber
At paborito niyang frappe sa Starbucks ay Caramel.
Kahit mukhang ang afford niya lang ay Nescafe “Oo nga pala, French Vanilla” na iniinom ni Toni Gonzaga.
Pero wala siyang pambili ng sarili niyang tumbler.
Tangina.
Idagdag mo pa ang mga patay na oras na sunod-sunod ang mga buntong-hininga
Nahuli ka pa ng boss mo na nakatulala
Kaya hayan at napagalitan ka pa.
At dahil contractual ka, yung limang buwan na kontrata mo
Biruin mo, baka mapaaga pa ang endo.
Aminin mo na ang pagpatak ng alas-singko
Ay may kakaibang dalang saya.
Na parang sumagot na ng “oo” yung matagal mo nang nililigawan.
Nakulayan na rin yung mga pinlano niyong outing na buong akala niyo’y hanggang drawing na lang.
Parang pagbabalik sa Pilipinas ng kasintahan **** kumayod sa ibang bansa.
Parang ibinalita sa TV na hindi traffic ngayon sa EDSA.
Himala!
Kaya ang pagsapit ng alas-singko ay kakambal ng paglaya.
Wala sa’yo kung sa bus man ay tayuan
O kaya sa dyip ay makasabit man lang.
Basta makauwi ka lang.
Nakakasabik pa rin ang ideya
Na ang bawat pag-uwi
Ay kasing banayad ng mayroong sasalubong sa’yong ngiti
Mga ngiting papawi sa kangalayan ng mga binti.
Mayroong yakap na nakaabang
Ang mga bisig na nagmistulang pinakapaborito **** kulungan
Dahil doon mo nararamdaman ang tunay na kalayaan.
Mula sa pang-aalipin sa’yo ng lipunan.
Nakahain na rin ang hapunan.
“Mahal, ano ba ang ulam?”
Sabayan natin ito ng mahabang kwentuhan.
Simulan natin sa simpleng kamustahan.
Dahil pagkatapos, ay aabangan mo na naman ang alas-singko kinabukasan.
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 11:11 AM UTC
Walking in the woods, there is human breath
A girl who has come back from the darkness of death
Her eyes shine in the moon of the night
Tomorrow, she will finally see the morning light
She has been dead for several years
There are maggots crawling out of her ears
The girl will walk for several days
Eyes set on the horizon gaze
On her grave, Beloved is her name
Her life will never be the same
She longs to see her mother’s face
To be held again in those arms of grace
She will not stop, she will not rest
Until she is safe where she feels best
On her grave, Beloved is her name
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC
The new Genre Tourist Punk
is sailing the nation.
Hawaiian shirts and white keds are lining up all around Orlando to see
up and thrifting bands like
Lobster trap,
Lighthouse tour and
Dogs welcome.
Founded in a Starbucks
by Toni and Dash,
two MECA grads one student loan away from selling out and getting involved in
the lighthouse painting business,
The Band: Lobster Trap
gave birth to a whole new genre.
TOURIST PUNK
Toni and Dash decided they needed to provide music that was expensive. niche.
Something unspeakably mundane.
With smash hits like
"This traffic is ********
And "My name still isn't Joe".
Lobster Trap is flying
up the American top 40
faster than you can say socks and sandals
Sales of "I HEART LOCATION" merch has skyrocketed with every launched tour.
Crowds of L.L. bean boots and visors are Moshing, breaking poloroid cameras over each others heads in a salmon rage.
old school punk fanatics were skeptical at middle aged middle class suits getting into their scene.
until it hit them that they could now throw punches
at every pedestrian who ever cut them off.
"Hi thirsty, I'm Dad." By Land of the Polite
Has been played more times in the last year then any taylor swift song.
Money once invested in college-bound middle class vacationlander spawn is being wisely spend on bands like "discount Polo",
and "Local Diner"
So listeners.
if you spend an obscene amount of money on travel fair, and over priced, cheaply made souvenirs;
Or Work in customer service thriving to see those leaf peepers choked out by their own ***** packs.
