Go back to previous topic | Forum name | Freestyle Board Archives | Topic subject | post your best piece here! | Topic URL | http://board.okayplayer.com/okp.php?az=show_topic&forum=20&topic_id=7693 |
7693, post your best piece here! Posted by paperdollpoet, Thu Jul-18-02 10:32 AM
calling ALL poets/writers/beings with pens:
this is OUR time to shine, as well as put our written talents to work! this post will serve as the the freestyle board's contribution to the okayauction that is in the making. the auction's proceeds will be donated to a charity that has yet to be decided upon. i'll keep this post up until august 28th! then i will attempt to find the best to way compile the pieces in a book format and send it in to Fireband, who is heading the project.
this is how this is gonna work: - post your best piece here! ONE please! any style, any length, no censorship! check your own grammar..if it isn't important to you then don't! - included title if there is none i'll assume "untitled" - include a BREIF bio. 5 sentences or less. - include the name that you want to be given credit to (screen name, real name, poet name) - *include shoutouts (please keep short) if room is permitted i'll include a thank you page as the last page. please format as so----> paperdollpoet: anthony, amiia, etc etc.
take your time and search for that best piece this will be here until august 28th!
ATTENTION: upon posting your piece here you are saying that you are agreeing that you have given me permission to print your poem and include in this "anthology" as well as aknowledging that this is your work.
for info on the auction: www.okayplayer.com/dcforum/DCForumID1/7943.html
paperposterchildfornothing ---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
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7694, papermoderator. Posted by Aeon, Thu Jul-18-02 11:55 AM
seriously, yo. i'm for it.
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7695, Me too Posted by MeDiNaStaR, Thu Jul-18-02 10:19 PM
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7696, Finally Posted by MeDiNaStaR, Tue Aug-27-02 10:25 AM
Bio: Amal Shirwa..Young Somali Female,Muslima Lives in the Netherlands,Partime Poet.Enjoys life and what it offers...
Why this poem: I was touched by the personal story of Babuya Oleke, a child who suffered from the scars of war. Within this poem I used actual few phrases of his story to capture the pain and ugliness of such a trauma...
shoutout to: love,life and happiness _____________________________________________
Babuya Oleko (Dedicated to all child soldiers) War torn beneath the The Nile West of punt land Beyond the hot smile of the sun
Afrikan boys Freestyle To the beat of gunshots
Blood Rush Bullets Dance To the djole of the djembe's Blood run Fast after Dirty wounds, yellow fever, trench-foot & guilty shock
baby boys masked with fear Young lords of the left front gear Fight the haunted spirits
'Check if they are still alive.'
The boy looked around helplessly.
'Pierce the heart!' the officer yelled
Kill, killed, killing
Blood rush fill rivers of townships heads smashed against the hard mud of mama's hut
KWEI give me your woman.'
But you are only 14.'
Robb her! The soldiers yelled
Rob, Robbed, Robbing
After the hot sun hot Young warriors young Speak lost men tongue And dream about Uhuru songs
~~~~~~~~~~Soulpowa~~~~~~~~~~~
AfrikanproverbMonth:
'Death is like a robe everyone has to wear'. (Mandingo proverb, Guinea)
'Even without drumbeats, banana leaves dance'. (Ekonda proverb, Congo)
'Do not insult a crocodile while your feet are still in the water'. (Nilotic proverb.)
'War has no eyes.' (Swahili proverb.)
'Wisdom does not come overnight.' (Somali proverb)
Bytheway I'm a She..Not a Hehe..okidodo?
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7697, i'm down...sounds wondeful but... Posted by Foneticcus, Thu Jul-18-02 11:45 PM
if i do recall Firebrand's original post, he wanted only material that'd been copywrited, right? does that still hold? r y'all gonna pay 4 copywriting those that get sent in w/out any CW? jus lemme know how it's going down...i'd love 2 help...
papermoderator indeed...lol.
paperrallyin'troops
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7698, let me Posted by paperdollpoet, Fri Jul-19-02 12:51 AM
research copyright prices and standards..
i don't know how it works when copyrighting a rack of folks work under one "book"...as far as if the rights belong to me or what if someone's work is copyrighted already..etc..etc..
and i'll e-mail Fireband and see what I can do...
thank you for the reminder..
paperjustwannabeapoet
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
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7699, OKAY! Posted by paperdollpoet, Fri Jul-19-02 03:22 AM
Fireband got back to me: ======== Sure...they can do a poor man's copyright for now, From: FireBrand Date: Jul 19 2002 And Casworld media will copyright the book itself...I don't know how that will effect the orginal works...but we will need it in by 9/15/02 to be able to copywrite it for ya'll =======
I've inboxed Fireband back and asked if all rights for the works will still remain to the original authors..
i'll post that response when it comes..
so far so good...
we'll make this happen one way or the other..
DAMN THE MAN!
shepapertheonewhoputthesatininyourboxers
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
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7700, All rights protected... according to Fireband. I'll sav Posted by paperdollpoet, Fri Jul-19-02 04:43 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
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7701, I am all for it... Posted by mindful, Fri Jul-19-02 04:29 AM
lei, you know my memory.. please keep reminding me..
I can still feel the chill I reveal my shame to you I wear it like a tattoo © Sade
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7702, RE: post your best piece here! Posted by Bishop, Fri Jul-19-02 04:52 AM
I understand the copyright issue, what I'm confused about is where do we post our works? will it be here in this particular subject title?
Thanks.
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7703, yes.. Posted by paperdollpoet, Fri Jul-19-02 05:01 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
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7704, copyrights Posted by pdafunk, Fri Jul-19-02 05:10 AM
how do you go about getting something copywritten? if it's not a quick answer, i'll just research it myself.
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7705, not a quick answer..but go to askjeevs.com Posted by paperdollpoet, Fri Jul-19-02 05:31 AM
but you can still put your work in the collection b/c casa Media will copyright the collection for us.
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
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7706, Tell you what.... Posted by FireBrand, Fri Jul-19-02 10:01 AM
We will copyright the Anthology itself to prevent piracy, and we will also log an ISBN to help out as well. We wanted copywritten works so YOU feel safe in that CasWorld wasn't going to steal anything from you. Which we aren't. This has a chance to be a big live event in the ATL, and to be sucessful on-line...here is your chance to be seen by the world.
Good luck, and good writing.
Thanks for your help...all that submit will have a vote on the final cause that will be supported. The voting will be done on-line when the auction opens this fall.
------------- avatar? Gregory Issacs...the man.
" If we can't learn to live together despite the turmoil of past generations we are doomed." -Stern
"Why is the country run by an ovbious idiot? Why is New Edition trying to make a comeback? Why are a lot of women attracted to thugs with no potential in life? Who shot J.R.? Why can't I find a woman that knows how to make Lemon Meringue Pie with the little Nilla wafers around the edges? And more importantly, who in the fuck left the gate open?" --Jarek James.
"And where today is the stable community that would sustain such a couple, where one can be both poor and diginified and raise one's children with decency and hope... If the answer is education, does our society adequateley provide that tool of self-improvement to the less well off?"-- Sidney Poitier
" I'm not mad 'cus I'm losing! I'm mad 'cus I don't know how to win!" --Kevin Curtis Daniels Jr.
"And herein lies the tragedy of the age: not that men are poor,-all men know something of poverty; not that men are wicked,-who is good? Not that men are ignorant, -what is Truth? Nay, but that men know so little of men." W.E.B. Dubois
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7707, dwgates@casworldmedia.com is the auction contact. Posted by FireBrand, Sun Jul-21-02 09:48 AM
please forward all information there. Thank you.
------------- avatar? Gregory Issacs...the man.
" If we can't learn to live together despite the turmoil of past generations we are doomed." -Stern
"Why is the country run by an ovbious idiot? Why is New Edition trying to make a comeback? Why are a lot of women attracted to thugs with no potential in life? Who shot J.R.? Why can't I find a woman that knows how to make Lemon Meringue Pie with the little Nilla wafers around the edges? And more importantly, who in the fuck left the gate open?" --Jarek James.
"And where today is the stable community that would sustain such a couple, where one can be both poor and diginified and raise one's children with decency and hope... If the answer is education, does our society adequateley provide that tool of self-improvement to the less well off?"-- Sidney Poitier
" I'm not mad 'cus I'm losing! I'm mad 'cus I don't know how to win!" --Kevin Curtis Daniels Jr.
"And herein lies the tragedy of the age: not that men are poor,-all men know something of poverty; not that men are wicked,-who is good? Not that men are ignorant, -what is Truth? Nay, but that men know so little of men." W.E.B. Dubois
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7708, RE: dwgates@casworldmedia.com is the auction contact. Posted by mizzabztractsol, Sun Jul-21-02 06:07 PM
Okay, I think I wanna post a poem.
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7709, um....humbly raises hand.... Posted by bluetiger, Sun Jul-21-02 08:12 PM
if anyone particularly likes one of my works....let me know because I would like to be included. I just can't decide what to include.
♀¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤♀
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7710, Aug 28 comg soon!! Posted by paperdollpoet, Tue Jul-23-02 12:44 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
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7711, RE: post your best piece here! Posted by LoVeCHRIST, Tue Jul-23-02 04:26 AM
i'm hot
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7712, RE: post your best piece here! Posted by WILDOUT, Tue Jul-23-02 05:06 AM
im confused didnt this say: post ur best peice here i came ready to write where do i post my best peice?? come on...
paper where ya at.. makin me look like a paper chaser. hehehe wildout
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7713, here! Posted by paperdollpoet, Tue Jul-23-02 05:51 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7714, AnitaJ & WILDOUT Posted by WILDOUT, Sat Jul-27-02 12:53 PM
Who is Anita J.? Metaphorically, she is the embodiment of a seed cultivated, blossoming thoughts, ideas and dreams inside of strong spirit that refuses to surrender power to the night...Poetikkally, she is..." Queen, Mother, Earth and Moon amalgamatively..." ...and Personally, she be a truth seeker, a scribe, a baby on this spiritual journey, an aspiring half of a future essential foundation and at very least, the personification of PEACE.
