May Challenge Of The Month:
A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words.....

This months challenge is fairly simple.... they say a picture is worth a thousand words....so look at the pictures in the links below and write a piece inspired by one of them. (And length/style) Write as many as you like. Make sure to say which picture inspired it.....
Pictures:

_________________________________________
"Too weird to live.... too rare to die..."

IG: KnowOne215 | PS+ ID: KnowOne215

Hi.Honestly these pictures are so graphic,Im trying to look past and write,this is a challenge for me,but can be accoomplished

Pretty Girl

I'll be adding some more pic later that my be a lil easier to relate to.

_________________________________________
"Too weird to live.... too rare to die..."

IG: KnowOne215 | PS+ ID: KnowOne215

===========================

"Pimping ain't art...but grabbing guns is?!"
(c) Menphyel

"I've come to realise that I never loved Hip-Hop as a whole,
just a particular era that happened at the same time as
I was actively checking actively for new music."

as much as i would love to take partial credit...

This is all Kno'

And it's awesome!

----------------------
Cop my stuff, mayne!

My first chapbook: "This Chapbook Was Made With Pilfered Office Products" available now - $6.00

My 2nd chapbook, coming in 2007: "Orgasms and Ice Cream"

fmi: http://www.myspace.com/delrica

n/m

_________________________________________
"Too weird to live.... too rare to die..."

IG: KnowOne215 | PS+ ID: KnowOne215

peaceful
i am sitting
head bowed
eyes closed
heart open---
here i am
taking in all
the wind around
me has
to give.
meditation.



















================
are one
individual. ©sunshine

------------------------------
my work
http://meetmsmindful.wordpress.com
http://www.lulu.com/content/7598631
http://evan-roth.com/grey.php

seems all too easy to
want to do this

cause in the end
it is just me allowing this to happen

a peaceful expire,baby

cause f'real
yeah,i could blame whats around me
on my own demise

these fuckin'crackas would love to see me rot
from a tree,right

but again yet in the end
it was me
and my own laziness

my own lack
that put me on this limb

realizing now how much more effective
i couldve been
more determined to want to live
but since allowing myself not to want

eternal slumber seemed like the best way
to sleep through a another
and any more days
to come

damn

wish i could do it all over again
so much more i couldve done,y'know

goodnight

----------sig-----------

http://unclevicart.com/

me and the fellas would converge and heat up some Hot Pockets in preparation for Rap City.© Roc

dude, getting a response from the folks at freestyle is like watching water boil...© Tek

and a lame mourning--

got me yawning at all these excuses
that we must waive our right to transform into nooses
the truth is
that our possibilities are endless
to bend this
misery into irrelevant pasts with
passion that could end this
and send this
to hell
but we know all too well
that there are evils at work
but their are evils at home
dont you grow tired of looking out those two eyes without searching your soul??

on the whole..

if slavery was bad,
why are we still lookin at it
for inspiration?
is hate not the root of hate's elongation?
call me impatient,
call me insensitive
but i dont give a fuck about the world that used to live
cause this is the now, the present..
i dont have to draw on the past just to create my presence
yall teach eachother that ancestry equals your extra-rights
but fuck history, thats not right to me
cause we're not slave masters or slaves
except in the places where those things still exist to this day
and then the media doesnt even come to play
do they?
No, cameras and them freedom fighters tend to stay away from the truth
cause it in itself is a very strange fruit

trilla.

I leave these
precious rubies
as a parting gift
a vivid reminder of vitality
how easily
beauty refracts through a single gem
into a priceless prism few fail to see

"To be a poet is a condition, not a profession."
- Robert Frost

http://inevitabletruth.blogspot.com/
http://www.lulu.com/content/187759
http://www.hdfest.com/Barry/allreviewsbarry.html
http://wishbonec.wordpress.com/

This is impressive.......just wow....this was felt!

