"wip" poems
In 1963
Mahalia prodded
the good reverend...
“tell them
about the dream
Martin”
transfixed on
a yonder time
he recounted
prophecies of
a near future
from a mountaintop
he foretold a
history of a people
returned again to
gardens of paradise
thriving in friendly
democratic soils
overflowing with a
colorful biodiversity
governed and
nurtured with a
vibrant sunshine
of divine justice
welcoming all
weary sojourners...
from the
pinnacle of
a Birmingham
jail cell
Martin burst
the bars with
the clarion peel
of a golden trumpet
proclaiming the gospel
of liberation to
the wardens of
unholy gulags
“free yourselves”
the horn emblazoned
in streaking lightning
across the sky
cowed by
prophetic truths
of righteousness,
shamed by
lies the pride
of arrogance
bespeaks to
placate the
intransigence
of dominion,
we prayed the
the walls of racism,
bigotry, prejudice
would tumble down as
Martin lit the Battle
of Jericho
today our country’s
profit driven gulags
overflow with people
of color as justice
lingers on death row
begging for a plea bargain
of a life sentence in
solitary confinement...
from the
****** Sunday Bridge
in Selma, Martin
offered a prayer for
peace, rebuking
the dogs of war
admonishing
the tenders of
blood thirsty
machines to
beat the gears
of war into
pruning hooks
and plowshares
advocates of peace
hope to steer
the plow across
the battlefields of
acrimony to sow
rich seeds of
reconciliation, planting
new gardens where
the rich yields of peace
will be consumed
by all God's children
yet these gardens
remain unplanted,
untended and defiled
by the machinery
of war that churns
churns, churns...
Martin last
dream occurred
on a balcony
in Memphis
witnessing
to the divinity
of those considered
untouchable after
a hard days work
collecting a city’s
refuse
he insisted all labor
was worthy of dignity
and the economic
justice of a fair wage
Martin looked squarely
into the eye of the gun sights
of those who thought differently
he never blinked, he dreamed
Martin formed his last
testament to an angry nation
yearning for the reconciliation
of stability and peace,
unmoved that it’s violence,
exploitation and bigotry only
stoke bonfires of acrimony
and division, condemning
the reprobate principality
to the bleakness of a
smoldering discontent and
continued generations
of recurring nightmares…
Martin's dream continues
in awakened hearts
sojourning on
Music Selection:
Mahalia Jackson
Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho
MLK Day
2014
Oakland
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
I Dreamt a Dream! what can it mean?
And that I was a maiden Queen:
Guarded by an Angel mild;
Witless woe, was neer beguil’d!
And I wept both night and day
And he wip’d my tears away
And I wept both day and night
And hid from him my hearts delight
So he took his wings and fled:
Then the morn blush’d rosy red:
I dried my tears & armd my fears,
With ten thousand shields and spears.
Soon my Angel came again;
I was arm’d, he came in vain:
For the time of youth was fled
And grey hairs were on my head
4.8k
Paralysis
Crippled
By fear
Or anxiety
Depression
Like the gaze of a basilisk
Sinking
Unable to swim
All the lifeguards look like sharks
Manage to struggle in the currents
Further and further
Swimming
Away from the shore
On purpose
People can tell you you're Superman
But when you are your own kryptonite
Why even try to swim
Being crippled
By the basilisk
Its grasp never loosens
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 6:49 PM UTC
Two bits of cardboard stuck onto each other.
Perfectly fitting, but you unmake me sober.
Three double bends with the bone folder.
A figure of a bird, and his broken cage lying in the corner.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 5:24 AM UTC
the ferocious coithus interrupted,
for that look, of a feline woman
of lioness on fire
your body, screaming for the
placer, hidden in your own
body.
claming for a lascivious touch,
looking for me to wip you
tiernamente.
and then love you in silence.
the feroucious torsion, of
your body, touching
mine.
the litlle fire, become
explosion, in your gutts, of,
feline woman.
your roaring for my bite,
then you stay quiet,
looking silent.
for that loved beast,
to **** you in the dark,
as a good girl, wanting
danger.
and the equinoctial touch,
becomes plaseant.
as if the pain and the lost,
where the exquisite consecuense,
of being wath you are,
a lioness.
a goddess biting the dust,
between the lost and the
exquisit, of your fall,
of your humanisation.
being lost you find your center,
your lioness, roaring,
oh loved beast.
lost in the estertors,
of your insides, on fire,
and between that fire,
you found her.
your lioness, your leopard,
wild beautiful,
and serene,
adored, loved,
free,
mine.
my leopard.