Do yourself a favor.
road trip into your local bullmoose
sporting your states name on your chest.
And Treat yourself to an exclusive new album
of TOURIST PUNK.
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 4:16 AM UTC
HelloPoetry Blessed us all , no matter where we live.
I am truly Blessed by each and everyone alike here.
There are so many here on this here site that I am thankful for.
Sally Bayan, Mike Hauser, Iamdaisie, Olivia Kent, Wendy Ronshausen,Brandon Nagley, Earl Jane, Rachel Sia Jane Lloyd, Lydia Monet,Neil Aranda, Mark Cleavenger, Ann Marie Johnson, Melanie Wilson-Herring, Mike Essig, **** Paz Its Gonna Make Sense.
PrttyBrd, Vicki Bashor, Kripi Mehra, Willyam Pax, Poetess Bhumi, Kelly Rose.
Elizabeth Burnettge, Toni Pugh, Paul Champman, David Lewis Paget.
Ryn, Sean Scibbles, Aurelia, Kim Johanna Baker,Yasaman Johari.
Lady RF,Crazy Diamond Kristy, Weeping Willow, Alyssa Underwood.
MydstopiA,adhi das, South by southwest, Petal, soulsurvivor.
reformdancerecover,Ashly Kocher, Mack, Travler, Randolph Wilson.
Plus many more whom are very special indeed whom did not make this poem love you all in Christ.
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC
back in the days, tales from lauderdale...
yakuzzi gang from oakland park, 308
nightly waves flowin' thru brain channels
the traitor of my memories will judge me
no other day, 38ers, toni der assi, stoogie
two existences, eager brothers at arms
shake em the shake, rip and run, zippas
platin zippos, trip-apache, brave bear
the tents of the past remain as debris
as long as doom's grace feeds us lust
struggle on, lights out, turn me on, baby
shivering is the silver sun at dusk here
and gangsta poets speedin' thru alleys
fat **** frank oversees all oceans, inc.
friends at the thames, partners in crime
the green shining, ultra fresh scent, yeah
bodegas are useful for distribution
nevah, tho', enter these places at night
brooklyn heights, floor 64, 65 & 66 locked
merciless fred, sumptuous leather jacket
cuban necklace jeezy boostah, spiderman
dead blueline pitbulls, ****** cages,
rageful is the age of ours, my friends
sunday's dawn opposes my design
in the corner of my room, hidden
Jun 10, 2021
Jun 10, 2021 at 7:57 PM UTC
I wrote and read this poem at my grandmothers funeral.
While growing up, Toni; Steven and I
saw our Grandparents sacrifice,
so much of their own lives, without a fuss.
Along with our Mother, they did it just for us.
Though Grandpa he was called, he was our father
and in Mom and Grandma, we had two amazing Mothers.
We loved them with the clarity of a childs heart,
in each one of us, they became, so much a part.
Sadly, we have gathered together here today,
to say our final goodbye, to a wonderful lady.
Grandma was tough, she was stubborn and oh so loving.
She had about her, that special something.
That had every child in every neighborhood,
calling her Grandma, whenever they could.
I remember her ready laughter, at our antics,
and her guidance, by the seat of our *******
The countless batches of cookies baked.
For each one of us, every year, our own special birthday cake.
The delicate Barbie and Troll doll clothes she made,
the big band music, on the stereo, she played.
The fragrant roses and brilliant dahlias, tended with care.
The home canned pears, who with the neighbors, she shared.
Then we grew up and though with Mom, we moved away,
Grandma and Grandpa, stayed in our thoughts every day.
Our sister Kristi was born and added to Grams happiness and pride,
then as if by magic, the years just flew by.
The four of us were having children of our own,
when Gram would hold them, her face fairly glowed.
Gram saw her great grand children grow into yong ladies and men,
Then came along some great, great, grandchildren.
I was always amazed, but never surprised,
how Gram, through the children, came alive.
