I just came to be honest and tell the sacred truth.
I dealt myself a strong hand, they put the metal in it like Sabretooth.
They stocks and retirement go down because of announcements from on high.
Others put bump stocks into guns and fire down and as a result, men die.
But my stock cannot go down it must rise, because the devil is a lie.
They say have a dream and I say a dream can be a nightmare.
So I don’t have to take the battle to sleep when I could fight here.
I’m more determined than brilliant, more earth made than heaven sent.
Because I believe that I must make it in life so I cannot relent.
They ask if I am trying to make a recipe and I reply it’s a legacy.
Because I am running and the only leg I see, is the one ending in victory.
I’m always running like a person for office, ask for offerings for this coffers.
But once they count the votes it would be a surprise, because nothing can stop us.

I am the descendant
Of those who did not make it to the slave ship.
I always wondered.
What they felt as the ships slipped away.
They must have thought
That those people were the lower portion.
Let the men with strange tongues deal with them.
But the sons of the men with strange tongues would be back.
But instead of having sticks of fire.
They would put thunder to those sticks

These men demand our Golden Stool.
We tried to tell them.
Not even our kings are worthy to sit.
Because then they would sit in a grave
But they said they wanted
The stool, the stool.
These men had a throne
But they wanted a stool
We fought over our stool
But we lost.
Although we got to keep the stool
I wonder if we would have won that war
If we held onto the people who were taken away
By those ancestors with strange tongues.
We did not fight then
So we had to fight now


And I hope we can stop fighting always.
Because now our problems are not with men
With strange tongues
But they are with our kindred
With even stranger doctrines.
We did not even get to wake up dead
Because we were not in our beds
Those men survived being taken on ships.
Survived wars over stools
But could not get out of bed because of those countrymen
Who said they would defend against men with strange tongues.

How would we explain to the aliens
The ones who traveled light-years to reach us.
The ones who could be our fathers
That we got rid of football?
We were playing it all this time
But sorry, you can’t watch it
Because we thought it was too violent.

But more people die from your plant-flavored beverages?
Excuse me?
Isn’t alcohol made from plants or am I wrong
The aliens would say so smugly.
And we would be ashamed.
And silent.
Because they were right.
We would be more concerned with banning football
Than in banning the alcohol at tailgate parties.
But, of course
Since there is no more football
It would simply be a party.

But the violence, the violence.
Did you put rules inside this heelgame?
This toe spectacle?
It was called football and yes, we did have rules.
We equipped our players
As soldiers do to wars
Their arms, were arms.
The football itself was bullet-shaped.
They had guards as well.
Not so people could not get out
So that people could get in
The end zone.

And now we start to realize.
We didn’t ban football because of its violence
We banned it because it was convenient.
It could be our scapegoat we brought out to bash on.
It made some of us feel like better people.
And some of us hang out heads in shame.
And as the aliens left.
We saw a group of youth playing **** the Ball Carrier.
And hope that these youth would take that game.
And make it the next great American toe spectacle.

I wanted to know what happened to my ghastly fire
Because wherever there is smoke they have to give me fire.

I tried to come out with all my gunnery blazing
But those guns refused to go and see  fire.

It was like they had told me I could work
That same day they said my friend I had to be fire

I tried to speak to the people around me
When I had an idea it would not catch the  fire

These people would not even go through drizzle
While I told them I would go through hell fire.

So I had to remove Michael from the situation
They said I was uninspired, I said I fought fire with fire.

This poem is one of the better ones
After all this time
I start to think
Maybe this line isn’t what it seems
I just want to understand
I copied down my thoughts
Is this personification here
Where is this poem headed
Inspiration sure is hard to get.
I’m not easily impressed by writing
This is as good as it gets.
Oops I think I spilled some juice on my shirt.
I was lost in my own thoughts.
Where did that come from?
I could have been on the news segment Do you know where you child is
Wow I never thought of poetry like this
This is talking to me and I just want to listen.
I’m so excited that I have this new poem
Let me give some time to finish this poetry.
Ok I think the school construction has stopped.
Now what do I do with the rest of the day?

