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Long poem by Ken Jordan | Details |

Watts Is Burning

Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Watts Is Burning
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: July/2014


Run children run!
Run sister run!
Run brother run!

Run for your guns

We ain't backing down
Not this time -

Run through
the
poisoned 
 black smoke,

that
permeates
through
Watts -

Run pass
the
looting,

Run down
the
land mine
streets,

Run pass
the house
that's 
no longer
your home -

Run for your guns
Fight for your life -

The Army 
is here,

and

they aim
to kill -

Run run run -

fire is raging......

down every
street
in
our community -

Watts 
is
burning,

And

The powers
that be,

show no
interest
in

putting out
the
flames -

Run children run -
Run sister run -
Run brother run -

Run for your guns
We ain't backing down
Not this time -

Civil War is here -

Hell fire has erupted -

Set ablaze
by 
our city's,

racial
government
of 
bigots,

that are
intolerant
to
black people.

Police
 brutality,
is at 
an
all-time
high -

and
the rotten
stench 
of
racism 
has ran
it's
course -

Run children run
Run sister run
Run brother run

Run for your guns
We ain't backing down -
Not this time -

Watts
Rebellion
is
here!

Today
we write
history -

today we die.

We want 
the
world
to see,

that 
we are
standing up
for our
rights,

 against
 a corrupt 
city
government -

We 
have endured 
enough 
adversity,

Our
turning point
is now -

Our revolution 
is now -

We are fighting 
for
our Civil Rights,

Equal Rights
Equal Pay,

A Right To
Vote -

Better Living
Conditions,

And
Fare Housing,

We are fighting
for
our lives -

Run children run -
Run sister run -
Run brother run -

Run for your guns
We ain't backing down
Not this time -

Watts,
is
burning.

Racial
Discrimination,

has
 cloaked
our city.......

choked
It,

and

strangled
it.

Dark plumes
of
smoke,

from gunfire
explosives,
and
hazardous 
gases,

sends
a
disturbing 
wave
of
Shock
over the
T.V.
screen,

to
Millions
of
people
watching
around 
the
World -

The
LAPD
and
the National 
guard -

Have 
surrounded
us -

We want
 back down -

Blood is
shedding,

white blood -
black blood -

on our
streets -

The city's
racial 
bureaucratic
machine,

have
moved in
to
barricade
 us,

to our
neighborhood's,

leaving 
one way in,
one way out -

Leaving
us
no choice

accept
to
fight -

And
Watts,
continue to
burn -

We continue 
to
burn,

with anger
and
frustration.

The Chief
of
Police,

have
turned 
his
head,

to
our situation,

as fire
rages
all around.

The injured
and
dead

are pilling 
up -

Emergency
vehicles
have been

ordered 
to
stay away,

the
situation
is
too volatile -

Everything 
is
out 
of
control .......

We 
Are Out
Of
Control.

Watts
is
burning -

Run children run
Run sister run 
Run brother run

Run for your guns
We ain't backing down
Not this time

HELL
is
unleashed

In
South
L.A.

on
a people,

born in this
country.

We
are 
fed up,

we
have had
enough 

of
the
piss poor
treatment,

from
white
slum lords,

and

red tape
from 
racial city
authorities,

insisting 
that

poverty
stricken

Compton,
and
Watts,

is 
the only
affordable 
area's,

where 
we
could live -

City official's
and
state government,

has
rejected any 
and
all
legal demands
by
black leaders,

fighting
to 
better

our 
living
conditions.

By
taking
this stand,

arrogant,
racist whites,

Struck
a
match
to

Watts,
riot -

burn baby burn

let Watts,
burn
to
ashes -

Black Ashes,

cremated
by
bigots 

in
uniforms,

masquerading 
as
human beings -

Watts,
is 
burning

and 

will
continue
to
burn.

Burn baby burn!

Let it burn
to 
Black Ashes

HELL FIRE!
will burn,

until
liberty
is 
won -

Run children run
Run sister run
Run brother run

Stand up black people,
We ain't backing down

Not this time -













Long poem by Ken Jordan | Details |

Watts Is Burning

Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: Watts Is Burning
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: July/2014


Run children run!
Run sister run!
Run brother run!

