Long Dwayne Poems
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From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By
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Camp E-How-Kee.
?
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Camp E-How-Kee
as a child
had it's dark side as well.
Paul Butler is doing life
for robbery
i know.
He was black and seemed
like a nice kid back then,
he was the token
in our small group of whites
with him it numbered ten.
Fat Jack..Jack Thomas
died
in Florida state prison.
George Walker abused by
his father,
Sexually, psychologically and
physically life a living hell.
kicked in the face by Chief Snell.
He may have weighted
seventy pounds soaking wet
five foot one perhaps.
While Chief Snell,
wearing size thirteen and standing
six foot eleven in bare socks.
Kicked him in his face one early morn.
George in and out prison as well
perhaps by now, 'maybe dead.
He had courage.
Robert Sykes, whom wet the bed
every night.
Lord only knows,
the demons and monsters,
inside of his head.
The abuse that he suffered at home
was his fault we all now know
but a child as well.
is he alive..Amen.
The boy with the epileptic seizures
so bad
I remember his name..
as Dwayne Robinson..he shook and he
screamed all night..
putting the pillow over his head.
While the counselor poured buckets
of cold water on him.
Screaming be quite.
where was 'God'..then..
Must I go on..yes I will.
All of us between eleven and twelve.
Maybe one was thirteen..
mighty frontiersman were we.
Angels, were we heavens know, 'no.
being allowed to use axes
and draw knives
we kept pocket knives to do our work.
And Wally Otting was like Frank...
Michael Berro...
none thinking back then were like I..
When it got to bad
I would take most away in the middle
of the night to escape..
what we thought we escaped when it was
we left our homes.
Most would not listen and then get caught
I always made it back home fifty miles
of eating berries or nothing at all..
just to be sent back again.
Delila after dark..this was then...
you were a tender Ronnie and
I was a boy of twelve..with no
moss or beard..
and my parts even then were coveted
by others as well..
This is my confession for them..
Donna Black...H.C.S.D.
Doing this to us was what..........and
where is Gary Anderson?
What could a child, 'i have done back then
but i tried, as
One group of five made up of tens.
This is a tribute to those who were themselves
An ode to the incredible minds
Including Hunter S. Thompson and Jim Morrison
Artist born inarguably before their time
This is a write to the rebels
Those who punched authority in the mouth
Bob Marley and Johnny Cash
Belong in this crowd without a doubt
This is an anthem
To those who stand up for their rights
Muhammad Ali, Malcom X, and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
For the Africans led freedoms fight
This is a write
For those who have the voice for the ages
Jerry Garcia, and Jimmy Buffett
Were at their best on the grandest of stages
This is a document
Endowing guitar god immortality
To Stevie Ray Vaughn, Jimi Hendrix, and Dwayne Allman
Their names shall live long after their fatality
Texas Rock Legends ZZ Top
Belong in the guitar god classification
Well into their sixties
They are still rocking stages for this great nation
Pink Floyd is embraced with love
Symbolizing the envied acid trip generation
Singing mellow songs with an especially deep message
Times tarnished by public misinterpretation
I’ve mentioned few
Of the historic minds I hold dear
Though many were lost before I was born
I still shed symbolic tears
Their messages and combined impact
On the generation in which I belong
Often could only
Be broadcast in song
They vocalized their messages
To impact segregation
They sang songs filled with meaning
Often advocating self medication
Their memories are priceless
Even to those they were never to know
Their impact so important
Such a significant path drove
They lived in controversial times
Experiencing events not known to we of today
All we know
Is what our teachers choose to display
Knowledge may be earned
By studying these priceless minds
Listen to their music, read their messages to the world
For you would be so very surprised
This art is non-existent
In this “Bill Mahr” defined era
Rather than banding together, we point fingers
With women finally able to vote, they only worry about their mascara
The efforts of our former sixties/seventies generations
To change our nation has now been proven to have failed
For the future has shown
Their freedom train was to be inevitably derailed
we're living in an era of ignorance
we lost our innocense
at fourteen your too young to vote but old enough for death sentences
these politcians are hypocrits
for the atrocities that they commit we face imprisonment
durring this pro American sentiment
how could we forget the scores of poor ignored
while we finance a war
that bombs then rebuilds them
feed their children
while the ones back home
have to fend for their own
life is wonderul and miserable depends on the time frame
the birth of Almasi(my son) the death of Dwayne(my cousin)
I went bezerk it hurt clutching his blood soaked shirt
while he lay on the Earth leaking blood on the dirt
I cried to the sky please guide me father