WILDOUT--- a hungry pupil, rhyming to breathe, climbing to see, but picky on how i get there.. i am a scribe, in an industry that is at war constantly becuz it revolves around kings i write to breathe, and breathe to write, so i may exist and teach my daughter isis everything life has given to me...1ne (what is this a personal ad...shittt...peace okfam)
"RISE" by AnitaJ & WILDOUT
as the.. sun rays dance down to the soil which my soles touch the warmth in my soul blush on a foreign land where i concieved my conception of what it means to be a part of humanity where i recieved the directions given but not followed this land does not belong to me, it is rich and not hollow as long as it can still breathe some see, the conclusion was to keep it diseased dry the flowers on an upside down canvas achieve superiority over torn flesh power over a dead world, which leaves you where you began with power over yourself, what is it that you dont see? stop allowing them to force feed you all this greed like a bad meal you tryin to eat to impress "good company" when insititutions form, do we forget our independant respect? if you can't trust what i'm saying then.. some take my kindness as weakness, some hord the pig feed while i survive on scraps of sweetness there's no point to be found struggling against yourself nations are only formed by allowing independant self-clarification fuck public examinations, stand lookin into a mirror wonderring what their goin to be sayin dont you realize it's you that you need to be facing??
contemplation of a crumbling corrupt nation dilapadation of the temples of our exteriors a shoulder that seems inferior too weak to carry all the boulders that life keeps adding onto our loads travellin' down roads some of which have left us reaping fruitless crops so we stop consider where we're headed take a look around 360 degree angles embedded in the cerebral map we glance at whenever we become lost how easy that is when judgements are cast and we can't see the real cost of what it's doing to one another lashin' verbal attacks on each other but your reflections the same as mine, closer than a sister or brother more like that divine spiritual essence can't front like i don't recognize that presence in every living being but it's our eyes that lead us to mistrust what we be seeing so who you fighting against really? when it boils down to the ground the acid you spittin' becomes your own mourning sounds that you hear in your darkness, your own cries through the night stop hurtin' yourself by hurtin' others end the cycle and find your path to the Light...
life is a dream i wake up concieved in sweatting my ass off trying to pass off the tragedies that i claim are not indirectly effecting my trains of thought why do i lie? i dont even go to church any more but i sit under the trees and cry.. speaking tongues that have traces of where my real heart resides where walls are victim to defamation and words are victim to fall dead, if they dont attack everyone who enters their premises still i stand a pacifist in action against the nemesis damn
transformations left me with a new perception my body became the temple that i worshipped inside =ing my ressurection i began to keep 24/7 in my heart the place where my Creator could reside and hell i still cry cuz life is still amass with burdens and though i'm still strugglin' still moving through obstacles still facing adversities, fears and the worst of my own insecurities I'm still alive with the breath and strength to keep fighting through Cuz this world is a battlefield but we're armed with experiences laced with lesson-filled jewels that'll bring us wisdom and truth to help us on our pathway can't give up no matter how rough be the terrain keep elevating keep maintaining keep breathing life energy cuz it's our choices that'll determine when our hour glass's sands will cease RISE
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7715, don't sleep folks.. Posted by paperdollpoet, Wed Jul-24-02 05:13 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
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7716, this space reserved for Posted by DanjaRuss, Wed Jul-24-02 05:40 AM
my yet to be written best piece..
entitled : "Heaven's Panties"
~respect~
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7717, up Posted by backbone_flute, Thu Jul-25-02 11:07 AM
peace, ~p~
AIM: seraph219 okaypoet219 "on this occasion i shall play the flute. play on my own backbone." (c) v.v.m.
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7718, An enigma with a stigma attached Posted by shadrach, Thu Jul-25-02 12:11 PM
Hello, my name is Shadrach Kabango. I'm a 20 year old student/emcee/writer/a lot of things... I love to write and hope to one day become the better part of myself... best luck to all and in everything... Peace...
Our colors range from danger signs to shades of benign grace from undefined space to the shade of the divine's face
people and time shapes the place the color line breaks the meanings we assign and the way we define race
like what's black?
are we 40 swiggers with gats? and gats with triggers? these triggers just triggers bigger stats facts and figures
perhaps, blacks are niggers or just the future forcasted cuz fact is, many figure that those tracks that they're diggin are black
but is black just a singer with a river of charisma on wax? or is black bigger than that picture of black cats
perhaps black's an enigma with a stigma attached and that's wack
but that's fact track that through history and back, it's a black mystery
was it is to be consistently black-listed from Tom's-to-the black-fisted black is at the bottom of ever social sta-tistic
or lost in a black-hole with black souls trapped in the black-mold: fast-talking, talented black-gold
our perception of a dark complexion's marred with question- marks and lessons if we start reflection on this smart deception
we can tear apart connections of black to evil, black to people that lack cerebral abilities and are slack and feeble
black is equal black is peaceful black and white aren't distant if u know that every black or white individual's different
still this system seems plagued by these distorted black facts and so black's, still an enigma with a stigma attached and that's wack
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7719, wow! Posted by Aeon, Thu Jul-25-02 12:45 PM
that was excellent, man.
do you perform that?
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7720, RE: wow! Posted by shadrach, Thu Jul-25-02 01:44 PM
not yet... not a lot of places where i could around where i stay!!! Thanks for the props, though... i'm starting to take writing more serious, so i really appreciate any feedback... peace...
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7721, sweet beezus! Posted by backbone_flute, Thu Jul-25-02 02:59 PM
nice introduction to the boards... i'll be lookin for more outta you.
peace, ~p~
AIM: seraph219 okaypoet219 "on this occasion i shall play the flute. play on my own backbone." (c) v.v.m.
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7722, RE: sweet beezus! Posted by shadrach, Thu Jul-25-02 04:17 PM
thanks... and please check up on my posts anytime... peace bro...
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7723, lol Posted by UncleClimax, Fri Jul-26-02 04:15 AM
that was my reaction...holy shit! lol...that was dope as i dontknowwhat...thank u for that joint.
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7724, my drop... Posted by tygris, Thu Jul-25-02 04:21 PM
great idea. there are a lot of drop dead amazing poets in these parts. so here goes.
i don't know if it's my best, but it's my favourite. **************************************************************** I TRIED
I saw the silver flicker As it tore apart your flesh Deep rich Mahogany strength I bled As you breathed your last breath You cried As I died in your arms In my mind Your soul seeped through that hole in you skin And I tried I tried to push it back in But I just wasn’t strong enough Wasn’t fast enough To stop time And that metallic ball of hate From entering you Puncturing the part of you That loved me I tried to gather your love But it was too thick Too heavy for my hands to grasp I’d been to stop it’s flow forever But the more we grew together The more your heart stretched Until not even faith Could keep fate From busting through the door He’d been knocking for awhile now But I know you tried to ignore His sounds and stares And mine too But how long did you think You could dance around his bullets When he shot me during our 2nd tango lesson How thick was the shield That covered your eyes and ears ---Excepting my white lies Instead of the black truth--- Certainly not thick enough Because that black ball of fate Blasted through your flesh Like sunlight through the water that was left From the storm I cried I cried As I hovered 6 feet above us Watching myself die in your arms I tried to return your soul But it was all around me In me I stole you As I stole kisses from another I stole us And that black ball of lust Was a ticking time bomb That blew up in my face And now I was left To clean up the hate it created And I tried But your love was everywhere
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7725, up Posted by LexM, Wed Jul-31-02 07:29 AM
.
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7726, My Go..... Posted by KnowOne, Wed Jul-31-02 07:53 AM
First of all this post was an excellent idea..... I have too many pieces to choose a best, besides IMHO most of them suck! *lol* ... so I ust picked one that I REALLY felt in my heart when I wrote it..... certainly not my best, but it meant a lot to me at the time....
Domestic Silence
She has died this night……..the date is not important Just know they’ve been together for about a year She was not the first one killed By this murderer holding no guilt But tonight his burning anger shall extinguish her flame And in his possession, her soul shall wilt Voiceless words of rage spoken by his cold eyes Re-tearing a lifetime of healed lacerations in her self-esteem Still this mockery never felt so welcome Sarcastic love is better than none at all Take it as you will, but it’s the only love she’s ever known And so instead of taking a stand, she allows it to progress She’s sure he’s a good man that loves her, he’s just under too much stress Others will try to convince her to run away & just leave him be But they don’t truly understand, they can’t see all his good qualities Their not in her tunnel of vision, & thus can’t see the light Just because his actions make him wrong, doesn’t make me right If you were as close as I am, you’d see past his temper to the real man The one that’s loving, caring, & has a gentle hand (But she has yet to notice that the hand is now a fist……) She thinks, “I don’t mind that he doesn’t give me flowers” with a silent sigh But this changes suddenly as his first blow causes a black rose to bloom around her eye Gritting her teeth she bears it, cause this is her best friend And this pain over time she’ll actually learn to take pleasure in So after this fateful night she will never be the same This one accepted act of violence would leave her forever changed And though he won’t kill till many years later With one too many blows to the head tonight both he & she will fail to recognize the fact That actually, she’s already dead………. -KnowOne
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7727, RE: My Go..... Posted by KnowOne, Mon Aug-26-02 08:54 AM
KnowOne aka William Crabbe. 24 yr old M from Philly. Much love to all the OKay-Fam...... KnowOne@excite.com
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7728, Madawaka's things Posted by madawaka, Wed Jul-31-02 08:07 AM
My Name is Dehejia Maat Waterlily Poetry is the air I breath. I'm a Poetic, Kamitic, Deep Rooted, Original Earth Woman representing DC.I also am a co-host for the Cyphers Corner (www.thecypherscorner.com), a show for by and about poetry. I have been a featured artist for Groove Gumbo, WHUR (fm 96.3), WPFW (fm 89.3,), WOL (am 1500). My poetry constantly graces “The Flow”, a neo soul station on XM radio. I have traveled from VA to Canada doing my poetic thing. Opening sets for Gill Scott Heron, Fertile Ground, Julie Dexter, Jazzfatnastys, Shirley Horn, Marshall Keys and Winnie Mandela. I am a Poetess, Teacher, Singer, Dancer, Play-write, Artist, and Lover of all things natural. I am known in different places as Dehejia, Soul Sista #1, Madawaka, and Keeper of the Forest.