Gram's whole essence was that of pure love.
So I firmly believe she has placed herself, in charge of the baby angels above.
She holds them in arms, that once embraced all of us.
She, herself, is held now in the arms of Jesus.
She is looking down upon us now, with a love untold.
Within her angels wings, she does now, all of us enfold.
In Loving memory of Margaret Sanford.
1918-2010
Sep 9, 2010
Sep 9, 2010 at 8:10 PM UTC
Music is my Muse
From the funky jazz tempo
To the sounds of salsa
From the classical rock
To the alternative basses
From the Opera Lady's bellow
To the Tenors solo
From the 80's slow jamz
To them 50's swinging bands,
To them country folk songs
To those old folks blues
Music is my Muse,
My inspiration,
Being Black&Puerto; Rican
I- A NuYorican,
I've heard the best tunes,
Bahchata's & Merengue,
Bailes La Cumbias,
Like Macr Anthony &
oh how he sang to me,
My wanting
to rock with you like
Micheal Jackson-
To Vanilla's
Ice Ice Baby,
It's yo thang do what you wanna do,
Candy coated Rain drops
By Soul For Real,
& When will I see you Again-
Babyface
Until I muse
in my amusement
When Tim McGraw
Sanged don't take the girl,
Reba "Asking Does
He love me like
he's been loving YOU",
To its my prerogative
Like Bobbi Brown said,
Let not for get
Johnny Cash,
Or what About them
O'Jays
Yeah my muse is musical-
Music and thinking artfully
coincides with one another,
with breathing and eating
Rhyme & Rhythm linguistics
even as we walk down the street
or cruising
while jamming in ya car,
LL Cool J said Cars drive
by with the booming Systems-
AH Push it was
My jam back in the day
R&B; Was mostly what I liked
But growing Up
I started listening to
Rock & Hip Hop,
Got drunk off those sweet
Monster Ballads
while Making love
to Sade,
Sung All Cried Out
at my graduation party,
Tony Toni Tone
Made Us-FEEL GOOD YEAH
at all them block parties
back in NYC,
Now
I listen to everything
going on 33
heard it through the grape vine
that YOU share
a likeness in this Musing?
Music is My Muse.
Always Me Ayeshah
Mar 8, 2010
Mar 8, 2010 at 5:02 PM UTC
walking thru the valley of words
speechless are our soldiers in war
times of creative breaks, shootings
the sounds of slugs overpower rivals
gangstapoets stand tall in gory hoods
we dunno what fear is, bloodhoundz
as we only need 8 minutes to gather 80
0 traitors, giving bread to hungry ones
one tower, one pit, one block, 1LOVE
feel me rushing over sparklin' glaciers
south florida, 64th floor, ocean fiends
snake charmer in crime, 20 to 55, flip
kobacobraface scammed one of us
unknown were the ties among tizz and gp
in the background, jeezy and assi-toni...
"still on it", "the realest", "kommenzi"
the beats merge in gangstapoet's minds
dominique northstar's silky skin on mine
tissop, the war zones, fallen gangsta poets
dead baby mommas, vamoosing bullets
stop! tizzop is yelling, falling on his knees
and branko, tizzop's red horse approaches
juicy our promises, as sweet as fulfillments
olives, red wine, m2 tec bluetooth babe
red light district, wondaland's lost avenue
in the corner of agony and mania, dey fail
gangstapoets gradually winning turf
to be continued...
Jun 8, 2021
Jun 8, 2021 at 2:14 AM UTC
A Great America – Poetry by Toni Payne.
