Best Black Book Poems
Hallelujahs
Everlastingly!
All knowing God
Rewards faithful souls.
Omnipotent forgiveness is given.
Sin is deleted from God’s “Little Black Book.”
Easter celebrates innocence; Jesus arose from the dead.
I spent the whole night dressed up like a witch
collecting lots of candy and then YOU
stole all of it! You’re lucky I’m no snitch,
I won’t tell Mom, but here is what I’ll do:
I know your secrets and the games you play
with different girls that you like at our school
(especially Patricia) and the way
you two-time her. You know that isn’t cool!
You like her best. Well, Bobby here’s the deal.
You give back all my candy that you took
or I’ll be spilling all the beans – for REAL.
Remember I have seen your small black book!
And I’ll be wanting interest for I’d like
not just my candy, but your old blue bike!
Oct. 22. 2019 for Bobby May's If I Were Your Brother Poetry Contest
You&me
it's like that song:you and me together...
it'll never happen
you go on with your cap on
thinking no one ill see what you wright in your little black book
no matter what you do or wear
every one can still tell your in love with me!
i know but do you?
think about it
it'll come someday
Last night the thunder came out of the east
Rolling like a freight train into the desert
Dog collars and burros
Blew by my window
I watched with much mirth
For I knew the end was near
And I was for once without fear
A good night to die
I poured the mead
And kicked the dog
Blue as a robin’s egg
Brown as a calico dress
Turn up the tornado
Let it roll through my heart
In abandon lives bravado?
No time for the meek
God turned his pages in the big black book
And the spirits clapped and looked down upon me
Till I turned my face to the heavens
And called them by their names: Indra, Zeus, Thor!
I do not fear thee for I am no fool
Take my soul to the thunder and roar
And scatter it to the four winds
I will travel again
I will live again
I am
And thus shall ever be
Interludes of a Night Rat
You can not plan out the day’s use of words.
You can not predict noon’s thoughts and moods.
You can not lasso in the interludes of reality
And press it here with the carnations
Destined for long life,
Pressed in the good book,
The big black book filled with violence and salvation.
You can not know the answers found in the twilight of now.
Know the reasons why life is a big test.
Know the questions never asked or seen beforehand.
The big test with no answer key.
You can not lasso in the interludes of reality.
You can not take time and sit on it
So it won’t get away.
But it does, my friends.
Like the night rat,
Time sneaks outside the house every night for
The bigger crumbs.
It’s comforting these days to look into the mirror
And see an old man ready for the voyage,
A final voyage beyond the noon’s thoughts and moods.
I sit in the still caressing of death.
I sit in the still cemetery
And I can hear the barn owl eating the night rat.
A dreamer - yet they thought that she was mad
But dreams allowed an escape of reality, whenever she felt sad
Nobody special, lost in a fantasy world
Simple and thoughtful, yet no ordinary girl.
Her parents died when she was just two
Then she lived with Gran who was wise and true
Soon sent to high school; miles away
How she dearly missed her Gran every second of the day.
She was treated differently from all the rest
Only because she never had the best
Although ‘not well to do’, still the most humble being
Her ever-ready smile made others see “green”
The students would pick on her, laughing at her expense
Making her miserable, uncomfortable and extremely tense
So at breaks, left alone, she would sit by a tree
And when she closed her eyes she would feel carefree.
She dreamt that she was riding fast or flying in midair
And she could feel the wind blowing wildly through her hair
Her dreams took her places she never could go
Disneyland, Paris, Barbados, even Pluto!
She would write down her fantasies in her little black book
And read it whenever she sat at a nearby brook
She would remember Gran’s words: “Dreams do come true.
Just have a little faith and do the best you can do.”
Those words of wisdom had stuck with her till this day
And after high school she won a bursary to study far away.
Now she teaches orphans and makes them believe in their dreams
Making them feel special and enhancing their self-esteem.
She travels the world, always meeting new friends
Creating her very own popular trends
They love her personality and her radiant smile
People hope and forget their problems for a while
She was a dreamer yet they thought that she was mad
Now she’s living a life no-one dreamed she could have had
She wakes up each day living out her dreams
And that, dear friends, is where it really all begins…
DREAMS
02 May 2012
-His Wife and Mother I would Be-
I would love being a sheep like a mother
Whose thrust is for the betterment
Of her husband and her children
Than being an arrogant goat of a wife
Who’d keep scolding and nagging at her spouse
I would rather be that humble and patient lady
In my husband house where he yells out and murmurs
Than being a tough and thug wife and mother
Who’s in every neighbor’s black book and bombshell.
I would rather be a virgin holding up with my stands
But if not corroborated and acceptable at home
Would sacrifice it all
For the sake of my love and my brood.
For there is nothing worth having and giving out for
Than a devoted husband, a family and a good home
I’d love being one of those wives who trade no word
With their men and who take them as to their hearts.
