"unguided" poems
Day by day I fritter away
Observing decorum as best I may
Meet me as you meet — reserved somebody
Leave me as you leave — dull nobody
Dreary, weary, listless, spiritless
A resting spirit clamours to emerge
Unguided, wild, free and seeking
Boldly defying reserved somebody
But how, just how do I unleash this defiant spirit
For it is to cross all conceivable limits
Oh but a mask, of course a mask!
The perfect accessory for this task!
Careless of propriety
Boastful of daring
Acting against my will
Or in tandem with it?
This mask — just now I can't discern
Ponder I do with great concern
Does it shield my identity
Or render truth to it?
So now just what fun in masks
One may ponderously ask
Masks, bring to life fantasy
Fantasy, a realm of our reality
Reality, wherein lies multiplicity
Multiplicity, within each individuality
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 11:04 AM UTC
The seraph sky on ebony night,
A white marble of placid light.
Casting to the living glass,
Haunting, the feeling's elapse.
A time of gardenia drapes,
Hanging the mourning wall.
Scent of ambrosia fogging,
The pavement covered in moss.
Portraits of Celts amidst,
Drifting upon moonlight mist.
Eyes delving, ears opt to hear,
Voices whisper of ancient fear.
An oracle muses the unguided,
As trees speaks the truth.
Humanity strives to be the art,
Yet only remembers by a few.
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 2:45 AM UTC
I Deserve to Die, A shout of Joy.
I deserve to Die
My life is a lie
A flippant lie
I Deserve to Die
I Deserve to Die
In this world full of Love
I fly like an unguided dove
I Deserve to Die
I Deserve to Die
If I could tell myself the truth
I may be a better youth
But, I Deserve to Die
I Deserve to Die
Too weak for this battle
To grip for this struggle
I Deserve to Die
I Deserve to Die
The song I hear in the morning
The door opened in the evening
Ready to Die
I Deserve to Die
I Deserve to Die
The depressing things I tell myself
The worthless value of myself
I Deserve to Die
I Deserve to Die
Not a prayer
From a player
But I Deserve to Die
I deserve to Die
But who cares?
The limitless growth of the stairs
I Deserve to Die
Who will save from my grief?
Jesus?
Do I even believe?
Maybe not!
Maybe I do!
I’m not sure
I Deserve to Die
I Deserve to Die
But I don’t want to
Will I have to?
Do I need to?
I Deserve to Die
I Deserve to Die
Shall I help myself?
Maybe,
Maybe,
I shouldn’t Die
Well, I Deserve to Die
But He went ahead and Die
Now I can’t Die
A new beginning,
A new life,
Lord I Deserve,
Will you let me Die?
Hear my cry
Save thee
I Deserve to Die
Don’t allow me to Die.
I Deserve to Die
But I need to escape
Open the gate of life
Hear my cry
I just need a way
To run away
I Don’t want to Die
I cry…
Esperanto
Sep 18, 2019
Sep 18, 2019 at 10:56 AM UTC
The bartender says “It’s time to go”
“Because the moon has clamored high
And the sun was banished low.”
They were only speaking to me
I raised my glass, took a swig
belch, “i’m not even empty.”
They grab and toss it in a bin
The crash of glass, the waste of gin
Pollutes the air and that is when
They spoke. It was stern it was cold
“Get out right now! Before I leave
Your chest all gaped. Your chest all holed.”
“I’m a patron,yet you’ve decided
To push me out into the darkness
Lonesome and unguided”
“There are other bars out there,”
“No need to bother us, They said
I bit my tongue so as not to swear.
I made a choice, a simple choice
To sit and stay at the counter.
I cleared my throat and raised my voice:
“Do what you must. Let it occur,
But understand this, we will not be deterred.”
Jun 29, 2022
Jun 29, 2022 at 4:04 PM UTC
Crying girl on the side of the road,
a broken girl and nothing more.
A tainted soul, unguided *****
A broken girl and nothing more.
Homeless man begging for some change,
a homeless making minimum wage.
****** his life and threw it all away,
for a ***** white in some nice lingerie.
Tattooed man behind cold steel bars,
thought he'd get away with stealing cars.
Looks like he didn't get too far,
another ****** ******* up our tax dollar!
