Long Invasions Poems
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MY LIFE IS IN DANGER I BEGAN WEARING WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI SFTER SPECIAL LEROY HEIMBACH SPECIAL AGENT ALAN KING INFORMED ME THAT CIRO GARGANO KILLED 8 PEOPLE IN A FIRE MY CHILDREN AND I IN DANGER THAT BEGAN IN A TAILOR SHOP I'VE RETIRED I AM NO LONGER AN INFORMANT HERE'S THE THING GARGANO FAKED HIS DEATH TWICE AND HAVE BEEN LIVING IN MY AC VENT LITERALLY LISTENING DEVISES INSTALLED HE SITS WATCHING LISTENING TO MY HUSBAND AND I WHO IS A WAR HERO CIRO BECAME OBSESSED WITH KILLING MY HUSBAND HE GATHERED JAMAICAN DRUG DEALERS IDENTITY THIEVES FROM THE CARTEL CONVICTED IN NORTH CHICAGO ILLINOIS TIED TO THE JAMAICAN ASSASIN WHO ARRIVED TO KILL ME IN TAMPA BAY ALL AS A RESULT MY WEARING WIRES FOR THE FEDERAL BUREAU ARLINGTON HEIGHTS ILLINOIS HE IS VERY DANGEROUS VIOLENT HE IS TRYING TO KILL ME NOW HE FAKED HIS DEATH TWICE TO TERRORIZE ME THEM MURDER ME BY EXPOSING MY IDENTITY AS AN INFORMANT TO ALL THE KILLERS AND DEALERS THIER TWISTED FEMALE FAMILY MEMBERS JAMAICAN DEALERS IDENTITY THIEVES HACKING INTO MILITARY FAMILIES LIKE A VICIOUS CHUCKY DOLL HE IS A SERIAL KILLER MURDERER OF LISA ANN CARNES HE IS TARGETING MY HUSBAND MY WAR HERO INTIMADATION HOME INVASION STOLEN VALOR IMPERSONATING MY HUSBAND THE JAMAICAN FEMALES ACTUALLY POINTED AN ASSUALT RIFLE THROUGH OUR WNDOW LANDED ON MY HUSBAND CHEST FINALLY SHOOTING OVER 15 BULLET HOLES 38 SLUGS IN OUR PLANTS HE BLEW UP MY FACE WITH A CAR AND EMBEZZLED THE TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY AS I SUFFER HERE WITH AFIB ATRIAL FIBRILLATION IRREGULAR HEART BEATS STROKE HEART FAILURE BREATHING MACHINE WITH PTSD SEVERE PANIC DISORDER SEVERE ANXIETY DISORDER COPING WITH AGRPHOBIA NARCOLEPSY HE LAYS LOW INSIDE MY NEIGHBORS DOG ROOM WITH ILLEGAL JAMAICAN IMMIGRANT FEMALE STALKERS PERPUTRATING FRAUD UPON ME AND MY HUSBAND THIS IS A COMPLETE DIRE NEED IMPERSONATING A WAR HERO WHO HAS A PURPLE HEART GARGANO STALKING ME HUSBAND WITH THREATS WITH STOLEN VALOR CONNECTED TO THE POLICE CAPTAIN IN HAINE CITY STOLEN VALOR IS A HORRID CRIME AGAINST AMERICA'S FINEST WAR HEROS I AM VERY ILL COPING WITH HOME INVASIONS IDENTITY FRAUD RESULTING FROM MY WEARING WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI BUYING WEAPONS AND DRUGS FOR THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION MY HUSBAND AND I ARE IS FILLED WITH STRESS GREIF GOD BLESS AMERICA
Oh, the internet, that digital domain,
Where truth and fiction dance in disdain.
Where every keyboard warrior reigns supreme,
And cat videos rule, a bizarre meme.
Scroll through feeds of filtered perfection,
Life's highlights with a hint of deception.
Where likes and shares define our worth,
In this virtual circus, our minds go berserk.
We surf the waves of misinformation,
Conspiracies spun with no hesitation.
From flat Earth to alien invasions,
The internet fuels our imaginations.
Social media, a narcissist's paradise,
Where validation comes at a hefty price.
In a sea of selfies and shallow trends,
We drown our souls, our authenticity bends.
But oh, the trolls, those digital pests,
Hiding behind screens, they never rest.
Spewing venom with every keystroke,
Their toxicity spreads like a noxious cloak.
Privacy? Ha! What a quaint notion,
In this realm of surveillance and commotion.
Our data bought and sold like cheap wine,
To advertisers, we're just a dollar sign.
Yet here we are, addicted and enthralled,
To the internet's allure, we're all installed.