Would pierce not, greed not and humble all through my life
And would await that heavenly reward in the eternal life.
A.O
19/02/2014
no Artist, no Poet
Vickie M. Ortiz Vazquez
I am not an artist
So, I doodle
Play with shapes, colors
Juxtapose
Yet, I am no artist
Inscriptive, descriptive visual symbols come about
Recognizable shapes, not what it seems
Misunderstood at first glace
Driven by a part of me you do not know
I am not an artist
So, I doodle
Play with shapes, colors
Juxtapose
Yet, I am no artist
Lines meet to reveal a thought
Experience
Fuel by what has been heard
Watched
Felt
Syllables merge to form words, sentences
Beliefs
I am not an artist neither a poet
So, I write
Use words to paint my thoughts
Yet, I am no artist nor poet
Black book to grey notebook
Symbols meet; apart by soft-hard covers
Thoughts described
Driven by the woman, teenager
Childhood memories
Stitch by a common thread
Me, myself and I
I am not an artist
So, I doodle
I am not an artist neither a poet
So, I write
Yet, I am no artist nor poet
I am life’s fool
Touch by moments of inspiration
I am nature’s creation
Design to loose and gain
I am society’s product
Branded by many labels
Constricted, tormented by my “brothers” and “sisters”
I am not an artist
So, I doodle
Play with shapes, colors
Juxtapose
Yet, I am no artist
I am not an artist neither a poet
So, I write
Use words to paint my thoughts
Yet, I am no artist nor poet
Work in progress
Life’s path
Unfinished piece, lifetime work
Brush strokes, wide-simple yet complicated
Narrow path full of passion
Torture
Bristled brushes with primary colors
Endless possibilities
Motifs floating about
I am not an artist
So, I doodle
Play with shapes, colors
Juxtapose
Yet, I am no artist
Expressive words delineate motifs
Continuous mark with an end
To express what cannot be said
Mumble within me without escape
I am not an artist neither a poet
So, I write
Use words to paint my thoughts
Yet, I am no artist nor poet
I am life’s fool
Touch by moments of inspiration
I am nature’s creation
Design to loose and gain
I am life’s fool
Touch by moments of inspiration
The Dating Game
Well, times sure has changed
Dating is as easy as can be
Providing you have a good computer
With a lot of memory
Back when I was dating
Women played hard to get
But nowadays you can find them anywhere
Yep, even on the internet
I would always ask for their number
When I found that perfect female
But those days are now long gone
And now you gotta ask for their e-mail
The "Little black book" is a thing of the past
It's went the way of the hard drive
Instead of sitting around waiting for the phone to ring
Now, they're waiting for the mail to arrive
And now, they even use their webcams
While their talking, face to face
And It's no longer "Your place or mine?"
For now they meet in cyberspace
I'm telling you, I'm sure glad I'm married
Cause this would drive me insane
There's just too many cyber "How do you do's"
In this new fangled dating game
High spirits in a dance with a flying mood
All burdens at the moment are in memory’s black book
Pleasing and pure the world seems
Perfect and powerful a person feels
Yoyo’s bounce of the heart reflected through the body’s oscillations
Hot as hell, emotions fire the flames,
Nervous about meeting doctors, nurses,
Curtain separates them from congregation,
The veil is not torn in two, but steamy adulation,
Courts their friendship sessions to distance,
Bible fanatic from mum, with a secular pretence:
Stationed to obey that mile that you go,
Faithful to womb child who does overthrow,
That divine validation of mundane everyday life,
Which never does blot his copybook, he’s your invisible wife,
Just because nothing bad happens, then he’s loving,
To be a feature of your relationships and thinking,
So good to give you a furtherer of your animations,
So fine to set converts and following by time within your devotions:
Baby born, and the first thing they said was Jesus!
But I did adjust like a jet, right arm spasm, religion to suss,
Because i had not related perfectly to my mum at all in her beauty,
By getting into a tizzy, a fix about her vaginal cavity:
The umbilical chord did suffocate around my neck,
Three times, and three times to many, ‘cos i hit the deck,
Put in an incubator, a machine my life to sustain,
Where i didn’t depend on maternal caresses to obtain,
That blooming continuation that does greatly assure you of your future,
You expectations, your understandings and boundaries to nurture;
The machine of oxygen and warmth did suffice,
To love this new born child as cold as ice,
To spiritual things and to worlds unknown,
By humankind who only know hell when it’s thrown;
And as I did lurk in my hospital bedroom, or ward,
Like a businessman who is playing the sure investment card:
I wished so much that black book to just disappear,
As it only wrought despair, anxiety and tumultuous fear;
My parents friends, stone cold as delinquent thieves,
Prayed though those days as they sang “Bringing In The Sheaves,”
Whilst appendices of nurses added that they’d do,
Convincing my parents, including doctor-trained dad, that I’d pull through,
They just read the bible to me, over and over,
Through glass ventilator, that separator which did cover,
Happy as chuck, pleased as punch and relaxed enough, in that clever machine,
I clearly didn’t see what they did mean,
Because I was dressed in the NHS, nothing less,
Never this sin to render or confess.