Drugged up man on the beaches of L.A.,
took his life and threw it all away,
for used needles and a little *******
thought addiction was a game he could win, what a shame.
**** it all and throw it away,
looking for life in all the wrong places.
I will admit though, just this one time,
their life sure sounds more interesting than mine.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 9:53 PM UTC
For now there is only ocean
And skies
The possessing blue expanse of it all
One beautiful unending sameness
Contently captivated.
Tomorrow sitting on the horizon
Swallowed by the sunset
Yesterday a world away
For now there is only stars
And this body entirely
Dipping and weaving her way
Through darkness unguided
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 11:47 AM UTC
Cooking up a blizzard.
Lost and unguided tendrils of space hold me captive,
the trebles of your heart beating
leads me back to my my Home.
That infinite gaze of yours into my dilapidated eyes,
is like a portal to you to look into my soul.
You blanket all my darkness
With your semi-pixie cut.
You’re my tree of knowledge
I bask in it’s shade.
Powdered Sugar coating on cupcakes.
Your silk armour protects your vulnerability,
My sincere apologies to all the arrows that gaped through.
Cover me under your angel wings,
Dab away my streaming reservoirs and replace them
with pollen and sweet nectar.
Your wishbone sacramental daydreams and dreams.
I feel so lost without you.
Bandage my old wounds with your tender hands,
Kiss me with your lush lips
sending jolts of star dust upstream,
within my veins dancing with yours palpitating feet.
My shot of euphoria and bleeding antidote.
My poetry.
You, Kalon.
Let’s raise a toast to your
beauté remarquable éternel, mon soleil
your free spirit,
your beauty of a ghost,
your heart racing with joy,
your heart steaming up with reticent sadness,
build up anger that come crashing down
like a typhoon detaching from the human perspecta.
I miss you.
Your emotional mess and literal mess,
I’m your magic broom.
You, my inspiration.
You, my groove.
You, my you.
You. My everyone and everything.
You’re fun filled supressed omnipresent electric feel.
You, The only Solis in my galaxy.
I love you.
Sharing your grandoise orangy tinge yellow light.
Bottling up a few star
in a bottle of red wine,
For her Luna.
Solis is 21 a (000,000,000) today.
You’re irreplacable.
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 10:14 PM UTC
qui tollis peccata mundi, dona eis requiem
Bejesus we walked so far!
It was beautiful country, mind,
feet dappling through hedgerows
that led from the city, in silence,
to rest where all flesh shall come.
I remember how it started,
walled in with the others.
Lord you could dance!
How were they to comprehend
that the kink in my arm
and your off-beat jive
could lead us unguided
to narrow pathways forcing single file?
By a river we sat together—
amid long words and fingerprints
your skin bled dark with guilt
and for my part I saw coracles
sprout upon your breath.
We weighed down these little craft
with the chains of our sins
and tied fast the bones of our future
as payment for the ferryman.
One day perhaps, the river will dissolve to ash,
revealing our two disciples
discarded as the chance to heal,
there will be love
like a great and gentle pulse
mingling with cold stones
and memories our
downcast eyes, cheekbones to the fore.
