Long Know nothing Poems

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I'Ll Smile 4 U

Stroll through the Illest Empire
So much heat feeling like we’re living in the fire
But we’re living under fire
Tell me how many shots must it take before my loved ones are crying at my own wake
Its time for a break from sad eyes I’ve seen grown men cry
It hurts to tell a loved one good-bye
It’s the same reason why they died
Hearts just too full of pride
Mothers praying their young’n wont be a victim of a homicide
Too many drive-bys blood shed for a block you really can’t call mine
Wishing we could turn back time
High off of nickels’ and dimes
Making moves to boost your grind looking for hope
But the hustle got us in a head choke
Don’t blame me for acting crazy cause this how the streets made me and you
To watch our back and throw bows and cuss
Cause you got to be tough when times are rough
I know your asking when will enough be enough
And truth is I don’t know but this is how it goes down
But if I make it out will you smile for me now

So many families struggling with poverty
I don’t judge cause that use to be me
Watching mom come home late
Barley any food on our plate
So young and life we already hate
Praying God bring us something great
My clothes were cheap imitates and kids called you on them for being fake
Knowing mom bust her ass to provide
But all your knock offs you begin to hide
Ashamed of what you own
I know how you feel I been there too
I see mothers walking there kids to school
And the walk is far when you cant afford a car
Mom hoping one day you’ll be a star
I know about being next to poor
Your local neighborhood liquor market is your grocery store
Wishing you didn’t have to go through that living off of food stamps
Cube the neighborhood is a trap but we’ll all be free
So smile for you and me

Even 2pac said smile for me
This isn’t how its always going to be unless you let it be
In our different way we’re all a G
Cause we’re trying to make it straight legit
Whatever your hustle never quit but don’t lose yourself in it
Cause you still got a long ways to go
Still got a long time to grow
Use what you know to get by or you wont survive
Remember to always keep your dreams alive
Whatever it is just do it and never try
The limit is the sky so keep your heads held high
And when you come to a hard road just always know nothing can keep you down
You’ll be able to come back around
So give yourself a chance
And I’ll smile for you now

JUNE ‘06
B.K.M.jr


I Am Here To Lend Your Cry

Salam, how are you there?
Wassalam, good, Alhamdulillah
How about the issue in Sabah
Nothing to worry
I am worried because you are my friend
I am okay; just want to know your opinion
No probs, what do you think of that opinion?
Does it hurt you personally?
Nope, it makes sense

I am not personally taking part, I have my own problem
Indeed but I am so sad, many don’t understand the situation
They are taking one side condemning Suluk in general
So as the other Suluk in Sulu archipelago 
Many also condemning Melayu in general
I always think about others
My cousin, a policeman is in the frontline

I am so sad, pray hard
Please cry with me
I am here for you to lend your cry
Can I pretend nothing happen?
We can’t pretend to be nothing to happen
Then rest and cry with me
To make people understand is not easy
Sometime we also take time to understand our situation
I am hurt to what happen, we are being fooled by colonisers
They ask us to inherit this misery

Hmmm I am so sorry to hear that
Hopefully you won’t hate the Suluk generally
So, as long as it does not contradict to my stand
What is your stand supposedly?
 At least I have one good friend from Jolo ancestry
I am a good friend because you are good

I know nothing about the war; I just wanted to know the peace
It’s really easy to smile and pretend that you are okay
Rather than telling people why you are sad
It’s not easy to imagine that war
I just want to keep it by my self
I wanted to keep this in my sleep
When I wake up tomorrow 
Peace is expected to blow
Let have this peace to reign right away









The poem is made through the conversation with Malay friends from Kuala Lumpur about the conflict happened in Lahad Datu. We shall never put the bangsa in general as what we are thinking is right: Suluk is bad and Melayu is arrogant. We need a better understanding to conclude that each bangsa like Suluk and Melayu have nothing to do with the situation. It is a matter of siding the truth and rights. I therefore personally accepted if everyone hates me because I am Suluk and that would make the world stay in peace and to save peace, I am willing to be called such: “Suluk is bad and Melayu is arrogant” but the “country and world is peaceful” is achieved. The war declared ended today by Malaysian authority. Let Us All Save Peace. Layag Sug. 11th March 2013, Sandakan, Sabah, Malaysia!
© Neldy Jolo  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Spiritual Fire

(This is only my opinion, only written to promote calm discussion or debate.  I know nothing, am not an expert on anything. If you are easily Religiously riled, spiritually offended, do not read this. Period.)

