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Showing posts with label Written Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Written Poetry. Show all posts

I Am BlakaMale (BlakaMale)

As I was stolen from my birthplace never to see my elders face again not knowing eventually I would be for sale in a land destined to catch hell, I am BlakaMale.
You beat my body and leave scars of shame gave me your name as I endured the pain as my mind reminded unchained as I play your game seeking freedom I would find through reading those books regardless how long it took. That taught me I am one of a kind and my mind is not for sale, I am BlakaMale.

Old School (By Mario Vitale)

Remember the old boom box boogey down to the socks
Reggie Jackson chewy bars & Tommy's pop rocks
Parachutte pants with the hair high fade
Wake up late in a purple haze saying it's going to be one of those days
Back it up even further playing cowboys and indians in the sand box
Waiting at the corner for the ice cream man to come with his stuff
Boy, hero's fade from the scene such an evil scheme
Wouldn't care in what I said or did throwing an M80 under a garbage lid
Back when it was fashionable to be late for your date
Baking grandmas cookies in the oven for sure
Sipping on your favorite beverage while the pops watch Dinah Shore 
Those good old days that have gone before yet soon will discover
The over weight lover from another mother type of brother
Fast cars and the midnight scene with the freaks coming out
Flip flops with your stretch blue jeans such a party scene
In quaint encounters with the local police running in the street
Falling mailboxes girls wearing their Sunday best putting their lovers in a test
A time well spent in thought while going to the fair with music everywhere
Back in school those days listening to teachers stopping later at the mall
The movies back then made you feel ten feet tall with Stallone time to roam
Party's at your neighbors having forts put up in the back
Mommy & Daddy working to hard enough to give them a heart attack
Learn to relax with my rubix cube later playing hacky sack
A soft kiss from a lover under cover as she spins the bottle
I will never forget those tender moments in the sun thank you I got to run. 

Red roses (By Cynthia)

The blood soaked sweater sleeves screamed "help" as the darkness of the night covered my thoughts and mind slowly seeping into my consciousness.

 1,2,3 I took a deep breath as the blade sinked deeper into my skin forming an external manifestation of the internal pain I felt inside.

 It became harder to breathe as my consciousness slowly drifted away leaving the bathroom tiles covered in red reminding me of roses as I took my final breath.

 The world became silent just for a moment. A few scribbled notes and a lifeless corps were the only things standing.

 An awful death lacking depth, and daddy's little girl who never seemed to learn just why she was this way.

No matter what the author of my life continues to type. You see Death is a fact of life.

And the wheel keeps spinning on and on not allowing me to say I was wrong!

 We move on

One More (Sawyer Love)

“One more.”
“Take it.”
“No, I’ll throw up.”
“No you won’t.”
“I always do with this stuff.”