When I was in another land
As a boy of a decade in age.
In another decade
My family brought fish for me.
I even named them names
Based off of my favorite tv shows.
This one is Jason, this one is Arthur.
Every day when I would look at them
They would be swimming
Happy fish
And I was glad to see them

But one day I saw them
They were not swimming
They were not happy
And I was not happy
Because these fish looked still.
I wondered what was going on.
I asked my uncle what happened.
He told me that they were sleeping
And in order for them to be awakened
They would have to be flushed down the toilet
Because they would only wake up if they were seen by their mother
Who was in the sea
And the toilet was the quickest way to get to them
I told him that I would miss them
And that I was not a mother but I could be a father
But if that is how they would wake up.
Then I would flush them.

So I scooped them out of the fish tank
Very carefully.
I did not want the mom to be mad at me.
She would think I was mistreating her children
Then I laid them in the toilet
And flushed.
Goodbye Jason.
Goodbye Cyclops
Goodbye Storm
I hoped the mother was as happy to see them
As I was happy to have them.

I could not take a bullet for you.
Not because you were in front of the gun
Or because you are shooting
But you were the one who sold the gun
Knowing that this person did not like me.
You took bullets that this gun used.
And handed it to them.
Hell, while you were at it.
I bet you even put my address in their GPS.
So now I am standing in front of a gun.
Knowing that this might be the end.
The person pulls the trigger.
Click.
Thank you.

God is recording us, I'm sure it must be with an Iphone.
I'm wondering why some try to reach for thy throne.
We don’t just do an outcry, we cry groans.
But he came to give us an instant message, not just with text.
Even though the text is the Word of the Lamb, so I am blessed
Because this isn’t Facebook but my face is in God's book, I got next.
My selfie existed before time, I was wealthy in His mind.
Because the intelligence in me is healthy by design.
So under my status, God simply says I am delivered.
And to share it with the world, because he made me a giver.

The moon pulls on the oceans
Like a great love story.
The moon makes the ocean down to earth
Makes it more accessible to people.
I wonder when they first met
But they were destined to be together
The moon and ocean understand the gravity of their love
When this moon is full
It is stronger
Like the ocean took the moon to dinner
And the moon said Ill have all the entrees on the menu

The ocean could have selected a star in the sky
But the ocean said, I choose you
Even though you go through phases
I still love you.
Even though you have a dark side
I want to be with you
Man might have walked out on you
But I will always be there
Sometimes the moon embarrasses the ocean
Probably with remarks like
Remember the time you watched that romance movie with me?
The ocean wishes the moon would stop
So that he can show off in front of his boys
And make waves everywhere he goes
But the ocean knows the moon will always be there
And you can even see the moon in the ocean
Still pulling its favorite lover.

We spoke with our entangled manners about the star spangled banner.
Some people could understand us but others said we had mangled candor.
It was more than a flag, it symbolized all of the people who died to be free
But they were silent when we pointed out they don’t stand when its on T.V
I never understood how we could burn the flag but not go down on one knee.
They say to protest non-violently, but I guess some forms of outcry is off-limits I see.
Because I might not agree with what you say, but you still have a right to express.
It’s hard to remain silent when the problems in this country makes one restless.
Because those who have the hardest insight, are the ones who can call darkness night.
But we have to finish having the dream  before we can awake to the light.

Your spirit is the one I want to woo
You ask but what about my heart
I reply baby I want to be with all of you.
To stay with you and never depart.

So please give my this chance
And forgive me for this newfound charm
Because this is more than like it is romance.
I would love to have you in my arms and on my arm.

These arms are attached to love handles
The love came because of passion.
The fire inside is our bond and more than candles
Such love we have is never out of fashion.

It is sweet like the honey which comes from the bees
The birds can bring their own spice to complete.
I want to ask even if I have to get down on my knees
And you blushing say get back on my feet.

Your life added to mine would accentuate
The parts of living that are most dear.
My life has turned from second-best to first-rate.
When I asked for you love in this place here.