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
Hey, Stay Awake For Everything We Made
To Escape!, It's Something We Never Like
Drives Me Mad, And Takes Me To The Wild
Till Every Bone On Me Started To Shake
Through The Darkness The Words Fade
And My Whole Life Became A ***** Lake
To Reflect The Moon In His Silly Shape
Could You Lie About What's Only Fake!
Say It With The Vibration Field Of The Lip
Say It As Long You Know you're The Sneak
There Will Be No Victime After The wip
There Will Be No World After The Struck
Hold On!, Hold! While I **** Myself To See My Soul
Hold On!, Hold! To Strike What Moves That Doll
Free That Soul, Free Me As Long You Can Keep The Skull
Hold On!, Hold! While I **** Myself To See My Soul
I'm Not Strong Enough To Stay In Your World
Such A Fire I Keep Fueling Your Silly Flames
The only Thing I Admire Is The Dark Cloud
It's Crying And Never Looked The Same
Draw On The Sky How I'm Stripped Of My Pride
With Some lightning It's Your Show Time
To Skip The Clones And Add Some Shade
But Who Lasts Does Not Look Like It's Me
So Keep Dreaming From A Tee To A Shred
In The End You Will Wake Up Without Me
Hold On!, Hold! While I **** Myself To See My Soul
Hold On!, Hold! To Strike What Moves That Doll
Free That Soul, Free Me As Long You Can Keep The Skull
Hold On!, Hold! While I **** Myself To See My Soul
Author / Aladdin Aures H.
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 8:27 AM UTC
All-Conquering Death! by thy resistless pow’r,
Hope’s tow’ring plumage falls to rise no more!
Of scenes terrestrial how the glories fly,
Forget their splendors, and submit to die!
Who ere escap’d thee, but the saint of old
Beyond the flood in sacred annals told,
And the great sage, whom fiery coursers drew
To heav’n’s bright portals from Elisha’s view;
Wond’ring he gaz’d at the refulgent car,
Then snatch’d the mantle floating on the air.
From Death these only could exemption boast,
And without dying gain’d th’ immortal coast.
Not falling millions sate the tyrant’s mind,
Nor can the victor’s progress be confin’d.
But cease thy strife with Death, fond Nature, cease:
He leads the virtuous to the realms of peace;
His to conduct to the immortal plains,
Where heav’n’s Supreme in bliss and glory reigns.
There sits, illustrious Sir, thy beauteous spouse;
A gem-blaz’d circle beaming on her brows.
Hail’d with acclaim among the heav’nly choirs,
Her soul new-kindling with seraphic fires,
To notes divine she tunes the vocal strings,
While heav’n’s high concave with the music rings.
Virtue’s rewards can mortal pencil paint?
No—all descriptive arts, and eloquence are faint;
Nor canst thou, Oliver, assent refuse
To heav’nly tidings from the Afric muse.
As soon may change thy laws, eternal fate,
As the saint miss the glories I relate;
Or her Benevolence forgotten lie,
Which wip’d the trick’ling tear from Misry’s eye.
Whene’er the adverse winds were known to blow,
When loss to loss ensu’d, and woe to woe,
Calm and serene beneath her father’s hand
She sat resign’d to the divine command.
No longer then, great Sir, her death deplore,
And let us hear the mournful sigh no more,
Restrain the sorrow streaming from thine eye,
Be all thy future moments crown’d with joy!
Nor let thy wishes be to earth confin’d,
But soaring high pursue th’ unbodied mind.
Forgive the muse, forgive th’ advent’rous lays,
That fain thy soul to heav’nly scenes would raise.