The Devil is smart, subtle; he can control one without the controlled being remotely aware.  He can appear beautiful and angelic like, surrounded by dazzling light.  He is content with making some simply complacent, not believing in his existence.  Complacency means that you will not consciously, prayerfully battle negative influences in the world.  He doesn’t need a lot of active foot soldiers. He can make you financially secure, a weekend content church goer, as he does many, when it prevents you from deeper scrutiny and higher spiritual growth.  Complacency helps him indirectly perpetuate evil influence in the world.  Pop Culture: meditation is good...but meditation should not be approached and practiced as a touchy-feelgood, New-age fad.  Without knowledgeable instructional understanding of mind, body, and spirit, meditation can lead to demonic possession.  When one puts his mind and body into trance, if not protected properly, if not first being in the presence of God (the importance of understanding shallow meditation  vs deeper meditation~ Omnipresence) one opens himself up to demonic possession.  Possessed often do not know it. It’s very seldom like the movies.  Psychic powers, psychic centers of the Cosmic Form, should not be stimulated unless one is totally prepared to become a priest of God, totally committed to selfless service of humanity 24/7.  One should not mess with Mysticism as though it were another hobby, or simply an occasional pastime. Two scoop day or one.  Subjects like Kundalini, spiritual fire for purification and transformation, should not be attempted without proper groundwork, without spiritual training – dedication involving total, complete surrender to Christ Principal (Son of God), otherwise it is tantamount to giving a 4 year old a loaded gun to play with.  Am I suggesting then, that one should not Meditate? Absolutely not.  And everyone starts as a novice.  Psalm 19 verse 14: Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.” All meditation, whether done by novice or otherwise, should begin and end in God’s presence.
© Joe Dimino  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Prose

The Plain Guy

The Plain Guy and the Beautiful Woman

“Now would you look at that” he said to his Pal at the bar as he nudged his shoulder.  “Look 
at that beautiful woman and who she's with”.  His pal looked over his shoulder to see one of 
the most elegant women he had ever seen, arm in arm with a man rather short, balding and 
rather plain looking.  “He's either got money or a big slong...who knows maybe both.  How 
does a guy as unattractive as he is get such a woman?” replied to his friend who nudged 
him.  “I don't know, I just don't know.”

Hey let's have some fun, come on, follow my lead.  

Hi there,  I'm Fred and this is my Pal Murray.   We saw the two of you come in and well, we 
just had ask you both a question.

The rather plain man spoke up.  “Excuse me but we don't entertain strangers with answers 
to questions we know nothing about.   Your both rude and condescending.  Now please 
leave at once.”

Fred and Murray were not easily dismissed.  Hey wait a minute pal.  We have an important 
question to ask the lady here.

The beautiful woman leaned to her husband and whispered into his ear....and smiled.

The rather plain man spoke up again.  “I believe that I know what kind of question you are 
going to ask.  So let me guess and see if I am correct.”

Okay Pal...go right ahead.....the two men smiled at each other.

“Let's see, you see before you a beautiful woman, yes?”

“Yeah, we do.”

“And you wonder how a rather plain man like myself might attract and yes, even marry such 
a stunning creature, Yes?”

Uh...yeah...that's right.

“And you think I must be very wealthy in order for her to be with someone  like me.  Which is 
insulting to both me and my wife.  Or you think that I might possess a manly tool or both, 
Yes?”

“Hey, we're asking the questions around here.”

“So let me come to a conclusion for you both”.  Said the rather plain man.

“I am a well published author, I am an accomplished concert pianist and I have a genius IQ.  
I enjoy fine art and find beauty in everything I see.  I adore my wife with all the love and 
respect that I can bestow upon her.  And most of all I get her......and she gets me.  Now 
leave before I kick your asses up around your shoulders.”