I live in a country where
you are not just told to be all you can be
you are given the tools to do just that
I live in a country where
when things happen that are not right,
people don’t just sit back and ignore because it doesn’t affect them
I live in a country where
the voice of a child to help the homeless is not dismissed because she is too young
I live in a country where
charity is encouraged and oppression is discouraged
I live in a country where
when there is injustice dealt to a black man
both black and white will come together in protest
I live in a country where
irrespective of our differences, we stand together in times of tragedy
I live in a country where
most are compassionate and taught to be their brothers keeper
I live in a country where a nightclub shooting will bring out people
en-mass to donate blood, time and food, irrespective of their lifestyle differences
I live in country where
the six month sentence of a ****** causes mass outrage and protest
I live in a country where
the abuse of a child will cause mass public outrage
I live in a country where
irrespective of your social status or how much money you have, domestic violence is not tolerated
I live in a country where
a man can choose to preach hate, and the masses instead choose to accept love
I live in a country where
people care, people share, people speak for the weak
I live in a country where
people use their wealth to help, not to oppress
I live in a country where
animal lives are also important
I live in a country where
no matter how different we are
no matter how near or how far
no matter what differences we share
no matter what laws are not fair
one thing we all have in common is that,
in out own little way, with every passing day
we care for this great nation and want to make it a better place.
I could go on and on about what makes America great even with
it’s very visible imperfections
What makes America great to me you ask? – The People
Who is America? What is America?
America is a melting *** of different people from different places
with their different cultures, different values, and different views
and someway, for the most part, most times,
we all manage to live in Harmony, sharing in the beauty of our differences.
From time to time, some of us will go against the grain,
and when that happens,
most of us will stand together – with love in our hearts because
United we stand, Divided we fall..
This to me is – A Great America.
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 11:58 AM UTC
protesting *****
down w/ this &
that; neo-Nazis
marching waving
weird geek flags
worshiping white
people from space;
Pride Marches
celebrating golden
underwear &
too much lipstick;
macho *****
******* yelling it
out; Slutwalking
through downtown
challenging **** &
mysogyny dressed
as ugly Barbies;
gender color trans
light a joint & sit
on the grass smoking
lovely, got my kpop,
got my g/bf; Toni,
Tony, Antoinette,
Anthony; neo-Nazis
rushing headlong
back into the dustbin
of history; prostitutes
pretend to be fembots;
acting like brainless
machines unless smart
as Jeopardy contestants;
****** cosplay fetish,
no cash, no crime; no
crime, no cops; no war
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 11:27 AM UTC
Dean Roberts had two homes
One was in port Adelaide and the other was in rhw Adelaide hills and he lived in the adelaide hills but he had paranoid mates living 3 doors down from his Port Adelaide home
You see there were squatters living there making everyone living around there scared to leave their homes and this usually happened every night from 4pm till dawn and then it appeared to be early but nobody went near the hooise except for dean Roberts who was hermless but the residents
Of the nearby homes barocsded themselves in their homes and there were psychiatrists around for anyone who becomes too scared to cross the main road and making sure no vunerable person was struggling getting to where they wanted to go or where they lived and dean Roberts was unaware of all this because there was no sign of people living there and dean's best friend Toni was the target in some way, you see she lived in the house opposite that house
And she called the police numerous times which forced cars to follow her making her look very scared but she still wanted to help the police remove them so she used herself as bait to catch them
But this was easy for them but Toni was in danger of losing her life making her scream so loud
But while Toni was with them dean was trapped inside his port Adelaide home but he broke the window and iinstead of going home to the hills he slept in his car waiting for the
Squatters to come back and When they did dean grabbed a broom and came in there saying come on get out of my house and then while that was going on Toni was panicking crossing the road making it half way across and then going back especially after they took her from her place of work and dumped her at the lights making her scared to hold someone even the police
Cause she watches the news where people dress up as police to take advantage of ladies like Toni and after dean got rid of the squatters for bow
He drove home with people yelling out to him hi mr hero
With people bipping their horn
Saying you are port Adelaide's
Hero but Toni was still struggling to get home and this forced the police to grab her and take her home
To take her medication and go to bed and one of the squatters returned and was caught and shoved in Ron coopers psych ward where he was put on eppelim and he was forced to one day tell them why he lived in dean Roberts property and squatter said his name was ken
Psrtley and Ron gave ken an injection of abilify to calm
Him down and Ron went back home and had pizza and coke
While ken was stuck in a Place he hated and Toni was still paranoid about crossing that road and dean helped her get through this like a friend would
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 6:10 PM UTC
Road Runner is my all-time favorite- I like the song by Junior Walker too.
