To Audition For Solar Energy

Potential
Increased
Slight
showers
Down
On this
QUEEN..
Down to Her
sunshine..
I..
Am..
Forced
To yield..
From
the brightest..
Gleam..
And
Into the flames..
Of lightning..
My eyes from
Behind my
Eyes lids..
Snatched
Them quickly
Blinded..
I’m not afraid..
To touch
The polit
Light..
The
enticing
sun’s
beauty…
The rays have
Grazed my
endorphins..
Till I’m
Fully
engulfed in
Her smile..
Nope..
No choices..
A wild
fires a
forming..
A triangular
earth…
My heart
pounding
From the
Hips rotation..
Three
hundred
sixty degree..
Triathlon..
In her eyes
My Words are
trapped..
Not..
Gone..
On contact..
No preservatives..
Fresh..
Organic..
Resurrection..
Savory..
Insightful..
Stifles..
My..
Perceptions..
her minds..
Unsaid Times..
I’m upset
Dying to..
See one last
Smile..
past in
My dirrection..

Shea Butter

My intro wore your body

out like the latest

fashions…

Capsules in tattoos,

Brain washed by

Someone so called taboo…

Someone I
Spy, that’s brown
Skin through
My glasses…

Crowned by

Your influence,

To Shine gold sunz

over me…

Jewel of the

Smile only

motivates

My Integrity…

Lables of silk

Stampede all
Over your figure…

I figured out,

If I stay on your

Heels, then

You will make
One man…

The fool of all
That is real…

Untied, tounge

Out like unlaced

Sneakers…

Funny that I,

Peep us, more

Then you could
Ever…

I can write

A courious

About
My Visions on
Loop…

Yet, visions can

Be very scary
When you can see
Beyond the future…

The truth…

On self, I pray that I
Don’t place a
betting…
chance

With a Russian

Rulete mind

Frame…

For I know, that at

At the end, I’d

Be the one shot
In the head…

With no chances

Of surviving…

When love at first

Write, is a pen
On paper.

Out of control.

The odds of me

Surviving Having

A hole in my

Head.

Is a metaphor

For trying to find

A soulmate

that will

Never end.

Without us…….

I Want The Money Now

Hesitation…

Is know good…

Testing patience…

Don’t do it!

Hunger can turn the lights on to violence.

Heated!

Walking around with lent in his pockets on pins and needles.

Needing!

Not wanting!

Nobody ever gave him nothing!

Not even the last crumb of a blueberry muffin.

This is now the barrel of the gun man.

Wanting everything!

Leaving nothing!

Hands to your side…

Gun to your chest…

This ain’t know test….

You better just do what’s best…

For you!

Hunting Season By Cameron Chin

A good heart, filled with despair. Does a good heart really get you anywhere? This world is cold, they say only the wolves survive. Seems like having a good heart will only get you eaten alive. I reach for a greater being only to be held down by my own self esteem. Is there really hope for me? Hopefully, this is how things are supposed be! You’re one of kind so know everything in life takes time. Having a good heart is a blessing, just because others loss their souls trying to take control of what you already withhold, doesn’t mean you have to stoop to their low. Just be you and control what you can control.

I Hope You Know This

Just a feeling… I’m walking on warm beach sand with you to the kitchen. Last night I ran demolition of your easy mentions. I still got the finger nail scars on my back to prove it. I’ve never seen someone smile as hard as you when you looked over at me this morning and you asked me was I hungry.

I didn’t reply yet because you were smiling so damn hard that the sunshine from the window reflected off of your teeth temperary blinding me. It was bright like a projector showing A old black and white movie starring you and me. Then I snapped out of it when I heard you say “are you listening to me silly?”… I said back to her that morning… Whatever you just said to me just know in your heart that I’m staying.

She said…. Baby stop playing. I said… I ain’t playing. She said…. I love you. I said… I hope it’s forever. She said…. Forever… No need for hope just make sure that you always tie me up with your arms like strong rope when I need them the most.

I said… Forever!

She said…. Forever!

Stop And Think

Will you remember me when I leave? Understanding is something you couldn’t achieve. See me… I bleed for this thing called pride. So will you open your eyes. A kite can’t fly with out wind current. We all cant breath without plants and trees. So just like I need you, you need me. Just like the earth has to turn three hundred sixty degrees. We can chamber a gun with one bullet of compassion and assassinate the racism and hate. I’ll keep my doors open for any skin color or race, and you can walk through at any time and any place. You gotta take them shoes off before you come in this joint. Don’t disrespect my clean carpet. If you have clothes that need to be washed I’ll wash ’em. If your hungry I’ll make pizza and the dough I’ll toss it. If you are cold… turn up the heat ,but don’t go past seventy five degrees because my bills ain’t cheap. Life is strange but one thing will always be the same. We aren’t so different if you use your brain. THINK!

Poe Folk 

The blues…. Down and out… Poor and more… Some how life keeps showing me the door. So I leave out but I can’t get away from shame. Fingers get pointed and my index is double jointed and somehow my pointer and trigger puller get pointed back at the so called anointed and mirrors dance all around me laughing and ridiculing my discomfort. Disgruntled facial expressions close captioning my thoughts in discretion. Nothing but lent and space in my pockets apartment space. Angry, downing whiskey with no chase. Holes in my jeans, stains on my sleeves, aim and release, begging for change, please! While my hands out, proud not, jail rot, pail tops while the dogs just chase their tails in the same spot. Dead locked on New graveyard space because that’s where I’m headed soon. The very moment I breach my mother’s womb I was doomed and nothing but facts. So stop telling me these double barrel lies so you can feel better. Please open your eyes because what you’re doing to me is not a surprise AMERICA….. The white and the blue come first. The red is lost with all fifty stars. POE FOLK!

PUBLIC EMENY 

Poverty…. Need I say more. Look at my hands. Tough and callused with tendons torn. Drug wars and strong arm robbery mixed together like by racial babies. Hand guns are aborted after a life has been taken, and the bullets cover your skin like scabies. When the night falls corrupt police lurk. Bloody tee shirts found in the gutter and dirty money made late night while death stays close like a baby’s mother. Shoot outs… Hand guns and assault rifles being reloaded and discharged… Bullets breaking into car windshields and grazing apartment burglar bars. Breath taking! Living life on a blade… Every next step in life leaves sharp lacerations my feet and hopes bittersweet like fresh squeezed lemonade and my only concern is being under paid.

No room for starving so I’m mobbing taking everything I can get my hands on, and Lord knows it’s wrong but my family’s going to eat or my mind will lose its last good conscience by defeat and my mind will be gone. No justice no peace our lives mean nothing… Expendable, worthless to the 100th degree. Drugs are in me… Everyday I’m losing a brother or mother to these heartless streets. Die I will… Stand I will… Kill at will… Self defense…. No finger prints… My life is dense… The hearts color now is as dark as the night gets with no street lights there… Listen……. And observe while I lay on the curb with my hands in cuffs with no key it’s rough, but for me it’s life do you are my strife and these words I might just burn tonight. Nobody never loved us… So how can I have any conference to love myself or others.

Put a gun to my forehead and pull the trigger.. But no matter how I lived when I die in there eyes I will always be a n#####…