_________________________________________
"Too weird to live.... too rare to die..."

IG: KnowOne215 | PS+ ID: KnowOne215

You make me smile
Whether I want to
Or not
Tugging at the corners of my mouth
You part my lips
As my teeth bare witness to the fact
That the brightness you see reflected
In your eyes
Hides dark secrets
Only --
My lips and heart don't always speak
To each other
So you may never know
How forced this smile really is
But I will smile for you
Because it makes YOU smile
And my secrets are safe
Until the lock on my heart is broken

A guitar string vibrating, a measure of my soul, a breech in the silence --
I've always felt like words come through me & I write them down... they have no master --- gsquared ♥

http://www.soundclick.com/bands/2/photosynthesis_music.htm

You stop and stair
Some jubilant at my demise
Though you fail to realize
I’m still here
What once flowed through my veins
Now stains my shirt
Listen closely
My heart beats on
Riga mortise might know this frame
Yet the earth gave birth to more of me
Soon these same trees will speak of me
Again you live in fear of me
Until the times comes
When I pluck a grape from the vine
hold your life in my hands
Show you what Jesus felt before his resurrection

I create a thousand pictures with few words and open my minds eye for you to see beyond words.

it's been awhile since i posted here...oh well heres a nice inspired poetry keystyle

im disillusioned, lookin at my final solution -//
as its intruding in my mind with confusion//
im in a constant fight, taunted by life//
its like a boxing match and -//
every punch i throw, is another i have to take//
im massaging the trigger with high vigour//
slowly pressin on the mechnasim for shots to flicker//
wondering, what will happen, or who will care//
its a cruel scare, but curiousity got me//
but wasnt it curiousity that killed the kat?//
a furious monstrosity is seen through my cataracts//
as my logic's barriers grew heavier then collapsed//
went out one night, took the gun, and saw it//
i began to go slowly toward the grocery store//
picked out possible victims -//
got in, grabbed then threatened to clip them//
"Dont Shoot!" cries began slippin//
i managed to get the cash real fast//
but somebody wanted to be a hero//
i pointed the gun and made em lesser then zero//
then sadly i started shooting randomly//
i chuckled a laugh, at the blood bath//
ran out, and disappeared in the shadows//
relieved, as my heart was satisfied//
then my happiness was deprived when my logic arrived//
thats when i realized what i had done//
noone was suppose to get hurt, i looked at the gun//
windows of opportunity, kill off your mental immunity//
cause i was never a killer, till that window opened//
i flipped out, and didnt know what to do, i got depressed//
the moment i accidently evicted a bullet at my chest//
my heart got tired of pumpin blood, and finally needed a rest//

its been awhile since i posted here...anyway heres a picture inspired poetry keystyle...


im disillusioned, lookin at my final solution -//
as its intruding in my mind with confusion//
im in a constant fight, taunted by life//
its like a boxing match and -//
every punch i throw, is another i have to take//
im massaging the trigger with high vigour//
slowly pressin on the mechnasim for shots to flicker//
wondering, what will happen, or who will care//
its a cruel scare, but curiousity got me//
but wasnt it curiousity that killed the kat?//
a furious monstrosity was seen through my cataracts//
as my logic's weak barriers got heavier and collapsed//
went out one night, took the gun and hid from light//
i had to go slowly toward the grocery store//
picked out possible victims -//
got in, grabbed then threatened to clip them//
"Dont Shoot!" cries began slippin//
i managed to get the cash real fast//
but somebody wanted to be a hero//
i pointed the gun and made em lesser then zero//
then sadly i started shooting randomly//
i chuckled a laugh, at the blood bath//
ran out, and disappeared in the shadows//
relieved, till my heart was satisfied//
then my happiness was deprived when my logic arrived//
thats when i realized what i had done//
noone was suppose to get hurt, i looked at the gun//
windows of opportunity, kill of your mental immunity//
cause i was never a killer, till that window opened//
i flipped out, and didnt know what to do, i got depressed//
the moment i accidently evicted a bullet at my chest//
my heart got tired of pumpin blood, and finally needed a rest//

