It is written
That there shall come a time when all the great poets shall be heard
It is written... by me

It is written
That there shall come a time when all the greats shall achieve their destinies
It is written... by me

It is also written
That their messages shall reach all... by air, by land
And by sea

Patience young poet, it is worth the wait
Have some faith
Think of that which you have put on paper throughout the years
Think back and appreciate your unique and creative ability to express yourself
And be proud of you
Be proud of that which you do
Young poet
You are a legend
And you know it
Ambitous young poet
It is your world
You own it
Let no one tell you otherwise
One word separates you from the others... 'wise'
This, young poet you need to realize
Work on your art
Don't compromise
Let the words express the passion they see in your eyes
Young poet
I understand and can relate with you
Young poet
Know that it is genius because you wrote it
You are a lion, not a kitten
Stand up and roar, and if they ask you why you are doing it
Tell them 'it is written'.

This is the story of a man
The story of a brilliant man
Most men would call him a resilient man
A man of principle and logic
A man who’s principles may defy logic
A man from whom come words with magic
And illusion
The illusion is the man
The illusion is a brilliant man
The illusion would make him appear a resilient man
The illusion of principle and logic
The illusion of principles that appear to defy logic
The illusion is this ‘brilliant man’s’ magic
And deceit
This deceit that is the illusion of the man
This deceit that is the illusion of the man’s brilliance
Of his resilience
Of his principle
Of his logic
The deceit of his principles that apparently defy all levels of logic… that seem to be a notch above our regular reasoning
The deceit of his oratory magic that enthralls us all
Day in, day out
Season out, season in
You know who I’m talking about…
That politician that fooled us for too long, and very soon, will be on his way out.

I just want to say thank you
Thanks
Thanks to all those people that never gave up on me when I almost gave up on myself
Thanks to all those that offered a helping hand, you will always deserve my help
If you will ever need it
This piece you will know is about you… yes you
My friend, my ‘fan’… no one else will ever read it
When I write for you I do not just write, this piece I breathe it… I bleed it
That sort of support and faith in me from you… I realize now, I need it
Thank you
Thanks
You who pulled me aside at the bar… and said “I have never heard a doper rapper thus far”
You who said “That poem I read… the one you wrote, killed me dead”
You… my friend, are the reason I keep my head above water
The reason I don’t drown… word to my mother…
To my unborn son… to my unborn daughter
The number of times I thought ‘I’m done’
Then in the midst of a dark spell, a ray of hope, a light
A bit of sun
I am not a vampire so I step into it… I don’t burn
I allow that support to teach me, allow myself to learn
We all have at one point or another, danced with the devil
And tripped
But with your trampoline-like support, I bounce back
Yes
You show me, make me realize
I am more than well equipped.

Okay
I know… I know
I know that I hurt her… and she isn’t the first
She wants me and I want her
And this feels different from lust
But I know that I hurt her…
Broken heart reattached?
Can that happen? And if so… Can I stop being so detached?
I’m really not sure, I have tried that before
I don’t see myself getting over this bad habit in a hurry… not that fast
Sadly, not that fast... if I do it will be slow
It’s as a result of everything… The future, the present, the past
Still I know that I’ve hurt her… oh, believe me I know
She doesn’t deserve this, she cares… but she’s not the first girl I happen to have made tear before
But it’s kind of unfair too for me to be stuck in between…
“Are you going to play this macho *******? Do you want to be alone?”… And “Are you going to let me in?”
Sometimes you see, I hurt too… In fact one could say I’m pain prone
But I have my process, which usually involves being alone
It’s just what I’m about
It’s just how I was built
I’m not trying to shut her out, or to haunt her with guilt
I’m emotionally damaged; numb… a lot of nerve endings killed
Understand
It’s not pity I want; it’s in the past see
The milk has already been spilled.

I just need a minute
To express the sadness
I felt when I read about this crude act of madness
The innocence of a child... doesn't deserve this
This level of violence on a child? God will not forget... the memory, He preserves this
Whoever you are... whatever your reason
A fate worse than hell... that fiery prison
The shooter deserves this
A child
That is who you killed... a child
An innocent soul... not a Crip, not a Blood
You will never see the day when you can get rid of the stain left by a little one's blood
I just need a minute... to write this
May God give those affected the strength to fight this... injustice
And to the madman... it shall haunt you beyond the grave we know
Poetic justice
But nothing we write/say/do can undo this unnecessary act of violence
However, let's just take a minute to pay our respects
Let's have a moment of silence.

Substance that we are
Solid future of an ancient star
An end result of evolution
The lusts of men come to fruition
The care of parents intuition
All these things and more are we
But more than that specifically

We are what we become
From dust we came
And to dust shall we return
But in between those states
We are not shackled by the fates

We are free to be whatever we can dream
Whatever we can see  
We are free to grow beyond the things we were
Beyond what others thought that we could be

To become the best that is within us
To expand the edges of our understanding and our thought
To push ourselves and give it all we’ve got
All we have, every breath and bead of sweat
Every inch we get makes us better set
To get yet further still

Closer to the dreams we dream
Higher on the ladders that we place
Upon the mountains in our minds
The barriers we make that give us leave to climb
Challenges that like abrasives make us fine

The wind that burnishes the mountain
The waves that smooth the stone
So to must you
Stand upon the shores of time
And learn the lessons that you find

Like fine wine in time becomes sublime
So to will you
Add strength and subtlety to mind
Through choice and will become divine

When the sun is on your face
And the wind is at your back
While the day is starting fresh
And there is nothing that you lack
Take advantage of the day
Be bold in brave attack
Of every problem that you face
Even as they mount and stack
And if the sunlight goes away
And the skies turn dark and black
And the winds have turned upon you
And the lightning starts to crack
Stand your ground and simply say
The day is mine and I will not be dismayed

It makes no difference
Whether it is poet freak or Hello poetry
The sites are different
The loopholes are quite apparent
Human psyche is the same
There may be only a change in name

Good poets are every where respected
Fake poets are easily detected
Great poets are always adored
Eternal poets are highly revered

If writing poetry becomes a poet’s obsession
He tries his best to achieve perfection
The main aim of poetry is to please
Our tension it will soon release

The aim of a great poet is to instruct
But every poet’s intention is to construct
The platform for comraderie
Writing poetry is not a reverie

Poetry consoles, delights
Instructs, pleases, and relieves
Even our greatest psychic pain
Writing or reading poetry is a spiritual gain