So please love me kind and tender.
I gave my all so I could ask this question.
I hope that nothing could come and hinder.
Because my time with you is a divine blessing.

Here I am on bended knee
hoping to make you mine;
starting with this chocolate rose,
will you be my Valentine?

I am the one they thought was dead but I got up instead.
I am the poetry inside of the book that you have not  read.
Look inside the cover of me, each word is like a dictionary.
The binding might be scary, but the mind is a visionary.
We are kings and queens, the thing of dreams.
We have powerful voices but instead of singing we scream.
Each line describes the vibes of my various lives.
Because I wrote this section so that you can strive.
I was freed once l left this pen, to exit this page gate.
Some say it was too early, I say I left this cage late.
I’m not exhausted, I just exhausted all my options.
Ice cream without the toppings, Batman without Robin.
So this ink is looking for a page to give it adoption.
To raise it from childhood, make this phrase so wildly good.
Because this poetry can do everything you thought it could.

My friend asked me
You really like her
Why don’t you go after her
I replied
She is everything I ever wanted
But if I act too fast, it will all be gone forever.
My past haunts
Because she could be my future
Or she could be my never.

Who is your God?
Is he the one saying Great is me
Because I have made money, bow down
To become worthy.
Because it seems that way for some people.
They are looking for a person to bestow the crown of Lord
Who cannot talk to them
Who cannot laugh at what they say
Or comfort their pain.
It is like the olden days
With graven images
Who could not speak on their behalf
Or tell them that their situation will be ok.
But we will praise our trust in Our Lord Most High.
Not in mankind.
Because we can speak to him
And see his face
He can comfort us
And Jesus does not become our God
He always is
Because He is the Great I Am.
So while mankind fails
With their scandals and shortcomings.
Jesus is always speaking for us to our God.

Then, the sigh of relief
So many expectations
This time of year is so stressful
I tell them who I am.
Like they always should have known me
Right on time.
I walk in like my presence was always necessary
The secretary says Hi.
A sigh of relief
It is expected I hand it in soon
The clock is ticking
I looked at the exam
What has he done here
I put down some corrections
I was so glad I can do this at home
I have so much emotion I start singing
The computer freezes
Why did he write this so awkwardly
Time is far gone
I want to finish soon
Why didn’t I pick a different passion
So much work
Good thing I think I’m good at multi-tasking.
Winter break is almost here.
If I had to be in the classroom right now I don’t know what I would do.
So many questions and all eyes on me
Let’s get this thing done.
Now all the papers are on the floor
Good thing the class is graded on a curve
Makes it a lot easier that way
I relax and say it is not so bad
See, now the hard part is done.

This land’s gallant slain
Gave their lives in all our wars.
We live as they died.

Soldiers from this land.
They came from America
To sacrifice all.

One of them would sing
Old Macdonald had a farm.
He memorized names.

No one could have guessed
That soldiers names could be set
To a melody.

They thought he was dumb.
So they let him walk around
As a  prisoner.

He came back and sang
Government names of war captured.
They said please slow down.

He said I can't stop.
The names I studied with songs
I cannot forget.

These men were rescued
To Old Macdonald had a farm.
Now he has men too.

A song I learned when I was a youth
Helped to tell a very potent truth.
I never heard of this way before
That a song would release prisoners of war.

My giving you a poem.
Is like a car dealership giving the choicest vehicle.
Just hand the keys and say drive.
Just give the paper and say enjoy.
I could have gotten it framed.
But poetry is meant to be shared, not confined.
It was like I as a soldier
Had come home from a tour.
From a distant land
But this tour was closer to performance.
Out on the road in buses and hotels.
Reciting for the masses
Because you were not the first to read it, you know.
But I long to see how you think of it.
Do you like this poem?
Or is it meh?
I dread the thought
Of my poem causing so much indifference
That you cannot say words.
I want to cause the same sensation
Of an astronaut coming down to earth.
Because I am down to earth too
Just read my poetry.
And you will see such a marvel
They would have to start over ranking the Wonders of the World.

A babe's cry is heard
To the country club elite
They named him George Bush.

He told his mother.
I’m off my game today.
His mom laughed at him.