at times this world is so dark I need night vision goggles
i lost friends to ignorance
bullets and jail stints
drug habbits and various patterns of bull ish
I've navigating through dangerous
streets trying to claim us
beast trying to tame us
friends turned to strangers
I have ducked heat from flammers
by mennacing strangers
thinking I will survive like gloria gaylor
its a small world but I got big plans
but it gets hard like trying to jog through quicksand
but I found GOD on both knees with cluthced hands
but kept getting invitations from the Devil to dance
so i went below the surface
became more observant
hand shakes are fake they dont mean a thing
a smile can be a predator preparing his fangs
I severed ties with friends who's minds were stagnated
had king pin dreams but never quite made it
friendships were torn
and habbits were formed
and the ones who escaped crack
heroin snatched
and I engaged in acts that were so unGodly
only he can judge me punish me or pardon me
watching this world makes me shed eye water
our sons get slaughtered and denegrated ours daughters
its the sign of the times cant you see that people
first it rained airplanes then the mail was lethal
ghetto youths indisputes they spray A.K s
suburban kids throw pipebombs in school hallways
after so many years of feeding violence to youths
I guess those chickens came home to roost
I've forgot how to rhyme right
Lack of inspiration keeping me up for five nights
Writing rhymes to keep my mind tight
I'd rather be truthful than a coward who hides behind lies
An average poet, but you might find
a few lines that are designed nice
I need my heart to break in order to write when my mind dies
Yesterday I was sitting around missing her, now I'm over her, time flies
Being a poet is like being an addict because after every poem, I say I should just do one more line, guys
That line should be in an episode of Lil Wayne rhymes like
Making fun of celebrities for no reason, I'm shameless
I need a hot girlfriend so We can get rich the same way Kim Kardashian got famous
I'm just having a little fun, please don't take it too serious
But people get offended by everything these days in my experience
No disrespect to the Kardashians but I don't wish to keep up with their nonsense
I was a fan of a rapper until he said he's flyer than an Ostrich
Everyone is "Flyer" than something that doesn't fly
Or maybe I'm not smart enough to understand a rhyme so complex
There needs to be a "Worst rap line of all time" contest
Got told I'd be dead by 21, but I made it to the future and I'm not talking about the mask off guy
That line was predictable but don't mind it
I'm writing in Big Pun's rhyme book with Eminem's pen so there isn't a word I can't rhyme with
You may not agree with the form that I write
But writing was all I had when i was standing alone in the storm of the night
the white Mike Tyson, I was born for the fight
Maybe I should have a little more decency
They'll say I only dissed the Kardashians because they won't sleep with me
I went to write something nice but my pens crazy
Bipolar and inspired by Slim Shady
I've got a beer belly, but I don't think Dwayne Johnson has been to the gym lately
I don't know why I said that, this is the worst poem I ever wrote
But I just managed to write a poem without talking about depression, well almost
I'm inside of Jason Voorhees Hockey mask and out of my mind
But now my writers block has gone and I've remembered how to rhyme
Trinity Garden Bloods 4ever
Poem by Cmack Estevez
I grew with friends from Elementary
I grew with bloods in Middle School that I knew in 2nd grade.
But I never screw up in the poverty North Eastside streets of Screwtown.
Jasper Aaron Banks was my homeboy for life from sixth to eight grade he kept me away from the gang stuff.
He knew I had potential in something unique and special so he wanted me to focus on my writing while he gang bangs.
He told me there’s more in life than being all hard and banging.
He was my nigga till the end
We share
We care
We ride
We didn’t hide
We had everything in common when it came to rap and movies.
Jasper was like a friendly Casper that influence me to the positivity road.
But what struck me was that he ended up being paralyzed by a group of disgraceful wannabe Crabs that dress like crap with bullets bleeding out on his lower back Lord it should’ve been me not him.
His life was ruined when he ended up in a wheelchair.
He was only 13 like my age .
He was so young and so was I
A victim by the hands of a wannabe
They might’ve wet my homeboy up but they couldn’t shut him up forever with them bullets
My homeboy still lives.
I love this guy like a brother and always eternally.
He’s wasn’t no water to me he was thicken blood to me in my sickening system.
He was my family.
But all I know is that I made it as a poet and this is dedicated to all the bloods that I respect growing up with in Houston for 12 years and to the other bloods stay up and keep your head up.
Jasper is my ride and die till the end
Titus Devante Scott is my side nigga
Jamarkus Dwayne Henry my ride and die till the end
And everybody that I grew with in Trinity Gardens in Houston down to that 77016 I’m still loyal and bout it.
Trinity Garden Bloods 4ever till the casket drops.
