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Best Poems Written by Contact Us.Aspx

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123
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Intuitive Visions

In my life I have seen infinitesimal good I ponder all the time why is life so unkind. I live my 
life the best way that I could, but someone always despised where I stood. 

The competitiveness of young life is all understood striving for things in time seems to 
infatuate their minds. But as time goes by things of luxury aren’t so appealing to the eye, 
remembering you can’t take it with you when you die.

Hard to find is total peace of mind, many spectral races in the populous faces. Through the 
crowd with great haste, life as we know it has been thrown off pace.
 
Acknowledged through space and time like being blind living in the third eye, the mind. 
Seeing all through a sense of what is felt hitch up and tighten your belt. 

To predict see and feel what I dreamt before it happens what a gift bestowed unto me my 
heart is rapture. For me this is true and for it I have been called the voice of doom, seeing 
the other side of another’s happiness or gloom. 

My forewarnings to heed no one listens until they bleed, then they look at me and plead; 
what will happen next you sleaze? I can’t see things all the time but when I do, give notice to 
what happens as time passes. 

I can’t help it when I feel it you must know the truth, in healing of pain what I say will not be 
in vain. I help myself when I let these feelings go I am not that braggadocio. 





James C Bryant Jr. 
							   
May 11, 2002

Copyright © James C Bryant Jr. | Year Posted 2010



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Creeping Darkness

I look and listen to all that’s around the view from where I’m standing seems like a mound. 
If you see what I see and are no kin to me we are free to be given an aura of chi?  

Being humble and meek but not considered a sneak what spies the eye I silently seek. 

Ghostly In style never cracking a smile I absorb all that I see my vision is limited to me, 
blind I am going to be. 

Hearing growing sharp chirping song birds in the park keeps me with a spark my spirit happy 
and lark, the lord has all of my heart. 

I take nothing for granted my feet are ground and planted, where I am in life is where I’ll be 
abundant resources are available to me. 

Very few friendships relying on kinship the night owl hoots sirens and car horn always toot, 
my vision is tunneling all my money is funneling. 

Glaucoma has a will the eye drops and pills keep the pressure almost to nil all I can do is 
upgrade my skill until someday my main purpose I can fulfill. 

The meaning is clear my vision is not inflammation has me seeing black floaters and spots, 
the years of sight I have left I know not. 

							
James C Bryant Jr.
								     
July 4, 2010

Copyright © James C Bryant Jr. | Year Posted 2010

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She's Getting Tired

Shadows fade setting with the sun; life’s growing rage maybe there should be none.
Forlorn feelings, omens foretold too come.
 
Will our planet succumb to radical change burning out under the sun? Or left in the cold 
frozen and numb, taking decades to recover from.

Pivotal swing with pendulum arc, fresh water flows unbalancing the NAC leaving a mark.
Wandering survivors have not a clue, the climate has  changed and it’s not through.
 
Total and complete there’s no need to compete; those with resources will have plenty to eat. 
Eclipse during the time of equinox rebirth of killer viruses including bubonic plague and small 
pox. 

The earthquakes, tsunamis, and cyclonic breaks our earth doesn’t like the way we’ve treated 
her, she aches.

Through man’s thoughtless but painful plight, she has no other way to fight. 

Through catastrophic weather and drastic climate change, she drives home her point being 
most inhumane.



James C Bryant Jr.
							
January 15, 2010

Copyright © James C Bryant Jr. | Year Posted 2010

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I Forgive Them

I forgive my antagonist from the beginning to end, there are so many my heart never did 
mend.

From a time way back when only I remember, left my heart chilled like the month of 
December.

I never knew why I was hazed and hassled so; so I write to forgive you so that I may let go. 
Writing of this takes me back and angers me; vivid and sharp are the memories of torture to 
me. 

Set afire one time held and beaten on another the memories I have you don’t wish on each 
other.

So I write this short verse, wishing you well without curse. 
Immersed in pain and solitude I will not be construed given the time all this happened I 
should have lost this attitude.
 
I forgive you all without a doubt leaving it in the hands of the Lord he has all my clout. 
There’s no need for me to search and take you out…

						
James C Bryant Jr.
						
July 15, 2010

Copyright © James C Bryant Jr. | Year Posted 2010

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Ego

In this life I have lived, always told to me while I was young try to excel in something for 
someone, or just yourself. 

My code and standard is a rigid one no one will come close to what I have done. 
 
Out of all the people that have ever lived I feel myself to be better still. 
 
My heart is in the wrong place and my head is on wrong, it is my moment of ego that keeps 
me this narcissistically strong. 

I have a strong body and a very bright mind, how dare they ignore me they all must be 
blind. 

And on one sunny day I will have my say, having my way to make them pay, and see things 
my way. 

The Egomaniac…






James C Bryant Jr.

December 14, 200

Copyright © James C Bryant Jr. | Year Posted 2010



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Harmony of Yellow

Inside the spectral being there are many auras besides the blue, red, green, brown and the 
white, why must we fight. 
	
Prospering sterling long enough to experience a change in shade is what we’d all truly love, 
jaded are we all, that’s not from above.   
	
Harmony and love in the gold make everyone cruel and cold with nothing to hold but the 
gold, growing old and bold hollow in soul. 
	