Run for your guns

We ain't backing down
Not this time -

Run through
the
poisoned 
 black smoke,

that
permeates
through
Watts -

Run pass
the
looting,

Run down
the
land mine
streets,

Run pass
the house
that's 
no longer
your home -

Run for your guns
Fight for your life -

The Army 
is here,

and

they aim
to kill -

Run run run -

fire is raging......

down every
street
in
our community -

Watts 
is
burning,

And

The powers
that be,

show no
interest
in

putting out
the
flames -

Run children run -
Run sister run -
Run brother run -

Run for your guns
We ain't backing down
Not this time -

Civil War is here -

Hell fire has erupted -

Set ablaze
by 
our city's,

racial
government
of 
bigots,

that are
intolerant
to
black people.

Police
 brutality,
is at 
an
all-time
high -

and
the rotten
stench 
of
racism 
has ran
it's
course -

Run children run
Run sister run
Run brother run

Run for your guns
We ain't backing down -
Not this time -

Watts
Rebellion
is
here!

Today
we write
history -

today we die.

We want 
the
world
to see,

that 
we are
standing up
for our
rights,

 against
 a corrupt 
city
government -

We 
have endured 
enough 
adversity,

Our
turning point
is now -

Our revolution 
is now -

We are fighting 
for
our Civil Rights,

Equal Rights
Equal Pay,

A Right To
Vote -

Better Living
Conditions,

And
Fare Housing,

We are fighting
for
our lives -

Run children run -
Run sister run -
Run brother run -

Run for your guns
We ain't backing down
Not this time -

Watts,
is
burning.

Racial
Discrimination,

has
 cloaked
our city.......

choked
It,

and

strangled
it.

Dark plumes
of
smoke,

from gunfire
explosives,
and
hazardous 
gases,

sends
a
disturbing 
wave
of
Shock
over the
T.V.
screen,

to
Millions
of
people
watching
around 
the
World -

The
LAPD
and
the National 
guard -

Have 
surrounded
us -

We want
 back down -

Blood is
shedding,

white blood -
black blood -

on our
streets -

The city's
racial 
bureaucratic
machine,

have
moved in
to
barricade
 us,

to our
neighborhood's,

leaving 
one way in,
one way out -

Leaving
us
no choice

accept
to
fight -

And
Watts,
continue to
burn -

We continue 
to
burn,

with anger
and
frustration.

The Chief
of
Police,

have
turned 
his
head,

to
our situation,

as fire
rages
all around.

The injured
and
dead

are pilling 
up -

Emergency
vehicles
have been

ordered 
to
stay away,

the
situation
is
too volatile -

Everything 
is
out 
of
control .......

We 
Are Out
Of
Control.

Watts
is
burning -

Run children run
Run sister run 
Run brother run

Run for your guns
We ain't backing down
Not this time

HELL
is
unleashed

In
South
L.A.

on
a people,

born in this
country.

We
are 
fed up,

we
have had
enough 

of
the
piss poor
treatment,

from
white
slum lords,

and

red tape
from 
racial city
authorities,

insisting 
that

poverty
stricken

Compton,
and
Watts,

is 
the only
affordable 
area's,

where 
we
could live -

City official's
and
state government,

has
rejected any 
and
all
legal demands
by
black leaders,

fighting
to 
better

our 
living
conditions.

By
taking
this stand,

arrogant,
racist whites,

Struck
a
match
to

Watts,
riot -

burn baby burn

let Watts,
burn
to
ashes -

Black Ashes,

cremated
by
bigots 

in
uniforms,

masquerading 
as
human beings -

Watts,
is 
burning

and 

will
continue
to
burn.

Burn baby burn!