He, Road Runner, that is , reminds me of mentally ******** friends of mine who always strut around in a huff.
"It"'s a scream.
Bugs Bunny and Mel Blanc (Mel, one of Jack Benny's sidekicks) voice for him - Bugs was frothy with my kind of sarcasm.
Mickey Mouse I thought of as a kind of a put-on for guys that look like that a little who were always cutting up.
I used to get that song Hey Mickie by Toni Basil read piped in loud in my mind, it seemed when it played on the jukebox at that sports bar I used to hang out at.
Yosemite Sam is like some of the severely mentally ill guys on my geriatric psych ward who are really abrupt, loud, and whose bark is bigger than their bite.
McGruff - I wrote a piece about him - he's not of course from a cartoon - but from my yesteryear, who was under the weather, hence the crime wave.
Just like Smokey the Bear, he was a lovable character.
I like King of the Hill and Family Guy at night for yukks.
On Sat morn back in the day I guess when I had enough time I used to get a bit of a kick out of Fat Albert cartoons and the Jackson Five stuff on lonely, for me, Saturday morning to perk me up for the rest of the day.
Back in the old days, they reminded me of figures I knew like them in real life.
Sylvester the Cat, Felix the Cat, Hekyll and Jekyll, Daffty Duck, and Might Mouse tickled my little boy sense of humor.
In comic Books, I was impressed with the sense of humor of Little LuLu.
In the newspaper, Hagar the Barbarian and Beetle Bailey tickled my funny bone a little.
That's all, Folks.
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 9:09 AM UTC
This is a poem for nobody’s eyes
About my students
my flowering black and brown baby girls
more bud than human, saying all singsong how
black is ugly ugly ugly
holding their arms up to
one another, comparing hues
About the instant I realized
I loved women too
and sagged hard against my bedroom door while
dread and hope danced a strange dance
in the pit of my gut
About the college kids I see in class everyday
popping Aspirin and Xanax and the pill
with their headphones and angry publicness and
**** off **** you **** this
and notebooks and pens and
soft privateness and
I love you I need you I need you
About the boy I couldn’t speak to for years
without feeling sick or small or unrequited
About Audre, Toni, and Maya teaching me
how to start revolutions with a word
About how I dream again and again
of kissing the girl I am in love with
and sometimes
we are the in the dark and sometimes
we are laughing and sometimes
I am moving breathless
into the room saying
I have never loved you more than I do at this moment
and lips are on lips are on lips
About how I can’t look at this one
pink nightgown because I was wearing it
when my father said he was cheating and
too many tears fell on those
tiny satin cherries
About Holden Caufield and that
******* merry-go-round
About a crazy, unquiet and
utterly illuminated self
Me, spoken yet unspoken
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 8:35 PM UTC
I miss the way we were.
These days it’s a struggle,
I feel like it’s unending,
Unnerving to get you to do it right,
Yeah I mean love me right.
Love me like I have never been loved before,
These days I can’t even recall,
The last time you reached out to call,
Just to say I love you baby I still care.
Maybe I hold on out of fear,
That losing you would tear me apart,
Even though it feels we are already apart.
Is it too much to ask,
That you love me gracefully,
Doing so faithfully,
Even if it’s barely unconditionally.
Love me with all my flaws,
My jealousy, because it’s you I adore.
To share? you know I wouldn’t dare.
Love me like the sun loves the day,
Like I’m Sitting in it’s ray,
Daydreaming of the day, that you will ask me to be yours,
Forever I wish to spend just being yours.
A love like mine is hard to find
But then again, maybe it’s just in my head,
Either way, you should be mine
I close my eyes once again, fantasizing.
