Poetic
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Just a Man
You may be just a man, but when you're before me
Your skin is marbled, your eyes are broken and jeweled
At times I'm just drunk
On myself
And i see you clamouring
Within yourself'
Struggling to accept
My mischievous celeste.
Do I prick your vein?
Do I destroy your game?
The sun comes down through the dark clouds
The lights go out on a melancoly hill
The dark comes when the light is out of bounds
The light decays in my hands like a disolving pill
Light doesn't last a day or two
To have readers, one must have been and always be a reader.
To have readers, one must have been and always be a reader.
Weauthors are like aMagicians. You see only what we put on the page in frontof you, absorbed in that single
There are no big memories,
Because I can't exist in the small.
Im tired of walking in between the two,
Trying not to fall,
I can walk a million miles in an inch,
Because my world is so small,
Dear Darkness,
We meet again in this tragic abyss. It feels just like my lost lovers kiss.
Once again, the air grows hauntingly thin. Take your pride in some fools grin.
I want to be part of something better,
sail skies to unknown paradise
while finding love in bones
I call my own.
I’ve been contemplating for the past three days,Words to describe my precise emotions,And I become embarrassed by myself,For not even being able to, in such a s
[ Me writing a letter to death]
October 10th.. Sending this letter from DeVonte, to.... to..,
Im going to start off this letter saying i dont like you, I fear of you but I will fight you,
Poetry is a powerul drug
you take a free sample
you fall in love and get addicted
to the fragrance of the scented similes
and the taste of the flavorous hyperboles
Love a sight
I'm still thinking about school......
You don't know the meaning of the colors you wear.
You put them on to follow, so that everyone stares.
You emit no emotion towards that color.
No thought of it even crosses your mind.
It is not to hide, or flourish.
well i'm poetic by nature
a bard of sorts
words play at my heartstrings
produceing chords
i find serenity in solitude
solace in society
happiness in meaning
meaningfulness in piety
I make violence look good.
I wonder who's more evil.
Shall I say I'm the queen of death?
My heart has barb wire around it.
Your life was just a blank canvas until I made art out of it.
Ten minutes is ticking.
Can't find the time losing such minutes.
Close to such hours I wait patiently, for my moment to shine.
I ask myself when will that be?
I need a scholarship.
"Tell me about yourself," they say.
Heck, I don't even know that.
"Be authentic," they say.
Heck, I don't even know that.
"Be under 25," they say.
Look at me
What do you see?
Young, black, short, mean
Somewhere in between?
I look in the mirror
You know what I see?
A queen
Staring back at me
Not the tallest
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how much more grateful can i be for all the things you’ve done for me? the times that seemed like i drove you crazy with all of my problems, but i was too lazy to try to solve them on my own two feet
sit up, good posture, keep the focus, we’ve done this quite a thousand times. not to complain, we love the routine: sweetest melodies, notes that chime. take a deep breath, poise and position,
with such a good memory, i can’t remember momentarily, that is, your beautiful eye color. it happened so suddenly, that’s what everyone says. especially me, heartbroken and searching, i guess.
i may never know your trend of thought, i may never know why it was you i sought, forget the buzzing bee inside my head, what i ought. why do things so bad feel so good? i guess i’d better handle what i should;
11/26/08 this new environment could use improvement. two-faced like the villain, who am i kiddin’? i got my clique, my homeboys and friends. family is backbone no matter how i pretend.
the radiant and heartwarmingpalette of the sun’s colorsas i’ve seen all the passing secondsof night turn to light. so is it rightthat i witness the darkness?dawn manifests in many ways,
consider the sponge: soaking it all up, but only partly whole- blown in parts. the art of learning seems expedient, yet draining. gaining general, but filtering
if you’re gonna be a tool,then you’d ought to be useful.don’t screw me in anoverwhelming mannerwhile undermining the gemsstemming deep in the ground
shades for the bright future…
black attireto absorb the forecasted radiancewith just a little whiteto reflect the dissonance,(blinding) overcast that doesn’t last.
i’m guessing coming out for carpentry lessonswould work if you saw results.the shavings as proof which you’re cravingare all between the cracks of your framework,just check your footwear
With wings of ash darkness hides me
Shadows glisten on my feathers
Burroughs, dusk, and no where near dawn
Creatures scrambling to find shelter fromthose that wait and watch for the next victim
Did you ever wish you can turn back time
To that one scene in your life.
When listening to your head just didn’t seem right?
another wave of nostalgia that i’m drowning under,
which makes me wonder
if i ever grew up outside of height,
because i might
be stuck in the same situation;
jammed seatbelt.
circle of two hands
and one hastier than the rest;
in whatever shape or form
it always conforms
back to midnight from noon
and it’s too soon
to determine the monsoons
kicking dust as i move ahead, instead
of getting down and dirty. i could, but
i’m more of an insider as you can see
these sounds; the synergy
of cooperation and contemplation
buried in metaphors,
the allegory of a door
representing the figurative
pathway to the highways
and byways of my brain-
the complexity. as it rains,
i'm brainstorming some more
Poeticinsecuritieshauntingunbrokendreams in placesdeep beneaththe wavesof electrolytespulsingthrougheach brandnew idea.
(poems go here)Write, sometimes is the only right thing to do
From not being understood, to being stood up from all those in your personal hood
From confused feelings, to living life confused
What would be different,
If what I chose was an
Altercation
Revelation
Procession?
Rather it’d be simple.
Have you ever been what I been through?
Lied to by your loved one,
Stabbed your chest,
And people fear for your life soon,
You say what's the pressure in being me?
Im about to get to writing
Tired of the wars and the fighting
I’m ready to make a change
Underage, strike like some lightening
Tired of dividing
They just wanna conquor
More interested in Jersey Shore
This morning I died.
Earth abruptly ceased, carrying me to my end.
Solace of the pomegranate
Scented air captured me completely.
The dime-sized wound trickled
A crimson essence so pure it must be heaven.
i wanna live out this life in the nitty gritty. real, live, life. full of blood and sweat and dirt and clean, fresh air, and mud and grass. cause i want to break out of this old skin and fly with the seagulls in parking lots.