?? i replied twice with an inspired verse but it didnt post it

she spread his legs out
surrounded
thick
he wrapped his torso around
her center
shivering
backs quivering at their pulse
she stood, inching her way up
the shivering
noble, yet tired
they touched
said the man to the woman
"deafened mumbles"
stumbling down their mouths
pronouncing fate
too dark in the nite
to see the time of day
they insisted on the obvious
skin tightening
friction growing
their bodies hit the end
barreling out of control
the skin broke
standing backwards
he spoke to her face
eye line match
fire sparked tension
tension sparked dialogue
he yelled
she hit the floor
he struck a nerve
cocked back the heat of the night
cold, hard gray
anticipating the impact
she gathered herself in
wondering momentarily
why the quivering had stopped
movement froze
anticipation expanded
mechanics triggered a rush
she triggered it all
his body now being gathered by her too
still
silent
somber
lying naked on the floor
besides the mark
spotting X
marking variables
standing flexed
equation turned into solution
he turned into hate
hate smiled back at him
lovely lips she pouted all along
BANG
consuming his breath
reciting the end
notation fatal to the union
necessary for her prenatal care
staring back at an empty room
smoke, dust, and bad memories
clouded the vision
prisoner no more
she spread his legs out
and gathered a story ready to sell

Cage
Sleep
Instructions
Taken
Meditation
Strange Fruit
untitled
Alone
Final Solution
Smile

(using all of the above cuz i'm bored).

i find that i,
increasingly require a
cage for
my
sleep instructions.

they intrude upon my mind
at inopportune times
my meditation taken for
granted; planted like
land mines just below
the surface of my
consciousness.

they dangle before me.
taunt like strange fruit.
i see myself, swinging, pondered
by devils with grins full of mischief.

this camera is my cage. and when
i can no longer bear to see
myself through this lense of self
hate, i consider sleep instructions.

land mines laying just below
the surface of my mind.
a final solution,
with... just me. alone.
end of
confusion.

each night or lucid daymare
brings me closer to the hanging
tree, closer to the puddled floor,
that last, poignant point and click
flick. untitled for posterity.

i smile for the camera, per the instructions,
and... sleep.








peace & blessings,

x.

"I'm on the Zoloft to keep from killing y'all." - Iron Mike

peace & blessings,

x.

www.twitter.com/poetx

=========================================
I'm an advocate for working smarter, not harder. If you just
focus on working hard you end up making someone else rich and
not having much to show for it. (c) mad

SlEEP will never be my enemy
It always seem like a illusion to me
Perhaps is a form a peace; a release
Though I can not tell if I'm alive when sleep
It's truly deep...
A paradox of what some fear and what everybody will do
And needs...Yo I need the key
Because there are conscious people the walk around doing that five letter word Illustrated in the picture I just seen
Don't let it scare you
It doesn't scare me.. it's just reality
Rest With Peace

~Complex with the creative content on a conquest with concepts and context as concrete as poetry
~Its real and ill when I be sitting still yet still rocking to my mental rhythme.
~Its just right when I write

http://www.myspace.com/decisive147

with a little bit of reverse psychology
That cage represents everything that is free
It reminds that the world can not bind me
I am free to achieve and perceive what I believe
It is poetry
My sentiment is its motion
there are no locks on me
I am floating
My being is manifested into what God chose for me

~Complex with the creative content on a conquest with concepts and context as concrete as poetry
~Its real and ill when I be sitting still yet still rocking to my mental rhythme.
~Its just right when I write

http://www.myspace.com/decisive147

Final resolution...........hmmm.......
All I can think of is do unto others
As you want done unto you and
How the world has become so genocidal
Damned....I shot myself but I aimed at you
Does that make my death so terrible
No need to image it because its the cycle
to recycle the hatred

It's so much pressure
Devils attack my focus while I contempleting
I can't make a move without praying and meditating
So when I come to a crossroads I find myself debating
Between guns and roses
Mentally saying they should come in a package deal
How often do ever see one without other
but Cain why do you always slay your brother?

~Complex with the creative content on a conquest with concepts and context as concrete as poetry
~Its real and ill when I be sitting still yet still rocking to my mental rhythme.
~Its just right when I write

http://www.myspace.com/decisive147

Instructions

Proceeds with caution
Here lies a gate to emotional opression
That's hard to fathom and to contemplate
Is only a hypothetical situation I infactuate
In the process of saying grace
Almost suddenly....Thank you becomes so much easier to say
Life and death is a game i pray not to play
Imagine a single decision having the burden of such much at stake
I try not to relate
for the sake of my faith
yet still it is instituted every day on que
And in routines that would seem obvious to perhaps you
but is the truth of life to me
I guess to each his own is the story's theme.

