Posts tagged poem

Diamond,

like a look in your eye,

sadness perspiring truth through the longest goodbye,

look I, never told a lie but I’d lie to put a smile in those eyes…

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
William Shakespeare

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I am the nigger. Singer of songs, Dancer… Softer than fluff of cotton… Harder than dark earthRoads beaten in the sun By the bare feet of slaves… Foam of teeth … breaking crash of laughter… Red love of the blood of woman, White love of the tumbling pickaninnies…Lazy love of the banjo thrum… Sweated and driven for the harvest-wage, Loud laugher with hands like hams, Fists toughened on the handles, Smiling the slumber dreams of old jungles,Crazy as the sun and dew and dripping, heaving life of the jungle, Brooding and muttering with memories of shackles: I am the nigger. Look at me. I am the nigger. 

By Carl Sandburg

I am the nigger. 
Singer of songs, 
Dancer… 
Softer than fluff of cotton… 
Harder than dark earth
Roads beaten in the sun 
By the bare feet of slaves… 
Foam of teeth … breaking crash of laughter… 
Red love of the blood of woman, 
White love of the tumbling pickaninnies…
Lazy love of the banjo thrum… 
Sweated and driven for the harvest-wage, 
Loud laugher with hands like hams, 
Fists toughened on the handles, 
Smiling the slumber dreams of old jungles,
Crazy as the sun and dew and dripping, heaving life of the jungle, 
Brooding and muttering with memories of shackles: 
I am the nigger. 
Look at me. 
I am the nigger. 

By Carl Sandburg

17 notes

The world is the stage and I it’s lost player,
left to wither by a lonely rock.
The laughter within tortures my soul,
till only hate pours through my tears,
I hate with more passion than your love could heal,
and die with every second a hour is filled.

The world is the stage and I it’s lost player,

left to wither by a lonely rock.

The laughter within tortures my soul,

till only hate pours through my tears,

I hate with more passion than your love could heal,

and die with every second a hour is filled.

12 notes

The Final Chapter

This was inspired by a story I once read;

I revise my thoughts so reason applauds,

smiles with a vacant stare,

I’m a million times better without being a million times,

A million minds could not contemplate the million thoughts I provoke,

In a million ways I’ve sent refugees down millennium way,

Find the truth of the past so we can live this millennium safe,

I wonder,

Could this millennium save what the last millennium made?

I’m a chef in life’s kitchen,

Cooking up thoughts with your side dishes,

I’ve humbled plates with tales of my life’s vision,

So grab a fork and share in it,

Let’s take life away like a Chinese meal,

Own our own like possession,

So,

When the voices come and beyond the here after,

We just close the book like it’s the final chapter.

151 notes

Her Path

There’s a path there but where is the key?

Open doors to open ghosts, the past,

I’m obsessed with lies and the truth resides in the shadows,

I love her more than less but confess I don’t measure in units,

The feelings I harbour are purer than the thoughts of a new born,

I’ve tasted her lips and breathed her air,

I’ve felt her skin and stroked her hair,

There’s a path there but where is the key?

Her voice beats a path to my soul,

I no longer speak but listen to her silence,

Whisper in despair when she is no longer there,

There’s a path there and I think she’s the key,

The truth of the myth,

The heart of the lie,

The wrong in the right,

The dark in the light,

A contradictory feeling that sets her apart,

See love is simple, hate is its shadow,

revenge is its curse and sex is it’s joy,

A concoction of poison,

A dilution of thoughts,

There is a path there and i think she’s the key,

Because she’s more than my lover, my friend, my enemy,

She is my passion, my hate and my fury, My all.

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