She said please stop it.
You just need to be better.
You don’t have a game.

He was the elite.
Went to boarding school and Yale.
Then World War 2 came.

Bush went to go serve.
He enlisted in the Navy.
His plane was shot down.

Swam until rescue.
He was saved by  submarine
For another day.

He came back to Yale.
Loved baseball and sports.
Then went to Texas.

He lost his daughter.
Then  raised a big family
People said to run.

He worked his way up.
To be second to Reagan.
Then his chance came too.

He became president.
Bush helped to end the Cold War.
Then recession came.

Bush turned to a friend
He was sad in his diary.
Hopeful for this land.

He was a great man.
Bush aided this land so much.
As the country’s best.

They told me
Push the envelope, push the envelope.
I said I had to put my stamp on it.
So when I did push it.
I can follow it to the letter.
And tell people my address
I just hope people can read my handwriting
Because this handwriting is not on a wall.
That belongs to home or facebook.
Facebook has a home page
Home I could put a book in my face and turn the page.
But it tells you where I came from
And tells me where you are going.
So I don't need to sign it
That is what the stamp is for.

My enemies are perished.
At least that is what I like to tell myself.
I look around
And where I am at I see no one there.
Just images I revere.
Because my idols sit on the altar.
I prefer the term role models.
But the righteous pointing fingers say it is an idol.
I protest that I put them there myself.
This is the idol of every ism that man lifted up holy hands to worship.
So that must mean my enemies are gone forever?
They must be gone, forever.
Otherwise there is no ism I was calling on before that can save me.
Because if they are not hiding, that means I should be.
I would need more than an ism.
I would need more than an idol on an altar.
I would need HIM.
I should call on the name of Jesus Christ.
But in reverence, not as an expletive.
So that I would not need an idol.
And I can sit in the presence of my enemies.

You don’t want to finish the battle?
Someone asked me as I took off my helmet
I sighed
I just want to go home
Bury my weapons
And forget that there was ever a war.
Because they do not have a parade
For the people who do not conquer
I felt like we won
Because we survived.
But parades are not just for the living
But for the triumphant.
I don’t think I deserve a parade for a fight I had to be in.
And one that took away more than my innocence.
It went deep down to strip away my naivete
And in doing so also tore apart some of the great in my spirit.
Until it reached the darkness inside of me.
But when I am home
Maybe I can build a new essence.
If I can find the strength and remembrance.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
Someday.

I woke up some days past.
I felt different
I reached back with my arm
And I felt something bony and feathery
Or rather, two things bony and feathery
I got up in a hurry.
I thought I had become an angel.
Someone must have sung I need an angel
And God said I will give you Michael.
I started to fly
At first it was slow and wobbly
But I started to soar.
I just wished there was a Bat signal
Like a Mike signal or something.

I thought I saw something
Or rather a crime.
I said its time for me to shine
Hope these wings can stop bullets
Because they would have to today.
I descended rapidly.
I was shocked I didn’t catch on fire or that my wings did not break.
I went to the man with the gun and said stop
He asked who sent you and I said I was sent from above
And I am all that you fear
I tackled him to the ground.
I heard Cut by a very angry person and I saw a director
He said who the hell do you think you are?
This is the new Dragon-Man vs Shark-Devil movie
I said My bad and flew away.
I left the crime fighting to the professionals.

I looked like the angel who fought the devil, so I was called Michael
But my signs were dire and going down, even though they were vital.
But all my family prayed for me on their knees with hands on their Bible.
They called for a Savior even when I was in the incubator.
Attached to tubes and machines, breathing like Darth Vader.
Suddenly a hand stirred, and my eyes twitched as I could understand words.
I must have heard the voice of the Lord unslurred as his commands were heard.
I was brought home from the hospital, with God all things are possible.
Because of the faith we placed in him, even early birth was not an obstacle.
God decreed that the world needed a soldier, I would be given at a general winter date.
And because I would live, I would not suffer the death of a sinner’s fate.

