Black Merc 0202-0-16

Lately I’ve been


My old structure

of strict militant ways.

Don’t know how

long before.

I’ll be consumed

by the flames.

The past be the


Glued stuck to my frustrated


Being bound to

something worst.

Confused that sometimes

the worst deeds can set you


Mind filthy, rotting away off

The bones of my

decaying last good memories.

Life’s snap shots of

seconds of smiles and laughter.

Then Jokes become


The laughter becomes


Reality kicks into

Dissipated smiles.

The heart is distantly

colder like a halleys Comet.

As I rapidly forget short

Small numbers and sentences.

I won’t die…

I’m dieing slowly along

the way.

Experiencing that first hand

failure to control crashing

Into ashes.

Warped feelings overdosed, lusting

for violence and gun powdery

children’s cereal.

Maybe inching instantly

towards a whole

solid insanity plea.

Watching humans devour there

nurturers and there nurtured.

A thick book deal guide through

corruption, scams,

set ups and confusion.

More and more I

Aggressively drift back

into that.

Predictably same facial

expression that never changes.

No matter the emotion, excitement

Happyness of whatever

Joy is.

My face will always look

The exact same.

My face stays stuck trying

to comprehend.

Why everyone looks

at me like I’m a stone.

Maybe I am one to

Think of.

I fail the try outs…

Then become more

upset that I pathetically try to hard.

Or is just never close

To enough.

All humans are born with

A heart’s worth of emotions.

Yes that is fact…

What do you call a human

That has to program there self to?

Feel it….

Or know when to receive it…

Reciprocate it in a way to

Trust the other.

Note that it’s not always

Out to break you or kill you.

From the inside out…

I feel less and less emotions

like when I was younger.

My emotions are plumiting

Stocks all over again.

A very bad investment…

Back to who I was not

supposed to been.

The rebirth of chaos is

about to began.

I can feel it..

It’s me…

I am chaos…

The second coming…

Is on the way…

Free Us…

So we will be one with our former self…

The form of a poker face…

Dead from With in…

The Black Mercury……..

Two Deadly Yet Equal A True Lovers Pastence

“A Throw Back From 2017″



The Real Bonnie and Clyde…

The untold story…

Me and her were two bullets in a chamber of a 9mm. Never jamming the gun. She sat on the bed yelling to the kids running late for school. “Lets make it!”making them move faster before they left out the house.

I was on the floor with my back to the bed right by her feet. Caramel skinned complexion toes I wanted to bite. I sat on the floor counting money and putting it in the laundry basket so I can get ready to leave. She knew I still had beef with the guys up the street. They all knew that this little lady was just as tough and as dangerous as me.

She sat on the bed humming the song she likes. Loading a machine bullet after bullet. Placing each one slowly in the clip with a Newport cigarette at the end of her lips dropping ashes on the tattoo on her hip. Burgundy bandana tied around her head and a burgundy bandana around the back of the barrel next to the trigger.

God! She was as thorough as they came. My true equal finally I’ve met my match. I got up and through my burgundy and black North face jacket on. Before leaving out of the spot she looked at me with her hazel eyes with a sad expression on her face and said. “Daddy be careful out there because you know it’s hot.”

I replied back saying. “Not as hot as you are lamb chop, please make sure you hold down the spot.” she said to me. “Just call me if something goes wrong and I’ll pop up and spray the damn block up.” She would with no conscience to… I said back to her after giving her a kiss on the lips. “Don’t worry about me babe I got this thing on lock”

I was 23 and she was 27 and I kept a burgundy bandana folded up in my back right pocket with her Nick name on it….











There is a very real untold story behind this…..


(My verry first post)


Times are hard…

The only thing that keeps me going is warm blood and cold steel.

My life is complicated!

My days are darker than a solar eclipse slowly covering the moon of my life.

Until darkness…

I drink to get sleep!

I drink to forget!

Drugs now just ware off quick!

Time is suspended…

Lord forgive me for I have sinned to survive!

I will never have any regrets!

Slow me down with physical pain.

My tears will stain the concrete like blood in a dim lit hallways…

Blood stain on the sofa cushions!

Blood stains almost everywhere that there was a short story!

A battle!

I will never forget those days of war for peace.

To only loose peace of mind through my eyes!

Violence soaked in gasoline…

I find the defendant guilty of being misguided, savage and blind…

I received the chair!

Love me or kill me!

I have wounds that will never heal…

The world to me is one giant grave yard!

Me six feet deep…

Day by day…


I’m only what America made me…

I still live by faith holding my crucifix tightly in my hand…

With a stone grip!

Money still grows from hell’s tree leaves.

Hands that have roads on palms…

Hard like prison doors.

Autographed by powder burns from last night…

Sincerely time will tell!

This city is soulless undergone reruns that won’t end!

The days are interminable…

I watch a show of purgatory up to its highest volume!

Kill or be killed!

