Rain of Passion I am no longer in your arms Bringing about the new start Racing time with a frozen heart Hoping rains of passion will fall To take my thought to breathe And to drown me and my all Come melt the ice flowing through my veins The shallowness will not expose me Show me now or the fire inside will reign My body is weakening The years have not been kind to me It's time to let my dreams free I haven't been kind to myself
I'd rather have teenagers smoking Herb with their friends then playing video games, YouTubing, or texting all alone. I'd rather have teenagers smokin' Weed and walking in the woods than sit hours in class learning biology. I'd rather have teenagers consuming Ganja and having fun then be drown in the bottle or chained by conformity. I'd rather my children grow up in a world that gives us the freedom to choose - than to have no choice at all...
Waiting for Arby's By Dr. Philo S. Raptor Dear Arby's Come to Thee So we could be oh so free of these weary world of hunger pangs I'd eat you up would do our thang Oh how I'd love you French Dips sub I'd dip you in and grub and grub You'd fill me oh so full of love Dear Sandwich come to thee!
So, baby I know I'm going to be drunk soon I know say ‘sorry' too much But I really am sorry That the world hurt you, that our lives are our own monsters and tyrants. I'm sorry I cry when I see you hurting and hurt you worse I'm sorry you have to be in this mess called April-May with me. I'm sorry sometimes I have too many feelings for this small, girly vessel of mine and that they explode out when I can no longer quiet my heart. I'm sorry you fell in love with a messed up woman, looking for a hand to hold when you feel alone and no one will listen to your crying, late at night. I'm sorry we had such a good time last night and today I just fell apart. There is so much grief and tension in this house, so unnecessary. I am not sorry for loving you to pieces, and I will always love you until we fade back into the stardust. I love you for all of eternity, I love you to the moon and back home to earth. I love the dirt on your skin. I love the blood flowing through your veins. I love the sounds of your voice breaking with passion, I love all of you. Not just the good because the bad comes too. I will always tear up when I think of the day we first met and remember that wide-eyed, short haired dark-brunette who held me like i'd never been loved before. I will always be the one to adore you. I could never stop the feelings I have for you. If they were a faucet, there would be no left or right. All of life and direction flies away when I'm with you and I want you to know I never meant to hurt you. I will always be here waiting.
Burning Out Morning sun surprised us all as awoke desires of the dark. Not long we were asleep, safe in unbroken dreams. Now no telling what the day brings. Alien to the eye and i never came disguised. Baby dream big, time is on your side. Baby dream big and you wont be denied. I tell you i tell you, you could fly fly fly fly dont believe me just try. Evening moon may you show yourself soon. Days have got me aching tired, denying my desires. Give me your hand and tell me i can fly fly fly fly High
[SIZE=medium]Everything draws from poetry[/SIZE] [SIZE=medium]From television to late night comedy[/SIZE] [SIZE=medium]It took me years to figure it out[/SIZE] [SIZE=medium]That poems and lyrics are what it's all about[/SIZE] [SIZE=medium]The rhyming isn't present but the structure is[/SIZE] [SIZE=medium]Introduction and emphasis on subtle things[/SIZE] [SIZE=medium]Most importantly the symmetry and its fragility[/SIZE] [SIZE=medium]Like I said, everything draws from poetry[/SIZE]
ay ay ay, read my poems! http://swagblackcharles.wordpress.com/ any feedback would be seriously awesome. If any of you guys wanna do a collab or something, let me know. My interests/inspirations are mysticism, activism, Allen Ginsberg, being weird, and of course, drugs.
srsly guise, go to http://swagblackcharles.wordpress.com/ If anyone wants to publish their poetry there just lemme know. I'll give you a poem to inspire you to check out my fuckin poetry blog Hey police officers, NSA, FBI, CIA, I got something to say. Suck my black dick. You're not better than us you pricks. I wish I could work for you guys Just so I could blow the whistle. Expose all the fucked up shit you do You may have me outmanned and outgunned, but I ain't afraid of you. At least I can go to sleep at night Knowing that I'm not a fucking monster like all of you. And that reminds me, why do you try and make good people into monsters? Fuck God, We should pray to Snowden. (God no offense, please don't smite me or punish me, just trying to write poetry). Big Bad Government Agencies, do you think you're better than me? Well your not. You don't have shit on Black Charles. Don't you dare tell me how to live my life. That job is reserved for my mother. You deceitful autocratic assholes. You disgust me. You better eat your vitamins and say your prayers brothers, Cause your judgement day is coming.
From a hazy dreamscape stroll he is wrenched and through bleary eyes he reads the clock. 6:29. Seconds remain until the ultimate cacophony and he closes his eyes again; let nirvana lie where euphoria lied to him. Let his bleary eyes open upon a world where every pitiful personification has gone away. Let this shell breathe in the morning air and die a little bit inside, as it wrenches itself from bed and leaves the alarm clock screaming steadily behind.