Hershey’s couldn’t create better dark chocolate than we were.
Even though we announced to the world we came out premature.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, God put out a double album.
Because he knew that he would need a second Martin and Malcolm.
I had to spend many moons in a hospital
A happy ending to my story seemed impossible.
I was descended from ancestors who fought on battlefields.
But it was ordained from above that this one should be healed.
So I came home from the hospital, fully recovered and alive.
It was like a horror movie in the beginning, but this brother survived.

I wanted to be invited
To be given the chance to RSVP
So I could politely decline.
By invitation.
I am a gentleman, after all.
Say that I was pre-occupied that day.
There will be no plus one.
But thank you for the invitation.
That you put a lot of thought into
Putting me ahead of someone who could have made it.

Pick out the suit I would not wear.
Choose shoes that would not be for that day.
Because the distance is pretty great.
And my work has work of its own.
The secretaries have secretaries
It is so busy.
All of the hotels are booked.
Because of the concert that was yesterday.
They are staying for the tailgate for football.
Football’s not in season?
I did not mean that football.
I meant soccer.
Minor-league soccer.

You did not give me a chance to have a good excuse over the phone.
Maybe, just maybe you knew.
The types of excuses I would have.
And your day was more important than excuses
It required effort.
So I guess that somebody can make it after all.

There is no other crown in this throne
No attack of the clones
Because I stand back here alone.
This poetry is a stepping stone.
One rock in the building
There is no block in the ceiling
No clock if you awaiting healing
Because a king without jewels for his head.
Is nothing but a tool who is dead.
And to be a thing who is ruler over the unsaid.

It must feel like the loneliest being yet.
But I can handle life without breaking a sweat.
A vet, whose peeves are just pet.
I am all set to believe life without regrets.
I just would not want to get that in a tattoo.
You say bless you when I speak at you.
Excuse me because I might need a napkin.
Because this poetry is so ill that I don't know what happened.

You cannot have the throne without a lineage of royals
Just like you can’t have water over the bridge to toil.
It would be leaving the best in the fridge to spoil
People still try to get under this to rant and rave and troll.
But they don’t know that I’m one of the bravest soul
I may be on the ropes but its just suspension.
So when I get off there is no more tension.
And all these rumors have no foundation so there is no mention.
I take the crown and I don’t know where to put it.
Because the crown is too small and doesn’t fit.

It’s all word for the best, they refused to leave so I stirred the nest.
Put branches with the pointy side up, I preferred no rest.
The people could not sit down, because of the discomfort.
It was missing hurt, so I took them up on eagle wings.
They were enjoying the ride as a new people’s spring.
I went to the top, and I did what some would call an illegal thing.
Suddenly I turned, and to their horror they started falling.
I could hear their calling, and it was appalling but they had to start hauling.
This is not sink or swim, because  I think to win, so I will stand by.
We’re gonna die! Flap and try, When you want to rise you will, command I.
I could see them coming up to reach me, I am glad I did not sound preachy.
Because do as I do, not just as I say, and if you follow me I can teach thee.
Isn’t poetry much the same way, with the nest and  flight.
Every time I write a new poem I am unsure if it is right.
That’s when my nest has to push me to where it is bright.
An eagle that never learns to fly, will be food for predators.
And what would the world be, without me pursued by metaphors.

You continue life by breathing in oxygen, I do it via spitting verbs.
My white blood cells make up the paper of my written words.
The pen is the umbilical cord that feeds the paper with sustenance.
I never stutter since these words are alive because of my utterance.
So when it is ready to deliver, I am always standing ready
But instead of leaving you, these verses stay where your head be.
I go with the pads like a football player, but its not a game.
Poetry called me from a young age, and I never forgot its name.
Its like when lighting strikes and turns someone into the fighting type.
Because I try to make sure my lines more than live up to the hype.
These words march together, and each words makes all better.
Because even when I breath my last this poetry will live forever.

I don’t need a runway
To take off and be fly
Like Clark Kent
I just look for space and go higher.
And the forces of the earth cannot keep me down.
I get my energy from above.
Because I walk with something on my chest
Some people see it as an S.
The symbol that is always there
Others see it as hope
You believe what you believe
People identity me by what is on my chest
Because they think it makes me superman
When in fact it reminds me what I fight for.
And why I wake up every morning.