~Complex with the creative content on a conquest with concepts and context as concrete as poetry
~Its real and ill when I be sitting still yet still rocking to my mental rhythme.
~Its just right when I write

http://www.myspace.com/decisive147

Strange Fruit...from the garden of hethens
Black and white
Wrong or right
at times seems like a never ending fight
Though this fruit I don't like
Has no passion to share only retaliation and despair
No care for human life
Pure hatred and strife

That's fruit I can not get used to seeing
hanging from trees
They look to much like me and the son to come after me
And lot a white say that racism is something their mind
Can't conceive....
That I just can't believe completely
They look so comfortable
And there's one gentleman is specific
that is smiling so naturally
And if after 400 years we're still seeing these type of things
Then their mentality is manifesting similarly

That's a little more than possibility
I don't like to harp on these things politically
But can you grow a human being?
so why hang them from a tree?
Let me stop because the more I write
the more it sickens me

~Complex with the creative content on a conquest with concepts and context as concrete as poetry
~Its real and ill when I be sitting still yet still rocking to my mental rhythme.
~Its just right when I write

http://www.myspace.com/decisive147

*sleep*

a black and white dilemma
pain of the struggle in the
splatter
of a battered
women and her heart ripped away
left only the blood of the last day
she will face
a black and white dilemma
did some one slit her wrist
was it her other self?
her demons took her in...
for every finger in the room
holds its breath to see
the girl who couldn't live another day to realize
that all she was...was free
she just couldn't see
past catastrophe
of a black and white dilemma into the colors of her heart
she wrapped herself in black plastic and fishnet stalkings
because she couldn't find the color she wanted glowing
but then decided red would make the best showing
so she tore everything apart starting with the flow of the most vital organ
her heart
layed out in disbelief
as she tired of the sight, she crept into nothing
from the feeling of just wanting to be something
other than a black and white dilemma

~~~~~~~~ luv R.
https://www.facebook.com/robyn.wildchild12
psycho.
"Institutions encourage us to consider the opinions they sell as "facts" and that we "believe" rather than question the morality they pitch."
cities need fewer shopping malls and more skat

As i lay my head to rest
with blood rushing from my head
blood stained on my hands
blood pumping in my chest
i realize that ive fallen into infatuation with that which
converts our breath into life
i awake in the middle of the night
and bathe in the blood of the dead
so that their blood can become the force of the living instead
they've said that it's a terrifying sight
but i release souls from their struggle when the pressure they cant fight
now i dont take life..but i do take blood
and fuck vampires, murderrers, and wack ass thugs
cause if only my enemies werent dirty as fuck
id consume their hearts in the truth they've fought

so give thought to all these pictures that tend to pop
into average minds--thinking they elevated when they search to find
a meaning to demeaning miseries that they milk to death
a picture of a man lynched--a picture of a corner--a man hanging his head--is this the path to knowledge

not likely not even not balanced not acknowledged as the truth in the ending--more like escapist propagandas

((wo))

i knew this boy
he was dilute
he thought death was the final sargent commanded salute of truth
mixed death with life instead of living his purpose
never found the words to be heard of this
if you pass the day
thinking about how insane it would be
to take a rope
and play that way
instead of jumping over it time and time again
then my friend
you ain't living
and you ain't tryin
you just tryin to get attention with what looks violent
cuz you think they didn't love you
because they didn't care
cuz you couldn't deal with them leaving you alone out there
i've had my moments of that thought
but that thought didn't prevent me from thinking ahead
to the next step
but at every intersection
you think you are nothing
and as soon as you accept that only then will you become something
get some help
some rest and some peace
instead your burning yourself and your bridge
just to win

its not about sex or power or money or love
its about who you are and what you was
that transformed into something god sent from above...

UNTIE YOURSELF BEFORE I MAKE YOU DEAL WITH THE CONSEQUENCES.

(the pictures coulda been a little more diverse in the emotion of what we could have written about... maybe next time... )