For better or worse, we're intertwined,
In this web of chaos, our fate confined.
So let's raise a toast to the cyber age,
Where irony reigns on every page.
For in this digital circus, we play our part,
Navigating the internet with wit and art.
It had begun again the terrorist threats
at first right at the height of my writers block
leaving beautiful gems surfaced from my minds
eye that was when the head lights parked baring
strange death threats plastered on license plates
interesting I closed my drapes shut my blinds shutters
when a red dot began dancing all over my living room
it had been two decades since my stalker fatal attraction
arrived with her gunman committing home invasions
in my townhome scattering a few poems an yet this
resulted in this man dying at my feet he was sent
to end my life over my own American poetry
there I was desperate with only the notion of the
federal bureau of investigations realizing I was this
confidential human source who wore wires pregnant
because the FBI told me my life was in danger on the
count of this madman had committed an arson murder
killing nine elderly person in hiding broken frightened
expressing myself through prose never knowing this
arsonist wise guy faked his death to get away with
the murders and decided to latch on to my American
poetry a score to pay off corruption to bully my
American poetry racketeer my life hence my death
for sport attempts on my life sending domestic terrorist
to enter my room ripping pages on my night stand
I can't imagine the bureau's reaction receiving my
desperate call of home invasions please help I screamed
thieves are after my poetry you see for me poetry
was this healing coping therapy for the panic attacks
the fear the anxiety the ptsd of surviving being
a confidential human source I could still hear
my fetus heart beating decades later seated
on my bed this red dots bounced off the wall
landing on my chest the killers were back enraged
basically forcing me to continue writing to fund
organized crime and corruption I peeked through
the blinds face to face with an assault rifle pointed
at my bedroom window could poetry really be worth
killing the writer how do one survive domestic terrorist
I close my eyes I see the gunman coughing up blood odd
I see the arsonist parked with my stalker a fatal attraction
literature is America's fine culture poetry is a gift from God
Written by Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
a young man with tounge lashed and lunch packed/
heading to a regiment, sprung on one flag/
swearin to fight till his own lungs crack/
preparin for life cuz he won't come back/
attached to the loud sound of the drum tap/
the gun blasts, clouds of smoke that leave the sun masked/
amidst brothers in uniform, all stung fast/
by storms and swarms of bees and ideals unmasked/
arrives and unpacks supplies in a region with bee hives knats and flies/
and a squad full of men, juss like him with wrath disguised/
anger and pride all hatched by false facts and lies/
enemies branded traiters, allies a band of saviours/
both fightin mercillisly cuz one man demands invasions/
so he fights bretheren from the same land and nation/
risks his life in a civil war for minimum standerd payments/
can't sleep or eat, his sorroundings are exploding bombs/
corrosion on his brain, the devotion gone/
an ocean of morbid pain, others become insane/
at first there was a surplus of ambition, pride and confidence/
now its lost as once was his common sense/
but durin the war his senses are back with a senseless impact/
in fact he wishes his senses weren't left and intact/
if they didnt work he would still feel strangely blessed/
cuz his senses cause him to smell and see his friends mangled flesh/
fifty years later he still fights with painful strains for breath/
in the place for death facing gravestones with names of leaders deceased/
sharpness of his senses have long left, his sight and hearing is weak/
meters and feet away from the burial ground his fear is increased/
on his knees, finds his friend's tombstone, squints, sees it and weeps/
it reads: "Another youth seized under the hypocritical concept of a war for freedom and peace"...
Form:
Chakpii!
Wooo! ! !
We have gathered
On grandfather’s stoneseats
After a hurried meal,
This moonlight...
Assemble, children, and hearken
To the tales we know
And heard from
Our fathers...
Chakpii!
Wooo! ! !
Oruru otu mgbe (Once Upon a Time)
The full moon, naked as birth, stood.
The silent leaves of mother forests
Listened;
All sternness loosened
In the face of the moon...
Conundrums,
Pulses,
Quizzes,
Proverbs...
A parched and famished ground once,
Now elated with
Grown ears; feet below in the
Wondering, dark and lonely soil
Chakpii!
Wooo! ! !
Oruru otu mgbe...
No distinction,
For among kinsmen
A child is the father of a man.
Charged upon native principles,
Conundrums,
Songs,
Quizzes,
Chants,
Oaths,
Verse,
Pulses...
Fortified in sponge-weave,
And voices coming from the one
Gong-hole
Scare
Cultural invasions,
Scientific blackmail,
Traditional irregularities...
Wafting fraternity,
The lunar concern ceases.
But we do not grope
In the dark,
For each eye is the other’s
Lamp.
Deliverance from mishaps..
From chaos..
Deliverance from misery..
Pain and suffering..
