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GhostwriterI adore the war in your words,
I seek the alliteration,
Clusters of spectacles,
While you sit there wasting.
An image painted with a translucent touch,
Movement in a dimension I can never muck,
Yet the mosaic of your life comes only in black and white,
A hint of grey-scale, then out goes the lantern light.
You are poor in physical dimension,
But rich in mental dilation,
As you carry this burden you are offered no solace,
A troubled writer just finding his place,
I am just assembling the facts but there is no case,
This unseen talent will be a statue,
A martyr of matterMy mind,
A quench for thought crafts a dryness that dissolves over a day,
The demand hides in plain sight,
But I still try to keep it at a bay,
The curse of free will obtrudes my belongings,
Feeling mugged with everything at my side,
What will I gain from it?
A puzzle without a tactic,
I feel Confusion in Confucius,
Faith becoming religulous,
Age coming from protracted abortion,
Destruction carrying pressurised suction,
It's a matter of mind,
We all have a play.
Kanye's Mind.. .I aint no scientist
So Im not gonna stretch this
With any emphasis
But what is mycosis?
It sounds so ferocious
Like I better be cautious
But the feeling too nauseous
Trapped in a metamorphosis
They call me Dr. Atrocious!
Man, they all loafers
I'm such a boaster
Acting all Hollywood posters
I'm all about..
Blowing out bombs
While you nuns gettin number ones
Man whats wrong?
Dude this look like a song?
I aint got a story to tell
Just a tale from hell
Cos that's where Im at
That's how I rap
They devil's on my earlobe whispering
Nah I aint a rat
I'm just an English prat
In need of cataract
Living on crack
Begging for a new contract
Representing the single sickle cell syllable
Hearing kids singing
Why ye' chat so gay?
Im now in a land
In need of hearty nourishment
Biscuits are a punishment
I not got a front
Was dyslexic from the start
Now masking the irrelevant
My mind's so full of fun
BenignityLet's escape this inception,
Find our own direction,
It's interference versus natural selection,
With the arrangement resembling an infection,
Some may hide through deflection,
Some stand for election,
All are run by atoned affection.
We are encapsulated by this correction,
Covertly fighting for detection,
Bridging traction through linear-interpolation,
Hoping to create crashing waves of adoration,
Gasping for the correct equation,
Rarely finding the elation,
Instead we travel a malignant path to unify ourselves in a foreign nation.
A name like so many,
But one of a kind,
A kindred spirit,
Yet a converging message they find.
An abundant loss for many,
Scarce gain to a few,
The power remains on the passenger side,
Everything else is subdue,
Twas purely a curtain call,
Shouting for you.
There is no encore,
Just a disappearing act,
They remain mystified,
Scrambling over fact over fact.
This still seems so fictitious,
Like a terrified knight's tale,
Now five years to the day,
Never will they be short of a cry.
Be kind Vinder.
Let the wicked weather be swept aside,
They still have countless days,
Albeit with a dented pride.
Dark ProphetI feel the need for complexity,
Simplicity is encircled in weakness to me,
I will write this damning self-prophesising anthology,
Without being tamed by the terrified id in me,
You have lost all life now let the super reside,
For it is he who is in power,
That has the right to devour,
I am God,
I am the saviour, the malevolent, and the sinner,
Witness my behaviour as I cry tears of a victor,
My light is so indistinct that it eludes most senses,
The darkness will prelude all human defences,
I feel nothing but despise,
Find the truth in my eyes,
I am a prophet,
Make of it as you want.
Non ameAll I ever want is to break free,
I have a life waiting out there for me,
My disillusion is mere devolution,
It's my time to shine,
For I have little time to claim what is mine,
My selfish tracks will support many acts,
But with the circus you'll all fade,
Go home and leave this renegade.
My eye is always on the prize,
You'll be mine,
I have seen many times that same sign,
A compass with no arrow,
A traitor with no allegiance,
A stopwatch without the stop,
I cannot believe this,
It is ticking,
I am brittle now,
I am thinking,
Is it all over now?
ChristianHis death came in 96'.
He was a rolling stone crack baker,
His life repeatedly raped as the sentences passed by,
Lifting child hood memories that could make the Brooklyn streets seem shy,
The Friday beatings were to perfect an inmate's Sunday golf drive,
His colour often changed,
He stood at neither side of the racial divide,
A loner in all his years,
He learns he was mistaken,
But stays away of being eternally forsaken,
Cometh last September breeze he could finally awaken,
Open his eyes,
He has now no disguise,
Not anymore a cocky Caucasian,
It's poetic irony he carries the name of the son,
Tested and crucified,
He often laughs before he cries,
One more day is bliss,
He can now make it what he wants of this.
End.His eyes are round and swollen,
Has been many a year that the fire has all but faded,
Emotion is strife but only for him to see,
A life just living to end at a plea,
A bargain that cannot be reckoned,
For he has not the strength to succumb,
A hope in a wish,
That is all that he can fare.
Once she came by his side in prayer,
For just the heat made it all clear,
A resounding clause to his expired contract,
A recurring ring rising to a rhetoric question,
An euphoria which made it again all well,
Enlightened by the glistening sprinkles of sparkling spell.
A soft surge in his eyes,
Before his almighty blows out the night sky,
Are they together all fair and well?
The mystery of passing is but an end of misery for him as far as we may foretell.
Today Is The Day
Today is the day.
Today is the day that you stop making excuses.
Today is the day you put your fork down and lace up your shoes.
Today is the day you step outside and run like there is fire at your heels.
Today is the day you think of sweat as gold.
Today is the day you fall down and get back up.
Today is the day you feel the ache in your calves.
Today is the day you pant like a dog.
