The Day After,
Day after day, I pray for our father to give this demon peace
Adam, I want you to know he does not bother me so,
His rage is on his own, not mine,
---tormented by a word, he plasters on his face
Words of sorrow, that haunted him for years
God Bless Him, and the thin skin he lives in
He has no ammo in that pistol he calls a pen
The movements, and the words he spews are too predictable
Come sit by my side Adam, let's enjoy another slice of apple pie
Together we can watch the mud splash from under his feet
Look at the way he enjoys eating spoiled grapes
From the hands of his mangled up paparazzi cameltoe hoarders
For who does he think he is, attacking essence, that don't suit him
Adam, I have no problem when this demon speaks in tongues
I laugh at the ones who follow and uproar, his roar,
Why this demon cries and lies all night long? ---LET THEM ENJOY!
Anything that helps him attract ridicule flies from the same nasty barrio
I can say hurtful things, that will anger the demon,
Give him, the real reason for vengeance
ADAM! I'd rather not, my words are poisonous enough
Too much for someone like him, who easily gets bent out of shape,
When it comes to paper and pen, this backstabbing demon
I've shown you my sword, the rage I can display, however that's not lady like
Even I was disgusted by the thoughts that pour from my golden pen
I killed, a world, and hung myself when spewing that 75 line verse
A poem, in which God, himself shut me up, and said "Eve What Have You Done!"
Walk away now, and never look back, that kind of slam is forbidden
Listen to the air, God is whispering, I need not to fight, a fight that's not worth it
Adam, this time let's trust the Lord'
Look how this demon's eyes, widen when we bite the strange fruit together
Forget about the worm in the apple, preying on dirty minds needing attention
At the end, he will notice, God is my witness and I'm under his protection
I move forward, not backwards, and I know how to turn the other cheek
Adam it's time to look away,
Let's make love like never before, let's continue to explore a world of love
A world made especially for ADAM & EVE
I may be fat but I can cook soul food to put you in a good mood I don't mean to be rude but you look like a string bean
You only know how to make sandwiches I can make steaks to take your breath away
you say I look like a steak but you can't even make a cake you need to drink more shakes
I need to eat more salads but at least I have a big wallet
I may be fat but I can dance your eyes are glued to my thighs are you hypnotize yet
Do you want to take a chance and try to beat me in dancing you can't defeat me
I can shake my hips and do flips I can drop it like its hot you can only pop that's not much
Oh, now you want to challenge me but you can't balance on the dance floor
The crowd wants to see me more you were just a bore
I may be fat but I'm the one who looks pretty in this skirt you look silly like Big Bert
You say I don't look good in a bikini because I'm not tiny but at least I'm not bony like you
You say I look like a buffalo but at least I don't have a problem finding a fellow
I don't mean to be a pest but you started this mess why don't you give it a rest
I'm fat but I'm telling you I'm the best you don't need to guess
I may be fat but I'm good at writing poetry
You say that you're good too but people are going to say boo to you
You say that isn't true and I need to pray because I won't win but I know I can
You say that people wouldn't pay cash to see me but they will chase me I have a nice ass
you say your poetry will get publish but that's only a wish I will you forgot to take your pills
Men want to be with me because I have meat on me you only have bones
You say that I don't look like a model but men want to play with me and pay me to date
I may be fat but I found a man who likes me like that but your man said you act like a brat
I'm getting married tomorrow don't feel sorrow
You can laugh but at least I'm glad that I'm not sad or bad and I'm not a brat so take that
"Gosh, you're such a freak."
"Did you wake up that ugly?"
You say to me.
I't become a daily ritual that we partake in.
You say what comes to that cruel,
And I sit,
telling myself I'll be home soon.
Just a few more hours.
Not the rest of my life.
"Must be hard to look in the mirror. Is it cracked by now? You're a monster."
I slide further into my desk,
waiting for you to leave, as you usually do.
I never look up,
too afraid to make eye contact.
That'd be too personal.
Yet you always find a way to get eye level with me so I can see the anger in your eyes;
masked is hurt, maybe,
pain from your own life as if belittling me helps any.
"Tomorrow. Same time as usual. Don't get any more beautiful on me."
You say, clearly kidding.
You finally walk away.
I exhale out,
letting the air I've been holding in escape.
I sigh and get up to leave.
Whatever I'm feeling I push down inside,
just like any other day.
I can't break.