Cannot breathe..
Had drowned in sorrow..
Submerged so deep in murky dark waters..
Dull grey color surrounds..
Somber moments and reflections..
My fearful self exposed
At the surface it had invaded..
Invasions constant..
Uninvited guest ..
Teeth shattering coldness upon myself
Dictating negativity so effortlessly
Hauntingly it consumes me..
A wild goose chase arises ..
Painfully often..
I fearfully run away..
There is no where to hide..
I often resist..
My fearful self persists..
Shaking and trembling ..
Entrapment of my fears..
Limited and lifeless accompanied by a fog of pain..
The fog had exposed itself
To unlift the fog of pain..
I succumb to acknowledgment..
Confront my fears..
Expose my truth..
Submerge myself to freedom..
Breath the fresh, crisp, miraculous air of life..
Not to resist..
Only to accept..
Deliverance to acceptance..
Deliverance to healing..
Deliverance to love..
Immerse myself to the awakening of self..
Saturated in divinity..
I am Love..
EarthMothers
know we breathe in
a cooperative
domestic
micro-economy of sacred organic co-redemption,
Universal green ecological salvation
uniting EarthTribes' co-empathic
healthy democratic wealth
for restoring win/win global EarthHealing
Empowering
enlightened restorying of non-violent communication
in-between all MotherEarth's polypathic Voices
investing in polymathic
cooperative health/wealth ego/eco-binary Choices.
EarthMothers also glow
with dispassion for monocultural invasions,
global extractions,
degenerations
Of robust
polyculturally resonant
multicultural health
indigenously sustaining multi-generational Here/Now wealth
of cumulative
synergetic
integral Wisdom
Of EarthMothers
anxiously aware
that this global climate pandemic
is an unnatural public
and privately unspiritual defiance
of an anthrosupremacist
monoculturing
invasive patrilinear weed patch
Of inhumane
anti-religious world views
rationalizing StraightWhiteMale privilege
over sleek and sexy entertainments,
Investments in satiated comforts,
alcohol clouded abuse,
addictive gambling on unhealthy risks
of depopulating Earth's humanity
And civility
and complexly felt compassion,
nonviolent communication
ReBirthing EarthJustice
restoring resiliently healthy
multiculturing wealth
of regenerations.
Now since most women, Asians, Ricans
And the rest of the white America
Don’t understand why niggas do what they do
I've done a lil observation so...allow me to tell you.
Now as far us blacks can look back
We thought God overlooked us wit blessings
So over the years of oppression
We chose to rebel & fade to black
And truth be told you can't change the past
So when this world hits us wit uppercuts
We came even harder wit flurries of hooks & jabs.
Now as far as why most niggas be robbing,
Stealing, and killing is kinda hard to explain
Maybe because we ain't never had much
In this world so we'd figure we could change the game
Or maybe because most these employers
Won’t even think about giving a nigga a second chance
So that’s why you see niggaz posted on the block
Wit a pack in their D-Boy stance.
I then lived that thug lifestyle so
I know true niggaz blood in blood out
just a typical paper chaser back then
Robberies & home invasions
we get the money get in get out
Racism still exist, you know why
They still be hanging black bodies in the south
Problem is no matter how hard they try to kill us
We coming to hard to ever have a drought.
Last but not least every woman
Is just dying to know why most niggas cheat
Truth be told most these niggas ain't
Real so as far as a relationship they can't hold it
So they just b!tch up & fold
These niggas can't hold the load of what
Actually defines a real man
so if what you seeking is something
long term go on to the next man
You see most niggas real niggas
they don't talk much for a reason
true we can't over look our past
but to most niggas everywhere
the future of this white America needs us
niggas on the same old sh!t and
today's just new & beautiful
so what you heard from me
is a brief explanation why
niggas do what they do.