Dear God I been struggling all my life
for the sins I committed I paid the price
learned to live with regrets and sacrifice
da da da da da da da da da da da
I contain unspeakable secrets in the depths of my mind
my eyes have witness the wickedest sickness of mankind
In been conflicted at times
by my on mind confined
implicated in crime and briefly confined
Now I'm a family guy and there much more than worth it
but what if all the beef from my past comes to the surface
that's not what I sweat I got theLord to protect
if the strings get pulled on the devils marionettes
but in the event they approached with the intent of my death
I'd still send shots down the center like I'm dialing collect
always a peaceful cat except for my youth
when I swore that I wore a bullet proof gorilla suit
and in the heat of the streets deepest beefs I found
every shot that came would miss be by a country mile
until that one that came to erase the life of Dwayne
it murder portions of me and the rest if left in pain
in a since he's still here cause his blood flows through my veins
and my faith dictates I can see him again
all though the pain never lessens their are lessons in pain
for what does not kill me gives me strength to gain
Dear God I been struggling all my life
for the sins I committed I paid the price
learned to live with regret and sacrifice
da da da da da da da da da da da
I'm from Norfolk Virginny
where every bodies stingy
even king pins cut nuts and pinch pennies
where stick up kids are found
patrolling their grounds
when the sun drops the pull out and start patting you down
like give me your money now
don't make a sound
when this barrel burst it's known to send souls to the cloud
and rule number one is to trust no one
cause here friendships dissolve like snow in the sun
and when the parties are done ain't nobody dipping
that's prime time for parking lot pimping
but the crowd will disperse once the pistols burst
even the girls keep a little fire works in their purse
Virginia Is For Lovers. Thats just for t-shirts here hate is heavy
they'll turn you to a plate of spaghetti
the flow is steady
what every you cop they got ready
until the drought comes then nuts get cut like machetes
its the grind in over kill
where hustlers sale soap for dope and customers cop with counterfeit bills
it's where the projects got renamed
but the crime didn't change
so they campaigned till down came the whole thing
Its where Sweet Pea learned his fight game
and the weak learned to flee before the night came
and we morn our lost loved ones like Dwayne
and that pain drives some insane damaging brain cells
in a nut shell we catching hell
Clueless as to who I am now.
And to my changing actions.
My sleep seems to not be as sleep should be, I am often reminded of
things I did while sleeping that I had not even the slightest clue I did.
Trying to relax my mind and calm but not at all for still seems to happen.
now I have become someone I don't even know myself,
And I don't think it's ok or even the slightest bit good, slowly loosing
control over my emotions and jealousy creeps in. Little by little and I'm
having a hard time dealing with it.
In truth If decided to seek out else or find a happy that won't hurt I
would never give the wrong because I'm to be blame, love , joy,
happiness , trust, comfort etc. that's the real facts of relationship but it
seems as if I have been lacking in all and affecting the one who I love, ,
And now I do see that problem is spelled-DWAYNE MORGAN-
And hurt follows in reverse
And and the facts of a good life for her is blocked by the bold caps letters
and a head so thick that can't even pic up on a signal even if it drops on
my head.
I now see that Instead of an asset I have become a liability to her ,
depreciating as time goes by and soon il probably be the decimal point
before all the zeros( no place value)..
Dwayne
How stupid could you be
you were smoking weed and jumping off cliffs that you didnt know
off to your friends you were trying to show
when you didnt even know how to swim
did you think you would just pretend?
and everything would be fine in the end
were you thinking at all?
i hope i break through some walls
because many people here are missing you now
you were just 18, still just a teen
you didnt even graduate yet and one party for the first day of summer
in quaries who's depths outnumbered your deepest depths, took you from all of us
you didnt even know my area well enough, being from Whitehall, not Slatington
and yet you decided to try and swim, so what, you jumped in?
off of a fifty foot wall, into a big 250 foot deep hole
you never came up
and for quiet some time your friends didnt realize it
so now your gone, drowned, because you had to do something not so smart
no one will really remember your name, you'll just be the boy from Whitehall
that died in our quarrie, that ended the games
hearts will break, people will scream, from nightmares that you caused
ill miss you, even though i didnt know you at all
Dwayne
how could you be so stupid
R.I.P my unknown friend
CHRISTMAS STOCKINGS
Christmas stockings hung neatly in a row
The fire is casting a warm, cheery glow
The tree has now been trimmed to perfection
I sit here relaxed in great reflection
The number of stockings has grown o'er the years
Children and grandchildren added with joyful tears
No longer do they just read Dad and Mom
There's Rachel, Christy, Ginger, and Jon
There's Dwayne and Rob, Jason and Carra
Stephen, Corinne, Liam and Lanna
And then there's Aiden, but he's not the last
'Cause Carra's tummy is expanding real fast
Stockings for the pets are included in it all
They've been part of the family since they were small
But the most important stocking that you will see
Is for Baby Jesus – it's hung on the tree
It's there to remind us of His fateful plight
Death on a cross – He died without fight
His stocking is empty – as is His grave
Because it is we He died to save
So when you hang all your stockings, include Him
Then Christmas will be more joyful, and never grim
And we'll be ever mindful that Jesus is the reason
That we thankfully celebrate each Christmas season
Curtis Moorman
5 November 2011