The olden times that are so wished for by white are long gone, replaced by an orange purple 
toxic haze that blinds the light. 

But is beautiful at the time of dusk, how ironically sick our pollutants are that thick. 

By his creation America has changed opaque, ever so blind and radically so, or didn’t you 
know? 

The average tan hangs on the colored end of the optical race, shunned by the deviant skin 
on their face. 

Those of you, who are greedy green enough to flourish, do so in style as to nourish the gray 
side of a burgundy cloud. 

Made up of similar mental elements we all are, but it seems as if all things have gone too 
far. 

Living well in the red and the black they never condescend or even look back, it separates 
the professional from the hack. 

True peace and harmony comes I believe in the yellow, as does warmth from the sun, when 
all can enjoy life and be mellow. 

In God’s realm of peace, the harmony of yellow. 




							
James C Bryant Jr.
					
December 16, 2001

Copyright © James C Bryant Jr. | Year Posted 2010

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A Vision of Light

A captured heart with the warmth of a beautiful smile, meeting you from the start viewing 
you as God’s work of human art.
 
The softest word sounds an angel’s voice, making me feel him in my heart in knowing you I 
rejoice. 

A God fearing woman you live by the word, and every once in a while you flip someone the 
bird. 

Young and beautiful you are a vision from afar kind and helpful in mind all men look and say 
you are fine. 

God has blessed you in a feminine role, all women you are in one vision my heart you stole. 
Smooth golden brown skin, Nubian brilliance in color sweet as the berries in the trees that 
hover. 

Picking ripe fruit tasting it and enjoying its nectar, your love to me would be excellent it will 
never fester. 

	In the vision I see you encompass all women to me…	
				
						
James C Bryant Jr.
						
July 15, 2010

Copyright © James C Bryant Jr. | Year Posted 2010

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Buried Bones

Spur the moment flashes the motivation for most of the human race. Having fun but leaving 
no trace, death occurs at a rapid pace.
	
Cover your ass and save your face, seems to be the motto of our American taste. 
	
Living with out shame or guilt has kept most warm under their quilt, walking high on stilts. 
	
Sweeping under the rug all of our silt, with a closet full of bones sheltering a host of many 
wrongs. We all know that song. 
	
Our country has lied to all from every side; there are some things we shouldn’t digest from 
the inside, without causing panic of a riotous riptide. 
	
This place will devour itself in a matter of time; the ravenous mass that is without esteemed 
class shall run over all say the last. 
	
Make haste that we don’t waste what we have worked so hard to taste, forsaken are those 
unplaced. 
	
The story is old and always foretold, buried bones haunt the mind till one is old. 
    
 

					
James C Bryant Jr.
					
January 8, 2002

Copyright © James C Bryant Jr. | Year Posted 2010

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New Life

Strange the feeling is new found life, after being close to the blackness where there is no 
strife. 

Living through an episode gives one more trust, of better things in spirit a destiny to come. 

Sailing a ship raising a black sail, unknown is the journey before lifting the veil. 

A feeling of death being so far under, but dreams of freedom to come from strength of what 
one can wonder.
 
Left with a thought of an oncoming terror of what was to be, captured a brilliance that was 
shown unto thee.
 
Sailing a new ship with a bright new sail and a broadening horizon through a vision of mind 
entailed.
 
Mature decisive posted ordered and defined, obstacles what are for most painful through 
time. 

They come and they go, as life’s needs flow, given the right method to life as we know.
 
Given a gift of psychological amends, good things all around the bounty has no end. 

Concentration drawn to a narrow focus a visible path shown to many but never spoken.
 
Eyes tell a story from old to young from the pain of rapture etched and engraved in the mind 
of the master.
 
Feeding off will to live strong hearts beat faster, praying only to one master? 






							
James C Bryant Jr.
								    
May 19, 2003

Copyright © James C Bryant Jr. | Year Posted 2010

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Deep Within

Feeling deep and dark from inside is where it starts, mentally departing for an hour or two. 
What has become of what’s inside is getting harder and harder to hide. 
	
Inside having pride, but always what’s inside still finds a way to hide. On good days of shine 
never feeling like in mind, different directions in mind is dreaming divine. 
	
Where to look; being hard to find aloft through the mind, electrifying sounds in my ears and 
eyes through the blindness still managing to find the inside. 
	
A daring soul so deep, eyes wide shut and crying it’s the inside always ever prying. Never 
trusting until one sees the wide view, then what’s inside starts to slowly decline. 
	
Years go bye the inside has seen much, somewhat out of touch. There is no denying the 
projection and view, in taking all we are small but not few. With the world in dissolve, ever 
wanting to evolve. 
	  
Inside what agitates the gravel in all, flowing smooth and clean. Graying with what inside has 
seen what a sweet thing to take the inside and make it gleam. 
	
Picking up vibes from every voice, eye to eye living by choice, a natural selection through 
reflection. So powerful in sounds so profound, like watching lightening without the sound. 
	
Reflexes alike never having a need to smite or fight, just a need to dream full self-esteem. 
Mind aloft on high and skin tough as steel harvesting what we accomplish, what we show is 
what we feel. 


Inside… 
		
								
	
James C Bryant Jr.
January 23, 2002

Copyright © James C Bryant Jr. | Year Posted 2010

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things