Oct 22, 2011
Oct 22, 2011 at 11:07 AM UTC
Before the thaw, my feet will be rooted
Into this nation’s primordial freeze
My muscles and bones will be acquainted with malaise
The sun’s altruism will be refuted
Before the thaw, I will struggle to find consciousness
The frost will leak through the bedroom window
And don the facade of a blanket
The door will prove to be bottomless
Possibilities will seem unachievable
The brain will itch for what it can not have
Buses will limp through congestion
And the blizzards may feast on the feeble
You may want to write of your misery
But your automation will halt in cataclysm
Because someone held a door open
For the gust that billows bitterly
Gastric emissions will become tangible
As smouldering wastes contrast against the sky with rancour
The wispy whites, marginalized into *****
And the world remains infallible
I will lack the tools of incision
To enact my life’s revisions
I will weep for my unguided millions
While I saunter into oblivion
After the thaw, I will smile
My expatriate soul will run in the whimsical wind
Of the morning dayspring that will march unto me
I will stand over a kingdom of honey-filled tiles
After the thaw, the arks will converge
Into the straits of the Bermudian Sea and the
Elusive Caspian Forest, where I will learn to love again
While bidding farewell to winter’s dirge
In the waking world, I will ***** a limestone castle
Where entropy will rule and the mind’s domain
Is left susceptible to perennial reverence
The sea, coloured true, nesting a fairgrounds vessel
In this Great Revision, gargantuan skyways
Will show the world how exiguous we are
That we must not wait for exodus to come
Should we fear to waste away
Into icebergs
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 5:35 PM UTC
Growing up unguided and penniless
Torturous upbringing pushing me down
A handgun, speculating and rash
Gluttony attempts to smother my eyes
Wearing the condemnation of men
Appropriating the virtues of girls
Feasting in the winds of a fandango
Weakening under the need for support
Emblazoned under the influence of white powder nights
Ceilings lights spinning out of control
Locked up and discover the stars in strife
Sweet seclusion with a Beelzebub for company
Crawling through the gutters on all fours to get out
Black and white key arias connected
Caressing coloraturia platitudes on fire
Busting a gut on the walkway to truth
Peaceful vigilance a bismillah fraternity
Deserted, drowning in civilisation
Tanked, yanked and naked
Is this Mama Mia
Standing on two feet
Rebuked, not loved
Rebellion, unshackled
Revelations, so, not want to die
Reciting bohemian poetry before the bullet strikes high
Scaramouche....
Apr 7, 2021
Apr 7, 2021 at 1:59 PM UTC
Wires & walls
rats in bathroom stalls
strained sinews drag
a Camel into my lungs
as I walk over
asphalted hills.
Bridges span seas,
but to no memories
of a life unguided
by highways' helping hands;
all adventures are planned
ahead.
Cities grow
as cameras roll
to capture the movements
of every breaking soul.
Wires & walls
rats in bathroom stalls
beasts in a zoo
which we all walk through,
how miserable we have to be
to lock up all as we do.
Eyes to the night sky
avoiding neon lies
seek soothing drops
of moonlight trickling down
our crystalline, steel caves.
Killers and lovers
walk the parks together.
Knife in hand,
hand in hand
all hope to find
what they need.
Cities grow
as cameras roll
to capture the movements
of every breaking soul.
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 3:56 AM UTC
Only LOVE can save Earth and all living creations upon it.
But to LOVE, one must first be loved. That is why it is imperative that the embryo must be loved. Then the infant, then the toddler, then the child, then the teenager, and so on.
If you have never been loved, or not enough, you will have problems, serious problems. But it is never too late to be loved.
I was not loved by my mom and dad. They had a terribly miserable marriage for 36 years. Neither was emotionally capable of loving me.
But our maid, Maggie Woods, bless her heart, loved me. Did I care that her skin was black? If you have a garden that is drying up, do you care if it rains?
Maggie loved me. She fixed me two poached eggs, grits (she grew up in southern Texas), and two slices of toasted wholewheat bread buttered every morning for years. She washed my clothes. If I needed a spanking, she spanked me. If I needed a hug, she hugged me. I could feel Maggie's LOVE.
My biological mother never entered my bedroom when I was in it. Maggie did.
I remember one incident in particular. I was a kid. I was sick in bed. I distinctly remember Maggie coming into my room with something to eat and a Squirt to drink. I had never drunk a Squirt before, but apparently Maggie loved it. (Maggie and Floyd, her husband, lived in our house in an apartment on the third floor.) The Squirt unconsciously symbolized her LOVE for me.
In my early 30s, I entered psychotherapy with Dr. Patricia Norris at the famous Menninger Foundation. We used what I was to refer to as "unguided" imagery. (Most refer to this modality as guided imaginary,) I worked with Pat, as I came to call her, a long time.
In short, the way it worked was that as we sat in our chairs, we both closed our eyes and waited for something to come into my mind, which I then would share with Pat. The long story was that Pat became my surrogate mother. We experienced many loving moments in our "unguided" imagery. The LOVE I felt from Pat, though through imagery, was real. I was finally and fully loved, and that made me who I am today.
Hate is not the opposite of love. It is the absence of love. Those who suffer from the paucity of LOVE unconsciously try to compensate for its dearth through becoming wealthy, then mega wealthy; by garnering fame; or by accruing power. None works.
But LOVE works. The more of it you share, the more you have to share.
Earth suffers so greatly from the lack of LOVE that it is dying. But even if one human being feels love, that love can spread like wildfire.