She said I don’t know what to do
I don’t think I can make it.
Maybe I should just give up
I told her
On this day is the beginning of the end.
We who inhabit this consecrated place at the rising of the sun
Are a remnant, a brave remnant, for a fate we never chose
Although we are chosen
So we can enter a profession to always serve.

We remnant, this only remnant, we must persevere
Because we who go to the throne-room of seats for this exam
Seating King Arthur never beheld by rounded tables in all his days of chivalry
Shall all be brethren, whose collective tears shall make triumphant waters.
One day we dare to dream to sign our names
With new tears in our eyes
With new smiles on our lips
That the passage of time and test could not scrape off.
The joy in all is everlasting
If we cannot speak others will utter pronouncements on our behalf
And esquire is now our last name
Because strength was our first prerogative

Those who whispered forsaken words behind our faces
Will now not look us in our eye
Because then they will see themselves.
And consider themselves lacking.
Because what they said we could not do.
Happened on this day of our reckoning
Admittance day

When we wake again
Our profession will deem us welcomed.
On this last requirement. an action so lowly as a signature
Grasped by fingers shaky but not shaken.
That scribble is blessed
Because we would have toiled this examination season.
And at the end we cannot  be considered wanting
But wanted.
She wiped a tear from her eye and said, Thanks I needed to hear that.
Then we got to work.

I said I am through
This is so painful for me to say
I am sorry for doing this
All the missed calls and texts
I saw your attitude and it shocked me.
You said that I had changed, I said you didn’t know me.
We would yell in our conversations, but no one would win.
You was acting suspicious, and you were not that same person I met.
I thought that you were not where you said you would be
I worried you would get more comfort in the arms of someone else
As a form of revenge
But it was not me
I thought that I was going insane
I blamed you
Because I could not look at the person in the mirror.
The truth has escaped this situation
You know what you did
What is this paper
A separation agreement.

I’m self-employed and I’m not a fan of my boss.
My employee seems to always be at a loss.
When it comes time to pay he wants a check.
But as for me all I want is his honest respect.
He wants to work overtime but there’s no extra pay.
But I as a boss has to come in every single day.
My employee wishes I was not always over his shoulder.
I remember when he wanted one day to be a soldier.
Sick days is on my employee, but I cant afford it.
Because we have to think of what’s more important.
Keep writing and submitting articles to different blogs.
Because when I’m self-employed the boss is never wrong.

When I fall Jesus walks, so one of us isn’t lame, because he carries my shame.
The pain that I would obtain, Jesus went through the flames because I know his name.
And he did it without limping or whimpering, because sin was just the symptom.
Death was the disease that was decreed I must die from without living.
But Jesus is the Great Physician, and said if I can take out man’s side I can take out pride.
My ancestors tried to hide out of this pride, they lied and when God pronounced judgment, they cried.
No matter what, the deceitful cannot take my God from me, I got his signature on my bib.
Birthed from the struggled relations between the dirt and a broken rib, it was the Word not just an ad-lib.
The same place he took Adam’s rib out, he took a spear in his ribcage.
To bear all the insidious effects of God’s not-so-glib rage.
Jesus went from walking to flying, and when he came up, he will come through.
So I get up by his mercy, and by his stripes we are healed so I could speak to you.

They said I would be thrown to history’s dustbin.
I said I could not hear you because I’m busy hustling.
I would rather be thrown to the lions, at least I could lead a pride.
Because I know what is inside, and I don't have to hide.
Who said to give up lied, tried to make sure my hands were tied.
The  lion's strength is in pain, the gazelle he couldn't catch again.
It must have been insane but he managed to overcome their frame.
Who do I think I am to believe I can make it.
Because what is in me is sacred, and nothing can break it.
I cannot give in as long as I stand in the land of the living.
Because I have to have my children see me on television.
Forget my name in lights, even at night my name will be bright.
Because my legacy will be the fireworks that no one can spite.
What is in me is more than fire, because it cannot be consume.
They say be still and I tell them I did enough of that in the womb.
It is called trash can, and if it can that is inspiration to me as a man.
Even trash must be collected,  I'll  build a heritage that's everlasting.

