the world can be a rabid dog, a goD frothing backwards while Mr. Clean reads
a sermon from the pulpit as a false prophet causing me to yell, "Shim-shum
shimmeny-shum, up from the shadows of the Shoalin slum! Fee-fi-foe-fum,
eye smell the blood of a fallen one!" My pen was a sword, 'twas inevitable eye
would end up skewered upon its venomous tip as violence begets violence yet
silence is just a distorted sort of violent indifference. Live by the s.word, die by
the s.word, so eye buried ghosts in the sands of Kyushu, revamped my stylo
into a drunken vomit spewing masochist churning blood and piss into another
batch of sum county mulberry moonshine. Instead of a wu-tang sword, eye have
me a la la la la la la la la la lush of a drunken quill spilling forth the woo to the foo
times twenty-two thousand and dirty-three. Blame it on the pen, but wot came first,
the chicken or the egg? Who is the bad influence on whom, weaving excuses on a
loom propped up by yet another empty bottle of the wicked county prune. Eye want
to write lines of eloquence filled with bullfrogs and butterflies, rainbows and baby's
breath, but this drunken pen has a mind of its own, slithering in-between the scene
of salesmen saying it from rusted metallic mountaintops, "I have found the way, 'tis
not YOUR way, so cut your hair son ok!" Hey hey hey! wot are you referring to?
Elohim, miholah, bespolah, holapsfofahcahmall? ?Fofahcahmall? Theysbe suddenly
sounding very small while this pen of mine is drinking itself into a stupour, brewing
up another stew of vomiticus grammaticus long.windy.gusts - eye didn't intend on
rhyming these lines, my drunken pen has once again taken over, pushing me to
letgoletgo and pray in hopes that it drinks itself straight in order for bullfrogs,
butterflies and everything nice like sugar, lollipops and rainbows to finally begin to
show from out of the freaky flow of this ultra triple-distilled drunken ink - slow right
down into something quaint and normal, wash this drunken mess down the sink
without having to fink with my dirty think, my dirty think - the first sign of the crime
is denial - drunken pen, drunken hand? Drunken hand, drunken pen? Oh good Lord,
here come the bends once again, yeah, here come the bends again, there's only one
thing left to do and it's to fold this paper into a neat package eye can mail off to the
People-In-The-Sky so they can offer me some insight into all of the reasons why
I do not know?
Dear Sir,my innocence is gone now, no more fear ,
Do you love to **** me again, I am always here.
I wonder when you taught me how to use a pen,
I was so into you but my ****** was in pain !
I was crying, i was too immature to understand
I was turning only 13, I couldn't feel what happened.
but I promise I never forget what you taught me at the end.
I begged you to stop and I looked into your eyes,
there was a reflection of a cruel world,that what I deserved!
Don't be afraid, mommy never knows what you did,
Nobody knows that you made me bleed.
Dear sir,my innocence is gone with all my tears,
as I had no safe place to hide myself from fears.
Nobody saw anything as your world was blind!
having hidden hatred inside,a virgin died.
Dear sir, time cannot erase your memories,
time doesn't heal all wounds,that you marked,
yes,you took my innocence that will be always on my mind.
Elegy to Child Lost
Passion's love oft tempts despair
Casts a prideful cosmic dare--
Like Prizing Joy's most intimate caress
Babe snug beneath a mother's breast
Senses at this time are keen
There's no secret kept between
Loving mother, wriggling babe--
Wanted , dreamed of, much delayed
But entwined twin was also loved--
Some say Nature's method proves
That one twin may give all to mate---
But this fatal sacrifice must decimate.
Only mother's eyes would feel babe's smiles--
or sense those legs that wandered miles
And daring feet that danced in tunes while
Arms swam in gentle Celtic croons.
When babe vanished--not a sound.
Mother 's grief was not allowed.
Tempted so to trail behind
Escaping shattered troubled mind.
Squelching sorrow's hungry arms
She Tried erase babe's fluttering charms
Never spoke of-- never mourned.
By her husband she was warned
Was best forget a child so early lost--
Funerals, gravestones--such a cost--
But the years have called babe near,
Mother's journal writ in tears:
'Please forgive my selfish heart.
Repressed from all --this tragic part
I felt your sacrificial act--
You left your cherished twin intact'.
There is no law of random acts
Doctors examine data facts
It may be --that in the womb
When both spring flowers cannot bloom
One bold twin refrains to eat
Compels the other to complete
Hardy growth that life requires---
Sparks survival's crucial hours.
Not an accident 'tis sure--
Boldest spirits blossom pure.