Shouts out to my ansestors, my King Rush, my brother Jamal, and my best friend Kiona, www.illpoets.com, poetology.com, 4luvofpoetry.com, okayplayer.com, the whole U st crew, Derrick Witfield, Komplex, the whole B-more crew, Raheem and Ellington for being an inspiration, my favorite singers/poets Sade, Stevie Wonder, Alice Walker, Eloise Greenfield, Langston Huges, Nina Simone, Billy Holiday, Bill Withers and Zap Mama. And to my friend Gill Scott Heron, be strong and balanced brotha, you will be out soon. Title: My lost soldiers
Sometimes I walk down these streets blindly Daydreaming bout Marcus, Malcolm, Bobby, Huey, Martin And Toussaint Soldiers Soldiers I want so much more than what I see Hanging round the block Slinging poisonous rocks To the deranged Lost Tossed to the toxic Wind my brothers are Seeing so much evil in eyes Causing me to disguise My reality with dreams Seems like their ain’t no soldiers left Soldiers Soldiers All I hear is talk Walking instead of marching Starching their white shirts Going to their corporate jobs Bogged down with the Weight of the world on there Shoulders On shoulders Where are all my soldiers? Boulders of nonsense in your Briefcase You chasing pipe dreams Seems like to me you ain’t Climbing the ladder Rather they climbing up over you Brotha brotha I’m dreaming I’m dreaming That you would wake up, wake up And become the soldier you were meant be See if you can save our world Soldier See if you can cause some freedom to unfurl Soldier Emitting revolution from your head to your tightly laced up boots Soldier soldier soldier Shooting down all the white houses Tearing the roof off….. Then I come back I realize you still wack Ain't packing nothing And I go back to Martin, Marcus, Malcolm, Bobby, Huey, And Toussaint Love fills my soul but I still wonder where have all the soldiers gone And when are they coming back?
(c)Dehejia Maat Waterlily
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7729, Not really my best, Posted by semlohspeaks, Thu Aug-01-02 03:13 PM
but my first and favourite.... My name is Tracy aka Semloh to most. Early twenties female from the state of Mississippi. Not much to tell, but hey, I hope you like it... -------------------------------- SouleMate
Soule…mate I wantoo be part of your soule…mate walking up the way to a star-filled soule-ar that is your soule…mate Asin checkmate Asin chess Asin the strategical movement of your gentleman-like freakiness across my board of life U know I wanchu…to give me injections of sublime erections that make me dance… As my ancestors of Africa on their native land It ain't eezee beein cheezee but getting rid of the sensation that is the essence of U… is like Saturn trying to get rid of that damn belt that wraps around its heavenly body- that envelops its soule…mate A friend once preached that we all need to get some religion à my beeattitudes Blessed are those who rejoice in love Blessed are those who unite in poetry Blessed are audio-inept, for they shall gain knowledge through spoken word… I am love I will be your poetry… Bless me with you spoken wisdom… Make love 2 me like you do your words Unify us in mind body & soule…mate I wan2 B near your…B-N…2 B a part of… I wan2 B Ntertwined with… one with… I wantoo B your soule Hell… you may not know it but U R my soule…mate
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7730, Oh yeah, Shoutouts to Posted by semlohspeaks, Fri Aug-02-02 07:39 AM
The DPP Fam, Sosha/Poetic Flux (Traci),and Tre. You all were instrumental in making me who I am and how I view things today. I love you all...also can't forget my other peeps: Stacey, Toya, Sherlynda, Sophia, Cassandra--you all are my girls forever. Mal--you are more important than you will ever understand....
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7731, The Endless Melody Of Love by Ergobliss & Anita J. Posted by AnitaJ, Fri Aug-02-02 06:41 AM
It may be too late to post this but it's worth a shot...
(Ergobliss) forget reality we'll meet up in the middle of my fantasy and listen to time while he drops his hat on the street corner.. just so he can make some money and live a bit better off singing love melodies.. and if i could just pack up and fly away.. give up and live by the words of another day i wouldnt even if i could cuz i'd rather be here with you then misunderstood and i've turned my life around for good i've changed..
(Anita J) ...changed my cycle of reality, see i used to be what others wanted me to be but life is so much different now I sing a song that beats the bloodline of my own Ancient Lineage From my Past lives ago Into this present time frame And I now real eyes that Today, this very moment The breath that we breathe is so much more important Than the bitter tasting salts that society's boxes Forces us to be placed in I'm choosing to mesh my soul's purpose with your Spirit's intent and we can bend the universe's outer limits Backwards into a space where no one's ever been Tell fantasy his dream's about to soar off into another galaxy As he and i embark upon the intangibleness of touch
(Ergobliss) to stand with a rush of passion that cripples and washes away the dust from past relationships and i see now that i have found my true happiness as time continues and falls limp wonders where its meaning has went to as lights fade and dim under a slipped clutch to grasp our hearts and ties them together around our index fingers so we'll always remember eachother.. as we lay in this bed to the early mornings break with morning dew to plaster its worth all over my window pains and blur the suns rays that creeps along the floor and lay sound his face..
(Anita J) as I taste the sweetest juices that come trickling off his skin the nectar of two heated bodies intertwining we chart our connections through celestial births stargazing at our reflections in the blackness of the pools in our spirit's skies
(Ergobliss) and when we rest we watch the world take its own course of action outside my windows as you lay your head on my chest and we talk in our native tongues and you reveal your stress and i realize with this love i give its like a new breath and if i ever stop i would find myself dead or even worse.. fuckin with regret and living in a world that has never bled
so i close my eyes with the soothing sound of your breath and words like a lullaby to my ears and sometimes i wonder wut i would do if i lost you with the fumes you release i wonder if my heart would cease
(Anita J) ...freeze, minus a beat, halt for a minute or two maybe more, all i know is what i feel and that is that your love is like the epitome of Joy inside my Peace You bring security to my foundation Where once my earth used to quake
I used to stand atop a mountain and scream your name Into the deep valleys of my hollow self Wondering how long i'd have to be patient before you'd appear Bringing me back the echoes I had never heard before Yet no one else can overstand Or see why you're so important to me...
(Ergobliss) ...they say your not worth it.. but wut do they know.. worth is only in the eye of the beholder.. and as i get older.. i learn that in order to be loved.. you must give it.. not wrap it.. hide it.. and conceal it.. damn i couldnt live without this vanilla sky
(Anita J) I couldn't live without this melodious blend of ingredients that we've created Love is the single most important factor in my life The sustenance that keeps me living, growing, moving And I am truly in awe Inspired every time, You enter my presence For you are my reflection manifested in another physical temple For you are forever part of my life...
|
7732, *frowns* Posted by OrangeLoni, Fri Aug-02-02 08:59 AM
great. *kicks herself* i dont have a good one, what kind do you want? romantic, bitter, haunting, etc? or is this one big ol throw it in and see which side it lands up?
|
7733, doesn't matter at all Posted by paperdollpoet, Fri Aug-02-02 10:01 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7734, i want u to read something Posted by morpheme, Fri Aug-02-02 06:18 PM
†come to the park & play with us†
www.uppitynegress.gov
|
7735, Aug 28th LAST DAY. Posted by paperdollpoet, Mon Aug-05-02 04:22 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7736, RE: post your best piece here! Posted by LoVeCHRIST, Mon Aug-05-02 07:47 AM
eversprings exciting the moment lying dovelike across the cloud beauty possessor loud vouching companionship hand-in-hand our existing pricking away at old selves queen sheeba queen sheeba queen rousing vinca roots a mothergun shoot for those stars back bonin' it like d. hold on love lurking the underworld sheba:thunder girl
run my tounge life for us sake
a shaded fantasy now i know why i don't trust fate
ilovemei
peaces of blesseds ca ca -ressin my breastplate of kingdom peace of blessed ca -ressin my breastplate of kingdom peaces
|
7737, don't say i didn't warn you... Posted by paperdollpoet, Thu Aug-08-02 11:31 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7738, aug 28th! Posted by paperdollpoet, Fri Aug-09-02 02:31 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7739, get your shit together!! Posted by paperdollpoet, Mon Aug-12-02 07:08 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7740, ugly ass mongrels Posted by Enoch, Mon Aug-12-02 10:51 AM
Title: Ugly ass mongrels By: Enoch ( James Daniels Jr) E-email: gliphic@yahoo.com
And ya can't be a Queen with out a King for long / at lest back then you couldn't /So time passed / which it must / and things happened / which they did / The world turned on its axis pushed by the pivotal question of WHY / And she went out lookin for a man / Till she meet a man / A man? / AMEN ! / a man / One of those red boned, gray haired type of Negroes / They lived happily for sometime / next to the Big water in the east
RIGHT ON SISTA / RIGHT ON BROTHA /
And they had a girl Ayodele / Ayodele ? what in the hell kind of name is that ? / what's it means?/
it's African don't be ignorant / and it means "She who brings joy" / when she came outside, the sun would turn the temperature down some so that she wouldn't sweat / YA don't say/ I do / The only problem was in this little happy home next to the Big water in the east was that Ayodele was lonely/ And during the day she would stand and look out at the Big water/ consequently the girl started to sing/ Thinkin about when she was young and life in general /But she didn't just sing she sang /I'm talkin bout a song that brought the clouds out the sky and the moon inta the reach of a baby's pinky finger so that they could get a better listen / And men would come from far and near to hear her song fall from her lips and slip through the gaps of their fingers and hope the song lingered in between their ears till the next day/ It just so happened that it was time for this girl to marry / she wasn't bout to stay with mamma and daddy forever/ right on right on/ so you would think all this attention would be good/ nope/ ever last one of these brothas was as ugly as hell/ look like somebody beat them with a bat at birth gorilla babbon ugly / FUGULY as hell ugly
and you seen the children of a good lookin woman and an ugly ass man.