Let it burn
to 
Black Ashes

HELL FIRE!
will burn,

until
liberty
is 
won -

Run children run
Run sister run
Run brother run

Stand up black people,
We ain't backing down

Not this time -













Long poem by dave archuletta | Details |

Part Two, I Am Not Racisim, She Is

         “And no, car-jackings – sir, do not count as kidnappings!” [Adding in a fast voice…]
         “Especially, after a nigga be looking in the rear view and seeing a fat little black kid already belted up in the back seat – and this kid is now starting to scream his lungs out!”
         “Hell, I always hear of these ‘Karjack Kids’ being dumped off – not at the first, but the second street corner just inside any big city hood. …this is a place where EVERYBODY steers clear of these little tyrants. …Now, why is this you say?”  
       “Well, I think that as innocent sidewalk pedestrian passerby, we’ve all been hardened by the following of incidence at one time or another.” 
          “And I’m not talkin bout a ‘Drive BY’! Because this ain’t one of those ‘cap yo’ ass for no reason why – bye, bye! It’s more of a ‘See ya’ later alligator - shove a kid from off the floor - and out the door and inta the street kinda fly by!’” [Crowd laughs]
        “…And we all know what happens next - right?”
 “Yeah, ca’mon’ I know ya’lI do…, hell, we’ve all lived it!”
         “This is because just like in any crowded Hood, we black people have never really come off strong in the Good Samaritan department. - Man we just – like - mind our own goddamn business! …And please Madonna - just leave us the f#&# alone!” [Crowd roars]
          “…You see, it will be people like her – these, even with good intentions of adopting, as to why you will soon hear of a black baby having been kidnapped for a ransom.” 
        “You see, it was never going to happen here in this country until these white kidnappers, - yes people, I said white kidnappers, - and they changed what we black folk had already long known,  …It was because in this country, until now anyway, we already knew there wasn’t a Black Market for a black man to sell black adopted babies…” [Crowd laughs]
        “A king’s ransom for a black kid…, hmmm?”
        “Man, that’s a whole lotta earmarked money; …and all of it reserved for a greedy Cracker Kidnapper with a human trafficking license!” [While disgustingly laughing himself] …Hell, and even if there ever were any black kidnappers, they still would’ve had to take care of any kid. This would include any found fat black kid kicked to a street curb after his daddy’s Ford Pinto got car jacked! And really, had that risk to a reward of possibly nothing - ever been so entertained by us?” 
        “Yes, I think so…, you know what I mean, like I said earlier, we’ve all been there man! Umm hmm…” [Rubs his ear as if it hurts....]
“…It probably went down something like this: Two black pedestrians be walking down the street, when one of them, a little boy, says, ‘Hey grandma look at that kid sitting over there, he’s all alone and looks hungry! We should…! Hey! don’t he look like my little broth…’ …Whereby now, grandma’s fingers, having already latched firmly onto this grandson by the ear – pulls him along while saying, ‘No, no, no child, there are plenty of social workers around willing to take that little fat black boy to lunch! Child, what are you thinking anyway? Your momma ain’t no Angelima Jolie - ya know… so let’s go watch from over there!’”
       “And as for Madonna, she came back straight from the source!”

Written by David Archuletta


Long poem by Scribbler Of Verses | Details |

For Pete Seeger Huddie Leadbelly Ledbetter and Woody Guthrie

For Pete Seeger, Huddie ‘Leadbelly’ Ledbetter and Woody Guthrie


it was a long time ago
when you put your words into song

'this machine surrounds hate and forces it to surrender' you scribbled on your old guitar

and you wielded that banjo & guitar as weapons, 

fiddling out a hail of truth

of solidarity

of angry, vehement calls for peace

you said of Leadbelly, that that Huddie Ledbetter was a helluva man

you sang and spoke through dust clouds and relief lines

you taught us all, to seek out hope wherever we can

and when they tried to call all of you goddamned reds

you sang on ever louder and louder, rattlin' their prejudices as they slept in their plush beds

you rode and you rambled and thumbed your way around

the land that is my land and your land too

for you believed all this earth was shared common ground

and when you sang of overcoming one day

the injustice and pain that you witnessed along the way

they further branded you a commie, a pinko or a nigger-lover or a jew-lover, or an enemy of the state