You may not see my strength
Think that there is no power in me
But just look at me in adversity
And strength is all that you will find in me
My power will be what you cannot stop talking about
After adversity is no more.

People who previously had underestimated you.
Said.
Sorry I can’t give my email
Because I cannot see how you can help me
Or add value to my life
Will now want to talk to you like family
Will say to people
In a boasting tone.
Getting uncomfortably close
I knew him from the beginning
I was shooting shots with him
Studying with him
In fact I made him!

Excuse me?
You were the type of person
Who did not want to be in my study group
Because you thought I would bring down your grade.
Your social media was off-limits
And there was a long line of unanswered texts!
Excuse me, but you did not make me.
You were not a factor
Because by the way you revealed yourself.
You could not even make you
Because otherwise why are you around like we friends
When we don’t even have enough hate to be enemies.
Whatever we have does not possess a name
But I will be just fine
Now let me be
Like you did in the past
So I can go take to this famous person
Who wants to speak to me and not to you.

I look at my eyes and they have bags.
They are ready to travel on tour
My eye is also puffy
Like Sean Combs is its real name.
My eye is big.
Like Chris Wallace was when he was alive.
Its starting to be pink
And wanting to collaborate with Eminem.
That must be why I had to see the doctor
I said that I need a doctor
Like Dr. Dre.
I said I'm not afraid because that's the way I am

My sanctuary of metal was encased
In a fiery hell too fierce to describe.
We were hit by fireballs from above.
But I was cut out of my warrior’s armor,
Saved from the flames of an everlasting Gehenna.
By the same State that sent me off to war.

You was supposed to be by my side, and the tattoo in my right chest.
Because I knew I was meant to be forever beside your likeness.
But as the artist held it high, I said to hold off the needle
This type of names was not meant to be engraved on me who were certain people.
How could I make something permanent, when the only thing that stayed was pain.
And I would go through more discomfort putting her name for no gain.
So save that needle for someone who needs it, I am not a ******.
And hold off that needle for a patient, my right chest isn’t hungry.
You can put her name on with a needle, but you need to take it off with lasers.
Between the cost of putting it on and taking it off, it is not worth the labor.

I am David
I saw my father, up in the distance.
He was coming with my older brothers and an old man.
The old man looked familiar
Although I did not know who he was.
I thought all of this was very strange.
Normally my father did not come to the fields.
One of my older brothers did.
And sometimes they would taunt me.
Saying, David you are just a shepherd.
Go take your slingand protect the lambs
That you would never eat come feast time.
The words stung me.
But I never cried.
I would not, could not, ever let them see tears in my eyes.
Even though there were wounds that mocked me every day.

The old man approached me.
I saw a sword on him
It was covered in blood.
I did not ask why he had a sword.
He must have been a mighty man in his youth.
Then he told me, I am Samuel
Samuel, the prophet of the nation.
Samuel, the seer to the king.
Samuel, the man who anointed Saul.
The king and father of Jonathan.
When I was out in the fields.
I would pretend to be Jonathan’s armor-bearer.
Although when I brought up the topic excited with Eliab.
He sneered, Armor-bearers don’t have slings.
And they have armor.
You have no armor, so don’t call yourself that.
That did not stop me.

When a bear came to take a lamb.
I rose up.
Angry.
It was bad enough I had to be out here
Alone.
Watching sheep when no one cared for me.
But this bear cannot take a lamb
Because then I would be the disgrace of the family.
I took my sling
And found a stone.
It was smooth, good for flight.
And the bear charged.
Amazing enough, I felt no fear.
I said, A sling for the Lord and David.
I hit the bear.
The bear kept on coming.
I readied my staff, prepared to do the worse.
But the bear collapsed and died not too far from me, about a body’s length away.
I turned and walked away.
Knowing that if I told my brothers, they would not believe me.
They would mock, How can we know your word is true
When none of the lambs were touched.
So I kept quiet.
So I keep silent.