Not now, not here.
I go home and head to my room.
Once there, I can feel.
Fear and frustration, cross my mind first.
Anger and agony, follow.
Sorrow and sadness, next.
Then come the tears.
Warm as they may be, they do nothing to warm my heart.
The words of the day always find a way to my memory.
Today was a mild day,
most are worst.
The tears continue for an hour,
tissues fill my bed.
Then they stop and I go on about my night,
always anticipating tomorrow.
The next day is the same.
Different day, similar names.
I try to feel nothing, but today I feel bitter.
Years of torment have changed me.
Allowed me to feel quiet inside until I want to feel.
At the end of of the day,
as we normally would part ways you ask,
"Why don't you just kill yourself?"
For once I look up,
"But I'm already dead."
-Dharga Nagar Safa
My Back,my home,
Back bone,it's roof like a camp pole
I carry my slice of bread on my back,
As a bread WINNER winning only the defeats in life,
With the mouth but without teeth,
The wound,no cure in health
Tell me anything to my heart,in front,
But don't back bite,
It is breaking not my heart but my back bone!
She's got words on her arms
In the language of a broken heart
And they say
They say I wanna be loved
But I don't know how
I wanna dream
Haven't done it in a while
I wanna smile
Won't somebody give me
Author's note: This is a poem about a close friend of mine. The "words on her arms" are an analogy, for well, cuts. She wouldn't talk to me much at the time, but I saw them and that was all that really needed to be said, since she knew she couldn't fool me. Anyway, that was the inspiration for this.
She is doing much better now, by the way, in case anyone was concerned...
(after Edgar Allan Poe's "The Angel of the Odd")
It was a tidy day and I sat, replete, under vellux blankets.
Sadly, my tea was weak, the bottle of cinnamon whiskey
tantalizingly low, and my feet swelling above my anklets.
So I was snippy one might say, zippy, flipping with zee...
from one screen to the next, oops, forgot! Poor Usain Bolt!
Yes, I took it out upon him. Dressed him first in bouncy hearts
cruel, I admit, and then purposefully fried him, let him float,
banged him, tripped him, let the sloth dine, and let out a fart.
Crude, I admit. Let's blame it on the tea, shall we? "I say not."
I sat up. Who had spoken to little old me, an old lady too weak
for any great villian with a booming voice. I blew out my snot,
found my glasses and good grief! The speaker made of teak.
Pseudo teak, my stereo a bit old. But leaning against the wall
fruity-kins wearing leotards when he should not, the belly
like a spiked watermelon. I admit I considered a sip at neck gall
but got turned off by papaya thighs, arms turned banana jelly.
Who are you, I squeaked, smushing low to hide like a flea.
"Zolar, the Inet God. Say, I wonder, are you a high roller?"
No, no, said I. No bingo, no slots, no high stake poker, just see...
"See? I see far too well. You let my buddy Usain go polar."
Tee hee. Just, um, fun and games. How about a nice slushy?
Yes, I admit it. With such as he, I couldn't help but imagine
giving a blender whirr, a smash and splash, sort of plushy.
With glee whee, off went vellux and I set to the kitchen.
The rum was old and watery, the vodka scummy at collar
and all went crash. Imagine the horror if you will, foot rot
in my fine spirits? My hoover sucked it without bother
and when I examined residue, found crumbs, hairs and a dot
of mushy raisins. So I googled on my phone with askance
how purify spirits? Zolar suggested kindly, "Try a colander."
A genius of the mash, a nonpariel of the objective chance.
My mind turned to such grater things I made my first blunder.
Who'd believe a fresh market reject could move with alacrity
I swung a hammer, missed his head, slipped on the slick floor.
The recoil hit my head, and I bled red vintage, singing a ditty,
Oh me, oh my. I'm gonna cry, while Zolar went out the door.
Not leaving my just desserts to chance, I slipped and slithered
rubbed my foot rot, and hopped after him, butcher knife in hand.
A beep from my iPhone and away he dodged, while I dithered
leading me, up, up and out to where it rained to beat the band.
It hit me then, just get close enough to hug Zolar, then push
he must have read my mind because he darted and I flew
head over heels, but thankfully over a branch like a lush
who did okay on the acrobatic bars, hair tangling in dew
covered maple leaves and my dismount worthy of a ten.
I mucked toward my door, my bare feet covered with mud
I opened the door, except it was locked, no window open.