Let's hope the wildfire of LOVE spreads over Earth entirely and soon.
It is utterly plausible that it can happen.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Jan 27, 2021
Jan 27, 2021 at 3:01 PM UTC
She could have wrote me a thousand words,
But out of all the words in the world,
In many of a different language,
With a different tongue,
She chose the word, Love,
At first, she didn't know how to say it,
But simply because, she couldn't
In any way, we didn't know how,
But she saw me,
And with the way that she stared into,
What seemed like dark brown eyes,
The gloss in her eyes saw what was truly inside,
We fell in love once,
Not with the same,
But with a difference,
She loved one as I another,
And as one passed by the other,
We exchanged without visibility to arrange,
Just fell in places we never dreamed,
As days flew by,
Feelings became stronger,
Waiting felt longer,
But, we would gaze and ponder,
Enjoying what would feel like the rest of our lives,
At that moment,
A painful smile ran across through her face,
But trips like these made her lost in her place,
By the time she tried to make sense of it,
Her mouth opened only to be choked by tears,
Taking but a few steps back,
It was hard to believe presence could destroy the essence,
But she knew I saw too much,
For her walls slowly began to close,
The pain that was once written all over her face,
Started changing words into "Okay",
With cold hands,
Her lifeless face was shown,
Without a word to believe,
She let go of her warmth,
And conversations that once were,
Simply became one-worded answers,
From one thing to the next,
Love showed like the text,
Without emotion,
She knew she couldn't say it,
She wouldn't,
Days would pass across unguided mirrors and silent floors,
As ceilings would fall like how tears would pour,
At first, her mind would set off,
But as spacious she was,
Her tears continued to fall,
Throughout it all,
I could see her drift farther from my reach,
While her pain would show each and every moment,
I grabbed her hand,
Again I looked through the confusion of,
Emotionally lifeless eyes,
But before I lost her,
I whispered in her ear,
Love is Bittersweet
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 5:08 PM UTC
Who is this impostor,
glimpsed with horror
in the department store window?
He apes my movements
but fails to capture
their athleticism,
spring-loaded inside an easy grace.
Ladies and gentlemen, do not be deceived.
Disregard those who think they know me.
This shambling simulacrum
is not me.
Perhaps my Nobel prize
is just a might-have-been,
my endowments only imagined.
But I am who I want me to be.
All aboard for the unguided tour!
Already begun, pre-planned
by an unknown administrator,
its detailed itinerary remains unpublished.
The last stage is, they say, less delightful than the others.
It passes through the poorer districts;
one sees industrial squalor and boarded-up lives.
I can leave the tour at any time.
I am who I want me to be.
Discomfort and dissolution do not belong in my world.
I am not the kind of person to ever be distraught.
So oblivion shall not swallow my love's soul.
Not all at once,
not piece by piece.
Not even a little.
Her identity must not be corrupted.
We are who I want us to be.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 7:00 AM UTC
As i walk through the city night
And think about all that's been left behind
You could forgive me for wondering why
Anything that happens, happens in this life
Mother made me promise not to think too hard
About what everything means and how to read the signs
That make me think too long anout what they mean to me
So that all the time i think, my eyes don't see
Everything beneath me that's at my feet
And all of the pain, in the people who walk along side of me
Walk with me through these condemmed streets, ribbons lace your golden hair
I look across from the old schoolgrounds, there's ribbons everywhere
I don't know what those ribbons mean, to mourn a loss or to hope for some freedom
Ribbons, ribbons, just ribbons everywhere i look
Ribbons, ribbons, just ribbons all around us
So let me take out those blue ribbons, that flow freely through your hair tonight
Tie them around a gate post and let mourners flock by candle light
You will still look as beautiful as the ribbon that once held hair from your face
And provide something we could never understand to the pople who flock to this place
Missing people posters
A face thats since been left behind
People knock door to door
Fromt pages of newspapers
Desperation of an unknown kind
If you walk past door at night, yellow ribbons are hope for those who have no hope
People scream lost names at night, their face veiled by candle light smoke
Walk with me through this strange world
There's sorrow everywhere
If it makes you feel better, tie those ribbons through your hair
Sometimes they are all that we have
To show we still think about those.we once had