My father thought I would be a good musician.
He said, Eliab will lead our family in war
While David plays the music of our people.
He got a lyre from the village.
And I began to play.
My hands connected with the lyre’s heart.
And soon I began to sing.
I thought that it was good, so I began to write it down.
Songs to my Lord.
Songs about protection from bears.
And Songs about one day being noticed for who I am.
And not the youngest of my family.

Samuel told me to kneel.
Could it be?
I dare not hope to think.
After all a servant told me there was a ritual feast at home.
A feast that I was not invited.
Because Eliab yelled at the servant, Then who would guard the lambs!
We need the servants to serve us and Prophet.
I knelt down on the hard surface.
I then felt, oil.
I had never felt oil on my head before.
A little got into my eyes and I blinked fast.
Then the oil trickled down my lips and onto my garment.
Prophet then proclaimed Long live the King.
King?
I saw Eliab scowling with rage.
But I smiled, satisfied.
I would be the king after Jonathan.

I want to go to places
Where words fear to go.
And pictures cannot be drawn
Our mouths are not enough
So we speak with our eyes.
But we cannot keep a distance
From people who want to see us
Because their eyes speak too.
And they say, come here, come here.
No need for all that fear.
Because you are in a safe place
That good dreams inhabit.
We were given our sight
So that we could know each other
Better.
So when you are ready.
Be with me, with me.
So that our eyes can have a conversation.
Maybe we'll laugh
Maybe our eyes will tear up
But at least we talked.
Because our eyes were open

A child was born
In May Irish Bred.
He was the second.

He became so sick.
His father vowed to give wealth
To the church coffers.

He impressed nurses
With his young sense of humor.
They loved this young boy.

But the oldest son.
This father had dreams of him
To be President.

But these dreams were dashed.
There’s a tragic accident
His plane just blew up.

The father turns to John
Says that you are next in line.
His father wants him.

He has gifts of gab.
People seem to really like him,
He has charisma.

He ran for office.
Never lost an election.
Became president.

Through the ups and downs.
He was always engaging
He had his great wit.

His father’s dream realized.
This boy became president.
He was the youngest.

Through crisis and toil.
He spoke to this great nation.
Told them to ask not.

He spoke without notes.
Told them that Martin had dreams.
People need freedom.

Everything looked good.
Folks loved his ability.
Then it became time.

Until November
He campaigned down in Texas.
Winning was urgent.

On that fateful day.
He was riding with the top down.
Someone aimed a shot.

He was hit badly.
They took him to the doctors.
They pronounced him dead.

An eternal flame.
Presides over his resting place.
Tells us he was great.

John F Kennedy
We will still remember him.
As a great leader.

because he misses the black and white
and the other squinting
But now the husband watches tv with one eye closed
this is the new style of television.
as the children were laughing
the wife would say
Honey dearest
Is there something wrong with my eyes?
it’s people-colored.
Its not black and white
honey something is wrong with the television!
and giving a scream
and turning on the television
the husband coming home from work
I could picture the day
the color television was modern technology.
when to them
of modern technology
I wondered what they would make
Some of them were ancestors.
They were, different.
and realized they were not men.
until I read about them
of a crazy old man
I thought it was just a saying
those words my professor said.
I remembered
Those were the days when men were men

We made a dwelling and then it dwelled within us.
In forms of dreams, so true inside our souls.
This place is now the land of the living.
With thoughts for roses, that made that land beautiful.
We gave to that land our best, but our best is yet to come.
These dreams became a deed, this deed became real.
This deed is now no longer those earthly dreams.
It moved up when we did, became heaven to us.
When we look up and smile, stars smile back with a twinkle.

I cannot sleep on my wings
But I also cannot lay on my crown.
So what is precious about me
I should make sacred.
So I guess I will dream sitting on the throne.
But my wings don’t fit
And I cannot keep my eyes closed
Because this throne is not built for the angelic
But for those who intend to stay.
And I have to steal flight, away
Because the sky wonders when I will be back