“I” without America “Poem”

I without America is incomplete

Erase America from world map My existence will vanish

I will be ceased to exist once and for all

What is America? Who is America?

It is “I” singing million souls

It is “I” without a soul and body

It is “I” without diversity

It is the “I” without blacks

It is the “I” without Hispanics

It is the “I” without whites and Indians

It is the “I” without immigrants

It is the “I” without refuges

It is the “I” without humanity

It is the “I without the world

It is “I” of being and nothingness

It is the “I” black in brown skin in black neighborhood

It Is the “I” a black, the real strength and future of America

This innocent “I” is incomplete without America

To Norris “Poem”

To Norris I say, my shadow and my brother

Hear this! first When I Saw you! You were like the stranger from CAMUS novel

Another influencing chapter came in my life that changed something

To all Those nights we spent hanging out on streets late at night philosophizing, drinking, nagging and learning

How can I Repay you?

Is it by Following up our new learned ways in place of the old ones

Or Is it by cursing each other in realm of some lost nostalgia

We understand not therefore we better distance our aspirations and never talk

For in silence we understand not but understood ourselves

Like the empty sound of a wind with force but muted

Like the earth and moon face to face but far away to listen and to vex and to answer and to argue, to motivate, to inspire and to win

Banks of River Jhelum “Poem”

On the banks of river Jhelum I dreamed greatness

I visioned defeat of Alexander the Great on banks of River Jhelum

I read books after books on the banks of River Jhelum

I took long runs on the banks of River Jhelum

I took a swim in River Jhelum

On the banks of River Jhelum I planned my journey

On the banks of River Jhelum I wrote my first poem

Who is Iqbal “Poem”

Who is Iqbal asks a Negro?

How can I answer?

Who was Iqbal? I don’t know either

I told him he was an Indian poet that’s all

“Thy abode is not on the dome of a palace”

“You are falcon and should live on rocks of the mountains”

These two lines was all I could say in response and left

I came home disappointed unable to answer who was Iqbal

On streets “Poem”

Tonight I walk on the streets alone

Have you ever took a walk on the streets alone?

It feels so empty and meaningless

Cars pass me by

Many souls wander on streets

It’s dark with horror stricken loneliness on the streets

Stars shines far away in the sky

Planes fly up far away in the sky

How does it feels like when you have nowhere to go?

Everybody must have somewhere to go?

To whom those souls on the streets belongs?

To all the wandering souls on the streets you are like Moses without destiny

To all the homeless on streets you are the face of humanity forsakened

You all are children of Adam forbidden from homes on streets

Exiled “Poem”

Plato exiled poets long time ago from his republic

Where are the poets now? I search in vain

Poets are exiled from reality, friends and foe and from the world

Poets express what they feel and see only without doubts

I saw a young man searching for a utopia today

I saw a lover condemned to death

I saw Odysseus lost in foreign lands

I saw a young man alone on the heights of despair

I saw a beautiful young girl laughing

I saw a homeless begging for another drink

I saw a man preaching God not humanity

I saw workers laboring from morning to dawn

I saw birds singing and dancing

I saw a revolutionary cat domesticated without consent

I saw an old man eating Cuban sandwich hiding from his past

I saw men exiled from their loved ones

I saw the freed man from prisons eating Shabang in corner stores

I saw devil and the God playing in our hearts

I saw all and nothing then exiled myself from the world

In writing these words I exiled the modern men into a poem

Exiled all are modern men from their own lives

Mr. Nobody “Poem”

How does it feels like when you are nobody?

What it feels like having nobody to talk to?

When you can’t take it anymore

But you ought to exist and bear the burden of existence

What should one live for then?

When one has nothing but uncountable heartaches in future

A nobody can be somebody in the eyes of others

But to oneself one only knows pains and sorrows to all extent

Jesus alone knew what it feels like being crucified

That he has to endure all the suffering all alone

In greatest pains and sufferings and death one is always alone

This void and this emptiness can never be filled

Life is but a dark comedy at its best

A nobody is a person in loneliness

Somebody please throw a party

Let this nobody be something for a moment

On Manliness “Poem”

What is a man? Philosophers asked

Man is something that must be surpass said Nietzsche

Man is the will to power said Schopenhauer

Man is the means to propagation of human species said Charles Darwin

Man is the image of god said the Bible

What is God now?

The will which is a thing in itself

A will which creates and manifests all life and it’s form

Man seeks to create the impossible

Manliness ccomes from manhood

Manliness is satisfying a women

Manliness is masculine god like figure after all man is a creater

Was Buddha a man or something more than a man?

Who was Zarathustra?

Who are these modern men?

If not the demi gods

Booze “Poem”

Al little booze and music do no harm

A little poem and mere words waste no time

A little hangover do no good

A little laugh can hurt no body

A little tear ease the soul no more

A little drunkness is not that bad

A little walk takes you nowhere

A little thought comes no sooner

A little just a little everydayness repeats no more

A little smile catches no hearts these days

A little confidence leads nowhere

But a little booze ceases existence

A little booze freezes the world for a second

For a second the body dances in the air

A little booze beats my heart no longer

A booze just a little booze some nights awakens the dead souls

Latinos “Poem”

One must speak Spanish in Tampa Florida

One must imitate the way Latinos behave

So artistic and so free are Latinos

Corona and Modelo they only drink

Latino women are real women

Have you ever seen a Latin girl walking?

Every guitarist follow their rhythm

Cuande? She asked when? I say right now

She smiled and said “Que Va!” I grab the book and try to learn a bit of Spanish to impress her

I learn a few words from a Mexican friend

I told him tell me something that I say to her!

They laughed and say you must be born in Mexico to have her

I protested I’m a get her number and they laughed more

Cancion del mariachi O beauty of Latin world give me your smile and take my life in return

I danced to the movement of her lips in air

I almost died seeing her walking by me like some magical being

I closed my eyes and try to forget her

That is how I end up tonight in Spanish class to learn the language

Paper Life Painting

Visual works of Wayne Wolfson

The Fair Left

Politics of Writing

A Prolific Potpourri...

The Artistic Endeavors & General Musings of Matt Snyder


An Empyrean Cycle


Inspirational Quotes To Motivate Your Life

Article Writing and Marketing

plr articles and related news

Paper Life Painting

Visual works of Wayne Wolfson

The Fair Left

Politics of Writing

A Prolific Potpourri...

The Artistic Endeavors & General Musings of Matt Snyder


An Empyrean Cycle


Inspirational Quotes To Motivate Your Life

Article Writing and Marketing

plr articles and related news

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