Its Poems

HURT LEAVE ITS MARK

Hurt leaves a mark
That's felt deep within 
Your soul which causes
You to serve your felling
From your body which
Keeps you from being
Hurt again

Its Most Artistic Form

A blissful, calm day echoes.
A warmth of a kiss it yields.
Atop trees and fertile fields
As far as the sky meets.

Favor grin honor its joyfulness
Of that felt by summer’s rays
On nature’s medium maze
Of color spray in sway, in gay play.

Keep, long moment narrative open
To the comfort landscape painting.
The finished airbrushed scene, reigning
By the hands and heart

I am inhabited by a cry that weaves its shadows in silence

I am inhabited by a cry that weaves its shadows in silence,
Night after night it takes flight from bitter corners,
It searches in endless depths, with claws of longing, for something to love,
I am terrified of this shadow that sleeps in my soul;
All day I feel it spinning gently, like a dream, within me,
It stretches its

Its how i wish

It’s how i wish
distance was never there.
I wish I could pull you closer
and whisper that I care.

Every now and then,
every thought of you
finds me missing you more.

It’s how I wish
I was right there beside you,
able to open my heart
and let you in completely.

Evil has a home and all of Evil is going to its Home in Hell

 Evil is going to its "Home and it is called "Hell"!Here is the truth! Do you mis-use love when it is given to you? if you do-------you are on your way to "Hell for certain"!

When subtle knows its voice

Grand gestures are not needed
warmth proves that one can love deeply
~ the heart finds its ways



Wordku: 5-7-5 words

AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Living life to its fullest

Fueled on octane of life
there’s never a dull minute to regret
~ every moment is utterly precious



Wordku: 5-7-5 words

AP: Honorable Mention 2025

In the dance of conscious life, death wears its silver mask

In the dance of conscious life, death wears its silver mask,
And beneath the veil of darkness, a hidden life flickers softly,
If we closed our eyes, blindness would be a sublime gift,
We'd see how we fight for subtle, ephemeral illusions.
In the silence that embraces us, reality unveils in the dark,
A vast and profound universe, beyond our

The UK has blood on its hands

Slavery solidified the UK's place in the world 
Earning recognition, power and control 
The foundation of its empire 
Built by slave labour

Stolen wealth sat in their banks
Invisible blood covers every coin and note
Hard earned black money
Given to the rich, white and upper class society
Spending our wealth
On buying more slaves
So they can sit and roll around

When the World Held Its Breath

When the world seem to hold its breath
Water starts to collect at the bottom lid of eye
Out of nowhere; lips trembled to speak in dark
Hands danced trying to express the inner words
In sight of no audience a spirit howled in me
Asking whether we deserved it or not
Manifesting no difference in past and present
Seeking a hand

MY NAME ISN'T Y ITS YOLANDA STOP IDENTITY FRAUD

THE SEVERE THREATS FROM CORRUPT KILLERS MY HUSBAND NAME IS NOT ANTHONY C KING I HAVE NEVER REFERRED TO MYSELF AS Y FOR WHAT I LOVE MY NAME WHOLE GOTDAM NAME YOUR FRAUD IMPERSONATING ME COMMITTED FRAUD AGAINST BECAUSE I WORE WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI GUNMEN BROKE INTO MY HOME IN TAMPA STEALING MY

History doesn't matter if its aesthetic

Hot summers dry up the land 
The dirt crumbles under the heaviness of disrespect
Fresh flowers adorn the land 
Covering the uneven burial grounds 
Overshadowed by privilege 

What better way to claim superiority 
By soiling the plantation they stand on
Ignorance crowds the air 
Cast aside by vows of love 
Tainting history with a wedding
The stories of

Its Easy To Dance Through

 Its easy to dance through
when the hole has broken whole,
I'm shiny holding a fish's tank
nothing rusty but winding the crank.
I can't be the cracked whole of you,
bad enough a demon sold his soul,
I wish for a warmth of fiery coal
but his number is upon my coat
and his grips are throttling throat.
It so easy to

Its not'

Its not knowing.? Even
Knowing where I am going.?
Yet about the Lord who is
Coming.!

In the depths of silence, when the moon sings its melancholy tune

In the depths of silence, when the moon sings its melancholy tune,
I lose myself in the whispers of the wind, seeking an ancient rune.
On the paths of night, my steps echo like falling stars in flight,
Through labyrinths of dreams, I delve in search of a call so right.
In the mirror of the sky, the wishes

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