~~~~~~~~ luv R.
https://www.facebook.com/robyn.wildchild12
psycho.
"Institutions encourage us to consider the opinions they sell as "facts" and that we "believe" rather than question the morality they pitch."
cities need fewer shopping malls and more skat

they are smiling
like its a celebration,
i can hear an applause
through the rope and
bulging eyes and
distant cries of
the innocent and the guilty
and time...
things havent changed
as much as one would
love to believe

to give us a few
more acres and an ass
ain't reparations,
to tip the earth on
its axis and rearrange
space-time wouldnt be
enough for the
bloody necks,
the deferred dreams
the unaswered cries
of the afro-american
dream drenched in
a middle passage nightmare.


show me a plantation
and i'll show you
and urban re-concentration
camp, shadowed by
skyline and paycheck
and affirmative action
and the "right" to vote
for bobbing heads in
an ocean of white lies

cut the fucking rope,
tie the children of the
lost souls that thought
hatred was the right
of a God that was
made in "our" image.

strange fruit grows
on dead trees,
but the root of madness
is not of the soil
which holds the stories
of darkened flesh,

tamed only
by the complacency
of forgetting...

the struggle
is so alive,
we try to kill
it everyday with
nothing but

more strange fruit.


RIP (the 400-year black man woman bastard children of american blood boiling hypocrisy drowning out the voices of the white curse)...peace. love. a light above all...darkness...living.




*********************************

she loves me...more than she knows.

exist in limbo.

"when my love comes to see me it’s
just a little like music,a
little more like curving colour(say
orange)
against silence,or darkness…" -e.e. cummings


"we are accidents waiting to happen" -radiohead

"Poetry is a kind of distilled insinuation. It’s a way of expanding and talking around an idea or a question. Sometimes, more actually gets said through such a technique than a full frontal assault." -Yusef Komunyakaa

"The Black Artist's role in America is to aid in the destruction of America as he knows it. His role is to report and reflect so precisely the nature of the society, and of himself in that society, that other men will be moved by the exactness of his rendering and, if they are black men, grow strong through this moving, having seen their own strength, and weakness; and if they are white men, tremble, curse, and go mad, because they will be drenched with the filth of their evil."

-Amiri Baraka, from "State/meant" in the essay, "Home"

"My love is my soul's imagination. How do I love thee?...Imagine." -Saul Williams

***********************************
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=500290931


myself is sculptor of
your body’s idiom:
the musician of your wrists;
the poet who is afraid
only to mistranslate
a rhythm in your hair...
-E.E. Cummings

Feeling deaf to the sound of life to the point where
death plays a better tune. Instructions to take my life
lookin betta every second as in this loneliness my heart is consumed.
But hopefully the ruby embers that keep me walking
this hell that i call existence simply pour out of me
and spread to the rest of the world bring wealth to others
since that's what everyones after anyway.

______________________________
"Cocaine is a hell of a drug!" - Rick James

"I'm Rick James bitch!" - Dave Chappelle

"Things fall apart and tend to shatter, she like that shit don't matter when i get home get at cha..." - The Roots "You Got Me"

"Sometimes i wanna write rhymes bout true crimes that have affected my community but we were to blind to see since our minds were under that mental slavery but there was one lone voice that cried out among the people." - Bonita

"Life is but a trickle of existence where we are mere beings pursuing a greater purpose." - Bonita

"Friends don't shake hands, friends HUG!!" - Davey D.

"I love hugs!!!!!" - Bonita

Peace, luv, and scented candles ya'll

Bonita A.

"i wanna hug all u idiotic bastards & then set you all on fire" -Bin

www.twitter.com/bedstuybetty
http://bedstuybetty.tumblr.com/
DROkayplayer: Giving you good puff since May '05

my fear for black america

..

Behind various strands
of straight growth—
but deeper, even than—

into the eyes, wells (deeper than
imagined),
two surprised blooms—
flowering showings of surprise (not

the happy! -surprise)

but as in why?—are
those hands pulling,
reshaping the collection
of emotions

that are (what is taught) to come
naturally. For the camera—
in that instant lightning

the face is changed till
the darkroom can develop
a sensitive replacement budding
the truth across the plastic
face.

