Poetry week discontinued but always remembered.

The last was first , the first was last all coming from the future that already passed . The past is required for those that want to skip class and move fast as if you’re cast as a extra in Hollywood films . Looking for a part that put you off in the dark , fulfilling space as a art . A lost star out in matter off the charts and has so much heart but is often filling and feeling tragic parts acting as their own evil counterpart . Life imitates art and art demonstrate life . We all carry twice the battle of how we travel on in this world . Life is too short to settle at less and to expect more when we are done and at rest. So I embrace my stress and express the weight of what been planted in my chest . I wrote and posted poetry to show that I am the best and to love that was too long and too early and it gave me a test . A test of will and skill and a hope of a back room deal . I hope it would eventually become real but it was just the way that I only could feel . To my thoughts and my  Falt our fate was already sealed before our hearts ever got healed . The red and the blue pill made our love tragically ill. I then wrote posts and poems on trying to appeal to the masses of people that been hooked on the same pills that got them into a routine  or a drill .  The only thing we have in common is the way we often heal . The greater city of Houston is where I live . The story of my hopes and different strokes to try to stay real . True to myself and to destiny being fulfilled . Everything is literally s l o w e d d o w n and chilled . Houston is a problem for those that aren’t mindful of how other people feel . Poetry week discontinued but always remembered . Just think about the opposite gender and how sexuality is the defender of what we all remember and how the complexity of the heart will always stay tender . I rest and surrender my art to remember , poetry is the new necessary to our real accessories .

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Sing A Poem Of Our Faith..

I will rise with the sun and be one  with the wind and run away from my sin with the spirit that is left with in me . I will not envy what have left me so empty . Why would I have sympathy when I am still in captivity . My free hope is at liberty and my free speech is negativity on most of humanity . My intellect is full of beauty and vanity that rocks most men and women sanity that push them to use profanity . To confuse my brother’s and sister’s with so many fantasies .  And philosophies that undermine prophecies that is apart of our history and of our mystery . When and where we came from to be master’s of our destiny . The wicked have given to us a challenge for our Faith and our space to judge us . They drugged us and drug us and accused us after using us . And abused us with our own trust . There is our past that we dare not discuss . Maybe because it came too fast for us to adjust and our will was swallowed up by our lust . And all we was left with was dust and the heavy odor of rust . In who will we trust to raise  our promise and power up . The Heavenly father is all we need to stay in touch . The Son of Man will then keep us in his clutch . So we will be behold and untouched . And many nations will love a few so much for the Most High has indeed a chosen bunch . Through many routines and dreams have we all seen our past sins being cleaned and us as a whole being redeemed . Who told you ? You wasn’t a priest , king , or a queen . This is our natural essence and not just a title or a theme . It’s a divine self esteem that we must learn how to sing and how to beam our hope and faith into being seen and more than what it seems . Sing a poem of hope to bless us to get along . And sing a poem of our Faith that teach us that we are where we belong . Then sing these poems with strength and might that we will reach over the darkness that is cast upon us .  Sing a poem of our faith to let the spirit dwell among us , in a space and at a pace that we can hear it warn us .

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Happy Poetry Week .. Under Pressure .

I am a man with no plan and no identity of the land that I live in and that I see . I am the last stand of my father’s seed . And I am a stream from a vast sea . But nobody will notice me because the ocean is so deep and society stalk’s many lost sheep.  So I retreat while the world repeat . I have my soul to keep . A role to complete and I have the unknown to reach . I have that and a narrow road to seek . Under pressure I will compete and I will not sleep . Under pressure I will be weak but I won’t be beat . I will be unique while under pressure . I will never cheat , I won’t hold my peace . I won’t fold into one piece . Under pressure I will be a well known treasure that will increase . This is my hope , this is my poem and this is where I belong , under pressure.

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Happy Poetry Week .. Poem Title No Subject .

I am not the only one that want to have some fun . And I am not the lonely one that wants to take off and run . I am about where I’ve been and what I have done . In the city of Houston writing my poems and fighting what is wrong with being alone . It seems as if I have a essence of a loud strong cologne . I often escape at home . I lose myself within my thoughts of vastness . It fills me up with gladness that my mind can just imagine . When and where and what had happened. A concept of life or hope or both . A contrast or a bypass of knowing what isn’t seen yet but is a thought process of many things I bet . So it may seem as a regret but it can be a destiny I haven’t met . But I often have to check if I am thinking correct . So what is next . A pre future or present that I will use to connect to all anything that I should already expect . My poems are a showcase of discipline and respect .

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Happy Poetry Week .. Nobody knows you .

We don’t want sympathy we want our history . . Nobody knows you , when you’re in a hole . Nobody knows you when you have to be bold . So let my story be told , as if I was very old . No one was there to hold me , when I was sold . No one was there to clothes me , when I was cold . No one saw me when I was naked on the road . I was beautiful then and now as it been showed . Nobody knows you , when you in a hole . Friends may be there but that’s not their role . I carry myself not apart from the old . But with everything I have been taught now I am a whole . Life lessons learned when I saw myself being burn , life lessons learned when I saw myself being hung . I thought to myself and said what is wrong with my tongue . For I held my peace and let others will be done . Nobody knows you , when you in this hole . I told my life story as it unfold . I am a man from glory with a native soul ! I carry what is left of my father’s toll . I guess my people saved the best for last to show me how they was controlled. I see why my history can never be told . Because I will stop being a mystery , and I’ll stop falling into holes that I’ve already knew . This is my history . This is my destiny of what has been passed and asked of me . happy poetry week y’all.. 

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While Waiting .. Beautiful People .

While waiting .. I found out about us. I found beautiful people in one place and nobody knew we was one race . Because we all have different understandings written upon our face . Some say that we have lost our way and some say you all have falled from Grace . But I say we nevered lost our Faith. Because we are beautiful in so many ways that God gave us the ability to show off our rays and that is why we give him the praise . Now we the people have to be brave for we crave that one day that we are no longer slaves . I said we will no longer be slaves . You are beautiful in so many ways that people dare you to stay same as if we would change their game . I may sound vain but I am not a shame of where came from or what I have became . For this physical body have nothing more for me to gain . Just pain and change that will drive me insane . But spiritually I will still have to gain . For life comes easy and love comes twice as hard . Just because every once in awhile we deserve a reward . Something to keep us moving forward. While waiting I became a sure of myself and my real name that won’t get me credit or any fame but nevertheless I won’t and will not be ashamed. 

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Happy Poetry Week .. I can add words .

I can add words .. A street with a light . This street is full of life . where can I go to question my life , was I always right , was I loved , did I do something just because I was like no other . Would I survive and go a bit further , then comeback and hold my shoulders . I wasn’t mature just much bolder looking right back I’m blessed to be older . My knowledge compact and running over . My back to the fence I’m all intense trying to make sense of my last two cents . Which way will I go which way will I know. I know what’s up I have a cut that I don’t want nobody to touch it would mean that much to where it will hurt you and I . I survived this street with my instinct and all I can and will do is react and think . Relax , repeat , and take a seat and watch the world pour into the street . happy poetry week. 

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