Writing 'Water' does not quench thirst 
Nor does scribbling 'food' calm hunger

equally invisible my poems seem to never reach;

i could mix blend and reinvent all the words the world has known;
and 'incomplete' would still be mine

because words are vague things that can never fill the void left by the absence of your touch.

Roses are fragile things with thorns
and if i nurtured one everytime i was convincede i felt alive with love
my hands would be a scar-mapped mess
the blood would pool the very foundation that keeps me sane

But i fight Roses with paper, a cheaply baught thrill , 
my double-edge sword cuz i write shit on both sides

and if science ever invents a papercut-stich
ill pencil fight a motherfuckin bitch.

They fuck you up,
Your mom and dad,
They hadn’t meant to,
but they had,

Please forgive them,
they didn’t know,
had not a clue,
from the get-go

They raised you well,
is what they thought,
but they did not,
they fucked you up,

Please forgive them,
they only meant good
they’d raise you different,
if only they could

I read the mastery you have over words

Your control and manipulations of language

And an insipid green creeps through.

Envious of your skill, your depth, your style, your flow.

I see the grace with which you arc and line colorful textures

The elegance in spreading your visio ... Read More

SHE SHOWED HER ASS

She showed her ass … but not as the usual metaphor conveys

She showed me a side of herself in a multitude of ways

I pick up the pen
and I must begin
to write what's within
if I don't
it would surely be a sin
but this paper is too thin
for the weight of this pen.
If the paper rips
what will I do then?
(Back to square one)
I begin again
new paper new pen
a different rhyme within
(Release)

Pouring from the soul
The inner part of me
This poetic floetic flow
Of my poetry
Pouring from my heart
deep down inside
I'm spilling it al ... Read More

POets are simply complicated, we live to share the deepest darkest parts of our souls, craving to be understood, but secretly wishing only ppl liike us would understand. Pain is the reason we write, speak, teach. Its the blood that pumps through our veins that keeps us motivated. Suicidal thoughts that kill tha happiness in my mind is whats keepin tha pleasure in my heart pumpin. Dippin into the minds of our audience we bring them into our world, bearing our souls teachin them what our scars ... Read More

It started at the harbor, The Harbor of Pearl,

When the Japanese shook up the White Man’s' world,

The bombing of the harbor brought tears to our eyes,

To see that the Japs took us by surprise,

There's a Fantasy Factor

A human reactor

The part I react to

Is the part where I have to get away

but eventually come back to

reality is too pure in this un-perfect place

so i made my own

my home away from home

you probably wouldn't understand

but reality has to be gone

even if just for a minute

off to my world

and I'm the king in it

I spread my wings in it

do my thing in it

fill my brain wit peace

This is the most climatic
Super nova type fantastic
Whip us into shape elastic
Site with poets so carasmatic
With inspirational tactics
I need to stand up and clap this
PoetryVote is my beginning
My end is in my words
My heart pumps neo soul
My love for Poetry overflows
I have a dark side yet Poetry v lets me release
She is so sexy make woman weak in the knees
When I'm here I beg for please
Inspire me to write a masterpiece
Yet everyone here is the tr ... Read More

QUEEN'S RIGHT OF SUCCESSION

Tribulations you have endured,
the trials you've been through,
were preparations in effect,
for his journey there to you.

Today you await,
tomorrow you have earned.
Predestined from creation,
rewards of abundance you deserve.

Footsteps leading where he awaits,
on the threshold of consummation,
Introduction to your mate,
a queen in ceremony of succession.

Others may have touched you,
yet ... Read More

I am slightly embarrassed to admit 
That I misinterpreted his ability to write journals of insightful poetry
To then mean that he could easily read me.
But the lines at the corners of my eyes 
Were seen by him to be only a sign of age
And no amount of lyrical lines on a page 
Could ever be expressed to him in such a way 
That he might then gain an understanding.

Nights of torturous questioning, words screamed in angered supposition 
As a ... Read More

Come here let me stimulate your brain

I'm going to fondle and tickle and play a game

Let me run around inside your mind

"Hey! Stop looking at my behind!"

I want to make your body peak

And all I am going to do is just speak

My eyes, my lips, my hips all in tune

Baby, your mind will be coming soon

... Read More