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Bakari Wright Poem
To love you is to accept you for who you are
God's child but -
Heart's wild cause -
You were born original, you're a shinning star
To love you is to be like a lover and friend
Hug you and kiss you -
Loving to miss you -
I'll be their for you girl until the very end
To love you is to pick you hopes up when they fall
Rejuvinate your dreams -
See the right things -
Whenever you need me just give me a call
To love you is to sex you any place any time
From the bed to the car -
The head to the heart -
When we come ------ together it's like a beautiful rhyme
To love you is to be their when you cry when life's
heavy on your shoulder's and -
the world just gets colder and -
You need me to be their just to make things right
To love you is to love me loving you loving me
To love you is lovely, it's my definition of free
Copyright © Bakari Wright | Year Posted 2005
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Bakari Wright Poem
A world without music, is a life without inspiration,
music itself is inspired by every nation.
No jazz, no soul, no rock, I'd probably die,
no tunes in my ear when I travel and fly.
No sound when I drive, no euphony in quiet times,
nothing to hum or sing, no melodies of delicate chimes.
Why breakdance when there's no hip hop around,
why adidas, why freestyle, they'll be no radios about.
No music, no music, I cannot imagine -
A world without music will bring nothing but sadness -
A world without music, is a concert without felicity,
if I didn't exist, would music be missing me?
No African chants that touch my soul once heard,
no mezmorizing songs from those Kingfisher birds.
No Elvis, no Prince, no Chaka Khan or Sting,
no Miles Davis or Madonna, Tupac or Alicia Keys.
What would you dance to? There's no such thing as rhythm,
You'd be moving and moving, but with no music in it.
No music, no music, I cannot imagine -
A world without music will bring nothing but sadness -
Copyright © Bakari Wright | Year Posted 2007
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Bakari Wright Poem
This man has the heart of a lion -
My eyes never seen him shed one tear -
As a father he never stopped trying -
My soul never sensed him showing fear -
This man has the heart of a soldier -
Stands tall and speaks with pride -
Years pass by the lion gets older -
Although he still has fire burning inside -
This man has the heart of a king -
He dresses so smooth and talks at ease -
Within the household he does his thing -
Did all he can to keep his Queen -
This man has the heart of a lion -
He motivates my every step -
Because of him I'll never stop trying -
I'll give my all until nothing's left -
Copyright © Bakari Wright | Year Posted 2006
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Bakari Wright Poem
Admirable Almights all I ask appreciatively allow me to attain,
be beyond bourgeois breeding ballads for the brain.
Create colloquialisms that cast competently into chimeras,
directing dramatists with doubtful determinations to
delightful dactylic discriptions.
Edible expressions that exite eyes and ears,
by freely forming a firm fire you'll flog any frigid forlornness fear.
God glorifies the good, my given gift Godsent thee,
my hardihood's husky, heart hungover with honesty.
I inscribe impenetrable insights, my individuality's
inanimate without improvisation,
other jaws jabber jargon jokingly, my journalistic journey's
like Jesus's justifications.
I know to keep with Christ a close kinship,
lie low then leap to light life is limited.
Maturing moderately I molded motives to mentally
manufacture music,
now naturally notions are necessary, abnormal novelistic natuarlist.
It's obvious this optimist ovulates obscure poetic offsprings,
perception pastel's perfectly personify the pen pusher's
potentcy passionately.
You're quasi qualified like Franz Kafka no question,
respectable written reflection ramble rampant even while resting.
Some scorn and show sentiment towards sonnets I've
scriptured successfully,
the toungue-tied troubadour tallies towering totals of
synchronized terms intentionally.
My untimatum is ultimately unrivaled when using unbreakable
utensils,
my voice vibrates vigorously, visionary with a victorious view.
Why waste what you wrote, wake up, wonder in a writer zone,
poems have vibes like a xylophone.
Heart young, yearn for God 365 times a year,
my zodac is wrong, attitude zealous.
Copyright © Bakari Wright | Year Posted 2005
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Bakari Wright Poem
Lovely
eyes that I see
remains a mystery only
in dreams.
Copyright © Bakari Wright | Year Posted 2007
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Bakari Wright Poem
I never knew the feeling hip hop gave her,
she was on the brink of death but it saved her.