In it we hold hands as we stroll in the moonlight,
The smell of sweet molasses as it trickles down my …. “Laughs”
Is it too much to ask,
For just a little romance?
It’s you my heart wants,
It’s you that I adore.
I think about us constantly,
I feel so broken hearted,
Because it always seems like I’m fighting for this love to be simple,
Drama free, no cheating.
Just the two of us making it work.
Love me like you have never loved before,
allow me reciprocate, because it’s you I adore
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 1:34 PM UTC
brate be
seven feet
balkan handz
yugo betrugo
atm tear it off
toni da serb
rade belgrade
brate be seven feet
balkan dropkick
es ist optik
es ist kopffick
we so yibbish
we so yibbish
diz is fibbish
gimme widdish
diz be the last day
of yous ridiculous stay
on this world
last day of ya stay
gimme your girl
gimme da cash
para be stammel
du hammel ik fick dich
he a sturdy kidic
aber keine wichtig!
come over and watch
gimme some cash
i'll cut ya head off
yous trash
ain't no madov
ya
know the code bro
inspire me baby
shorty now a sporty
nach dieser feier
gimme some raki
my pantz be khaki
benz like stasi you
know the code joe
gimme gimme gimme
bibi bibi bibi
ain't no real like
the copy of a copy
du opfer ich schneide
deinen kopf ab
eingeweide
quill'n
you gotz to chill
we so yibbish
we so yibbish
diz is fibbish
gimme widdish
jacket originally stolen
cevape and börek
para and babas
we don't care yeah
life be quick
touch my d##k
rub my d##k
life too quick
energy months
mothman *****
michael myers' titts
hyper years
feel me like an o.g.
you know the code brate
wenn ich deine fresse schlage
yugo betrugo
ebonics we got this
yugo betrugo
brate in die fresse pate
we so yibbish
we so yibbish
diz is fibbish
gimme widdish
ain't nothing new
check the views
just one fu##in fan
will burn ya jam
hip hop colors
flip flop mamas
beach feelingz
we need ringz:
MASSIVE
we need chainz:
CUBAN LINK NECKLACE 1 KG CLASSIC
Feb 18, 2020
Feb 18, 2020 at 3:34 PM UTC
Who Am I
That is a good question
Well I'm nothing too special
and I'm nothing too great
I'm just simple
Who Am I
I'm just a girl
I'm not a high matience Barbie
I'm not a slouchy Tom Boy
I'm just your down home Kentucky Girl
Who Am I
I'm a girlfriend
Who loves her boyfriend very much
and would give her life just so he could live another day
Who Am I
I'm a daughter
Who tries her hardest to make her momma and daddy proud
Who Am I
I'm a sister who keeps all the ***** little secrets
Who Am I
I'm a aunt that is the best in the whole wide world
Who Am I
Simply put I'm just me
Toni
Apr 13, 2010
Apr 13, 2010 at 7:59 PM UTC
Io vorrei, superato ogni tremore
giungere alla bellezza che mi incalza,
dalla rovina del silenzio, fonda,
togliere la misura della voce
e cantare all'unisono coi suoni;
stamparmi nelle palme ogni vigore
in crescita perenne e modulare
un attento confine con le cose
ov'io possa con esse colloquiare
difesa sempre da incipienti caos.
Vorrei abitare nel segreto cuore
centro d'ogni più puro movimento,
animare di me gli spenti aspetti
dei fantasmi reali e riplasmare
le parabole ardenti ove ogni grazia
è tocca dal suo limite. Variata
stupendamente da codesti incontri
numererò la plurima mia essenza
entro un solo, perenne,
insistere di toni adolescenti.
Nell'aperta misura delle ali
del più libero uccello,
nel vigore degli alberi,
nella chiarezza-musica dei venti,
nel frastuono puerile dei colori,
nell'aroma del frutto,
sarò creatura in unico e diverso
principio, senza origine né segno
d'ancestrale condanna.