while your banjo and your guitars continued to surround their blind hate

'this machine kills fascists' you etched on that guitar as well

but they were all deaf, for they could not hear the tolling of the bell

'the bell of freedom

the hammer of justice

the song of love between your brothers and your sisters'

and they knew not that they were the ones who would sizzle in their own bigoted hell

and then came the marches and you were there too

with dr. king in Birmingham and Selma, and you faced their spit, their venomous rage, their clubs and sticks and knives, but you always knew

that your cause was just and that the truth must one day prevail

however long it may take, you never gave up, you sang and you marched and you strummed yourselves, victoriously, into their jail

and then they shot him, they shot Dr. King dead, as they burnt and lynched many more

yet you stood firm, you never wavered, your blood was red after all, and they could not tarnish the truth's core

and so it came to pass, that woody went on his way, to his pastures of plenty up in the sky

and Huddie too, said his last and final goodbye

and you were then one, and you may have felt alone and overwhelmed, by the battles and with all that was wrong

but then you saw that the people were with you 

as they had been, all along

and so you continued to fiddle with that old banjo

dragging it through Newport and Calcutta and Dar-es-Salaam

and through countless unknown halls in numberless unknown towns

across this earth, turning, slowly, putting smiles of togetherness, on faces that were once pock-marked with disillusioned frowns
so...
today as I jot down these poorly scribbled words for all of you
for Woody, Huddie, and Pete
I do so in gratitude, for after all the travails that you've been through
I know that you know that this world still has its fair share of hate, and of loss and of injustice and of gloom
but I also know that you know that though all the old flowers may have gone
there always will be, as there always must be,

a fresh flower somewhere, that will quietly bloom.


Long poem by Gary Fields | Details |

Will A Divided House Stand In any Land

@one must have lived
on both' sides of
justice to be fully
exposed...gf


There are so many
     languages'
There are oh! So
many plans'
But, in this day of
confusion..
Can it really
stand....
     ------
Their are those who
live in the shadow
There are those who
are on top!
Many have faith in
the interest of
justice
I say some-times' it
is merely just a
plot!
   ----- Now think
about that ----
           
----------
Do you live in a
state of justice
Or in a state of
police...
Where your strife is
minimal
And pales' beyond
belief
           ---------
Can you go out at
   ? ...night!
With-out subscribing
of your plight
Hence:  the fear of
going out at night
            -------
This reflects' the
type of judgement
That which you
subscribe
too....

A issue shrouded
in black and white
A deadly combination
of the many social
wrongs' or
rights'...
         Where the
truth comes' to the
light
       ----
As a human body lay
riddled in the heat
and stench
of the night....
          --------
If you are stopped
in a store to-day
Do you expect to
make it home?
        -Or-
Are you subjected
to the night?
Where justice is
swift a constant
norm!
     - Only...
To end up at the
business end of
justice...!

To the end of
justice....!
contrary to
your life.... 

 Only to be pondered
upon as a
creature in that
laboratory of
life...
Where you your-self
have just payed
The supreme price
from a flash of
justice
That threatens' to
end your life...
         .......... 
Where some-one else
in his unique 
......since of
justice amend to
take your life
(Some-call it a snap
decision only... it
is
        .......not
such a snap to take
another life) later
deemed 
to be call a mishap
in the name of
protecting life
I still say' maybe
we are
acting on a little
bad advice
         -----
justifiable murder
In the name of our
Constitution....  
Needless too say,
Is this the best
solution?

Who's constitution
dare I choose?

Your life
choked-off,
filled full of
holes'
With a truth slowly
delivered....
only God knows'
just exactly
What has just
transposed...
     .... And the
reason why so many
should die....
          ------
Who's brand of
justice would you
survive...  In that
vain' instance
Just to stay
alive....
      -Or-
 which do you
care.... to defend?

Would it be
attributed to the
feat of justice 
Or will it be just
us?

Or to the
determination of the
life of just another
Young innocent
man..... Or that
breath of justice
From which he did
truly depend...

To abide and to
trust in....