80's baby this hip hop raised her
the art of expressing the mind that's what made her.
She wore a hat to the back baggy jeans
black back pack eyes like Isis soul priceless.
She inspired me and so I write this it might just
rise up her lifeless soul I'm just,
head over heels for this priceless diamond,
whenever she was down hip hop brought her mind up.
In an open mic club you might find her,
freestyles and spoken word poetry drives her.
She kept her hand in the air she was live plus
shy no man dedicated to the flow I,
knew she was gifted she lifted my pride
when she said her rhyme, it's what hip hop gave her.
I never knew the feeling hip hop gave her.
She's the type to cypher with 3 guys,
driven by the Queen Lah past molds a mean eye.
Father kept her down but her mother told her dream high
so she rocks a-di-da shell toes to be fly.
She's the one to get you up on Eric B. and Rah,
the only thing she knew was be an emcee or die.
On the phone tone speaking frequently till I
fell asleep in the morning I'm like, "lil G I tried"
She replies with a gleam in her eyes,
like I see you as the king in my life.
I'm like I'm like.....
girl you like a sister to me, a best friend I can kiss on the cheek.
Right then I think her heart took time out
to rewind my words then she cried her eyes out.
I never knew that hip hop gave her me
the same day I heard a dj break beats.
Since day 1 we grew on each other became a team,
last year cancer overcame and changed her.
Now she lives where the angels hang at,
she misses me when she cries,
she gives me Rain back.
Since then I haven't been the same cat,
now I know where hip hop's made at.
Now I know what hip hop gave her,
it gave her me, it gave her me.
Copyright © Bakari Wright | Year Posted 2007
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Bakari Wright Poem
She's like beautiful....nice pretty smile....
She's like a dream....I'll sleep for a while....
She's worth a milion....product of God's work....
She's like everything....everything she's worth....
I sit in my room and picture this fine black....no caramel....no puerto rican....no
venezualian female walking about and around my home like she bought it, HA!
Her eyes green maybe hazel, doesn't matter, because everytime I look at her our
lips touch, hands interlock, and bodies intertwine like vines on a tree. She's like
the best cook, fried chicken, sweet cream corn, candy yams, and the sweetest
red koolade even the hardest ghetto would love. She's like a piece to my missing
puzzle she's like something I'd love over and over again until again is over.
She's like....beautiful....
She's like....sexy....
She's like....untouchable....
She's like....the best thing....
She's like everything I think about when I'm not thinking about thinking about
anything. She's like what matters most when nothing matters at all. There's "I
Love You's" when she's mad and "F--- You's" when she's happy. Plus she knows
I don't like dealing with the drama, but her attitude is automatic, she get it from
her mamma.
She's like....my support....
She's like....my Queen....
She's like....my motivation....
She's like....my dream....
Copyright © Bakari Wright | Year Posted 2006
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Bakari Wright Poem
She was addicted
to cocaine just like I was
addicted to rap.
Copyright © Bakari Wright | Year Posted 2005
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Bakari Wright Poem
He sang me a song
blindy motivated me
and just died last year.
Copyright © Bakari Wright | Year Posted 2005
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Bakari Wright Poem
Listen....
Let me tell you a secret peep it
poetry is an art form, so intriguing.
Whether you're in solitude
or on stage speaking not speechless.
Poetic speeches teach the future's
young leaders many reasons
to lead the leadless to be leaders.
Knowledge, college scholars showered
with power make nonbelievers cowar.
Hardtimes tower over our life
and devour us from the inside-outward,
if we let it.
If we could....backtrack our tracks
to the past back when
elementary class was in session,
I'd take a different road
as an inacurate adolescent.
Back when....
grandmother was packin' a blessin'
in a black sac clappin and stressin'
cause young kids weapon clappin'
in da back of da black Lac
actin manish.
I'd be a....
doctor, an athletic athlete in a track meet,
a balla that packs Heat like Shaq.
A teacher, I'd be Puff Daddy
and remix 'Mo Money Mo Problems' featuring Aretha.
But remember, that's my secret,
shhh, don't tell anybody.
Copyright © Bakari Wright | Year Posted 2005
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