“Oh boys,”  The beautiful woman finally spoke.  “And he can do it to!  He's a very manly 
man.”
Form: Narrative

The Cross

The great tribulation of Jesus Christ as a son of man on
Earth and a son of God in heaven. The prophesy of 
God fulfill on the cross. The debt of sins paid by the 
Blood of Jesus Christ, image of a man.  
The infinite God of the universe came down from heaven to
The debt of the world. He gives justice to the sins of 
The sinners to save the whole world. He suffered and died, 
Buried and raised from the dead. His death guarantees 
Forgiveness and eternal life. God became visible and 
Intelligible to us. “ Oh come let us adore him Christ our 
Savoir and Lord “. He makes things beautiful,
According to his mercy He saved us. The nail pierced 
Hands of Christ reveal the love filled heart of God.

He carry the sins of the world on the cross, He punished by 
Men beaten and sorrowful, every single stroke of various 
Object use to beat Him causing a lot of His severe pain, 
Wounded and painted body with blood. 
The anxiety of the body is given in to emotion by pain.
The man put the hard substance forming a crown to 
His head that makes Him feel uncomfortable. 
The blood comes out to His head running 
Down to His eyes through His face freely. 
The anxiety of His body, muscle and vein broken and 
Damage, so merciful! On the rough road way 
He walks carry the cross beaten many times repeatedly, 
The men laughing again and again and spatted him. 
So strong pain, deep, through His senses image of a man.

On the cross, His hands and feet nailed, trembling His 
Whole body deeply pain, the blood flowing every beaten 
Stroke force of the hammer to His soft part of the body 
Through His muscle and vein wounded. The bloods carry on
Struggling pain coming here and then to His flesh. 
His breath fades away. An awful suffering of Jesus Christ, 
His uttermost being, whispering to His spirit to go on, 
Saying, “Father, why you just forsaken me... forgive them for
They didn't know nothing“, in your hands, I offer my spirit. 
The word became flesh, we victorious because of His cruel
Dying on the cross. Hosanna in the highest! Praising you 
Oh God in heaven and on earth. 

The heaven open and the angels of God ascending and 
Descending upon the son of the father in all His deity.

©Jocelyn Dunbar
2 April 2004
12: 30 PM

(My tears freely flowing down while I am writing this poem long time ago)
Form: Verse


Reborn

Pain once made my brain lame, but like a song says "im trading my shame"
In return I recieve Gods Kingdom and reign.
When feeling faint, I make an attempt at Holiness.
It seems that only you can take away this lonliness.
Focus my mind, change my heart. I no longer have to play a part.
No mask on the outside, No emptiness inside.
Ive got some things to decide but theres no need to hide!
I once knew a place so dark and deep. I stayed up for weeks under a bridge i could not 
leave.
Its an evil you cannot see. Now its joy that I seek. Im changing gradually.
Progress is slow but its a miracle that its happening.
Its a miracle that Im laughing!
At one time I couldnt smile. A secret double life that was built on denial.
Now when I face trial, my eyes will look like gold! 
For the simple fact that im finally coming home!
There was a blue sky outside but there was tears in my eyes,
when my good friend overdosed. At 16 he died.
From then I got worse. I would use anything, even if it was dirt.
Guity conscience? How about no conscience!!
My mind was gone, I had lost it!!
As far as emotions go, I know nothing about them. I'll be damned if im not learning 
though.
And self control. I need to man up and handle it so I continue to grow.
Once my story is told I pray you see hope!
There is no future in alcohol and dope!
To the bottom of a bottle, it goes quite quick.
Its pretty disgusting how I make myself sick.
But things are starting to click.
Im not running out on this even when I start to trip!
Life is worth it! With the right attitude I see things perfect. We deserve it!
A life full of love. Ive found peace that is sent from above.
I once was caught in the depths of isolation.
I still struggle with the same situation.
Life is no mystery! Its crystal clear to me!
I abandoned the fear in me and now I am free!
Anxiety is like a spirit that haunts me in my dreams.
I cried out to my God and he heard my pleas.
Honesty is honestly the hardest thing to do.
I put it in perspective, now I live by it dude!
Complacency has eaten me and beaten me. 
The streets know my name by memory.
Concrete is unforgiving. I am a member of the living but society had a fear of me.
I follow good examples like the men with experience.
They show me that theyre doing it but also that theyre living it!!!!
Form: Rhyme