Babies be lookin like ……fucking mongrels/ Say what/
mongrels
ugly ass mongrels
ugly ugly ass mongrels
..........
|
7741, Needing You Posted by limbic_system, Tue Aug-13-02 02:37 AM
Needing you I lay tortured by moments in coal stations silhouettes cut like paper shapes against my private streets not knowing if I missed you I dared not leave the spot of your heralded arrival Mecca of my dust wrought pilgrimage into the dark wool of your tresses where Zeus left memoirs of glory and want of body on cold shores the conversations the accusations and the laughter of dementia resound here voices are timeless and words hang lives gather like cobwebs to be torn through and discarded you my man are well guarded by fortune and providence feline Chance lays in your lap to be loved and abused by you like any beggar I will pay for promises and give myself each day for a shot at night to help me die these are not words or weary realizations they are the broken stumble of the apocalyptic gait I take now tumbling down avenues down the Boulevard of Saints they are the lament of silence lament for the gifts you bring solitude and a strike at beauty one candle and one match in the ship's hold so I may look upon your body as I would gold images in the constant museum of the unattainable we all drink this eternal brew and become manifest in it as unbound open fugue our eye is the one eye that sees all except itself in you is the mirror needing you like sleep I found the slab of your doorway your windows dark and nothing but the sorrow of immobility outside and nothing but the solace of no need to be mobile within
==============================
"I've been looking for some kind of an emotional investment with romantic dividends" - T.Waits
"I can't give you my heart, but I'll leave everything else here to die in you arms, in your morning, like dreams."- (L_S)
|
7742, don't make me choke some of ya'll! Posted by paperdollpoet, Wed Aug-14-02 09:35 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7743, RE: don't make me choke some of ya'll! Posted by LoVeCHRIST, Wed Aug-14-02 09:45 AM
um can you explain this post to me why you post the three lines and what connection,if any, does the stuff about the girls mean
i'm not dumb, just curious
peace and blessings mei
|
7744, okplaya Posted by WILDOUT, Wed Aug-14-02 11:56 AM
thats her sig paperdoll poet is the okhead in charge of this anthology page right here.. so tha post just says what the subject says then there are 3 lines to seperate the post and her sig and then she gives her message bout the girls which if u ask me.. is important as fuck..might add it as my sig too
anyways.
hope that answers it all.
--- "blue blaze official page" http://okayplayer.com
|
7745, why don't ya get Posted by DanjaRuss, Wed Aug-14-02 01:18 PM
one ah dem moderator dudes to "anchor" this post..if it is possible t this point.
oh..and I'll post my piece tomorrow.
-respect-
|
7746, they saw the post..if they wanted to do..they would hav Posted by paperdollpoet, Thu Aug-15-02 12:55 AM
but thats okay *in scareface voice*
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7747, up for the sleepies Posted by paperdollpoet, Thu Aug-15-02 11:35 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7748, you think i ain't gonna up this thing to death!! Posted by paperdollpoet, Fri Aug-16-02 01:46 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7749, here's my entries. Posted by ThaAnthology, Fri Aug-16-02 01:51 AM
Making Love Poem
Now, I could lay your body down Unclothed Silken with oiled perspiration Resting on mink blankets
I could sing rain poems While everyone’s favorite Nag Champa Coats bedroom air Like sheets we’re about to ruin
I could make language Turn tongues Mixing cussing with religion Pulling Halleluiahs From nectar’ed core Of Georgia peaches
I could tell you My essence was brimstone Striking the womb Causing my earth To give birth To fire
I could… But ah, what that got to do with love? When loyalty is a cat Coming home After pussy footing ‘Cause the sex was good
When young sis licks dicks On first dates Baiting Jiggas To bust Crystal nuts On chicken foreheads Or four chicken heads High and contorted in closets Manage trios be their innocence Forever lost in locker room short stories
Nah shawtie… I ain’t the one for making love- Physical
If I’m gonna make love, I’m gonna make love Real I’m gonna make it Spiritual Like monks on Himalayan Peaks Sipping spring water After praising the Sun Moon and Stars I’m gonna make it last… Not like Keith Sweat ballads Or snores and cheese omelets breakfasts But last like making love jump brooms As if I were Kunta and she, Maggie Giving birth to Kizzies So the future could have my eyes
All I know is, right now All folks do is make love Fashionable Scantily clad rappers, dancers, singers and actors On channel…yep that’s it, All of them And since when you gotta be naked To sell or drink beer Or brush teeth Going from decent To desen-sitized I remember covering my eyes When titties popped out of movie screens But now we got thirty year old men “feeling on the boo-hoo-tie” of our children raping the beauty from their spines and snatching age away like a stolen kiss
Nah boo Fah don’t make love Entertaining I don’t lick clits Cause it ain’t a body part to me To me, that’s home Where it all started, And that’s where I rest at I don’t do doggie style Cause I ain’t a Pit And she ain’t a bitch But I will caress black moons Cascading waves through Vertebrae electricity Understand, What I do for she Goes beyond words Beyond sound And quite frankly, It’s none of ya’ll business ‘Cause Fah don’t make love Public access Telling all my friends The blow by blow (pun intended) Ya’ll don’t need to know If she screamed cried Sighed or laughed (cause a brother had one of those days…) Ya’ll don’t need to know If she’s freaky, meek, Loud or good ‘Cause love has no Adjective, noun or verb greater So in what words or stories will You find a comparison?
See folks, Somewhere along the way Love got exposed to the Sun Like Magwi Turning sex into a gremlin With suspense repercussions
But to me It’s more It’s without connotations No preconceived notions See, me and she… Made love Out of conversation I loved her thoughts before I thought of loving her body
And probably, This planet would rock In tastier grooves If we took ours Into arms and made love Last… © Fahim Malik Nassar 26 April 2002
|
7750, and Posted by ThaAnthology, Fri Aug-16-02 01:52 AM
Sketch Artist
Excuse me mista Can I have a tissue For my face? Ma’ nose is runnin… Thank you…
Can I have some crayons and paper I wanna draw I wanna draw my momma My momma pretty She always been pretty
Why the white lady over there say She don’t like my momma Momma ain’t do nothin to her My momma got dreams She a princess And she always wanted a horse She keep talkin’ bout it To Rico, Ms Purty and Daddy All the time She want a horse So when I get big Imma buy her That horse, Cause she keep settling for The one she see In that burnt bent spoon An’ I don’t never see no horses In there, but she do I think Cause she always get quiet when she burn the spoon And she always be nodding Like she riding the horse Right then And he rockin’ her to sleep
My daddy don’t like dreamin tho Cause he always come home and wake momma up He just a big strong man And he be tryin to make us tough So he hit me and her But she stronger than me Cause she take it better She just go and find her Horse and lets him rock Her to sleep again And she fine, It’s me that’s weak But I’m learnin Cause daddy loves me I know cause He buys me crayons And I color My favorite drawing Is when I draw White lines on my paper Cause I see My Daddy and Rico draw them on the table An I’mma Be like them when I’m big So I draw Like them
Why do you look at me like that mista Like somethin wrong witcha eyes Like you’re sad Are you sad mista?
What color crayons you got? I wanna draw some more
I wanna draw my big strong daddy Cause I miss him
Where’d he go? Well I was walkin home from school once And I saw my big black daddy Resting on the street leaning Against a big green dumpster I said hi and ran up to him To hug him But he was sleep
Do you have any red crayons I wanna draw the red hole He had in his pretty blue shirt momma bought him For Christmas It was round and red flowed from it Like it was fresh ketchup And wine that momma be drinkin sometimes When she wakes up from her dreams I wondered why daddy was leakin But he was sleep So he didn’t tell me How to do that magic trick Then some white people came and put me in a car They drove me to my Aunt Karen’s house And said daddy wasn’t comin home no more And momma went to the hospital Cause she was sick
I liked Aunt Karen’s house because She was nice to me She taught me things Like how to make men happy She used to make men happy a lot And I learned quick So quick that some of her friends used to come see me They’d buy me toys and Give me money And I liked that
But then Auntie got sick Do you have any purple? I wanna color the colors she had on her Face and legs She didn’t want me to see her change colors but the make up she wore didn’t hide them
I thought it was cool How she could do magic too But she didn’t do it long
Do you have any black, Or grey Cause I wanna color the smoke That showed me How to do my daddy’s Magic trick To myself Cause I made Rico mad at me Cause he wanted me To do what Aunt Karen taught me And he was drawing white on the table And I spilled it When I went Down there And I was scared that I messed up his picture And accidentally Clicked my teeth And he hit me He hit me so hard my eyes Closed And I fell
He showed me Daddy’s trick Because he had it All in his lap And pointed thunder at me Then I had it all over me
Can I have that white back I wanna draw you And the clouds
You know what? I wanna draw Eleven But I don’t know how? Can you show me I never saw eleven But it must be nice too
I just wanna color Cause I like to draw
© Fahim Malik Nassar 19 Dec 2001
|
7751, RE: and Posted by shadrach, Sun Aug-18-02 12:45 PM
in all honesty... that was the most powerful thing i've read in a long, long time, man ... wow...