2k
*throughout the day,
most oft at night,
start to say,
stop short,
painful for crying out loud thoughts,
shoutouts to any passing god
things that need to the air
be exposed,
but not to ears that
well, what could they say...
so stutter-stop
the bottling inside,
periodic fizz escaping,
and even poetry
cannot help
for it does over and over again,
end up as crumpled papers,
litter of the head,
halves, this's and that's,
even this one dies here and now*
~~~~~~~
irony delicious,
that litter sounds so literary,
so added débris,
lest my mangy constructions
manage to confuse you
the litter in question,
is your host's hors d'oeuvre
nibbles of works,
half-started, half-finished,
like rooms to let,
that come only half-furnished,
not a single morsel worthy
serving up,
all half-satisfactory
poems, of course...
the wrong write ***** clogged,
resting in peace,
Works In Progress (WIP)
unlike the poet,
who's just plain whipped
un-crumpled awaiting
an episodic finale,
if ever they should be televised,
they are needy for cumberbitches,
a birth or death certificate
sore lacking
pick up put down
new titles pop,
essays in need of love,
naught fruited, dead pits,
hanging on the tree till
gravity takes them prisoner
on and on for weeks
the side stitch does not
disappear, but does grow
aching familiar
perhaps the topic offends
you the most,
cloying, suffocating
self-pity
of your own hands
around your neck wrapped...
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 3:21 PM UTC
All my pwoblems,
who knows, maybe evwybody’s pwoblems
is due to da fact, due to da awful twuth
dat I am SPIDERMAN.
I know, I know. All da dumb jokes:
No flies on you, ha ha,
and da ones about what do I do wit all
doze extwa legs in bed. Well, dat’s funny yeah.
But you twy being
SPIDERMAN for a month or two. Go ahead.
You get doze cwazy calls fwom da
Gubbener askin you to twap some booglar who’s
only twying to wip off color T.V. sets.
Now, what do I cawre about T.V. sets?
But I pull on da suit, da stinkin suit,
wit da sucker cups on da fingers,
and get my wopes and wittle bundle of
equipment and den I go flying like cwazy
acwoss da town fwom woof top to woof top.
Till der he is. Some poor dumb color T.V. slob
and I fall on him and we westle a widdle
until I get him all woped. So big deal.
You tink when you SPIDERMAN
der’s sometin big going to happen to you.
Well, I tell you what. It don’t happen dat way.
Nuttin happens. Gubbener calls, I go.
Bwing him to powice, Gubbener calls again,
like dat over and over.
I tink I twy sometin diffunt. I tink I twy
sometin excitin like wacing cawrs. Sometin to make
my heart beat at a difwent wate.
But den you just can’t quit being sometin like
SPIDERMAN.
You SPIDERMAN for life. Fowever. I can’t even
buin my suit. It won’t buin. It’s fwame wesistent.
So maybe dat’s youwr pwoblem too, who knows.
Maybe dat’s da whole pwoblem wif evwytin.
Nobody can buin der suits, dey all fwame wesistent.
Who knows?
--JIM HALL
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 1:57 PM UTC
two roses-
growing in the same bush-
surviving off the same soil-
growing into something beautiful-
becoming something greater-
growing as one
the sun-
shining bright upon them-
encouraging their growth-
lighting up their future-
calming their senses-
kindling the passionate affair-
moving them closer together-
more intimate and dear
the sun neglects its obligation to one of the roses-
refusing a light source for the bloom-
leaving it wilted and begging for nutrients-
brown and fragile-
dying as the sun proceeds to rise over the other rose
the second rose continues growing along with the sun-
in spite of the downfall of the latter-
almost mocking the lesser decaying bloom-
because it has a source of light encouraging its growth-
safe and sound-
not giving any pity to the rotting flower beside it-
soaking up its own source of light-
and not sharing any rays with the decaying blossom-
rendering it useless and unwanted
the selfishness of the one rose-
refusing to share its sunshine with the latter-
results in solely one rose-
instead of two roses
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 12:49 PM UTC
driving in my car
nearing the next intersection
green light
its okay to go
i see you
perpendicular to me
a red light illuminating your face
you appear to be stopping
an illusion of safety
because you are not stopping
neither of us are stopping
we are hurling towards each other
becoming closer and closer together
nearly inches from each other
my life is flashing before my eyes
i look into your big brown eyes
bracing for inevitable impact
and we crash
debris flying everywhere
fire kindling over our engines
metal scraping upon metal
our cars dragging across the cold hard cement
sirens blaring in the distance
i feel blood running down my body
im gasping for breath
unable to move a single limb
but i scan my eyes over the scene
searching for you
i need to make sure you are okay
i see you step out of your vehicle
not a scratch upon your body
i call out for you but no words come out of my mouth
only murmurs
i try to reach out for you
demanding your attention
but i cannot seem to muster the strength
and then your eyes meet mine
and my heart refills with your passion
i remember all the love you have given me before
all the moments we have shared together
you look at me with a cold stare
like you dont even recognize me
then you turn around
begin to walk away from me
and flee the scene of your crime
you left me in ruins
destruction to smithereens
and then walked away like i meant nothing
you were never concerned with me
you were just a reckless driver
and i guess i was just at the right place at the right time
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 7:20 PM UTC
The trees began to bend
sussurus with sound
September was so close
I could smell her breath.