One Hundred Degree Fahrenheit

I sat in the high chair with my legs crossed grasping for fresh air, perspiration is running down my dry face and my back is soaked with grace. The musky smell of the closet room backed me up into a corner and choking the dignity out of me. I look upon the roof to seek solace for my soul but the one hundred degree heat around me is scorching the hell out of me. It sends smoke up to the roof and engulfs the entire village smoke billows near and far chopping down every tree in its path and in second the ashes moves swiftly with the wind.

It’s my fire and it’s running hot, it’s my fire and I will give you all that I’ve got. When I see your face my heart is set ablaze, when I see your face, I am compelled to run the race. From I set eyes on you, it’s like a dream is about to come through, a dream that has long been forgotten and seem impossible to materialize but when I see your face I know you will come knocking at my gate.

I know nothing much about you but my heart is aching for you, how and when will the chapter ends, destiny is waiting for us around the bend. We have so much in common and I can feel you from a distance, the fire and the rain make no bones I will be there, but you must find me if you care.
 I have been sitting in this place for so long composing different types of song, songs that will never be heard; songs whose rhythm can only be heard from the instrument of my heart beat. 

It is the natural beauty that accentuate the elegance in you and the childlike spirit that’s surrounds you, and the feverish smile upon your lips looking at me from a distance and making your final wish. Oh if I could only touch the innocence in you.

I have been sitting in this space for more than three years with finger moving up and down the key board and a cantankerous old woman screaming at my door. The stench from the sewage perfumes the air saturating the sound of laughter far and near. The drilling sound of the machine penetrate the woodwork shop and land gracefully on the roof top .I sits quietly on the roof top giving you all that I have got.

The temperature is winding down and we will walk hand in hand wearing that golden crown. We will open all the doors of the prison cell and fly to Las Vagas and there we will wed. The fire is blazing and my heart is racing and my spirit is content.
Form: Narrative

If they shoot, tell my story

If they shoot, tell my story

A boy writes a letter to his mother
She will know nothing of it
Until
Something bad happens
But he knows something will
He knows the colour of his skin
He knows that it means a possible death sentence 

He gives his mom direct instructions 
Of what to do if they try to silence his existence 
He wants the world to know that he is the real victim 
And his killers are the real villains 
He would not allow the world to be ignorant 
All the time He saw kids like him being killed
He wanted it to end with him
He had a plan
To expose the violence
Of a system trying to erase innocent kids like him
He wanted the world to know the truth about politicians 
Who fake their sympathy 
To change the narrative 
As a distraction
For their evil actions 
He knew she would know what he meant

He didn't want his death to be in vain
He wanted everyone to feel the pain 
The type of pain black people experience everyday
Even if it means he has to die to make them pay

He wanted his mother to tell their story
Of when she found out she was pregnant And how she had already began to mourn him
Of her labour and how she faced discrimination 
How her pain was ignored
Even though there was something wrong
How she feared losing her son
Because of their racism 

He wanted the world to know about his childhood
How he grew up
And about his neighbourhood 
A place where everyone understood
That many of their people might not make it out the hood
How the corrupt system locked them up
And collectively stole every back kids innocence 
He told her to talk about his intelligence 
How he beat the education system 
And was preparing for college
And looked forward to his 18th birthday where he would get to experience adulthood 
How it was all he could talk about

His final words was about how much he loved her
About how thankful
He was for her protection 
Her love and affection 
And said no matter what happens she will always be appreciated 

A few weeks later
A month before his 18th birthday
One of his racist neighbours 
Decided this would be his last day

Later his mom found his letter
Cried for her sons murder
Promising her son She would avenge him 
She would get justice and make the world better
She would make sure the world remembers

Premium Member Free Will: Illusion Or Reality

Are we really free?
Free to chose to:
Go wherever we please? 
Do whatever we desire?
Be with whom we wish? 
Pick whichever thing we fancy?
Without coercion 
Without ever being obliged by an unseen force in 
A predetermined or predestined way?