|
7752, finally... Posted by DanjaRuss, Fri Aug-16-02 02:46 AM
bio: 27 years old, been writing since the 5th grade..never took it serious until high school|| born, bred and based in the Caibbean island of St.Kitts (Sugar City Baby!!)...graphic artist/web designer/sketch artist/poet/writer..psychologist for me.
hail ups: Babs, Momma, Leyoca, Lau, Al
Poem dedication: Babs, Momma, Leyoca
title: { you made me write this } isn't it mortally ironic that it is your eternal silence that screams the loudest in my choir mass of jumbled thoughts ?
while the preacher in slow mo fiddled through scriptures and sermons i feverishly out ran his every word to your finish line
trying to save you from an afterlife that held promises and dreams hostage
surely limbo had better accommodations than heaven or hell
nightmares of good byes slipping out the back door before hello had awoken and night whispers to day to come quickly
light shedding skin bearing the day's misery
eternal scars hidden beneath a make shift tapestry of smiles and cold silence
designated online "flasher"
surfers stuck to boards gazing at my nudity
if only for a minute
so that my pain is cradled between bewildered eyes and shared in sighs.. of emotion
as attention spans the screen.
by R.Alastair Browne
|
7753, "The Truth" by Exodus Posted by Afrika, Sun Aug-18-02 02:54 PM
Her womb quivered and spasmed pain erupted through her body her fingers clutched the bedsheets, and their tendons tightened beyond her control Her mind raced one way and another Finally, as if she'd made a decision, her fingers raised followed by her arms, and then her torso those same fingers found themselves punching furiously at the keys of a typewriter Another labor pain flowed through her and still she smiled, knowing what she was contributing was just The report of the keys echoed through the air, distinct like bullets, striking the page blam blam blam, the machine was her release Her man whispered words of encouragement sweat beads fell down her forehead She noticed that the night had come and beyond their window they could hear the encouraging shouts of the rebels and their bodies falling to the ground dead before contact, they returned to the dust of their making She realizes that her feet have fallen asleep Finally the last bullet letter is added, and she is satisfied Her husband wretches the newborn from it's safe haven nestled between the bars of the typewriter she smiles tiredly Her greatest work is born He calls it "The Truth"
16 wishin' I was 25. Hope to attend Howard University and pursue a career in Journalism. Takes classes on Philosophy and debate at CASA (Center for the Advanced Studies and the Arts.) Attends Oak Park High School in Oak Park, MI.
Exodus thanks: The Lord God, TheProdigiousPoet, Mommy, my whole entire family, Antonio Baker, Deeanna, Marcus, Brian, Cassie, Kurtis, Voncaira, Erin, Jessica, everybody at Upward Bound, and Oak Park High. Especially 2004.
|
7754, up.. Posted by paperdollpoet, Mon Aug-19-02 11:25 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7755, opportunity knockinig Posted by paperdollpoet, Tue Aug-20-02 04:12 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7756, only a couple more days before you are assed out.. Posted by paperdollpoet, Thu Aug-22-02 07:01 AM
and when the 28th has come and gone..don't inbox me with lame excuses..
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7757, here's mine Posted by mamazgun, Thu Aug-22-02 08:22 AM
NAME: Angie K. BIO: Hailing from Norcross, GA by way of three continents, I began writing poetry the summer of 10th grade in a bid for my sanity. I stopped writing for a number of years until this June when something clicked and I just couldn't stop writing. I also gave my first public reading in an attempt to combat acute stage fright. I am currently working on collecting the oral histories of my people to someday turn into a children's historical novel. THANKYOUS angie K: all the poets who have inspired and continue to inspire . . . and my mother.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------- THE WRITING PROCESS (in extended metaphor)
paper and i . . we're like two people accidentally catching each other . . . naked for the first time (cause someone forgot to lock the bathroom door). uncomfortable with looking at our nakedness, but curiously transfixed, we're unwilling to fall too deep into pools of gazes, into twinkles of eyes.
but when the awkwardness passes long sighs of contentment- deep breaths of each other's scent intoxicate, inebriate. timidly stretching to touch skin fingers feel on themselves a natural familiarity, awed by skin's vulnerable beauty, it's venerable purpose. sensations of tracing unique prints over cross-hatched epidermis, this, the irrefutable power of touch, the arresting sight of meaning embedded within words.
tongue-kissing in furious bursts with the finest crafted thoughts, hand painting magic with the wand of a pen- strokes of precision and happy little accidents, teasing master peaces or just sweet piece(s).
on flat-pressed bleached-bark, fondling ideas to neurotic phases and fellatio or cunnilingus of simple genius; masturbating wisdom till it cums to the people cause knowledge alone is just an impressive trophy fcuk, but wisdom . . . she is that frontier that many work lifetimes to reach but never ever come close to . . . climax.
|
7758, collaboration w/ muse Posted by guerilla_love, Thu Aug-22-02 08:32 AM
Homage to the word:
grrrrrrrl u weave me thru yrself seamlessly u breath me thru yr space timelessly when im in yr voice i seem to flow mindlessly
and so i rhyme spit shout WORD til vowels empower me to rise up from my ashes in flames of a phoenix u deify me
purify me baptise me in stillest waters quench mental fires forge verbal paths
don't u know's it's like lava flow hot and unstoppable u burn me cold flowin chillin
grrrrrrrrl when u fell outta the dictionary u made sounds that spoke to me
verbose u left me comitose as u kissed more territory on my ear-th than the pope u see
grrrrrrrl u be reason for radio the seasoning to audio and when music loses purposes grrrl yr ass can play solo cuz yr ways yr thighs yr moves yr grooves are
Hhhhip like THAT and THIS piece couldn't do justice to the solstice of your syllables the resonance of yr sounds the palpatations of yr perculatin pronunciatin pounds
m mmm.
grrrrrl when i glided my optics pressin fingers 'pon nipples 'gainst atlas ...u moaned for me i spread out yr consonants so that yr vowels could crone for me n whisper sweet tender vibrations to the dome baby
grrrrrrrrl u make me wanna take my pen and ride u on bonded paper spill my ink in yr container and let the sharpness of my point rrrrrip (baby grip) thru the layers...
grrrrrrrrrl u be patterns to pages makin spaces for meditations carving white spaces with black decorations providing inspirations through repetitions and combinations
grrrrrrrl u be bridges between people sidewalks to freeways a playground for metaphors building blocks for similes subtitles and sidetalk
u be the air that talking breathes u be the food that thinking eats
the paper be wearin ur jewels ringin fingers with o's and crownin heads with u's u be the shapes that intentions hide in the light that makes the letters speak u be be the inspiration that poets seek and the lovers that writers keep
and every time pen and paper touch they create new life u be the beginning the genesis the generator placin the world on yr accelerator u be the speed that makes understanding high u be pandora to misunderstandings when invisible or unspoken u be the real crack that marion barry is tokin and when CENSORSHIP is chokin yr voice i sing redemption songs through AAAAAHHs and OOOOUUUMMMs & rebel chants of Ogun, do tonguedances of Isis to drumbeats of oshun that liberate verses once deemed as curses til this ritual becomes a religion cuz grrrrrrrrl u are THAT contagious
our ears are souls seekin salvation crowin w/ crucified tongues bleeding tears cryin "come save us"
WORD u ARE that JESUS ISIS YEMAYAH sojourner garvey & MANDELA or Harlem's Shining Star MALCOLM u are miles coltraine monk and taylor dayne diana ross and kurt cobain u r the fire that rages through pages of papyrus and dead sea scrolls
grrrrrrrrrrrl in yr name souls were bought and sold but by yr spirit they were freed
in yr name fires were set and books were hidden from seeds
in the shadow of yr power some people fear yr transgressin dismiss true expression as trash and pray for empty blessins
but ur language runs free unlimited by dictionaries and bright with possibilities u spill skies into galaxies and blur borders with heaven u motivate hatred and love ur freedom makes the world leaven
and i can shout combinations of u in yr homage but i'll never fully reflect yr capabilities
so i shout yr names on the backs of clouds and send them off at the speed of sound blanketting your power around and offering only to be yr transmitter cuz grrrrrrrl u weave me thru yrself seamlessly u breath me thru yr space timelessly when im in yr voice i seem to flow mindlessly
|
7759, my bio Posted by guerilla_love, Thu Aug-22-02 08:36 AM
I am a poet who is always hungry for inspiration and performance-highs. I used to write fun poetry, but now I'm on a covert political mission to make people second guess their givens. Beware, cuz my book may pop up an slap you in the face some day when you're off your guard or rocker, or sittin on the john or somethin.
|
7760, my bio Posted by MUSE, Fri Aug-23-02 03:40 AM
a spoken word poet, wordsmith, warrior - MUSE, born of Haitian Heritage in the city of Brooklyn loves breathes lives poetry. "My passion is life and love - I want to spread these two like an incurable virus. I'm a man who stands for the best in people to shine and won't listen to inner voices that say the least about you. I am an inspiration for those willing to hear what I see feel and experience from their greatness and their light."
His manuscript is in the works. His voice will be heard on radio in the next year. His passion for youth will manifest as a mentorship organization which is in the works both conceptually and as a reality.
"I'm here to make a difference. My voice will be heard and souls will be healed, uplifted, transcended and empowered."
You heard it here. Be easy.
One Love,
MUSE
|
7761, A mental change of self Posted by MistressofLyrics, Thu Aug-22-02 10:19 AM
A Mental Change of Self
Take a sip of Confusion let it be the reason for your disorderly conduct It can be the excuse for all the abuse you place upon yourself Absorbing the load of Bull-shit negative people release Why have you allowed yourself to become a mammal confined to the leash of brainwashing The longer you allow yourself to be bitter the less time you will have to consider the possiblity of embracing what you truly are A walking light shinning like a supanova star Don't you realize you could be the one to lift up someone else Keeping them from becomming hallow and eventually being swallowed up by the things of this world Can't you see there are others who need you help Stop sitting there feeling sorry for yourself Take control of every momment don't even worry about the time In fact, you should move so fast that Time tries to catch up to your ass Why...? Because it's time for a change A total rearrange of thinking So that when you talk you are thinking before speaking Having moments of clairity without drinking Making a positve impact with your life Not just occuping space and breathing
By, LaSandra Jefferson
|
7762, here's my drop.. Posted by Giovanni, Thu Aug-22-02 11:09 AM
Gio from Ft. Washington... Maryland's "Lost City"..