The accomplishment
of man... Awh! Yes,

The truth depends'
on the end of the
sword
That which is in
your hand..... With
the meter
of justice that we
are
willing to
defend....

That brand of
justice that which
you may call upon
for the sake of your
fellow man!



Poet/Author
Gary Fields
Censored in Contrast







Long poem by Vee Bdosa | Details |

MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE AND THE BLACK LADY

   MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE and THE BLACK LADY
Just south of Paris, lives the soul of me,
at my chateau, where few will ever see,
I'm compensated for the way
death lingers on from day to day
and makes each night a night of tragedy.

   All dark as hell, from trees that block the light
   so as to make the day deep as the night
   I'm free to come, and free to go,
   without the sun that hurts me so
   and this, my home, is hidden from all sight.

Now I would never have you think my way
is shunning life, and hiding from the day,
and though I live a tragedy,
it's quite the way I'd have life be,
as all alone leads only to decay.

   One night I'd settled in for mystery,
   my candle lighting words my mind could see,
   and authored by a lightning mind,
   I knew his words were of my kind
   and as I turned my pages, what should be?

All feminine, the hesitating sound
of just a tapping, to the door it's found,
of fingers slim, but in distress,
she should be home, that was my guess,
but still I raised myself to stand my ground.

   Anticipating what--I didn't know--
   for what fair damsel knocked at my chateau?
   And so I grasped my deringer
   all cocked and ready, as it were,
   and set upon the path where I should go.

The tapping grew to be quite indescrete
and hurried, as if one about to meet
a harsh and catastrophic end
without the slightest hope or friend,
and so I pulled the door, but braced my feet.

   December winds came freezing to my skin
   and lightning lit the winter nights' begin,
   an omen I supposed to be
   a blessing of the night for me,
   and so I welcomed her, and asked her in.

She shed her wrap, one tatterred by the years
but fondly placed it to my hands, in tears,
and dark was she, as any night
her skin so black, a blessed sight
for beauty's in beholding what appears.

   There showed no blood, upon her neck for me,
  No, not a mark was there that I could see,
   and questions raced all through my head
   if hers was warm, and damp, and red?
   Or did her blood flow black--how could that be?

What brought her tears, once placed into the past,
I set upon to make here smile at last,
and asked her if she'd like to stay
at my chateau, near Poitiers,
and spend the night, for it was waining fast.

   Of all the beauty, ever to be here,
   in all  my life, not one could come so near
   as when her cloth fell to her feet
   in candlelight, love made complete
   by flesh and blood, as dark as they appear.

My mark was bit, and I could feel the flow
of blood that made my heart not want to know
an end to this, a special night
so red that flowed from just the bite,
but dark as sin--I begged she never go!

   So overcome with joy of all she was
   my pounding heart gave in to just because.
   I drank of her until she knew
   the bite for her great living through
    eternal dying, lacking what death does.
                            © ron wilson aka veebdosa the Doylestown Poet


