Long Untitled Poems
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I make mistakes
No im not perfect
Made some decisions
That i know were not worth it
I cried about certain things
That i knew could
Help me for the good
I tried to do things on my own
Not realizing my help came from the throne
For the first time in my life
I didn't lean towards my own understanding
I started to pray when life got so outstanding
I prayed while things were worse,or when things got better
Determined that i could make it through any kind of weather
I am not doing this on my own
In this world i cant make it alone
Lean not towards my own understanding
Except the flaws i will have thee
Pick my self up keep going
My mind needs restoring
God will help me conqueror
All things
Be my uplifter
When i fall
He's always right there
Just waiting on my call
I am so afraid
He said don't live in fear
He said my daughter
I will wipe away your tears
I didnt give you the spirit of worry
Oh no
I gave you the spirit of Me
I gave you the spirit to overcome anything
I am only a call away
Never left you
Im here to stay
Just waiting on you
To fully depend on me
What you do with your life
Is fully up to you
I am your toolbox
There fore you have the tools
I am your strength
When you feel weak
I am your confidant
Make you complete
Dont you know you i adore
You are all that i created you and so much more
I am not doing this on my own
In this world i cant make it alone
Lean not towards my own understanding
Except the flaws i will have thee
Pick my self up keep going
My mind needs restoring
God will help me conqueror
All things
Be my uplifter
When i fall
He's always right there
Just waiting on my call
Lord i need you
More than ever before
I need you to continue
To open doors
I love you
Lift your name up high
Please show me how to get by
These storms
I just want to be right with you
Be reborn
Lord i need you more than you'll ever know
Here i am
Lord take control
Whooooooooaaaaaaa
I am not doing this on my own
In this world i cant make it alone
Lean not towards my own understanding
Except the flaws i will have thee
Pick my self up keep going
My mind needs restoring
God will help me conqueror
All things
Be my uplifter
When i fall
He's always right there
Just waiting on my call
Repeat until chorus fades
Written by :Concetta Hardnett
2/11/2017
(for chikbok girls four years after elegies of lost)
And we opened the book of remembrance again
Tickling all ears that are designed to be deadly.
We filled the cups & buckets with tears of blood,
Bloody tears as the cloud rises from dark night
& the horizon of our lives radio out our prayers
in pleasure & pleas recording poetry into broken
Rhythms of the kings bird' songs singing elegies untold. We recoiled this pages of cries into folded arms. Lost is our liberty ephemeral into chaos.
This light of darkness are now printed in our
palms of history tormenting our own feelings.
they left home through the corruption of their father's land. You know, their lies ferried them
into Sambisa to go & tell a tale of their crimes.
the chromosomes of their pigments lacked the bravery within the wrinkled nose of their cheeks.
Lives are buttered fireflies &worms of mediocre...
We may not know how pains taste until untitled chapters of sorrow unfold in our lives to seek revengeful voyage of our sins towards our home.
We televised their lies on the national televisions,
tilted the head of our cocked brain into gadgets
in a ballroom of miscreants clothing our beliefs.
I opened this book of remembrance again,
For my lazy sisters that struggles effortlessly amidst leaves and shrubs of looting leaders.
for their tears composed a musical notes,
for their fight created astraying street steer
I held upto these fallin' memories in a graveyard
into the abstract demon of my noble moralities,
into black races, into an abstract journeys.
brittle of the papers written in absence of our
ourselves, in the pictures of our lost self issues.
we will gather these soothsayers to the cloud
to sooth out those prilgrim girls in the moon.
till then, let this dance be of survival &revival,
of those deaf & dumb girls kept in the bosom of emptiness. they made them voiceless like the pages of a blank books but we know all their magic tricks in the closet of their ignorance.
No chikbok, no Dapchi girls but looting politics,
Politics that has strange mouth & shadows.
Until this madness is cleansed from our souls
Point towards your chambers & crack your mind
We are mocked movies trying to be seen by all,
a documented fairy tale in the heart of all.
©John Chizoba Vincent
From_A_Pen_Refusing_frustration
It was only suppose to had been just an innocent friendship
at least in the beginning that how it started out to be,
I was confident in believing that I could actualy be friends with him
but at that moment I was much too blind to had even seen.
That in all actuality he wanted more from me
way more that I was not able to give at that time,
I never had imagined in my wildest dreams
that just my very presence still remained on his cunning, devious mind.
He would always greet me with a sincere smile on a daily basis
whenever he would see me around in the neighborhood,
He accepted me for me with open arms and good graces
at that time he made me feel happy and good.
Suddenly, what started out as a friendship that was built on innocence
made a turn unto the path of regrettable sin,
That is when he made the bold step of taking advantage of my innocence
by wanting to be more than just friends.
