10/18...
Two days now one away/other than the clock striking 12, much it doesn't change/you had already changed and I wasn't the same/didn't expect perfect it was ever gonna stay/still too soon to try and persuade/that the memories have had time enough to fade/not when years feel like months, and months feel like days/just the feelings that continue to decay/don't know what more you want me to say/already told you well done, you got me, well played/even tho to me it was never considered a game/can always claim we could've had it made/that thinking now is far, far, far too late/felt as tho a planned escape/not knowing yet you had already strayed/so much time away I would waste, too large an amount to count as the years and tears are all long gone down the drain/I mean if that's your frame of mind, fine, but mine, is to find, the positive and leave it to rest where together we chose to be laid/in peace meant to remain/I know mine I've fully attained/found closure on my own despite attempts to reach out in vain/promised to accept it if the day ever came/ that we had our time but couldn't fight fate/the friendship lost the final promise you decided to break/there are no resentments as forgiveness long ago to you I gave/mine to give yours to take/don't worry about me tho I'm okay/I recognize my purpose is great/no room in my heart for hate/I'm good I've found my place/hope one day soon you reach an equal state/wish you happiness love and grace/still believe in soul mates/ bittersweet it can be as sometimes you gotta lose it to know how love truly tastes...
10/18
Fissures...
Tremors shake the surface from below/as the cracks above begin to show/legs getting wobbly ready to fold/as in they bend then out they bow/out of my control, this wearing on my soul/embers fly as i sit in front of the orange glow/warm to the touch while inside i feel so cold/not from fear of the unknown/but the void that haunts me like their ghosts/still this is the path that's been chose/the light inside I've shone while the darkness remains untold/more than words just to post/to my heart i hold them close/memories in time that are froze/stored safely away from the reach of those/who too much away from me already stole/from manic to depressed a drastic shift in the poles/like walking on burning coals/disassociate the pain for the next burden the new day bestows/never mean to impose/still different strokes for different folks so aside from all the jokes/beauty in the pain I'll find remaining high in my hopes/that when backs are against the ropes/a spirit of strength this word invokes/encouraging each to assume their roles/before trumpets are trumped, seals are unsealed, and emptied are the bowls...
Figment of imagination...
Time after time and then/time and time again/these heartstrings of mine your bow you strike against/and slyly back you simply slide right in/back in my head, back in my bed once again i find you in/that i must kinda like it, i know is what some might sense/as i keep letting you play me like a violin/i close my eyes as in/my mind you take me on a magic carpet ride though the sky upon the wind/little nighttime trip/under the stars so brightly lit/in the full moon's light two shadows kiss/enjoy this momentary time of bliss/until the sun rises and it vanishes again...
Mr. Davis
A mindset created by inequality and oppression
A person willing to ask the "wrong" question
Fear-bred hatred creating demons in white cloaks
With pointy caps lead by wizardry and hopes
These demons had desires that inspired marches in the Distric of Colombia
Where Martin Luther had a dream to fight this unright phobia
Mr. Daryl Davis, a man with such an ideaology
Yet he never studied people or their psychology
Instead he gave respect to the wizard in charge
He shook the leader's hands, and greeted him with open arms
But Daryl wasnt the man the wizard had expected
But he had not feared the man these demons respected
You see Daryl was black, and he was facing the Klan
This brought out his true colors, he wanted to understand
The whites had hate for people of dark color
They never tried to talk, to get to know each other
So Mr. Davis chose a different path with a goal in mind
He spoke to the grand wizard to get to know this hatred inside
Nowadays its different, theres hate with no progression
Its fuck you this, fuck you that, all said with aggression
We can make the biggest difference if we all became friends
Because truthfully, its either love or hate in the end
If you wish for the hate to stop, take my advice
Talk to one another, stop the hate and be nice
Understand one another, thats how we progress
So we can all become equal, and only then may we rest.
Hi, i’m a straight, white, male Trump supporter.
I am heterosexual
I am caucasian
I support the President of the United States, Donald Trump.
Depending on the group, every one of these things are hated.
Im straight, the LGBT+ community hates me.
Im white, many groups of "social justice" hate me.
I support Trump, a good 50% of America hates me.
I cant say anything offensive to anyone or else its hate speech.
Yet I can sit here and turn on the news or look up a YouTube video and watch protestors who hate me do the same things they consider hate if I do it to them.
I got into an argument, somehow black people cant be racist and only white people can cause well, we're white.
Yet that same person can call me whatever they want, say what they want, or do whatever they want to me and have it considered "social justice."
Heres the hard reality to the situation.
Those of you out there who think im ignorant I say this, you're the ignorant one.
Judge me for being born white, judge me for being born male, my bad, sorry I couldnt control it.
Thinking im racist for being white and only that, is infact racism in its own.
My ancestors didnt just enslave people of color, they enslaved white people too.
But you may not have heard about the Irish enslavement in New York in the 1800s and early 1900s.
Oh yeah, I also recall millions of jews being enslaved by WHITE GERMANS, but that doesnt matter cause im white so I dont know oppression.
Im a white rapper from the city of Midland, Texas.
I live on the east side, which just so happens to be the "hood" or whatever.
Yet my vote was for Trump, whos claimed to be racist and a fool.
Not perfect but...
Better than Socialism, Mr. Sanders.
Better than secrets, Mrs. Clinton.
So again, keep fighting ignorance with ignorance.
After all when we decide to fight we burn down our own neighborhoods.