Victoria Anderson-Throop ©
You have my soul, but you have your fate
Whatever your words, I’m willing to take
You have my word; I’ll give you my breath
It’s like a chain that would never be break
You are my love with all my heart,
I’ll fight for you with all my might.
And in the way, you admire your goals,
You hold my hands, but not so close.
As you go to your chosen path,
I’ll accept the fact that we will be apart.
In the dark side, I leave behind
Within my faith, that you’ll arise
Please don’t look back, coz I’m fighting still
I’m hurting so much! Don’t want to have you near
I accept my fate for what it does,
I’m bleeding so much, do you know for whom it was?
You reach your goals, as you want to have,
Would you remind the man that gave what he had?
As you reach the stars, and be the one
Be a sun that shines its own.
After the rain, the rainbow comes,
Like dark in the moon, when the light flash
A glimpse from you at least a short
For then I knew my pain is worth.
You know why I run game? It's 'cause I'm a player
I'm the night in shining armor, she's a dragon, I'm gon' slay her
That means when I beat it up, I'm gonna kill it
Tell her keep our business to herself, don't spill it
Can't follow directions, then it's on to the next
Hope you get the message, not talking 'bout a text
I sleep with more chicks than a night-gown
Without 'em I'm like a sentence with no noun
For those who don't know that means incomplete
It's a race to get 'em first, I gotta' compete
They wanna be on the team, tryin' to make the cut
True player, show no feelings, keep 'em in a shell, walnut
Females fill my atmosphere, they mean the world to me
I got damsels galore, it's always plural with me
Got gangs of chicks, which one should I bang
They're steady in my face, sort of like some bangs
Hate when they try to lock me down, I'm not in jail
She starts talking 'bout marriage, then I'm gonna bail
Sometimes I need my space, like a vacant lot
I hate being congested, like a nose filled with snot
Hey, stop bugging me, you startin' to act like a knat
Before you go, give me head, I need it like a hat
we are watching them
making fun with its slow move
you made for move not to awake us
i know we are more lazy but not like you!
You don't have senses and emotional faces
we slept but make others run
It's your race...
Just Nine Lines
Based on a true story from a television documentary on Human Trafficking...an international crime with participants from a broad spectrum of society...occuring on a daily basis. I have only seen documentaries on the trafficking of young girls between the ages of 5 and above!! Law enforcers, it seems are fighting a losing battle against the men and women who sell and enslave young girls and I have no doubt, young boys as well.
Somewhere this day on planet earth
A Mother-to-be, while in labor, cries
Not so much for the mounting pain
Nor the fear of possible death
So many fears for the future…
“What lies ahead in the coming years?
What “fate” will meet my child?”
And added to all her heightened fears is…
Will she be there to protect her child?
Those dark years have now passed into decades
When Tanya walked the shadowy streets of the city at late night
While kids her age slept peacefully in their beds
They made her dress up so she’d looked twenty one
Days were spent locked in a room, under watchful eyes
She was fed cheap fast food to her young heart’s content
Soon she'd lose all hope of liberation
This was the second man she had been sold to
And after a while she’d adapt to the situation
Still fresh in her mind was that last day at school
In her backpack was her favorite teddy bear
Her Mother had chosen to believe her step-father again
Now that her twelfth birthday would be in a month
As no one cared, she decided to run away
While at the bus station she met this “nice” couple
Who listened to every word she spoke
They promised her a ride to any place she wished
And she’d always wanted to see Disney land
“Maybe, she thought, it’d be a birthday treat”
However, that would be another promise broken
Weeks dragged on and they bought her “stuff”
Although treated well, sometimes she still felt alone
Then one day came the grown up clothes and make up
That night her innocence was stolen once more
Later she’d try to make an escape
Only to be caught and tied to the bed post
‘Make it easy on yourself and accept your “fate”, she was told
That was years ago, although it seems like yesterday,
When arrested by a new officer on the vice squad
Who saw the flaw in the picture before him
The pimp gave no reasonable answer to the simple question
‘Why are you parked late at night on the street corner with a minor?’
Looking back over the years, she came to conclude that “Fate” is just another word, made up to cast aside blame; when we do not want to see the path we’ve chosen which has led us to our present state
When Pilate symbolically washed his hands, though he had power in that moment to act..
When there before him stood truth and innocence,
Yet, he chose to make a comfortable bed for his conscience
Today, Tanya is a college graduate and a Mother who has vowed not to leave anything to “fate”. She’d teach her children to take responsibility for the choices they make…
She would teach them that no one is of lesser value than another..
Male or female; black or white, all hues; rich or poor
All have a God given right to live free!