A gold medalist
twirling Oak leaves
in her hands,
gathered
in bunches and
scattered them
skyward
with a gust
of wind.
Remember me
he spins
remember me
in
September,
'neath school books
and apricot Essays,
with necklaces
strung of
purple clover.
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 10:45 AM UTC
one of these days, i'm going to write about how taking care of my heart
is a chore i wish i took more seriously.
every time i try to clear out the cobwebs inside my chest, i bump my head and shoulders into things hooked on its walls; knock my knees and toes into things stuffed in its nooks and crannies.
i would lay low and slowly
unpack the baggage i accumulated and start learning to compartmentalise,
unhang the skeletons of souls that have been chasing me in my dreams,
undogear the chapters that are done and dusted where you, like all the others, remain a metaphor, a foreshadowing, a symbol, a period that i thought would fit my lifelong sentence,
but that's a story for another day.
my obsession with hoarding memories like my life depended on it
has long been a problem
just like my system being an "organised mess"
— you and i both know, i am the mess.
until i can fold away my feelings from my past
and tuck away my thoughts about my future
to make sense of my present,
i will have to keep collecting these scattered words and phrases
waiting to be bound and sealed in a box somewhere.
one of these days, i'm going to write about how taking care of my heart
is a chore i took seriously
so that when it stops beating
it is full
and light
at the same time.
- 20200218
May 28, 2021
May 28, 2021 at 12:53 AM UTC
I am torn
Between the missing and the hurting
The ache you left is still hollow and
I don’t know if time actually heals all wounds or if it just fills them
With one part pretending and seven parts regret and
The mountain of words that is rotting in my belly
Just waiting to erupt from my tired throat
I am torn
Between my heart and my mind
If I don't cage up my thoughts
All they do is wander back to you
My skin tells me that you will be back soon
But this skin has never touched you
It’s been too long
I have since scrubbed you out of my pores and
Washed you away from my sheets
Taken you down from my shelves and
Tucked you away from the light
But when I close my eyes at night they remember
The way your voice tasted when you laughed
I am torn
Between love and resentment
Sappy is sticking to me like a band-aid and
I’m too chicken to rip it off
I’m too stubborn to let myself forget because
If I forget that we existed,
If you never hold my eyes again,
If I let you slip through the cracks,
What will I have
Then
It is a question that I won’t let myself answer
Consider this
Time heals all
Wounds but in the healing
Wounds
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 8:02 PM UTC
Gazing out this open casement
Entranced by the crisp breeze,
Conducted by the moon
The blue of the sky painting the room
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 7:22 PM UTC
Were you a victim?
Were you held captive?
What was the ransom?
How deep was our bond?
Were you in chains?
Forced to be bound to me?
Or is that the way
You want to be seen?
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 1:04 AM UTC
The wind wip's her face
the tree next to her, the only thing to embrace.
In this lonely place.
Staring at the ocean's depth and waves
calling her name.
She comes here on the edge of the cliff
because it makes her feel alive.
And god knows she's dead inside.
She brings her pack
because breathing in the smoke
is less painful than jumping of a chair with a noose around your throat.
But she goes closer to the edge this time
wondering why
she choose's to die
one cigarette at a time
instead of
joining the killing waves.
And ending her days spent in a horrible place.