When it's all over, when it's all said and done
They fly with the wind, like an unguided dove
Clings to branches and settles there
Let someone wonder what it's doing there
They can find in it their own meaning and let it bring what comfort to them they need this time
Walk with me through these condemmed streets, where ribbons lace your hair
I look to the sky each night, ribbons everywhere
Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 4:09 AM UTC
*Calling ambition, loose manes intertwine not goaded,
Creeping low, or unguided down, shh-
Let it stand, tension eases naught-*
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 5:21 PM UTC
Whistle a Dixie marching song
And wave the colored cotton
Remember days when we were young
Lest old ways be forgotten
From Robert E Lee and freedom rides
Was birthed our greater nation
Where trust in liberty resides
United with a passion
Old voices echoed through the South
Emboldened with a fervour
As children full on sated youth
Implore us to remember
Judge not a man but by his deeds
Lest lessons be forsaken
Presume to know naught of his needs
The less to be mistaken
The past has passed, the future lies
Unguarded and unguided,
Whose liberties shall be denied
Has yet to be decided
Whistle a merry marching song
Let each man show his colors
Our children judge us right or wrong
By how we treat our brothers
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 6:11 PM UTC
In case you haven't noticed, I am dull, dull
though tempting still
to men who follow close behind their pointy bits
Yes, I, glory and glamour, unattractive isolated child,
great adventurer, efficient traveler, queen of my enameled laundry *** and tiny oar,
fearless reader of uncomfortable old books about Africa and paperbacks,
seer of mirrors for the first time, knower of a few obscure things,
have been diminished, trapped
in a cage of my own making
hardly gilded
$775 a month with torn floors and bruises, still a good deal,
rent gradually rising
I could strip my skin away to the milk inside
or I could build a great, if dubious ship
and float along the river of fate, unguided now, see how far I get,
bailing myself out for as long as I can
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 4:56 PM UTC
What do we gain from all our endeavors
When all we can see is lost in the confusion
Of a cold and dying world divided forever
Between mindless love and mindless sin
And us hiding from the truth of wisdom
Hiding in the whole wealth of the world
The false prize, the deceitful kingdom
The dishonest end when all is unfurled
Ignoring the thought that drives us mad
The simple way out we all wish we had
The one big thing that can make us or break us
The one big thing that can fully overtake us
It’s a small thought in a grinding machine
Infinitely important, infinitely overlooked
The guide we need to keep ourselves clean
Trying to replace what the biggest lie took
Trying to remake the perfect imbalance
Always unguided and forever planned out
Trying to smooth out this world so callous
Blocking and shading the light we doubt
Never acknowledging that which we feel
Never acknowledging what is truly real
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 9:07 PM UTC
The storm is brewing and it's peaceful in here
There are laughs to be heard, somewhere
and it's peaceful in here
When the wind hits, it's contained
shelved books turn to tatters in my brain
musicals lyricals questioned insane
was the girl who slid down the mountain and landed in shame
at the foot of the grave of the days that made gains
at the back of her head, memories plated in fox fires and red
cheeks
creeps
cheap - you gotta be to survive, sometimes,
right? Freak?
Strum, I'll strum my fingers numb
or teach myself how
Now
The window is breaking under the pressure
A million pieces of my heart are plastered on the walls,
on the floor, in my calls
lost to the no ones I shouted to
Pillows
Things to grasp onto
Holes to tip-toe-topple into
What have you got to lose?
said the girl in the straightjacket whose
shards of hair flew past your periphery
like diamonds shattering in the moonlight
out of sight
out of sight
what is sight?
I heard a shriek-
stricken sighs
eyes
eyes
i's
Stop predicting bad things.
Blink.
Step forward or you'll sink.
The air is around us
The air is surrounding you, you're alone
The world is around me, am I home?
openness - vast, deep, incomprehensible
swallowed my stencils and connected
my pencils to paper and then
opening my mind to the stars
'thank you' spoken softly
unguided but for the shadows cast
on the ground by the clouds
ghouls glittered in the moonlight and
drifted into the cedars
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 9:33 PM UTC
The words
That slipped unguided, that flew
Into you ears
Unsupervised, that leapt outward from
My teeth, flailing
Unintentionally,
Those words were
Deeply rooted
betwix the life I lead &
The one
I merely
Dream of...