For: Richard's "Girl Rising" Contest
(3rd Place Win)
I was born in a world of poverty and soiled life of a third world country
The way I lived till I was five years of age was walls of boundary
These walls had towers of guards that had no heart or care
If a child would try to climb the wall they lose their life I swear
Father had drank and threatened my mother with a knife
My father lost his job and wife and that was the hardship of life
He stopped my mother from taking off with me in her arm
Hoping that my father would ignore and left me be with no harm
When my father went off to drink one night and came home with rage
My brothers stood by my crib and took a beating that set up the next stage
My father had woken up to three scared children half starved and in pain
His final words as he walk away from the orphanage gate live life do not go insane
I was still a baby in the orphanage; the caretakers did not really care about the babies
They stole items and materials those wicked men and maternal evil ladies
They starved all the babies because it cost a lot to keep them alive
As a child of that age I could feel the sins and greed that gave out bad vibes
I was ignorant about what I drank and ate, as I see white maggots move in my bottle
As I see them move I thought about how they were playing and some were hostel
They ate each other to keep each other alive in a manner that took me by surprise
In the back round I hear others throwing things with sounds of painful cries
I got very strong at a young age I was able to start pulling myself up over the cage
My feelings were to see my brothers with strong lungs that I cried out of rage
My two brothers came to see me and sneak food into my crib
The caretaker would find the food in my hands as they grabbed it and hit me on my ribs
As painful as it was I kept eating the food with blood in my mouth as it was instinct
I sometimes laid in my crib dazed and confused with smell of death so distinct
With all my might I kept myself strong and climb the small wall
I finally was old enough to get out of the building and I could hear my brothers call
With tears of joy with short legs that ran as fast as my heart
I ran to my brothers arms and held their hands to have a new start
I grew stronger everyday but more things came into my life in a manner of dismay
If my brothers stay by my side I could smile and everyday their would be okay
Millions of lives and souls untold
And to account it all
Words, lines, films
A sliver of soft, scarlet ribbon
Writers flare with passion so strong
Filling minds with fantasies, reveries, histories
We consume it all like freshly baked bread
We feed until we are engorged and fed
A viral, universal mess
Ideas and unmade memories
Nothing more or less
My eyes remain glued to the screen
Living it all out
Tears dare to flow—to doubt
I should have thought of that
Can I truly let myself believe,
Someone else lived that!
Pound away your directors, script-writers, fighters
For miles and miles of stories remain unread
While the unknown remain in the grounds of humble malnourishment
Careers for the mind with a twist of the fable
Left us savage for the meal and the crumbs under the table
I can never let the raw truth rest
Naked, bare and empty—soothed
Nothing more or less
I cringed for originality
Observed the world through the unedited scripts
The very act, the poetry pact
The wild animal drooling in the back
I was slapped in the face by my boss who had cracked
As the reviews bloated less and less
They wanted something awful, something flaw-ful—something new
And this empty brain in agony—HISSED
I have lived in no epic battle of account
Of the collateral sufferings of my brothers
The stories the red carpet smothers
And still I ache to create
Before the other ones discover
I returned with ‘‘oh me’s’ and ‘oh my’s’’
With a work of pure genius—a storybook of lies
Nothing more or less
Little have I lacked to dream
Of contortioned pulls and dramatic fire
Stories that rarely brittle or tire
I fiddled with precious glass on edge
Foully eager for self-damage
As if it would trigger some legitimate spark
Searching for creatures and features in the dark
No one unlocked the passage that night
For the starving idea-parched malice of right
But all welcomed with open arms
A pale mannequin filled with jewels and charms
Consuming, fuming dooming
All ghosts hoping, screaming, looming
Hoping that one day they would find themselves on the big screen
Their legacy real as it can possibly get
Nothing more or less
No holds barred, utter defeat is what I see in those cards
No holds barred, utter defeat is what I see in those cards
It's a dirty world, but my heat's considered hand sanitizer
Made my dreams become reality, I'm not a big 'fanisizer'
My trap got cheese, but I'm trying to keep away rats
Life's a gamble, take a chance, like playing craps
Time to take you to school, and money's the topic
Smokin' on Jamaica helps me focus, I keep something tropic
Cash rules everything 'round me and it's in my pocket
That means I'm in control, if this was a plane, I'm in the cockpit
I'm a hustler, got more bricks than a construction site
I stay fresh, I'm flyer than a first-class flight
By any means necessary, hard times call for drastic measures
Get in my way, and get buried like pirate's treasures
Never see me fold, it's like I got the winning hand in Poker
I'm more dangerous than cancer in the lungs of a smoker
Talk crazy, catch a hook, how's that for a punchline
Show me the competition, I call that lunch-time