Another black male enslaved by his own funeral service…

People acting like they care with there crocodile tears…

falling to the grass…

Ashes to ashes…

Dust to dust…

How many of us will go next?

Forget justice!

Justice is just us…

Genocide from people in blue uniforms!

Am I dying or am I dead?

I can’t tell anymore…

I can’t dwell anymore…

My pain and suffering…

Just kill me already!

She loves me…

She loves me not…

She loves me…

She loves me not…

Then she pulled the trigger…

Aiming at my own heart!

Shooting me down!

Fuck it all!

Laugh out loud!

In their eyes…

we are a joke to them…

Examples will be made in this soulless parade…


A Young Cubs Transformation Into A Feared Lion

A STRONG MANS FATE. He took a blood oath by chasing a ghost that was never there.

HE BECAME SUPERIOR QUICKLY. Casting spells out turning his foes into smoke and receiving a black cross tattooed in the middle of his forehead.

HE NEVER RAN AWAY FROM A FIGHT. Brawling with the strength and stamina of Zeus. Ripping trees from there roots. Punching through concrete burriers that surrounds him with heat.

IS HE A MAN OR A MONSTER? He can’t tell no more. His body’s always sore. He got tired of being poor and his silence spoke louder than yours. So listen to a cold hearted lion as he roars.

HIS MEMORIES OF THE PAST. Where the torture and blood shed reside. He was a weak individual who was picked on by his family of criminals. Till one day he stood up and flashed lightning till the men tured to minerals.

PLEASE DONT JUDGE A SWORD BY ITS WEIGHT. He stood on the hill in freezing temperatures grinding with Bill the beastly one. Till will the creepy one pulled heat out to steal from bill but Bill drew first putting a whole in will for trying to pull out on him.



Please! Don’t Read This! This Is The Worst Shit I’ve Ever Wrote

Ya I cursed! Violent talks and walks through the dust storms. I love all of your positive speeches. I love all of your pictures of Sandy beach’s. I dug a bullet out of his chest with a steak knife and my finger nails. I know I ain’t shit and I never will be so don’t have pitty for me just listen to me. What? I bet you just think I’m downing myself. Just check my track record or Google misery. I was sixteen the first time I snorted a brown dream. I’m sorry but everything just can’t be perfect in your life! Or is it? Maybe you never had to steal to feed your siblings. I’m not hating! I’m glad you can take trips. I can’t cuz I have felonies so I can’t get a passport. The good old USA…. FUCK DONALD TRUMP AND THE KKK!!!!! Racist to me just because I’m black watching neo Nazis March on Washington D.C…… What the fuck is going on! Hold up! I fucked up… This was suppose to be positive. What I wrote was suppose to make you see who I really am… Or some shit! Fuck it… I fucked up again and again, and again and again…. Filled caskets while you sat home cozy hand crafting wicker baskets. I’ll just watch the pictures of you going to college or graduating or some shit. I’m sincerely glad that you made it. On the flip side where I reside prison pictures in the yard with other inmates for making chancey mistakes. Oh fuck! Is chancey a word? I don’t care…. It will be today! I made being me fashionable. You stole it to perpetrate. If you really knew how we live across the train tracks. You would shed a tear for every time I gotten booked for a misdemeanor charge went to bail review and got a no bail then got sent back to jail to rot in hell. Anyway… I’m so proud of you and your remarkable success… For real! I’m not hating at all! I guess we all went to jail because we didn’t want to starve. My mother was just happy that I survived in there all…. That’s it…. If you got questions… No comment! The 5th!


A King Beyond The Streets

A long winter wool coat draped down to the flo. Tommy broom sticks concealed within ready to blow. You have made a noise loud enough to make the whole city know. Never step in the way of him in black coat.


Staring at what you left under the rug. Fast cars like stage coaches. Chased while galloping through the hood. A man with absolutely nothing to lose and no cards to fold. Behind the steering wheel of a pitch fork. All bathed in dripping gold.

This is the only man who can turn a bad Avenue or Blvd block into a quiet safe zone. Without swinging nickel plated frustrated enders of life’s splinters. That needs taking out as quick as word of mouth.

Moving around like drug currency from the south to the north. To the north to the south. The bait car moving up from the south to the north and back to the south for more. The man was made of pure organization and trained thought by core.

He is the only man left in the city with pure heart and never bending a knee to any.

He is a hybrid of anarchy with in hybernation that can wake when tried of patience.

He is just a man…

A human…

I Want The Money Now


Is know good…

Testing patience…

Don’t do it!

Hunger can turn the lights on to violence.


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


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!

Respect The Photographer Before You…

Why are you smiling at him?

You better stop!

It makes him nervous.

The last time someone smiled at him. He shook there hand. Turned around and got flashed by a well manufactured camera.

When the picture came out of the poloriod camera. There was no one on it… Just blood on the pavement.