E so, per questa verità, che il tempo
non crollerà spargendo le rovine
dei violati contatti alla mitezza
del mio nuovo apparire, né la sacra
identità del canto verrà meno
ai suoi idoli vivi.
925
I hate school, it makes me drool
I wish I was a bird, Tweet
You are a fool, and I am cool
My brother is a **** that smells like feet
My hair is pretty like falling leaves
My eyes are bright like the sky, oh
my kitty licks me, he was stolen by thieves
My, oh my, would I hate to die
My mind is empty like a cave
Oh, wow my body is hot like the sun
I feel like a slave, but my name is not Dave
I like to run, this poem is almost done
Toni and Kaitlyn wrote this with all their might
It is a good thing we do not fight
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 11:33 AM UTC
"Existence is but a deception," thinks Mister Sen,
"a ***** little lie, a junkyard of loss created by all men."
With cellophane dreams in restless hearts,
Mister Sen contemplates "to- comprehend, this or that."
"But everything is as zero as good,
and all are as one as bad."
Mister Sen thinks to himself, "I ain't no ***** little rat..."
Thus he walked out, and right on to the door, and,
With fancy biggy dreams,
stopped once or maybe twice to check out the store,
A store of books which sold fiction and all those upon a time, just at once,
Mister Sen, therein and herein, thought of having a slightly furtive glance.
He has read a lot of Sartre, Beauvoir, and Gilles,
He has read of Toni Morrison, The bluest eye,
But he has never read of himself on any given day,
He has never read of himself within any story to say.
Thus Mister Sen thought to himself-
"I am all old and a bit too shy to be told, maybe...
In any drama or an in any such way, to be too fictitiously wavy,
Existence is but a deception, and a ***** little lie,
Even in fiction and philosophy, I Don't have any right to look
around with my eye,
Why won't I have a chance to say any goodbye?"
He walked home, all cold and tired, and all,
With nothing in the world which seemed to be so good as true,
Mister Sen but never thought of himself,
That he was a story, combined to form a million things, untrue.
Mister Sen, Well this one's for you!
"It was all in the cold winter air,
Where all the answers blew, They were all really blue,
Dreamy And wavy like scented flowers at night and bright,
Bright as white and pearly glow,
Mister Sen They were all really blue,
To be honest at heart, they were, Meant to be only for you."
Mister Sen, this one is for you!
It was all in the cold winter air,
Where all the answers blew
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 12:56 PM UTC
I remember at CUNY Medgar Evers College, Ms. Morrison came to speak about her Novel, “TAR BABY”
I thought, distinction
Author, Philosopher and Motivator all rolled into one Toni Morrison
Endless writing days and nights
Ms. Morrison’s life filled with words
Stories to tell
Her stories hit home like a ringing of the bell
Throughout her stories were assertions of her beginnings
Her own words with a devoted mind
Ms. Morrison a commodity at will
But there’s more to Toni Morrison even still
She was as Philosopher within
Her words of inspiration sounding like musical instruments with a device tempo
Taking only brief pauses in making sure her words were actually being taken in
As a Novelist, Ms. Toni Morrison strived
She lived her dream to write
Ms. Toni Morrison creativity was like a river turning into a rushing flowing stream
It was her freshness having golden delight to intrigue
But it was Toni Morrison’s determination that told her to proceed
Ms. Morrison labored what she enjoyed and that was entertaining people through her writing and encouragement
Ms. Toni Morrison’s name will never be taken away
She is in Heaven and is simply ok
Until we meet again on the other side
Let my books and words continue to inspire
When questions are in doubt about you
Did you see what I have accomplished?
When answers become uncertain?
I am a believer in hope and my hope comes from a higher authority
Toni Morrison answered that call
Her legacy has been established for all.