How?  

How can we have free will to be wherever we
Wish to be
When:
Bound to earth we are with the 
Heavy chains of gravity
Obliged, incessantly to follow it 
And move
Around its circumference 
Around the sun  
Around the galaxy  
Around the universe, 
Having no chance ever to escape its
Deterministic laws?

Are we free?

Have we got a free will?
If yes, when did it start?
The day we were born or later on?
For the day we were born 
We knew nothing of:
What we were
Who we were 
What we wanted
What we needed 
What we desired 

Subject were we to our bodily organs and
Their functions
No control had we over:
Our heart
Our liver 
Our kidneys    
Our spleen
Our blood circulation
Our brain 
And had no idea of
How to defend ourselves against
Deceases 
How to produce blood
How to digest

We had not any control then and we have
No more control now as adults

How then are we free?

In what respect?

Is it because we choose A over B?
To be here or there?
To do this or that?

What if our choices are just the
Result of the working of nature in us?
The outcome of ideas and  tendencies, 
Implanted in our mind and soul by Man or 
Mother nature? 
 
Doesn’t our acceptance of free will seems
Like declaring:
The earth goes aroud the sun because 
Of its free will
Or  
A stone falls as a result of 
Its free will
Or 
A seed spouts because of its free will
Or
The salmon, after venturing for years in 
The ocean, returns to the river it came to life, 
To lay its eggs, out of free will?

Or is free will the result of 
Our Lord the creator and creator of the universe 
As they say?

If that is the case then we may ask:

Would the wisdom of our God entrust His creation to us?
To our free will to do as we please?

If the answer is yes, then 
What the result of such freedom would be on
The world God has created?  

Whatever the answer may be, the mystery
Will linger

For
 
We, know nothing for certain
Hence
We just believe!  


© Demetrios Trifiatis
  13 OCTOBER 2014

Premium Member While Beauty Sleeps

While Beauty Sleeps


While Beauty sleeps, there are souls upon this earth that have never known her. Many seasons have passed and her eyes are still shut. She is hiding behind pavements of tar and cement. She is drugged from the smell of burning rubber and plastic scents. 
Styrofoam has compromised her health. There are souls upon this earth that have never laid eyes upon her. I am here to testify, to tell all who listens, that I am a poet-I came to tell you things that only poets can tell.
There are souls that I ennoble while looking through my eyes, they can see the deep woods, the flowing fountains, New earthlings can now envision the fragrances of a million blossoms bobbing, bobbing to the cricket's nightly song.
I am the architect rebuilding the walls of time... Desperately trying am I, to sing my song before more mortals die; To sing my loving words before more mortals die. There are souls upon this earth. it’s' sad but very true – Humans who know nothing of love and beauty.
We all must live to die or die without ever living. We stumble and sometimes fall; However, we have that something, that lost souls never saw.
We know grace and mercy, we know compassion, love, and respect; We knew mountains and valleys. We also knew blue skies without chemtrails. We knew praying mantis, we knew beetles and snails. 
We knew breadfruit; and why dandelions and mushrooms grew. We know where beauty sleeps, so we live to tell the poets tale. We speak of days gone by and gently arouse her beauty as we speak.
I am not an artist of spoken word, neither am I a profit, I am but a poet shaking beauty gently, awakening her from a long, long nap...Reminiscent of when innocents reigned as king.
I do not recite for money nor do I sing for fame. I only report what my heart records, and look forward to another spring. I have danced with the humble, and shared wisdom with noble queens;
My excitement overflowing brings joy to eager ears. Loves fury has entitled me, to shield you from your fears. Myself, yes me, I whisper softly, as not to disturb hate. 
God bless you on your journey; I can no longer interfere, nor save you from your fears. 
You have what you need to carry on, and I know that you are able. 
When love gave birth to folklores and fables...I gave birth to poetry babies.

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