Today is the day you tell yourself you'll do it again tomorrow and mean it.
Today is the day you make a change.
Six O' ClockLay me to sleep on the warm summer curbs.
I want the skyscrapers in my bones
And their light beneath my nails.
I want a burgundy August strung between my teeth
So I can suck the seconds from the season
And smile like September.
there were tidepools in his eyes, andhe remembered blue walls
like ocean miles, time he couldn't forget
because it welled up
like waves beneath his skin; lined with creases he'd
earned through eternity, he watched
the sky and asked how long had it really been -
nothing saved from
the ashes but saltwater stains
on clothes, on cheeks in place of
(the sun never stood a chance)
and the way he'd always slept with a s-stutter -
standing with waves crashing like
thunder to his knees he remembered a time
not long ago when it was
and he knew he was scared of the
end because he
didn't want to sink beneath the water, nothing
left but bones and sightless
(inhuman in the fullest; a monster to the third degree, he knew) -
and he put it off
once and again until it came for
him and knocked on the door; invited itself
in and told him now, i've been patient
for a while, but -
and he realized
amidst a falling grace that sometimes
death is the most human of us
The BirdShe was so desperate for love
She couldn't find in herself
She was perfectly willing to throw herself at the stars
Convinced herself she could be completely happy
With someone who put her in a nest.
That gilded nest was beautiful.
But a nest none the less.
It just took a shining mirror
To see how it had become a cage.
So she resolutely found the key
And let herself out.
She'd never noticed she'd outgrown the nest
To the point where it had become a claustrophobic cage
It ripped and tore at her feathers and flesh
Until she finally wrenched herself free
To flee as far as she could get
From that awful cage.
Along the way,
She found another mirror
And looking into it....
She found me,
A reflection of herself.
She saw me, a reflection of her,
Without her cloak of lies
Leadening her hunched shoulders,
Concaving her entire persona.
She discovered my beautiful colors,
The fine sheen to my feathers
And enthralling grey of my eyes.
She flew away,
But I met her every mirror after
I saw her slouch
you ate the stars and i ate my heart.this is how i was
fell in love with a boy
with razor sharp
teeth and a
poet's heart. it's really a
pretty kind of thing.
using his borrowed
tongue, he took me in like a
four a.m cigarette (slowly, and
with loneliness in every one of his
joints). we both thought
that enough smoke
would fill in the cracks in our
rib cages; we were both
he told me that he would
like to be a
planet: "all that open
space, all those dying
stars. it would give me room to
instead of telling him that
there is no oxygen in
outer space, i
watched him feel his lungs
implode. it broke my
bones to witness it; but it's really a
dreadfully pretty thing to
comfortcurling into quilts so deep
bubbles of tension run off
my body like soap, and i
clutch that raggedy little
dog to my chest like cloth
can make me whole.
nightfallThe night air is cool.
Street lamps are coming on
and from my window seat,
narrow and confining,
there's a person on bike.
I wonder where they're going,
who they are, what they'll see,
whether they'll be friend or foe,
and if that will matter to me.
Ah, they're turning, turning,
out of sight now
behind the houses,
the trees, the lights
behind the sheltered,
comforting feel of night
I'm starting to feel witchy
as the first star shows its twinkle
thinking of these rhymes and rhythms
Like the beat of my heart
matches the breath of the wind
and the exhalation
of my sleeping sister next door
and the snores of father and mother
down the hall.
It's a night of magic and mystery:
no cloud covers the moon,
not quite full, not quite empty
and the scratching noise of branches
echoes my imagination,
narrow and confined,
my body starts to ache
longing for the comfort of the bed
just a few feet away.
I turn from the window,
face the curtain, but a glimpse
of another biker catches my eye
and I'm trans
What is Isolation you ask?
Isolation is to be left out when you want to be in.
Isolation is feeling that sense of loneliness.
Isolation is feeling alone when ten thousand people surround you.
Isolation is hearing laughter in a room and silence when you walk in.
Isolation is staying away from people, afraid they won’t talk back.
Isolation is sad.
Isolation is small.
Isolation is hard to describe unless you are the person feeling it.
Isolation is quiet.
Isolation is counting how many times you get let down and eventually lose track.
Isolation is wanting to forgive but not knowing how.
Isolation is uttering a cry from the depths of your soul and waiting forever for a reply.
Isolation is not hearing an answer when you ask a question.
Isolation makes you feel worthless.
Isolation has to be the cruelest of emotions.
I know the feeling of isolation.
I sense it in myself.
There's nothing you choose to do about it.
For I've tried everything already.
So don't be surprised,
If I'm gone from this place.
Stop talking, Start screamingStop talking
It’s not enough
Maybe you should try to scream
Everyone does it
Stamp your feet
Slam the door
What you stand for
And when somebody
Has noticed you
Do what all the others
Would do too
Just don’t quit
You like the attention more
Than you could admit
Don’t be embarrassed
It’s what we all do
Everyone denies it
But we all know it’s true
Screaming our opinions
On the whole internet
And begging for attention
Is how we lack intellect
This is who we are
It’s the purpose of our society
Everybody wants to be heard
Ignoring the last bit of propriety
So do what you think is right
Scream whatever comes in mind
Do anything you can do
To make someone notice you
The SnowballThe snowball gathers its flakes one by one,
Allegiant forces can be harder undone,
A mesh of sleet is all that shall become.
Parting gravity is our utmost fight,
One which provokes an enduring delight,
A shimmering sparkle against the arctic air,
Can a snowflake ever guest appear?
Dissect its ends with a Spartans spear?
Or does it become the one that tried,
Crucified and simply tossed aside.
I can see the future now,
Snowball I have made my decision you cow.
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