Long poem by madhavi suyog pagare | Details |

The Intensifying love story

The Intensifying love story by 
Madhavi.S.Pagare
 
I simply adore you, my Mesmerizing 
Persona.
As you are my first love.
Who lighted my heart with full of pride and 
joy.
Who ignited the ecstasy towards lovely life.
Who relieved my pains and took sorrows 
as boon.
You made me fall sick in your love when I 
see your madness.
I like the way,
The way you gazed at me and my smoky 
eyes.
The way you smiled at my mystifying and 
enigmatic appeal.
The way you every time praises me.
The way you galvanized me and proved 
the meaning of life.
You are the one,
Yes, you are the one who aroused my 
feelings, my emotions.
Yes, you are the one who explored my 
passion of love, flaming in my charismatic 
soul.
Yes, you are the lovely treasure which god 
had baptized me.
Yes, you are the one who turned the page 
of my life.
Eureka, I found my true love!!!!
Bewilderedly I did not know, where is my 
love taking me to ??
But still I like the way,
Like, the way you clutched me into your 
arms.
Like, the way you kissed my palms.
Like, the way you hugged me, caressed 
me.
Like, the way you rubbed your fingers on 
my lips.
Like, the way you tickled me on my neck.
Like, the way you squeezed my cheeks.
Like, the way you holded me up towards 
the sky.
Like, the way when you inspired me to fly 
so high.
Tears dropped from my eyes and the very 
next moment I realized that it is my 
sensational love. My true love. Then I 
decided that no one had right to do this 
except you. If you want to know the 
reason?? If yes??
Yes, because I seriously fell in love with 
you.
Yes, because you are the one to whom god 
had assigned me to.
And here comes the Swifted instance 
when??
When, the moment you wore the golden 
ring in my finger and I was happily waving 
around.
Just can’t forget the time when our long 
lasting friendship turned into lifetime 
relationship.
It was just the blooming of two lover’s 
indicating the herald of the marriage. It 
means a lot for any girl in this amazing 
world.
And yes, you will always find my heart 
topped with love showered only for you. 
For you!!
And till my last breathe, my heart beats, 
beating for you, only for you SUYOG!!
In fervour I wanted you to be mine forever, 
forever.
We both sojourned in each other soul so 
deeply that we just can’t wait for a single 
second, unless and until, we share what is 
running in our mind. It’s just because we 
are so much accustomed to each other 
now. 
I Love you, adore you, adore you forever 
my Love.


Long poem by Latosha Mitchell | Details |

Who Cares

Since when did people not care anymore?
Sure, their were some
Unseen or barely there
But now people all over just don't care
How they dress,
How they talk,
What they do
To themselves or to you
Fashion has become a disaster
Modeled by unqualified idiots
Which I can't understand
Because it's not that hard to master
I walk around this prison playground
And watch all the immature thugs
With their pants hanging down
Showing their dingy boxers
Playing with their tricks
Who's only after a good d**k
That's probably been through so many neighborhood bushes
It's going to take more than douches
To clean the nasty infection
Left from his erection
But these girls these days
Don't know about early detection
There are so many walking diseases
You have the "Pist. .. ", and the "hey ma" diseases
And the well known, "Yo shorty" disease
You have to watch out for
I can't take it anymore
Feel like I need to get out of town
But they're everywhere like the green grass
That grows all around, all around
Of which they smoke
And blow in my face and
All around and around
These inconsiderate fiends
Hang on the corners
And cause scenes
Up to no good
With no hopes of a better way
Because they're quote, “from the hood”
That's the same excuse June Bug used last week
The day before he was shot
But his brother just graduated college
And no one cares how far he's got
Because people are lazy
And are not trying to get up out the hood
Nowadays
Who cares about an education?
But hell
Why should they?
When ignorance is sweeping the nation
I mean, since when did tweeted
Become the past tense of twitter?
I hate to sound bitter
But look
Between that and Facebook
We have new generation geniuses
At least they think they are
Because they keep daily reports/ autobiographies,
(Like who cares),
On these sites
And now they think they can write
I.D.K. what's going on,
Even though some entries make me want to L. O. L
It's no longer funny when kids grow up
Thinking that's really how you spell.
But this is what the world's coming to
No one cares
More and more people crying
Because there's more and more people dying
I'm constantly asking why and
I don't know why
Because no one hears me
So I try and I try
To make sense of it all
But there's no sense
In nonsense
And nothing will change
If all I have is ten cents
Due to the damn recession
But still money talks
And the more you have
The louder your voice is
So can someone please spare some change
To help me deliver this message"!