MY HORRID EXPERIENCE ARRIVED 8-14-2003 WHEN THE ST JAMES GANG ARRIVED WEARING RED DREADLOCKS QUEEN PIN TONI JOHNSON OF ST JAMES JAMAICA ALONGSIDE HER HUSBAND RASTA ANDREW HICKS DRIVING A WHITE TAHOE PUTTING MAC10 GLOCKS UP TO 8 YEAR OLD KIDS HEAD IN ST JAMES PLACE TAMPA FLORIDA TONI JOHNSON POSITION INSIDE THIS STREET GANG OF RACKETEERING HOME INVASIONS ROBBERY INPLANTING MULES WITH HEROIN AND DRUGS SENDING THEM TO CANADA TO MEET OTHER KING PINS THE YOUNG MULES ARE THEN TRADED INTO SLAVERY IN JAMAICA THE FEMALE JAMAICAN GANGLEADERS ANSWER TO SHAMUARAH FORRESTER GANG
LEADER THESE JAMAICAN FEMALE GANG LEADERS BEGAN BREAKING INTO MY HOME IN TAMPA THIS EXPOSED ME AS AN FBI INFORMANT THESE GANG MEMBERS PLOTTED MY DEATH TO PUNISH ME FOR WEARING WIRES PREGNANT FOR THE FBI BUYING WEAPONS AND DRUGS FROM JUNK SICK COPS SELLING DRUGS FOR GARGANO THE JAMAICAN CARTEL SOLD DRUGS OUT OF GARGANO SLUM PROPERTIES THEY ALL ARRIVED TO END MY LIFE JOHNSON AND JOHNSON DRUG CARTEL OF MULES LIVING ON 15TH STREET IN TAMPA TONI JOHNSON HER DAUGHTER JHORE JOHNSON IN A TWISTED ENTANGLEMENT WITH MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND SEVERAL ASSASINATION ATTEMPTS ON MY LIFE AFTER THE HOME INVASIONS THIS EXPOSED THIS FEMALE JAMAICAN TALIBAN GANG TO MY MENTAL HEALTH JOURNAL A FEW OF MY POEMS IT WAS THEN THEY BEGAN ATTEMPTING TO EXTORT MY AMERICAN POETRY MY AMERICAN IDENTITY INCLUDING RACKETEERING MY TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY CLAIM FOR THE DON DUNNA THESE VICIOUS JAMAICAN TALIBAN IDENTITY THIEVES RACKETEERING EXTORTING EMBEZZLING MY LIFE IMPERSONATING ME PERPUTRATING FRAUD UPON ME AND MY FAMILY MY VETERAN SPOUSE WAR HERO TONI JOHNSON JHORE JOHNSON ATTEMPTED TO GET VISAS IN MY NAME HACKING INTO MY VETERAN SPOUSE ATTEMPTING TO EXTORT HIS PURPLE HEART MEDALS HACKING INTO THE VETERANS AFFAIRS SEVERE THREATS BECAUSE I AM A CONFIDENTIAL HUMAN SOURCE FOR THE FBI I AM TRULY BLESSED I SURVIVED MONKIER TONI JOHNSON JAMAICAN GANG LEADER FROM ST JAMES JAMAICA TAINO WITCH OF MARTHA BRAE RIVER WALKING BACKWARDS TO HER DEATH GOD BLESS AMERICA
Rule # 0: We alone write the Rules (and We use them as tools when We murder the ‘mules’)
Rule # 1: Our Intentions are torqued (double Standards well forked as Our Wars are uncorked)
Rule # 2a: what We do defines Legal (no need to inveigle, decrees the Bald Eagle)
Rule # 2b: yes, Our Rules are The Rules (and those rules not Our Rules are de facto not Rules)
Rule # 2c: for Our Rules make Our might (the blind see it’s alright and sleep tight through the night)
Rule # 3a: yes, Our word must suffice (and will surely be nice, laced with sugar or spice)
Rule # 3b: never dare throw the dice (or to be more concise, never think once or twice)
Rule # 3c: simply take Our advice (which is but a small price to avoid sacrifice)
Rule # 4a: once We’ve come We’ll be staying (midst shells ricocheting, and bodies decaying)
Rule # 4b: night and day We’ll be preying (ignoring the slaying, no need to be praying)
Rule # 5: homegrown press heeds The Rules (helping fire Our fuels, by convincing the fools)
Rule # 6: ‘ebon black’ is Our white (definition of ‘light’ in the dead of the night)
Rule # 7a: We’re the cops of the world (with Our justice well hurled, when Our arms are unfurled)
Rule # 7b: if We lose, ‘lose’ means WIN (being experts at spin, need We twirl it again?)
Rule # 8a: what they think theirs, is Ours (’cause We’ve got all the powers to plant them ’neath flowers)
Rule # 8b: so WE loot where We like (and if need be WE strike, thus enriching Our reich)
Rule # 8c: Our invasions? defensive (for allies expensive, with sanctions intensive)
Rule # 9a: We can kidnap at will (and if need be We’ll kill, while the mocking birds trill)
Rule # 9b: yes, We kill when We chose (in Our faraway coups, where We’ve nothing to lose)
Rule # 9c: and We take ’cause We’re needy (and they? ’cause they’re greedy, which seems kinda seedy)
Rule # 10a: join Our new ‘Bored of Peace’ (thereby helping Us fleece; Our pale palms need the grease!)
Rule # 10b: costs a billion, not more (supporting the war for the company store)
Rule # 11: best abide by Our Rules! (else We cut off your jewels and feed you Our stools)