Aug 7, 2019
Aug 7, 2019 at 4:36 PM UTC
30 on the speed limit 90 on the dash
I'm driving reckless I don't even care if I crash
Told the homies I was just going for a drive to get some air
But I'm swerving thru all the lanes and no pain can compare
To what I feel inside
I think I wanna die
I just lost my best friend
I can't do nothing but cry
I'm glad I saw her on her last day I don't know why
Why'd you have to leave me here and go to the sky
Toni why
How can I do this life without you
You were in Florida but I was all about you
My favorite aunt, we was joined at the hip
My favorite person, how could I ever forget
You used to get me all those things
Those kisses that would sting
My love for was never material
Now for you I sing
Like why
You only had one vice
I never met a person that was that nice
The soul of an Angel and you had the mood too
I don't know why it was Florida you had to move to
But I wasn't around then, what could I say
I talk to you more now than I did in your days
I'm crying now, I wish you could've stayed
I guess God has to take his best angels away
But it's ok because I know you're in a better place
And whenever there's a butterfly I see your face
A kind soul no one could ever replace
Someone that was too good for this human race
I'm running outta words to put on the page
I'm sure you would've loved Luke Cage
Since you been gone I done things you'd be ashamed of
I wish I could show you all the things I'm made of
I don't want to be someone you're afraid of
I hope whatever happens, you still have the same love
I really hope you can see me
Sometimes it's really hard just to be me
I'm learning one day at a time
Not a day goes by you're not on my mind
There's always something around here to remind
Myself of something I will never find
In Toni's passing, she will always shine
Maybe I had to let go of what wasn't mine
You deserved more than what you gained
Uncle d told me about that guy that left you in the rain
He took advantage of your kindness it brings me pain
Makes me wonder how many people did the same
I really wish I could make him feel the blame
But you'd never see me the same again
Turn the other cheek is what you taught me then
Hopefully for you heaven let's me in
Losing you really made me cold
This world is hard without your hand to hold
But no matter what, Toni I gotta stay bold
I promise to be strong for you, never fold
May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 4:11 PM UTC
it is okay not to have plans
it's okay you have spent m
any nights lone before toni
ght do not cry not now he
didn't notice a change but
it is there is is a glowing em
ber and when you cut off th
tips of your hair you cut off
a little tiny bit of desperation
i mean it you look better i m
ean it the change is there and
it is okay to acknowledge it a
lone it your bedroom it is oka
y to steal a beer from the lock
ed pantry and drink it alone a
nd toast yourself it is okay to h
ug yourself and laugh to yours
elf you're still ADMI R A B L E
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 7:31 PM UTC
renderings of love on a tuesday:
“the overall effect, the result of looking and looking into its brimming surface as long as I could look, is love, by which I mean a sense of tenderness toward experience, of being held within an intimacy with the things of the world”-mark doty
“love takes off the masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within”-james baldwin
“my notion of love…is very closely related to the blues. there’s always somebody leaving somebody, and there’s never any vengeance, any bitterness…”-toni morrison
service without limits,
unforeseen respect
reaching in to seize my heart from my chest
handing it over to my daughter, sophia
absorbed through soft, gentle palms ‘til her womb plays the role of God,
and molds a new heart to this earth, births a new love
the picture of tangled, honeyed thighs,
skin crinkled and peppered with spots made of stories
soft cackles singing in an otherwise quiet room
they never will grow mold.
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 11:35 PM UTC
We’ll hitchhike to mars
on a rocket not a car,
so say your au revoirs.
We’ll steer towards Polaris, the north star
right through the center of the milky-way-bar.
See, the universe is dark and chocolatey.
Stars that glitter like multi-faceted gems,
are just shiny, yellow, peanut M&Ms,
take a handful, if you’d like, they’re free.
We’ll dodge the silhouetted moon,
which is made of enough coconut macaroon,
to make a French confectioner swoon.
As we go streaking, like a comet’s tail,
drag a finger through Saturn’s rings as well,
those are made of marshmallow.
We’ll pass nebulae made of cotton-kandi,
and here’s a fact Einstein would have found handy,
the speed of light doesn’t apply to candy.
.
.
Ramble on by Toni Jevicky
Jun 19, 2025
Jun 19, 2025 at 11:25 PM UTC