Welcome...to the 5th world of mysticism well I see
A Crystal Vision and consulting my big black book of
Miracles to recite the incantation you need tonight with
A wave of my hands and a flash of light I change your
Life...just as surely as the moon has a hold on the
Oceans time has casted their spells on you...look for
The day during the summer solstice when Venus
Eclipse the sun and the night when the resurrected
Dragon comes then and only then can the next chapter
Begin...apprentice to the Wizard I have seen the
Path to enlighten in a Crystal Vision of a new
Golden age and the holy mother holding the world in her hands
Saying ceases the violence and hate now as
We enter the 5th world love is the new command thus I
Say!
The black dog comes without warning
it meanders inside my head
teasing me, testing me, pushing me to
the limit of human endurance.
I hate my weakness. I abhor the crazy
mixed up tears that roll valiantly down
my pale grey cheeks, fatigue envelopes
me in an ice cold shower - I shiver.
There is no respite from pain, though I
beg these feelings to desist. In this dull
ruinous life love lays in the black midden
Where the faeces is rancid on a summers day.
Is it just the grave that awaits me? NOOOO
Perish the thought, I need to live before I die.
I sit upon my garden seat, I pretend not to see that
black rook, I know it is waiting to pick my bones.
I open my little black book, erase all the names of
my past lovers. I pray to the Lord to forgive my
past. Please Lord, let me live before I die...
Release the black dog that haunts me so.
Dark as Midnight,
but with a aura that radiates like sun.
100 watt smile, must have seen it from a mile,
& knew right then within my heart
she was the one!
Her essence had beautiful Black Queen
illuminating from its core.
I seen her once, maybe twice, & the third time..?
I was like a dope fiend, cuz I was fiending
for more!
Cuz, she was a beautiful black book!,
with gold trimmings that I yearn to read.
Wanted to know her story...every page & understand
this exquisite Black Queen.
Be engulfed by her beauty & words,
as we manifest to one another.
They say beauty is only skin deep,
but I swear she was like no other!
Never seen such beauty & perfection since
my existence on this earth.
Thought she was a rare Black Diamond...
& I was compel to know her worth!
Uncomprehendable, surely this creature had to
be a Angel!
But, her presence was mystic & she left
me with no angle.
On, how to reach her heart?, how to reach her mind?
Two elements from the same person entwined!
But, the truth of the mater is, she'll never be mines.
So from a distance, I look & yearn for the opportunity
to get to know this cutie.
& no, I didn't want her body...I just wanted to know this
Midnight Beauty!
'
Its just one feeling, a simple normal emotion; ....Every one feels it, I think.....But I can’t help this chill from crawling up my spine.... Implanting poisonous fear deep within my mind.....It spreads viciously to every nerve telling me it’s won; you’ve won....... ..Your words strike fires in the recesses of my thoughts; ....Even the slightest spark from it scorches and burns images and memories into my skin like a scarlet carving still raw with every memory. ....Thoughts of you consume claiming hostile takeover;....So when I say your love burns, you better believe its true! ....I even gag at the simplest thought of you, ....Imagine what your words do. ...... ..I hate you! But I can’t seem to forget you, ....Your memories are my poison the dagger in my back,.... Your touch stings of acid burning my flesh upon contact. ....Your lies have always won you freedom,....But you’ve run out of lies to tell,.... I’ve written them down upon his big Black book;.... God knows each and every word, now tell me who’s got who?...... ..You’re my fear in 3D, the monster in my head.....Your love is despicable a forced injection in my veins..... Burning,stabbing deep with in, ....I yearn to beat it, to control it, but you wont let me.you’re the disgusting infection under my skin!....Your own personal weapon of just three mortifying words,....Words that twist and snake there way through all walls and barriers,....Words that stop at nothing, not even “NO”..... .... I fight to be rid of you; Denial is my strongest weapon,....But distance keeps me free! ....The pain just intensifies with each lie I tell to me;....Each night your near I’ll smile hidden deep in side my lies,.... You’ll never see me cry!...... ..You think you’ve won! You think I’m weak! ....Just because at each punch I turn the other cheek, ....One day I’ll beat the burn, I’ll put out your Poisonous flame!...... .. Each day I’ll tell my self the same sick lies:....“He doesn’t love you! It’s all a lie! Some day he’ll pay! Perhaps he’ll die”....So I’ll hide in the safety of my friends,....I’ll ignore you and your poison until I know I’ve beaten it! ....That way you’ll know you’re wrong,....I’m strong!