Title: Rewind
I.
i remember the summers long ago..
the smell of confection sourin' on the tongues of 11 & 12 yr. olds ---socializin' over raspberry now&laters ... lemon heads ... & cosmo pops at the ice cream truck... we were elementary school students with a week's worth of lunch/money bulgin' in the pockets of "high-water" jeans ---with elastic waist-bands...
;adolescents eager to embrace summer vacation ---two days away...
same time one of my boys, accused of runnin' his mouth too much, caught a beatdown in front of the ice cream man...
the summers seem'd longer, then...
II.
Tia Jones was the first girl i had a crush on... the girl i walk'd home from school for cool points & braggin' rights...the one i admired, secretly...
was too shy to tell her how i really felt...was too late 'cause she start'd "messin'" with some other guy...
III.
my boy, Adrian & i crash'd Ashli's birthday party and was chased outta her backyard by Tommy ... Ernest and our other tormentors
IV.
this was long ago...
before the girls we grew up with discover'd how fine they were, & didn't know us or anybody else 'round the way, no more...
when your mom callin' you home was a telegram message pass'd through your friends ---who relay'd the message to others til' it eventually reach'd you...
V.
Hope was the second girl i had a crush on... the girl i rode home on the back of my bike so she could make curfew...
she would always tease me...
---wrap her arms snug around my waist... pull her body tight upon mine with her nipples projectin' themselves through her t-shirt...nipples rubbin' up & down my back on either sides of my spinal column...
i tried to keep my erection from bein' too obvious under my nylon shorts...
knew she was very flirtatious... this was a game she play'd with everybody & i was no different from the rest...
VI.
we'd ball all summer long at the community center & ball at each other's houses on the weekends...
i was goin' through sneakers fast & since money was tight...
i had to play ball & other neighborhood sports in my church shoes til' there was enough money for me to get a new pair of sneakers...
VII.
time moved slow...moved like molasses in an hourglass...
VIII.
i miss those summers long ago...
when cook-outs were almost every weekend...
when we were children dreamin' 'cause reality was out of reach...
|
7763, can i drop a hiaku? Posted by mensa, Thu Aug-22-02 03:20 PM
Rafe spall-london uk.
I fly like a fish you swim like a bird together we wilt like a flower
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7764, up Posted by mamazgun, Tue Aug-27-02 06:13 AM
~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~ Pero no amo tus pies sino porque anduvieron sobre la tierra y sobre el viento y sobre el agua, hasta que me encontraron. -de "Tus Pies" || Pablo Neruda.
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7765, as follows . . . . Posted by KaRaS, Thu Aug-22-02 03:12 PM
- title: this is currently untitled - bio: i'm karas. i'm from west philly. i write. - name: karas lamb - shouts to those who matter most; the writers and the words.
_________________________________________________________________
inertia wears pink for u
my baby
my
babymy
baby
pink for u
pink for u
pink for uterus
pink for innocence
using us
using u
to cover itself
guilt hides in ur underwear
wearing pasteled anguish
immaculate murder scenes
pristine nightmares we dream
she dreams
to make believe that nothing's happened
there
guilt hides in her underwear
wearing rusted tears
and blood
and
punctured sails
like blue and white thursday
two sundays after
when prayers have come and gone
when monday comes and comes and comes
and
she bleeds
and
prayers have turned to laughter
laughter from the mouths of babes
wearing manic verve on severed feet
severed feet that walk in movements
composed to the verses
on their grave markers
beautiful curses
stitched into booties before mournings and sunrises meet
in sandbox
at playground
on corner
of
suicide and sesame streets
she is my kismet
she walks to me with eyes that glitter with the soul i used to wear in summer
the soul crocheted for me on my mother's mother's . . . . . . wood splintered porches and soft laps where hardened hands tell the tales of grandmothers.
she comes to me
pleading
the heart on her sleeve is bleeding
little girl
littlegirlittle
girl
i can taste what it is
u've been feeling
as i sup from the wound in my side
that isn't good at healing
littlegirlittle
girleavingliving
forthelivesofthighsandstrongerhighswhile
eyesandHERinside
madeloveto
. . . . dying
littlegirleavingliving
forthelyingloathinglacembroidered
looksofmother
who
justwon'treach
she's . . . . . . . justoppedtryingto
love
her
littlegirlookstomewith
eyes inviting.
she sits with me because her
mother's prone to walking
often
i'm new to mothering
the lives of orphans
just reading them
as work goes on and . . . . .
she says her name
recites her stories
fairies
loosies, whips, and morning . . . . .
sons
corner stores she's saved
from wars and
gone to school in
glitter rings
when all she wears is dirty jeans
and joy's a word
not something for her
"my name is caroline"
so much smaller
but her
spirit
rivals what i've left to offer
jealous of the innocence she
hasn't learned is taken.
my time is taken
trying to breathe some hope
from silly faces
that she's making
trying to save myself from wasting
pandora lives inside my bag
caroline is not afraid to call her
out to play
the incubus she holds to
tightly while in slumber
dressed in pink
and dressed in pink and
dressed in wings where
i've seen her wonders wander
she watches while i
tag my name in dark blue marker
next to me.
closer to.
"i can make three different kinds"
oh yeah?!?! let me see u . . .
caroline drew stars on my bag
i wonder if she'll still carry her
dreams around with her
now that i do
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7766, yeah..ya'll are doing good! Posted by paperdollpoet, Fri Aug-23-02 03:01 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7767, last week!! Posted by paperdollpoet, Sat Aug-24-02 01:43 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7768, get your shit together!! Posted by paperdollpoet, Sun Aug-25-02 09:33 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7769, hey, lei... Posted by morpheme, Sun Aug-25-02 10:52 AM
i am goin to submit either the one i sent u {DON'T feel bad about it, i of ALL ppl understand} or one of two others u'll get them by the 28th
†you crazy, for real doe†
www.uppitynegress.gov
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7770, Bio... Posted by ThaAnthology, Mon Aug-26-02 01:05 AM
Fahim Malik Nassar was born in Queens, New York. This 29 year old poet has loved the word all his life. He is a story-teller in the sense of old tribesmen telling truths of the past to their village. Fahim is a venue host in Washington D.C. as well as a member of the theatrical poetry troupe "Sun Cypher".
Fahim: Jazz, Joy, Nana, Enid, Paige, Demetri, Tremaine, D.C., N.Y., Okayplayer.
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7771, just under the wire: Posted by RatpackSlim, Mon Aug-26-02 03:27 AM
okay, this is "comfort poem":
this is a comfort poem. this poem is a big fluffy down pillow a cup of hot tea it is nature sounds blending into thelonious monk plunking peacefully it is specifically designed to keep yr head above water and yr feet on the ground it is chicken soup homemade with big ol’ thick-ass dumplings it is that tax refund you forgot about arriving on the day rent’s due it is not just for you but also for you alone it is the welcome mat at home that u wipe yr feet on it is yr favorite song played on the radio during bumper to bumper traffic on the 101 it is how it looks when u close yr eyes and how it feels when u breathe deep it is a prayer whispered in the tongue of yr choosing it is a perspective-shifting story that yr grandma told u it is the fusion of tough love and enough hugs to get u over. this is the word benign and all that it means it’s the snooze button granting u just nine more minutes it is the minute possibility made manifest it is now i lay me down to rest and all that it entails. it is the movie you’ve watched at least 98 times like yr reciting every line because it makes u feel better. this is a real letter from a real person that starts out “dear you” written in real cursive this is the curse word u yell out just because u need to vent this is cross ventilation in a room with no air this is yr best friend brushing yr hair this is me writing this poem because i care. this is a comfort poem. it is three little birds singing everyt’ing gon’ be alright, chile it’s a wild smile from a mischeivous toddler it’s a tall glass of o.j. with a smidgen of vodka or the smells of a holiday kitchen. it’s a loved one at the gate when u get off the plane it’s laughing so damn loud that folks think yr insane it’s the first time your first love first mentioned yr first name it’s a salve for the pain in times of duress this is written relief for times of yr stress. and yes... this is your comfort poem.
(c) Ratpack Slim/Rob Sturma 2002
----- Ratpack Slim is the superhero, Rob Sturma is the mild mannered reporter. Slim's been rocking mics on the Los Angeles poetry scene for a few years now, sharing stages with luminaries like Talaam Acey, Jerry Quickley, Sekou Tha Misfit, and too many more to mention. Peace to Mom and Dad for the gift of gab, and Okayplayer for helping nurture it. (ratpackslim@hotmail.com)
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7772, I made it! Posted by mindful, Mon Aug-26-02 04:08 AM
Submission:
Inspiration: After Midnight Thoughts and Life
Under The Apple Tree
penniless thoughts banked in mason jars on mama's pantry shelf in the kitchen give off airy ass tangibility and the fool in me rises to see what they really offer sticking my hands within their well i find nothing affordable and it's hard to tell how many of them i will collect as the years go by
mister martin files his nails on the edge of our porch and grinds his teeth while he waits for daddy to fix his '76 Pontiac and you and i count the number or gray hairs growing within his goatee with our eyes he catches us staring and "shues" us with his hands but we still stand there giddy as can be just to know we made it to 20
that tree.. the big one.... in front of our house smiles as we rustle among its leaves tomboy(ing) around with nina and them cuz Saturday morning hide and seek is always the best and to test our skills it wiggles and knocks you out before i could catch you and we stand open-mouthed at what just happened cuz u were the baby
so in the morning your body was placed there and we sung "Going Up To Meet Him" while u rested though your smile still lingered your voice wasn't around and i.... stood with my hand in mama's and wiped her tears while she cried there.. under the apple tree.