Detroit, Compton, Los Angeles, just to name some examples.
Once you try to see my point of view, ill try to see yours.
To Long Life
The gravekeeper’s child dances with me
He is my starlight, though this he can’t see
I wish he'd leave me on his own
But I'd hate to be alone
He must live, this he knows
But I can't stand it when he goes
He tempts the blade, I see his wrists
One for every night we've kissed
He and I are worlds apart
But death can't fell two lonely hearts
We sing and toast and dance in spite
Of the dawning morning light
I know he wants to join me here
In the tombs of yesteryear
He is lonely; hates his eyes
But I don't want him to die
Please, my friend, you've so much
To help, to hurt, to know, to touch
I'll dance with you, my darling dove;
Continue on, and live for love
--
a twin poem from the opposite perspective of "A Toast to Us"
don't know about the title for this one
#poetry
Distasteful
I want to know if you can taste it...
That guile riddled poison pouring from your lips.
Does it stain your tongue and corrode your teeth?
Or have you gained immunity
With every vile lie you've swallowed with pride?
You are whispering obscenities,
And splattering walls with your filth.
You are seeping poison from your pores,
And begging me to savor your skin.
You are spilling lies like truth in glass cups
And urging me to drink.
But I have no taste for it, my dear.
I have no taste for it.
#poetry #freeverse
A Toast to Us
I am blind,
You are a ghost
And tonight,
We dance and toast
“To our health!”
Laugh you and I
Though we both know
I’d rather die
Than dance alone
Through this soft storm
Without your light
To keep me warm
Though I can’t see
I know your shine
And I wish
That it were mine
Though I know
It's one day soon
I must wait
Beneath the moon
For the day
When you and I
Can dance away
Our afterlife
--
Found half-finished in my notebook (stanzas 1&2 + concept), tidied it up and finished it
#poetry
Narcissist.
I’m glad that you were born,
With no flaws instilled in you,
Since it’s hard to feel real feelings,
That only real humans do,
It must feel great to be so perfect,
And never be in the wrong,
For when real humans admit to their mistakes,
Sometimes they don’t feel so strong,
But now tell me why you’re angry,
Are you not proud of what you’ve done,
Is the narcissist inside you,
Wanting to escape away and run,
Oh no he’s back and tightly gripping,
His tiny hands around your soul,
And once again I’m the one to blame,
And the one out of control.
What’s Behind the Door
The stranger knocked upon the door,
A creaking, wooden throb,
And someone on the other side
Unlatched and turned the knob.
Uncertainty, a soft, "Hello,"
And, "May I use your phone?"
The person on the other side
Appeared to be alone.
An observation taken in,
No pictures on the wall.
He pointed somewhere down the way-
"Go on and make a call."
The thunder boomed; the stranger stalled
As wires were cut instead.
The gentleman began to sense
A subtle hint of dread.
A conversation thus ensued-
"So what has brought you out?
The rain has flooded everything,
And wiped away the drought.
Say, did you walk, or did you drive?
Why don't I take your coat?"
The stranger slowly moved his arms,
A sentimental gloat.
The water from the pouring skies
Enveloped cloth and shoe.
"Say, would you like a place to sleep?
I'll leave it up to you."
The person on the other side
Discarded his mistrust.
The stranger said his tire was flat,
And shed the muddy crust.
"The phone won't work," he also said.
"It could just be the storm.
Perhaps I will stay here tonight,
To keep me safe and warm."
The patron of the house agreed.
He hadn't seen the wire.
The chilly dampness prompted him
To quickly build a fire.
"You have a name? They call me Ed.
My wife was Verna Dean.
She passed away five years ago
And left me here as seen.
I guess it's really not so bad.
We never had a child.
I loved that Verna awful much,"
He said and sadly smiled.
"No property to divvy up.
The bank will get it all.
Say, do you want to try again
To go and make that call?"
The stranger grinned and left the flame
As to the phone he strode.
Within his pocket, knives and twine
In hiding seemed to goad.
A plan was formed- he'd kill the man;
Eviscerate him whole.
The twine would keep him firmly held;
The knife would steal his soul.
A lusty surge erupted hence;
A wicked bit of sin.
The stranger hadn't noticed yet
That someone else came in.
About the time a shadow fell,
He spun to meet a pan.
The room around him faded out
As eyes looked on a man.
A day or two it seemed had passed,
And when he woke all tied,
The stranger gazed upon old Ed
Who simply said, "You lied."
Reversing thoughts, the moment fled
And Ed said in a lean,
"No worries, stranger. None at all.
Hey, look, here's Verna Dean!"
He looked upon a wraith in rage;
It seemed his little lie
Combusted in a burning fit-
He didn't want to die.
So many victims in his life,
Some fifty bodies strewn.
And now he was the victim; now
The pain to him was known.
The stranger fought against the twine,
And noticed by his bed
The knife once in his pocket left
A trail of something red.
A bowl filled full of organs sat
As Verna poured some salt.
She exited with all of them.
"You know, this is your fault.
We demons wait for just the day
The guilty take the bait
And play with matches one last time-
I simply cannot wait
To taste the death within your flesh;
The venom in your gut.
So now you know the way they felt-
Hey, you've got quite a cut!"
The person on the other side
Removed his human skin-
Before his wife came back for more,
He offered with a grin:
"Say, stranger, is there anything
You'd like to say at all?"
I looked at all the blood and said,
"I'd like to make that call ... "