Those words were
Drunken
Whispers that clung to
My lips in an
Increasingly ravenous fashion the
More I carried on.
brought on by scented winds;
Their fragrance intoxicating
Any sense of inhibition
I once
Possessed, labeling me
Inadequate
In my
Present form.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 10:42 PM UTC
Beauty and grace,
Sway from place to place.
As you walk down this unguided line,
Though signs are clear.
And quite charmingly here,
This choice of life's undying rhyme.
So what cradled hand that made you,
By the living breath that saved you.
Not always clear cut or on time,
But isn't quite clear?
That's why life is truly dear,
And cannot replace true love's chime.
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
The inner tenacity of my machination is rarely understood by many, an introspections of certain recollections that ponder that question..why? But I need not tell you, about gum on your shoe, or the expletive deleted that come after. So I do open doors, and sit on floors, and give random flowers to random ladies. But I am sucker for a smile, an unpredictable trial, of something so innocent as simple happiness. But Then I surely do jest, at the most convenient time, to make fitting a punch line of a joke. And if merely opulence of thought was my only intent, then blushing is the inevitable conclusion. For if I am too boast, to little more than an atrocious manner, then I too am I fool, and love is the tool of a dumb and blind man's decent. As I oddly beg the question...do you have any cream for my coffee, then sit back and take in the wisdom, of times that are far beyond me. To place with no boundaries or burdens, no dying or decay, a place where I can live a life inside a cherished, loving way. For love is always fleeting, more often flooding in, I grab a cup and sit back, it's time to enjoy the days begin. Cause the sun is just about to rise and being to realize, this is some awesome free writin, that almost feel like I might just be bitin, some style that heard through words orchestrated from past memories flowing through an electrical breeze. But I am no artist, no rapper by design, I am merely a healer of the mind. Given the skills of mental manipulation over unguided emotional frustrations that are products of blinded attention to feelings within the heart. The mind is a terrible thing to waste.....but an unbridled heart can lay waste to it all! Logic is the mind...emotions are the heart...watch what happens when one pulls these two apart, into a tragic representation of what it means to be truly scared, a blessed manifestation of a ****** ******
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 9:06 AM UTC
I'm a professor who professes to teach beyond the textbook lessons. To approach the very essence of the creative self-expression,
Known as man and known as woman. Call you to a higher ed concessions, to appoint the very purpose of this presupposed oppression,
Of your eyes, and of your mind, I wish you to the other side, of the unguided and unknowing creative self which lies inside.
Cause what is life without perspective, and what are trials if you do not try, and strive beyond your own horizons, and slide down the back of the other side?
Will there be shadows on the road, yes, will you trip and stumble, a couple of times, but never let yourself be doubtful of the potential you hold inside,
To create the future, sculpt the present, and tread the clay where it resides. Because in class is where I see you, but in this life you use your eyes,
To see the self-inside of others, to recreate what's on your mind. To be the difference and the vision, you have the tools to go and try,
And share your view of the horizon, survive the frustration in stride. Become creative in your endeavors, and you’ll bring joy to me and my eyes.
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 1:46 PM UTC
BLACK COTTON:
Black cotton
They don’t here me
They won’t listen
Didn’t even believe
When Tupac shakur was here
Y do we work like slaves
And so hard
We work hard but barely get paid
We use to have troops
But they killing off the youth
They didn’t care
When Tupac Shakur was here
Black cotton
I’m steady hoping over
Enemy lines
I hear the cries of our ancestors
Which lies between our ears
BLACK COTTON
Which GODs are theirs
As we watch them dictate our graves
Roll one
Pass some
Live to blaze the pain away
Never could I imagine
Not a day
That I didn’t get up and pray
I say
Let me live and breathe
Another day
Don’t let me go to jail today
Because of the skin of my face
Christianity you say
Prays of CHRIST name
Images of make America great
False idolizing through faith
Mask off our culture fame
BLACK COTTON
Be born to chase a dream
Anything you want to be
The race of our lives
Is constantly
Just a turtle trying to complete the race
Contemplating my worth
Just black words written
To white out the ages
Courages and so strong
BLACK COTTON
Written words of life
Whose life?
Unguided through the white light
Too deep for your religion to season
BLACK COTTON
All praise to the most high
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 6:07 PM UTC