©Tremaine L. Loadholt
Bio: Tremaine L. Loadholt was born in Savannah, Ga on April 17, 1980. She is the daughter of Michael Loadholt and Angela Jones, the sister of Michael, Theodore, Maurice, and Bless. She attends Georgia Southern University where she majors in Psychology and minors in Writing. Her Loves: Her family, Fahim, Levy, Aulelei, Susan, and anything involving writing.
I'm February, April, March, and even May, I am. ©The Gift of Gab
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7773, ok biscuit here's mine Posted by 3rd i, Mon Aug-26-02 07:05 AM
3rd i- Lives in Chicago Il. Orginally from the Coastal Georgia town called Brunswick. She is empathic to the core and dreams in Mezzo Piano. 3rd i would like to thank muses James Chaney and Christoper Rosamond for being her muses.
Sacrifice
At some point I began to lose myself in the unraveling of the universe I spun myself a cocoon so that I might sleep eternally Even here I am alone You look through me hoping that I might stand revealed but I dissipate Scattered thru space I collect myself on the other side of the hereafter He wanted to kiss me Said he never loved any one as much as he loved me He was lying I welcomed his lies into my womb Gave birth to his irresponsibility And aborted my reality
At some point I recollected myself on Pluto Smoked a light year in my sleep I realized my heart was missing and I couldn’t remember where I placed it. My fingers lingered in the empty space and his name echoed off the walls
Sweet misery I know no other home Fallen and Forsaken I entered into his Negative zone and lost all sense of self Just so he could know love i faltered My misplaced heart I saw upon his Trophy mantelpiece. Already forgotten It had begun to gather dust.
Once warm brown and supple my Skin has grown dull and cold Whispered demons haunt my dreams Making my chest heavy
My temple walls are fallen Desecrated with your presence My inner sanctum littered With your essence I am no more
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7774, The Blood(Protect It) Posted by klove bklyn, Mon Aug-26-02 10:10 AM
Blue in closed skin we become this... Walking carrier of flawless body with antibodies.. Warm liquid moving through the veins to locations Invasive intrusion found in all of us.. The messenger for the bodies language... Sending a signal "Alerting" me for a check up... Need water when I hiccup.. Yawning when tired... Cough to open the lungs.. Sneeze ridding dust.. Tearing when in bliss or pure sadness... The Blood, turns red when the skin is open The Blood, need enough to survive The Blood, we all have it The Blood, Spiritual drink of the soul The Blood, when tainted an illness proclaims
Washed my skin and saw the veins So special is our bodies while in the physical Some are taken drugs to destroy the love that was dedicated to make us.. Appreciate the chance to live Cleanse the blood with non-chemical stresses Conditions the mind and bring you back become devine... So blessed we are to have enough to donate... Some needing blood having 1hour to live... After the "flatline" the soul releases The body stay's the blood remains until dried
Where there is water their is life on earth, Where there is blood their is life in us,
Bright light reflecting through my window As I lay here body feeling greatly respected Popped a vitamin and exercised circulating the blood into a happy heart... One chance to live and One time to die... Spiritual beings we are.. Remember to cleanse the soul, spirit and body.. The blood is the messenger.. So keep it clean and pure... Wash your inner as well as the outer... The Blood, warning to those risking the possiblities of un-protecting then maybe catching, Aids. If the blood becomes infected, This messenger invade's the pure, infecting the innocent... Declining live's Now he lay's in his coffin at the age of 40, three sons and a wife(widow)... Protection or abstance is all we got... "Some" not caring "just hit my spot"... Think before the feeling take's over... Climax to a coffin isn't worth while... Or becoming pregnant with an now infected child... Blood is the messenger, Check the message and keep it clean.
Dedicated to a loss friend, who cannot speak...RIP,ty
koolloveforbklyn MG
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7775, up Posted by paperdollpoet, Tue Aug-27-02 01:09 AM
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
|
7776, sentiments & sediment Posted by seraph219, Tue Aug-27-02 08:27 AM
sentiments &sediment
--winter--
walking the beach i imagined the inexhaustible sigh of the Atlantic overtaken by you, howling delirious — a lover’s harmonics yet to engage my ear.
the boardwalk slumbers: the mechanical grind and neon glyphs lost in the darkness of a late winter evening. occasionally a shudder works its way through the expanse of old wooden beams as the dormant beast dreams slushies and caramel popcorn seeping sticky into its veins.
Heaven’s inhabitants snap stolen moments, bouncing jealous glances off the sea’s surface —- the sun rises hours early averting starry eyes.
--summer--
i uncurl alone in a drunken haze underneath a pier that seems to lead a direct path into the sun wading belly deep in the ocean, provoking me with playful splashes, trying to jolt me out of this inebriated state.
i stumble towards the silly bastard to inflict a sleeper hold and crack its crown against the corals with a “fuck-you!” to follow —- i want my night back!
primed to dance wicked with the sun, i put on my best stride through the sediment, before finding your name, where once was carved and circumscribed with a heart, erased from the sands,
licked out of existence like lollipops and icicles — the erosive strokes of the surf, sweetness removed —
and all that remains is...
--blackout--
i’ve forgotten my grudge with the golden one, and postured prostrate upon his porch, the sea lapping at my nicked feet, refuse to re-salt the sea — the realization that i can’t kill the ocean with the slice of a clam shell, impale the mighty star upon a mountain, nor pin down the restless spirit of a young woman with wounds down to the marrow.
i am little, casting a meager shadow, but can engulf the world in thought... but first to swallow this pride. (c) seraph219
Bio: Seraph was born in Trenton, NJ on February 19, 1983. He attends St. Lawrence University. Seraph thanks Mom &Dad, David Cantlay, Katya, Eli, and all the Okaypoets.
peace, ~p~
"the wages of dying is love" (c) galway kinnell
"i fear to forget your name as a poet fears to forget some word sprung in the torment of the night, mighty as God himself." (c) v.v.m.
AIM: okaypoet219
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7777, RE: "STAR" & Bio Posted by Sampaguita, Tue Aug-27-02 12:40 PM
Bio: Mahal was born in Manila, Philippine Islands.She attended L.A. County High School for the Arts as a Theatre major, graduated from Howard University in 1995 with a B.A. in Film Directing/History minor, worked in Film-TV production, currently working on writing and Jazz music(piano/vocals,) plans to teach while building with her redemption, her 2 year-old Star, Mekhi. Mahal: Mekhi, Family, Kharma,Eva,Praba,Jenn, HU/DC/MD/NY/CA/OKP
----------------------------------------------------------------- STAR
Evolution's breath Entered my soul Diving into this intoxicating well Brought forth visions Of divine souls
One Made it to the light The magnetism of the waves Erupted vessels and channels Beyond my own control A dragon spirit came to be Turn of the century Long-awaited Yet came in the most inopportune moment
My mirror showed me his face From a distant place Ever so near He kissed my life
Knowing who he was Many years prior He was the voice of my songs The rhythm of my dance The energy in my fingertips We soared to the apex of pyramids And swam to the abyss of deep blue Now His voice dances in forgotten dreams His dancing is a kaleidescope of steps Laughter keeps me fulfilled
My own redemption song I'm the bridge To his understanding Of what this life means In simpler terms: Happiness and Love
I stand in the side-lines Everytime a milestone has been achieved Taking a long look Of my amethyst prince Who will reign King In a few solid years
As he emerges into existence By each passing moon My gratefulness To have been chosen Goes without words The clock ticks I welcome the new And release what I just embraced Into the night sky Into this universe
(c)Mahal 2002 Peace & One Love
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7778, RE: post your best piece here! Posted by thoughtremedy, Tue Aug-27-02 05:55 PM
bio: thoughtremedy, 20 years old. polish, and south african. i began conversatin with my pad when i turned 15. i bodybuild, play ball, philosophize, and analyze.
Dedication: My queen, Sharmin Hassaniani
"In Dreams" golden brown locks molten earth eyes
gasp!
she breathes silent fury resonate through caves of her deepest travelling with rock her wind fills the earth blood
she is observer of ancient and present times she writes fate for patrons of love with gentle exhales of her song mouth
harmonius balance passes her pores soliloqui flow her streamline tears so smooth a hummingbird study her rhythm
she walks strong will that bend my metaphor mirror strong legs moca chocolate silk her thighs i do divide each eye focused on each stride
my perception is relaxin her sway closer i feel to that base curin and curvin my hunger as she back my way
clad in ancient cloth dancin with her approach she nears her lay
tonight we put a hold on the heal i place my hand on her head and recite my way
babydoll i remember how you climbed me with your vocal chords my spinal cord embody your vibe i swear you changed my walk
i reminisce the reminiscence of your expressions incense spice scent smoke like swirls conversatin many generations of you and i in past manifestations once gardener once water i evoke sword from blade of grass you planted
i review your prism like emotion refractin and reflectin thoughts at your discretion i immerse in the colors you projectin travelin kaleidoscope experiences observin all your phases i became your satelite lunule away from absorbin all your stages
she sleeps i will join you in our one verse over beedie and platonic discussion
in dreams awake a young girl tattered clothes travels to the well for water small universe dreaming of unicorns prince warrior's innocence binds her gaze two big brown eyes seeking truth
humming to herself tales of small things she a queen her world is her own find her in the depths of her song searching for someone to call her name
Sharmin
she reach the well for her it is abyss she speaks to it
"my consciousness"
dropping the bucket she is bitter a full bucket is heavy raising the water mirror she is eager facing herself she is neither
"dare i look inside my soul and open my eyes what will i find? i have looked at you my mirror ever since i was old enough to bear your load you have shown me nothing but burden next time i will have courage to look deeper"
she told herself
momentarily she argued her mind realized she was late was quick to hurry her pace the bucket was heavy a shortcut in need she looked to the river running across the bridge she lost her footing
spilt the water and fell into unconsciousness
In Dreams (c) Copyright 2002 ~ thoughtremedy
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7779, today's..that day Posted by DanjaRuss, Wed Aug-28-02 02:41 AM
..