She peeks over the edge
"go ahead" says her head
she takes a step.
The end.
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 4:53 PM UTC
Stripes black upon the warming orange golden,
she growls, so soft her fur, so sharp her fangs,
clad in black, to hide her stripes, and tears of sorrow.
a red white band upon her arm, sharply turned to black.
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 9:27 PM UTC
When the storms rage in my head
When I'm drowning in my dread
When I'm living like I'm dead
There you are
When I have no hand to hold
When I've lost sight of control
When I can't be strong or bold
There you are
And even though I see no sign above
I'm asking you to give me strength to trust
God you say that you're good
but everything I know
Seems so out of control
And I can't make sense
of where you are in all this mess
and all I feel is my distress
But you say you're here
Could I know you're here?
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 8:09 AM UTC
(Verse 1)
I look up at the sky and see
cascading majesty abundant
Feel so little, feel so small
so insignificant before it
My heart, stained black with
regrets that I ignore
My back stays turned
from shame You said you bore
(Chorus)
And yet, You reach down
to the tiny speck of dust that I am
and You wrap me in Your arms
and I'm overwhelmed
You bore all the sin
for the tiny speck of dust that I am
and You wrap me in Your arms
and I'm overwhelmed
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 9:51 AM UTC
[Intro]
I am swirlin in this pain,
with this windy clatter, now
I'm down there, in the meadow,
Viewing all the beauties, in this world
Alone, I make my voyage
Through the dark and evil night.
[Verse]
In this catastrophic situation,
I throw all my thoughts and pain, on this paper
Through and through I read em pages,
Stalking up my life in a story,
No end to this book,
I feel my body hooked with the sight of you, 'fore my eyes,
Shinin afar like a flashlight,
The outrageous memories,
Drift me away from my sanity
Is this love not worthid?
Is my heart not flourished?
I will root down to the end of this world,
To grasp you between my two fingers,
And revive our love story which for now is going through tragedy.
[Chorus]
I am swirlin in this pain,
with this windy clatter, now.
I'm down there, in the meadow,
Viewing all the beauties, in the world,
Alone, I make my voyage,
Through the dark and evil night.
[Verse]
In this separate scenario, I feel my heart go up to the moon,
Unlike you, I feel sad and my heart feels gloomed,
My drivin devastation makes me wanna throw you off of the roof,
To break your bones into two and wipe off that smile,
Aggravation and hesitation, leads me to strangle you, oh so soon,
**** I need to cool my intoxication and erase the hurt off of my shoulder,
Gradual fits erupt, oh you're doomed,
My blood flows through my veins, gushin' and wellin', aloof.
[Chorus]
I am swirlin' in this pain,
with this windy clatter, now
I'm down there, in the meadow,
Viewing all the beauties, in this world
Alone, I make my voyage
Through the dark and evil night.
[Verse]
Traumatizin and tantalizin at the same time,
You make me look like i'm out there, for so long,
Visualizin our cooperation and I know its nil,
Destroyin my heart into tiny bits,
The furious flames of fire, torturous and imprudent,
Microscopic bits, my heart feels like ****
Have you forgotten our encounter,
**** you, you scoundrel !
I'll burn up my love and spread the Ashes,
You monster, break me a thousand times and I'll make you pay,
You selfish, gutless ****
Meet me again and I'll force you to pick, between a wip or a stick,
Brand you bad and put you in guilt.
Cause i'm sick and tired of listening to your ********
The letters and pictures scattered on the floor,
My body feels like i'm being taken offshore,
But now i'm done and tired of this stupid love.
[Outro]
I am swirlin in this pain,
with this windy clatter, now
I'm down there, in the meadow,
Viewing all the beauties, in this world
Alone, I make my voyage
Through the dark and evil night.
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 4:20 AM UTC
Give me hell
I'll never tell
Pull the rug from down under
Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 5:21 PM UTC
I suit up
I got my war paint on
forward into battle
forwar forward into battle saying
Fire, fire, fire, Fire away
hear the battlecry
hear and sing it like
oohohohohhhoooooh
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 3:33 AM UTC
Everything Is Relative
WIP (Work in Progress)
FRN (Federal Reserve Note)
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 2:16 PM UTC