Wisdom of a Negro “Poem”
Posted on December 24, 2020 Leave a Comment
A negro walks towards me like some Messiah
He took off sleeves of his shirt and present his bare naked arm
His dark skin and flesh and bones he offered
He then told me to present my bare naked arm in the picture we were making
He thus spoke
“Cut my skin off with a knife and see what color is of my blood and same as yours?
“We bleed red” he said again
We are one humane race no matter how we divide ourselves based on religion and culture
We are one humane Race he kept on repeating
Remy Ginger “Poem”
Posted on December 24, 2020 Leave a Comment
A bottle of Remy Martin and some ginger ale
That’s what I call a sophisticated night with style
Having some blunts to smoke and intelligence overflowed in conversations
Some dim music with some nostalgia and her lips
A decent mourning and claps of despair
Volume of Montesquieu on spirituality of laws on table lying open for me to take a dive
That is what I call intellectual exertion
A Student “Poem”
Posted on December 21, 2020 Leave a Comment
I am a student up to his neck in debt
I am a student ambitious up to his soul
I am a student called a weirdo up to university
I am a student heart Broken and pain stricken
I am a student listen O world I am a student
A dagger “Poem”
Posted on December 21, 2020 Leave a Comment
In the middle of night I am sitting
What should I do unable to sleep?
Pick up a dagger and ran on streets?
Or Read a bit more of cioran as we both suffered from Insomnia
I need activity not boredom
I can bear anything even a conscience of a Murderer but no idleness or boredom or sleeplessness
Last breath “Poem”
Posted on December 20, 2020 Leave a Comment
I have always paid attention to a dying person
I saw my own dog once taking its last breath
Last breath is the hardest thing to do
Last breath is like the last song which seizes thinking
Thinking makes us alive rest is mechanical like a machine
Last breath is a struggle to get life out of the confines of the body
The soul is liberated in our last breath
We all take our last breath uniquely
My last breath will be like a distant smile of a stranger
I will be happy that I am dying
What greater happiness is in life could be if not death?
I am always ready to die and I am always ready to take my last breath
She took my heart and my Money “Poem”
Posted on December 17, 2020 Leave a Comment
She came like the thunder warnings in Florida
She came like the sun setting near the shores of a beach
She took my heart and my money like a sailer captured by pirates
I gave her all I could but she wanted more
So I gave her my pains and sufferings in return
She gave me betrayal and hate
She gave me heartaches and poetry
She took all my innocence and gave me her cunningness and savagery
Thus I rebelled against the person I was before meeting her
To Denver “Poem”
Posted on December 16, 2020 Leave a Comment
Oh Denver you have my brother residing under the city’s sweet symphonies
Take care of him as I have no means to know how he is doing?
I hope to God my brother is alright and must have a reason to cut off entirely all forms of communications
I am talking to you Norris through this poem now
I don’t care how ridiculous it sounds to world
I only care about reaching out to you and tell you that I remember you
And whatever you are doing I say keep on doing my friend
I am going into free zone of non communication following your savage ways
To deconstruct everything and start a fresh
To create our self’s anew we must abandon our old friends and places and ideas
I just miss you so much that I wish you all my love in these words
You will triumph like sun after a storm
I will grab another bottle of Guinness and look at it as you are with me
A Thug, A philosopher and A King “Poem”
Posted on December 16, 2020 Leave a Comment
On the East side of Tampa a thug, a philosopher and a king sit together in the garage
The thug said, “I rhyme cause I have to survive and make people lazy and make money then they come to streets lazy and bored for something to inspire and escape”
That is how I make my living day and night hustling and hustling like these leaves in winter
The philosopher interrupted, “I philosophize because I have to survive. I care for individuality in constant danger by our loved ones”
The king then started laughing
The king declares, “ I am king because I am a king and feel the Israelite blood in me and I can’t help it and you the thug and the philosopher are wrong”
The darkness loomed all over their faces
And the world crushed them in the wake of light
The Feeling of Kansas “Poem”
Posted on December 13, 2020 Leave a Comment
In Kansas one feels loved in nights and stranger on day light
The air is too cold and the roads spread like a bedsheet that falls on ground every morning
The trees are somewhat without life and dead
Christmas trees hanging around downtown Missouri
Homemade food way too delicious to digest
Silence of night too deep to sleep and dream
Awake and arise O child the sun is high this Sunday morning
I don’t know about you but I can say I am alive
I shall say no more having a friend that understands too much of you is not quite delightful
It takes you back to the first vision, an eye that sees your soul and declares
Worry no more I see you for who you are and consider something the way you are
A friend of mine shall you be until the time comes for our breaths to last
I am no stranger but a friend of a friend speaks the cold serene air of Kansas
The Trouble with Airports “Poem”
Posted on December 12, 2020 Leave a Comment
What troublesome things are these airports
Massive complexes, huge floors, big roofs, countless toilets, benches and glass windows
Airplanes and Aeroplanes, jets, aircrafts, Boeing’s, puzzling Terminals, Air buses, flight stats on screens and departure gates, boarding gates with strange alphabetical orders
Boarding passes, passports, ids, mingling giant bacteria of passengers licking the floors here and there running, talking, walking and asking
“What is this Zoo?”
I hope I haven’t missed my flight?
Yes I did! And got the next one ready in five hours with two free food vouchers writing poems sitting at the Houston Airport.
Where am I going? Why am I going?
Holiday flights and airports are but mass hysteria of an old women to whom nor one can hear or listen but endure
Oh ask not the Trauma of Beijing Airport
Airports and Airports what a wasteful world
Hasich
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