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7780, black water. Posted by Aeon, Wed Aug-28-02 04:05 AM
she was glass stained
etched into my mind hieroglyphically a midnight gypsy god painted her, a contortion of time to twist me swallowing my sun with the parting of her
ec -((lips))- e
to kiss me love cried her out waterfalls streaming from its i's we's us's and everything in between
and i don't think she trusts me; no matter how close i cling
she's manufactured for me diamond wings
from late night sweats when her skin sings elegies that soak the bed sheets: and i wish some one would guillotine me my thoughts drive me
insane
my thoughts aren't legal drivers but they'd like to drive her to the edge of forever and we could watch the sun rise for the last time on Lover's Peak i've got a 1980 Eagle with pleather seats it still rides like a dream if she gets into my dream maybe i could drive her out of her nightmare
-this is my offering-
a self portrait in pastels and a sketch of the moon dressed with the colors of my daily prayers; a humbled heart crafted from innocence and virgin tears a promise to paint her irises with the scent of a new day i'll hold her hands collapsing her fingers into the malleableness of my soul she could steal herself away in my rhythm and i could hold her when gravity loses it's grip
______________________ Aeon (nee Dave McDowell) is a 22year old poet/emcee/student from Philadelphia, PA. A self proclaimed "hustler of language", his ultimate dream would be to have the opportunity to record his music and have some of his work published. finding inspiration anywhere he can, he points to saul williams, nas, ralph waldo ellison, john coltrane and pete rock as huge influences.
shouts-
Aeon: whole 215 collective, okayplayer fam, good open mics worldwide and dreamseekers everywhere.
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7781, so amazin Posted by One_Man_Amazin, Wed Aug-28-02 05:39 AM
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From: "Who me?" <amazin808@hotmail.com> | This is Spam | Add to Address Book To: Laydlyke001@aol.com, loesinamazin@yahoo.com Date: Fri, 21 Jun 2002 14:54:01 +0000
Lennox 'zin Menaces minutemen ~~~~~~~~~~~the second coming of the British then fondles ya writtens like catholic bishops leavin you touchy feely like ecstasy no memory of were you been recalling your wins like Fhen-phen I drop the playas court gavel on ya crash tested focus of who the doppest and put drama in ya mid day like the soaps fuck five mics, five star these bars while you ACTing hard hoping for the Training Day Denzel Oscar true...i shine like the award with my hands ova my heart Inscription written One Man ripped that ass apart gifted spit it bare footed and brought water to farms LION born but still Aquarian ring the alarm fuck ya mic I'll snatch ya arm off so when i chant this psalm my mic is in YOUR palm so ridiculous wit it ya membranes start to twitch you try to unclench ya fist but i got your arm by the wrist playa please don't become a paraplezed mc with missing extremities try to see A M A Z my grammatical is Chinese Mathematical and get two thumbs from Siscal and Eeeb. easy........
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7782, RE: post your best piece here! Posted by jayare214, Wed Aug-28-02 08:08 AM
"fuck!!!!!!" by Randy "Jayare" Johnson I am the burning lifeless sand of ethiopian valleys cooled by frigid frozen nordic waters blended in urban american testubes where white boys fear my blackness and blacks call me white boy.... the confused mullatto cliche made into television movies where I struggle to fit in mimickin' minstrel masters to pass for or otherwise openly reject "my people".... housenigga!!!!!
or worse yet - supernigga!!!!! so "black" in my lightness that my shadow carries gats and unloads clips on the blvd.... spitting gangsta sob stories and pimpin hoes with the unbridled exuberance of uncle sam at tax time... confused and convincing all that will listen that my light skinded vision reflects the same fucked up circumstance as theres....
Or I am the not -so -secret desire of all chocolate sistas who thru years of branding and brainwashing seek the whitest whites that can still be called black and long to put ponytails in my naturally curled hair...
The brotha that is either stuck on himself or too good to return a casual flirt.... the brotha that "think he so damn fine".... the source of relentless playa hating during debarge's hey day, now deemed out of style in this era of bronze bald and black....
but all thats bullshit....
I am in fact the future. cuZ the future of the world is fuckin! when groups mix they fuck! and god bless us mixed up fucks! cuz while inbred cultuarlly stagnant whites wanna moves blacks back to africa.... blaming them for poverties painful grasp over their lives....
and militant blacks wanna guard the gene pool with the ferocity of a time travling automatic packin zulu warrior interuptin a midnight misouri masters unwanted intrusion into slave quarters....
Im on the sidelines handing out drinks and oysters... cuz everybody needs to fuck...... everybody needs to fuck everybody else as soon as possible.... cuz its only through the passionate penetration of our advasaries....
through the shared vision that comes from shared positions....
thru the inevitable mixin that comes from human curiosty and the desire for forbidden fruit
that we can return to perfection....
cuz we began perfect. as one people....
but time and space divides and soon our brothers werntt our brothers and our sisters wernt our sisters and it became a sin or crime to fuck somebody different...
to mix and match common denominators.... little did we realize the degree to which we were fractional... then facts got changed and history rewrtten and instead of fuckin we were fucked up....
but i believe in America.... the notrion that people from all over the world... fleeing for whatever reason and ending up in the same place.... to share in mysterious cuisine and manners of dress... to adopt each others words abd styles and beliefs... and yes... to fuck! America is the model for where the world should go.... and the world should return to perfection.... america as melting pot? fuck that! yeah we need some heat but not to melt anything.... we need to fuck! we need to fuck and make beautiful babies with kinky straight culry hair.... we need to fuck and blend pale sun burnt flesh with deep olive mixed with asian yellows and apache reds and of course african browns.... We need everybody to fuck everybody else as soon as fucking possible!
So I say black folks, hold on to your african heritage. the cradle of civilization. the locations of humanities origination.... hold on to your struggle and successes and failures and history and culture and language... hold on to your priide strength and courage.... your song and sense of rythm... your attitude and roundess of gluteous maximus..... your passion and conviction and fire.... fuck and make your history theirs.... your pain theirs... your struggle theirs
I say white man... get honest about what you did and didnt do... what you found and what ya stole what your orginanated and what you claimed. we live collectivley under the heritage legacy and history of a single cultural group, that has only reluctantly acknowledged its richness and flavor comes purely from its discarded abused members.... fuck! fuck to get honest fuck for relief from skin cancer.... fuck to get right about your history and everyone else.... fuck to payback centuries of Rape....(this time ONLY by concent) fuck to make up for what ya fucked up!
I am the result of fucking.... im the realization of gods commandment that we love each other.... Im the brideg between, and unbiased observer in a rediculous war of rhetoric and race! fuck to remove race.... fuck to remove space fuck to bring us closer fuck to feed the needs of pent up sexual frustration - everybody lookin across the fence (they wanna taste) but would rather hate.... fuck to remove hate.... God made 1 people. man has divided this people. only man can bring it back to perfection. fuck.
-Jayare Born and Raised in Oakland Ca. Currently living in sacramento. Works in the radio industry, with aspirations of someday professionally writing producing and publishing songs. "seek truth"
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7783, for the hell of it Posted by delsbrothergeorge, Wed Aug-28-02 08:28 AM
TITLE:
obligations
CREDIT:
Tim Adkins
TEXT:
If I...
thank you laugh at your joke wish you good luck say that your shirt is dope wave you to cut in front of me on the freeway help you move give you my full attention while you're sharing a problem tell you I love you;
I do it 'cause I want to, not 'cause I'm s'posed to.
My only obligations in this life are:
to breathe to sleep to eat to shit & to die.
Because I must do each of these by myself, I am not obligated to you in any way
& the only one I might do for you is the last one.
But that'd only be 'cause I want to, not 'cause I'm s'posed to.
BIOGRAPHY:
As an observer of the human condition, Tim Adkins has been dabbling in poety from his home in Los Angeles since the summer of 2001.
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7784, Here's mine Posted by Eusebio, Thu Aug-29-02 04:07 AM
(i hope i'm not too late) My name is Adom Jeffers. I'm 17 and i live in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. I haven't been writing for very long but it's sumthin i love to do. Here's my fav piece (it's untitled):
The future is opaque Cuz the past has been masked We’re supposed to know where we’re going But the map that contained all our wrong turns Has been shredded Our navigators beheaded Placed under the guillotine And now we have a billion teens Going where we’ve already been Seeing horrors we’ve already seen Put in a twisted time machine If you don’t know what I mean Then listen carefully
Glorification of Black exploitation Stereotypical manifestation Thoughts of revolution Replaced with cerebral pollution Moral dilution POISON Our brains, it has tapped Our plans it has scrapped So we’re headed in circles Singin’ about pills that are purple Not realizin’ how hurtful Ignorance can be
Backwards my people we’re running fast Back to the days of the gloomy past My people let me ask you this today: How the hell do you win a race running the wrong way? Will we find our way back? Cuz we’re more than lost I’m trying to avoid another black holocaust
But really it’s a cinch To defeat Willie Lynch What we need is knowledge And courage, just a pinch Every inch, we gotta fight for, it was said by Ché: Toward the victory always—¡Hasta la victoria siempre!
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7785, END! Posted by paperdollpoet, Thu Aug-29-02 04:09 AM
thank you to all that have helped with this project!
your efforts are appreciated truly..
i am glad it came thru in the end!
:)
lei
---
1 out of 3 girls is sexually abused before she is 18.
save our daughters
"the more we learn the more we are, or ought to be, dumbfounded." © author unknow at this time.
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