Long poem by Norey Bailey | Details |

What It Wasn't

It wasn’t because You didn’t have a car
It wasn’t because you weren’t a star
It wasn’t because you wasn’t a king but you were a Lion in my heart
Food for thought It was ya smile Ya walk
It was that scent (u left) when you had already went 
But left ya presence behind
Wasn’t that you didn’t have but a dime and some nickels in not only the bank
It wasn’t even the fact that somedays ya breath stank
It wasn’t about the fact that at times I hated to love you
It wasn’t the night I found out you were able to lie
It wasn’t the time I noticed your wondering eyes
It was the fact that you could be honest
It was the reason you wanted things to be closest to perfect
Don’t got nothing to do with the text messages I went through
Couldn’t have been the times you didn’t do what I wanted you to do
However you did things I couldn’t ever do
Spoke ya mind, Touched my spine, You aint the one
Not Yet You need time to collect
Again it wasn’t ya hairline that made me say yes
Wasn’t even the wedding dress
That still hangs untainted in my closet
Ain’t the days that pass that I don’t hear ya voice
Some things I would change if I had a choice
You know what
It wasn’t even strawberries that disappear like the words I love you to places they should
never go to  
Damn it wasn’t even the sleepless nights 
When we was doing wrong knowing it wasn’t right
It is the fact that you taught me that I have a choice
It was the opinions made prominent by your voice
It’s not the fact that you had to find ya way without a shadow 
I can’t even say that 
I think I’d give anything to stand in the darkness talking more than a half a decade ago
Before we learned what bills were and diamond rings
Before I forgot that I am a dream come true
But not right now to you
It’s not that you go out with your boys and still play with toys
It’s the commitment that you omit to realize is YOUR recited “Joy”
This lady ain’t as pretty as you think
I do some ugly things
I’m writing this like my “shiit” don’t stink
I don’t like pink
Can’t speak my mind out side of ink
Can’t stop over whelming you with every bit of me
Can’t stop letting you deposit in the pit of me
Can’t stop being ya checklist
Don’t want to not be there when you witness the birth of ya kid
No I didn’t fall for that “first kiss”
You was playing me too
And I’m a fool cause I let you
Yeah I was dumb to play stupid
I know more than you think I did
Wasn’t that the whole point of being a part of ya life?
My only question is why did you ask Me to be ya wife?



Long poem by Mario Vitale | Details |

Heavy Metal

The heavy metal series of poetry demonstrates an inner ability to speak words of 
kindness; Toward the resolve of the 1980's heavy metal scene; To demonstrate a 
reasonable high calibur of interest; To the average novice of intellect, It's plausible 
words ring in the ears;

Heavy Metal pt. I

In a torn branch withered in the wind

A silence toward its beckoning call
With a silver dollar tossed in a pool
It pays to stay focused then to lose your cool
The one that has no faith in God will lose their cool

Ronnie James Dio was the first ever to address this rule,

His was to slay the dragon in the rule of the game;
In shattered lined that wound & bind
A silence to its beckoning call;
The child listens then cry's in pain,


In ardent briars close to insane;

With cloves filled wretched stench in sulfur,
Amidst the closet drawer below the offer;
A deadly fix on the mainstream headlong,
Heavy metal in twisted leather chains,

Through shattered dreams within vilest pain,

In its ambiance of shelter amidst its cry;

To fall headlong then to believe its ultimate lie!

Faces in the window with storms in the night;

Having fallen face down in viscous fangs that bite,
Often dripping blood off side;
So easy to run away & hide in the night
With a heavy metal pull ravaged to plunder;

~

Heavy Metal pt. II

In full view of havoc proned to desolation in vile misery

The balance of an equestrian melody,
With pages torn on its new episode
Throgh a whole host in vile lamentation;
In mere brilliance from its setting sun

Amidst certain periods of social demise;

A short fuse in its reluctant quest,
With words spoken in the dark in certain conquest
Has now come into the fullness of light soaring bright
Chase dreams from your hair my sweet child chose the day;

To stand up and shout amidst the inner pain,

Shattered dreams amidst its painted glass yet intact
Hallways filled no one gets off on any free pass;
Faces in the window with storms in the night,
A laborer is intended to enter into its fullest of rest;

Faces in the window with storms in the night !

Heavy metal in the center of its scattered plight

The clear voice in reason is our successful right,
In this life never relent in ever giving up on the fight,
Keep your promises & attire,
We live in a world that is very strange!

They will take advantage & rearrange in the membrane,
Desolate cry's with wounded twisted lies;
Proned to silence amidst the greeting of its beckoning call


Long Poems