I checked my pockets, found a lighter, snapped, a dud.
No phone, can you imagine? Even Usain Bolt wouldn't recover
such blasphemy as rain, muck, and maniac fruit without zen.
I now had an axe to grind and a green house to uncover.
My thirst now absurd, my mind stuck on might have been
I raged, thrashed through cabinets, seeking a bottle once stored
and found it. Amen. I uncapped it, took a deep swallow
Hot. Hot, hot! Immediately I upchucked, help me I implored
to the God of the Inet, Oh Zolar, call 911, don't let me wallow
It's cold, wet, dark and mucky, and here I'm all upchucky
I pounded on doors, they'd open, snap a flash then close
oh, woe, woe. I clutched my head, my throat, I'm ever so unlucky
to wish to slip into slushy and end up posted before repose.
A siren in the night grew and grew, then flashed beside me
a voice said, "Ma'am? Can you hold it right there, put your hands
overhead?" Sure, but bladder being bad I couldn't stop my wee wee
from dribbling down my leg, then my feet slipped unplanned.
That's how the news pictured me, along with neighborhood
postings, feet all asply, a phew of urine and of whiskey,
my hair filled with leaves, eyes black and blue, and would
you believe it? My hand rests on watermelon, me unable to flee.
I never go near the iNet, never search out or bash Usain Bolt.
The night of Zolar in mind, I even gave up cinnamon whiskey.
Because a fruit in hand is better than an axe to grind or a volt
from lightning, with tush grounded and no vellux to cover me.
Dont judge me for mistakes Ive made
Sins I have commited or games I have played,
Dont judge me for the things I say
Some things slip we have those days,
Do not judge me because of my past
Change happens but not always fast,
Dont judge me when i fall
For a matter of fact dont judge me at all
One Against Many
Where a man has a principle,
and a bug in his head
Forms a view that no matter what,
won’t go away
His heart will control
every thought, every thread
He’ll not veer from his stand,
by night nor by day
He will face up to those,
he believes to be wrong
He will speak from his corner
and wave placards
Stand there his ground,
ever straight, ever strong
Opposing the tyrants,
their ways and their guards
When the furies are gathered
to break like a storm
He will parry and fend
every threat that is thrown
His mind will not bend
by the weight of the scorn
But remember the giant
brought down by a stone
With no aim to destruct
or words to impose
Just a flame in the darkness
to shine there a light
Deep from the depths
where confusions shadows
May release, rise and soar
newly imagined flight
When the voice fades away,
to deaths calling of time
The actions are measured,
of those now set free
Who forged an alliance,
stood there in line
To judge by the means,
To the memory of Brian Haw
"It was a mistake", she said.
A tiny life swiped in seconds as
gods creation is rendered a
mere cluster of cells.
Returned back to heaven
hoping the return policy
It was a mistake; a stifled cry
A lifetime of progress,
innovation, and memories down
The notorious "what if"
squashed with plan b; no hopes
of a future.
A stifled cry
She could have cured cancer or
delivered world peace.
She could've fed the hungry
and housed the poor.
She could've been a Honors
Harvard medical school
graduate and your pride and
None are the magical christmas
mornings, first days of school,
Terminated are the memorable
first steps and momentous
coos calling for "mamma".
No more possibilities. Now a
"It was a mistake", she said.
A moment of carelessness and
selfishness translates into a life
Sent back into the arms of god.
An easy way out. A stifled cry.
When you have seen your buddy get beaten beyond recognition, you've seen enough
When you seen your baby girl crying so hard she lost her voice, you've seen enough,
When you've seen the receiving end of an M1 Abrams delivery of death, you've seen enough
When you've seen the look on your soul mates face that only you know she is hurt, you've seen enough
When you have seen the people you love the most disgusted with you , you've seen enough
when you've seen the guy in the mirror and you don't know who he is, you've seen enough
When I leave this world after seeing all of the above and my buddy has recovered, my baby girl is happy,
the War is over, my soul mate is happy and her pain is gone, the people I love are proud of me ,
and the guy in the Mirror is smiling back at me, as I know who he is now.
I have seen enough.
I wrote this after I saw people on line fighting with some one I love because I want every one to see that there is so much hate and anger and violence and despair in this world haven't we all seen enough ?
I know I have. My Grandfather had three words written on his grave stone. Love one Another, he was in the First World War , and you would think this world would have also seen enough ?