----------------------------------------
www.felinosoriano.com

My chapbook, "Exhibits Require Understanding Open Eyes" available from Trainwreck Press: http://www.ditchpoetry.com/trainwreckpress.htm

I wonder
If anyone knows what I been through
Hours alone in my dark room
Getting all these thoughts and ideas in my head
Very angry at the world but too afraid that
Anyone would find out about the scars on my arm
That first were wounds, I did myself harm
Many don't understand, why I hurt myself
Even when I told a close friend
She said, that it was all in my head
And that, I shouldn't pose with things like that
After that, conversation I got more mad
And came to the conclusion I do not regret
What I've done to myself or that I might need help
At the lowest point that I mentally could reach
I met this important person that I had to meet
A light point, something to look forward too
Made me realize that even I am mortal too
For once, I wasn't really alone anymore
Thank you special person, I appreciate you for
your kindness
but nonetheless
blue spots disappear but the scars on my arm don't
and the mental scars will be there till i'm old

● http://mylouoord.com/ ●

i'll see what i can do

-----sig starts here-----
interested in buying my chapbook,
"Transfer"? Just visit http://myspace.com/alanking81

or

http://myspace.com/bustransfer
(see what people are saying
about "Transfer")

"I used to walk through the valley
like Psalms 27"
--

In my 8th grade social studies class,
"lynching"
was a vocabulary word.
We studied the Native Americans as if they were fictional characters,
and learned that obliterating Hiroshima was "controversial."
Three weeks seemed good enough for 400 years.
We learned that strange fruit miraculously fell as far from the tree as possible, and stopped growing in the 1960's. They cut down all of the trees since then, and you can only find the seeds anymore in a few small towns in the south.
It's illegal now, you know, like marijuana.

oh shit!

your vision is one i'd like to see more often.

damn


***********************************
i love you all

"when my love comes to see me it’s
just a little like music,a
little more like curving colour(say
orange)
against silence,or darkness…" -e.e. cummings


"we are accidents waiting to happen" -radiohead

"Poetry is a kind of distilled insinuation. It’s a way of expanding and talking around an idea or a question. Sometimes, more actually gets said through such a technique than a full frontal assault." -Yusef Komunyakaa

"The Black Artist's role in America is to aid in the destruction of America as he knows it. His role is to report and reflect so precisely the nature of the society, and of himself in that society, that other men will be moved by the exactness of his rendering and, if they are black men, grow strong through this moving, having seen their own strength, and weakness; and if they are white men, tremble, curse, and go mad, because they will be drenched with the filth of their evil."

-Amiri Baraka, from "State/meant" in the essay, "Home"

"My love is my soul's imagination. How do I love thee?...Imagine." -Saul Williams

***********************************
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=500290931


myself is sculptor of
your body’s idiom:
the musician of your wrists;
the poet who is afraid
only to mistranslate
a rhythm in your hair...
-E.E. Cummings

the last line is great.

___________________________
-Phyllis-


and the soul sings on...

inspired by

you gave me back my heart
and it exploded in my hand
so grand,
very eloquent...
the way it bent,
contorted to the demise,
breaking into pieces, shooting blood into my eyes
so now they're the redest red,
they drip like a bed
of roses in the pupil reside,
i look in the mirror, got nowhere to hide
from the way they slant,
the way you don't care,
my life colorless, the black of my hair
that exudes through my everyday being,
the only color in my life comes from my eyes as they are bleeding.

i have no heart
because you stole it for good,
pretend to replace it
my breath is the hood..
so lifeless, hopeless, no chance as it lays
i have no heart
on the floor in a daze
i just sleep it away,
haunted by dreams,
i sleep it away
and i'm ripped at the seams
i come apart...
laugh at the sky, tells me I
have no heart.

inspired by strange fruit

if this is the way it must be
i will lie face up on
red fertilized earth
and paint a tearless legacy on tea leaves
for my children to read
while the night is still black and smokeless
they will know me

http://www.myspace.com/n_a_a

ma, why?
they toxic baby,
p o i s o n.
fuck they.
fuck they.



love me.

sex...!
overrated
in every
way imaginable!
pleasure driven horny bastids.


love me.