What I see is blanketed stars Undermined by invisible scars I sat only what I mean And I mean what I say Something however I can't quite relay The message, the words or the meaning Doesn't mean I'm without feeling When I'm drowning in silence Destroyed my defiance Mental stigmas Unknown shadow enigmas
He who sleeps He who sleeps at war May suffer as much as the soldiers He may be at rest But with the world on both shoulders He who rests during battle May be sleeping But who wants to fight with wounds still bleeding
edit: Replaced it with a new poem; from the perspective of someone thoroughly enjoying themselves with some cannabinoid rich cannabis Effervescent Brain Soup: 7:36pm - I can feel the slightest inklings of the experience dancing along my periphery. Movement is a series of electric tingles, oozing and sparking along the neural patchwork of my body. Toe tingling chill with a light sweat. Music has begun to streeetch and as it passes through It tickles; a fleeting melody that sets my finger tips and quadriceps alight. 7:42pm - The electric tension builds and the cold sweat has lost its chill. My legs have begun thawing from the inside: ever so sloooowlllllllyyyyyyy....... but the thawing heat sparks when it reaches open air. My body is electrically ,eclectically, ecstatically, emphatically, operationally primed. My bones are snapped power cords, flailing erratically in the wind. Sparking and sputtering with hidden energy, reacting to the world around them in ways that transcend matter.. They do so, and yet the cord snapping in the wind is simply a conduit for something, anything. An anything is found a few minutes later: As the experience grows ever more intense more and more musicians take up the sinuous, veiny strings of my body. Music is switched back on! It rings bells calling my sinuous soldiers to attention. They prove themselves masters. He has lost himself. He finds himself awakening with transcendental vision burned into his mind's eye. Soon found is the paper he used last night. "What has the night been, but for sand slipping through Ka-leid-o Skopic prisms" "the line of an infinite number of points; the plane of an infinite number of lines" that was an excerpt from a work of mine, modified and poetically extrapolated upon just for all of you Happy 4/20!!
It is the wonder and curse of humanity To look back and see how far we came. Days past we would sit on the pier Thinking that we would never change. That our views, thoughts, and loves Were immutable... That the day would never come when we would see how far we have come. We were so wrong. So self assured and prideful. Fighting against the winds of change, we dug our hands into the sands: Building sandcastles that would fall beneath tides but no... Not us, never us. Time was the tide and we were castles in the sand; building ourselves up with our backs to the sea. So opinionated, So easily swayed. So obstinate, So afraid. From the dawn we toiled, talked, and shared... forgot the future. All we were was all we ever cared to be. And for a time we cried out against it, Futile and small as we were, Until we could not bear the screams of of one another... Until we let the shifting sands lie; until the tide smothered our cries.
This is the End "This is the end," I tell myself I pick up the gun which lies on the shelf I start to think.. There's nothing left for me anyway I always hate waking up the next day No friends, no lover, just Death by my side A rush of emotions come at me like a tide My life is a rollercoaster which only goes down I force a smile so I don't have to frown These wounds are too deep... Impossible to mend I say to myself, "This is the end."
The stomach churns of the hunger now aged as the day grows old The arm tingles of the burn but barely a memory. His eyes. My eyes. Our eyes desperately fighting to produce a tear. The dehydration. The cold warmth of death emerging from the shadows. Our clothes crisp, cracked and caked with the thick, relentlessly heavy blood soaked dirt and tar. Shards of times now long lost but for a twinkle in the sunlight amidst the rubble. We pray together in thought. We hear defeat. We wait, our mouths held so tightly closed. We know the fear that you will never see. We know the horrors that sleep with those passed. You look at me and I stare at you. You see my status and I see your soul. This is war and we are soldiers always, our spirits united as our bodies grow old.
Knee deep in the fucking puddle again. Soaked in this shit again, the image of doubt My fucking problems chew me up and spit me out. Bone crushing self loathing to the point of public sorrow when i'm out. So i'll force my hand. Clear demand for suffer and pout. With a glass in my hand and a cigarette in my mouth
'A Poem of My Death' \nDeath is my fearful fantasy, To transcend my known reality. The greatest cause of dismay and dread, Is the road I look to take, when I am dead. \nMy dreams, part-time, take me to the door, Only to the threshold, never the whole tour. Time before time, this was my worst fear, To leave this body, this Earth…never to re-appear. \nI am still quite anxious, do not mistake, But what if death is just misunderstood, to those who are awake. And though, I know not the time, the how, or the place. I have lived and loved and will welcome death's embrace. \nSo when my hour draws forward and near, You, not anyone, will witness these eyes shed a tear. \nFor I have no expectations, only dreams, Where I come to understand reality…..is never what it seems. \n(c) JP. All Rights Reserved.
Here's a few. Wrote this one about my ex the other day. Black Friday Today I heard a song that brought me back to you again. It said something to the effect of If you say you love me I will love you forever. But we both know the truth, For I have admitted my love to you on occasions innumerable And though you returned the words, You never returned the sentiment. But still I adore you, and still I have a hunger for you That gnaws its way through my very Soul. Dare I say, I still need you. I need you to hold me at night, I need you to assure me I'm not insane, Because I'm slipping more and more every hour, And I need you to lift these black clouds from my existence So that I can continue to simply breathe Without being crushed by my own Insignificance. But there is joy I this sorrow, For without it I would have no proof of ever having loved you At all. And with this, I can cope. This one I wrote about my family. Most of them are real assholes who don't give me any support through anything because I don't live the way they want me to, so they're being immortalized by my pen. Letter to a Family I live with my burdens and my sorrows But it's alright, I promise I don't mind I've grown used to it, you can say what you please Behind my back, as long as, to my face, you're kind. But fuck all of you who refuse to listen, Who are any of you to advise? How can you help me with all of the hatred you hold For those who don't deserve to be despised? I can't wrap my mind around your outlook "Damn them all if any difference shows." How much longer before you realize That emotions, like flowers, always grow. What good has your arrogance done? Has it made you feel on top and secure? I know you think you're only looking out for me, But I know your methods are far from pure. How can you paint yourself demure When you continually ravage the souls of all you lure? I've grown older and tired of the games and lies. You tell me that you always know what's right But I know that you only think you know what's right. So why do I fight? Why do I try to make you see The pain and repressed memories From all the good and bad and what you did for me All the good and bad and what you did to me All the good and bad and what you took from me When I know it cannot be, you will not see So I have no choice but to let go and be free. Who am I? Nobody. And I am free. Let me know what you guys think!