It’s nothing personal if your smiling. Just don’t smile at him. The last time someone smiled at him…

He got a camera pulled out on him and placed to his forehead. Only this time the camera didn’t flash…

He was in his jean pockets and took every thing he had. Never smile and show teeth to a man like him.

The last, last, last time he seen someone smiling at him… A dark colored car with dark tinted windows rode past him

Slowly. The passenger of the dark car rolled the window down and was grinning at him.

The dark colored car drove past him up to the end of the block On the corner. The man in the dark car hopped

Out of the passenger side of the car while pulling his ski mask down over his face in the middle of June.

He…. Ran up to him with camera set on automatic taking lots of pictures of him. Missing every shot as the one dodging

Then ducks in between two cars.. The shooter ran out of film and flees off on foot running up the block.

The shooter got no pictures of him…

Let me tell you something…

Don’t ever smile at a man who’s been through war and more…. The last, last, last, last time someone smiled at him…

Four guys with hoodies were walking down the block toward his car. The four guys had their hoodies pulled over their heads.

The man in the car could only see the top and bottom rows of one of the boys gold teeth.

Before the four boys could pull their cameras first and aim at the man in the car.

The man in the car leaned his seat back and reached behind the passengers seat quickly pulling out his camera like paparazzi ready for action.

Flash! Flash! Flash! Flash! Flash! Flash,flash! Flash! Flash, flash! The man in the car leaned I’m the window seal of

The car with his camera and took the pictures of three of the four boys attempting to take his picture.

The man in the car went looking for the last boy that got away around the town. He was very desperate to take his….

portraits perfectly….

Before the man in the car could get to the last boy that got away. A week later he found out on the streets that

The boy he was so desperately looking for… He found out that someone else took his picture.

Let me break it down for you. When you smile at a paranoid, shell shocked soldier who’s been in a mental casket for some years. Resurrected only when his camera goes flashing souls in captivity. Standing up and re walking through the past tense of cruel battles. He knows no happiness, no love, no relationships or friendships. All he know is how to take cameras apart, clean them, put them back together in seconds. Load it up with film and take nothing but head shots. Picture Perfect to the memory.

Please wipe your smiles away in the presence of a man like this…..



Embracing The Footsteps Of A Royal Bloodline

Hood royalty…

I had to find my feet. Match up with defeat as a youngster. Fight after fight after fight. I was a small child. Losing every fight horribly. No matter how scared, beaten and brused I got right back up and moved on. Later on in life I would find out that I was litterally the golden child of a royal hood family. Everybody knew my family but me.

A strong respect was formed some years ago by my family in the city and prison systems. Earned by paying dues from actions of pure strength, inteligence and power. When I grew to my teenage years I could see the staring of people in the block and Damn near every where I went. I could even here some of there words. I ain’t going to lie. I felt like a young Hollywood star.

Every older person knew me before I even knew myself and what I was capable of. When I had advanced to my late teenage years to my early twenties. Most of my royal family were incarcerated, on the run from authorities, strung out on dope or just plain old vision out of sight. I got older and realized that I wasn’t young no more. I’ve gotten way bigger and way more aggressive and thorough never losing fights anymore. Truthfully no loses taken. No matter what weapons or weak strategies that were used by my foes.

I ran with… Stood up to the worst of the worst till everyone respected my very presents. I felt like the Prince of my kingdom. It was then when I found out who I really was. A warrior!

A true warrior with the bloodline of famous men. Real stand up brick wall sculptures of hood royalty. There statues still remain till this day. No one in the city could ever surpass them no matter how much work they put in…..

The Transparent Insurgent

An chaos erupted in the mind of the corrupted don’t interrupt him while he pours his gin.

Sitting back in the back seat acting as if he’s napping forgetting that he never sleeps they were speechless!

As he witnessed the setup taking place in the face of the blaze of rage with steel being pulled out the babies car seat then discharging.

I beg your pardon! He said… So they put gloves on instead hoping out of the car spinning lead like they were weaving spider webs.

Being a mastermind was his only crime seeking the death penalty in many. Perfectionist… After they emptied out their easy bake ovens peeling muffins knocking blue berries out disgusted.

The napping man that wasn’t watched it all from the back seat of the car like a hollywood star. Hands never getting dirty as hand sanitizer was his number one endorser.

Now what he sees he’s seen since a bean now a grown stalk that produces a dark art immune to violence of the highest capacity. Loaded magazines sounding off the forth of July. No lie!                                  More truth than the story of sojourner truth. Was a victim… Truth! Of a broken system… Truth!                                                 See… You can’t blame him or play him for he is the silent commander of Well organized soldiers. Turning pebbles into boulders. Don’t forget what I told ya. The mastermind always faked his or her slumber so please don’t end up a number. Just listen and pay close attention. Henchmen, tension,  realizing his mentions and intentions on being missing but visually visible.

All eyes on the quiet ones…

Notice that the ones with their tongues out always speak the loudest…