At that tiem my life was filled with so much chaos and stress
and all seemed so dark and drear,
I felt that out of my life was gone all of my happiness
for myself I no longer gave a care.
He told me things that I had wanted to hear
for, it had been such a long time ago,
He had made all of my pain and despair disappear
he made me feel wanted and needed so.
But like a fool I had allowed him to take control of me
I was definitly in way over my head,
That night I found it so hard to believe
that I was actually in his bed.
After the sinful act had been over and completed
and I silently walked out of the door,
I asked myself: "Oh, God ! What on earth have I done?
I feel like such a whore!"
I cried and cried what seemed like an eternity
and I became violently physically sick,
What would my finace think of me?
was all I could ask myself at that moment.
That night when I had finally returned home
I got down on upon my knees and just prayed to God for forgiveness,
That night I never felt so sad, confused, and all alone
cheating was not in my nature, only innocence.
I could not believe that I had hurt the man that I loved
by betraying him in that way,
I was so naieve in sharing one night of lust
with a man that just wanted to get laid.
I allowed myself to be put in a situation
a situation that had gone out of control,
I was just too weak to resist temptation
but right now, I am strong enough to know.
Today is true as any other, that Christ's sacrifice is the only truth that proclaims victoriously,
the deliverance of eternal death, my only means of salvation, for him willingly embracing
God's wrath, and receiving the punishment of my sins, as a warrior he faced death.
Asking forgiveness for the ones, who greedily tortured and mortally wounded,but in all this
he had control, His life was freely given.
An insurmountable sacrifice, the KING of KING'S has risen! and into me he so humbly
brought, the embrace of his perfect love and attention, even though my self-induced lusts
after sin. have removed me so far from God's perfect will, leaving me completely depraved,
bruised, and hopelessly broken.
Please God forgive this blatant sinner, the wounds i've endured i'm so ashamed, have all
been self-inflicted.
Please God wash me new, in the blood of your son Christ Jesus, placing me as a new
creation in the body of Christ, when truly i've earned God's judgement and wrath.
Praise and glory always be to the one, he conquered death and gave me a new life, he freed
me from myself, and from eternal damnation, he offers the gift of deliverance, how can i be
so ungrateful as to continue in my sin?
And yet you pour out your perfect love, grace and mercy, and discipline me when i need it,
and i am so eternally grateful, because without you life is darkness into which i wish i was
never created, but all things through you there is victory, so glory and power, and praise be
to you, you've delivered delivered me from death.
You picked me up and brushed me off, and told me "it would be o.k., but if i followed you i
would endure hate and persecution, for proclaiming your salvation.
But hey if God's got your back, your a Warrior of Victory, His light destroys all fear, there is
nothing that man can do to rip God's love away", your KINGDOM come, your WILL be done,
on EARTH as it is in HEAVEN.
Make me your disciple, because removed from you i am openly wicked, self absorbed, drug
induced, a pitiful abomination.
All power praise and eternal glory, i am forever grateful, though i constantly stumble, may i
humbly repent in the name of your only begotten son, CHRIST JESUS.
Your indescribable gift to spend eternity with you, under your perfect rule, praise be to God
for your free gift of salvation.
Breaking into abandoned psychiactric centers isn’t as fun as it seems.
Oh, some nights have I had.
I don’t feel too well.
I just need to let everything pour out. To come out onto the screen and paper and wall and floor and everywhere I
can transfer it to.
Once again I am sitting here alone while my roommates have all gone out to drink. Drink. Drink. College. College.
Are my children going to be disappointed to hear I wasn’t the party girl? Will they be sad that I don’t have repulsive
stories of vomiting and one night stands? Why do we do this?
Is that it? To tell our kids - to create a person - to create a personality - to construct a mask.These masks are not
colourful or flashy or expensive. These masks are plain white plaster. Whitewashed wisdom. Everyone wears this
mask. No defining characteristics. You can’t really tell if the person next to you is your closest friend or a complete
stranger
Here I sit with my eyes closed. This entire time. I did all those things and pushed myself further and further into a
sedated state that I can hardly remember.
Suffering is the best thing for an artist. Every artist was an addict. An addict of some sort. Some sort. Some sort of an
addict. Maybe that’s what I need - maybe that’s why I still do this - maybe that’s why I stay home when everyone isout
having a “good ol’ college time.”
Not a recluse. I swear.
He can’t hear me but I can hear the sludge of sounds though the telephone. I’m sitting up so as not to let my thoughts
become sluggish although they do such a thing on their own. My entire body has been injected with a cloud. It is
floating through every extremity, every vein, every cell. I lay limp and wonder how it’s possible to even do this. To
function at all.
My stomach feels empty but I know what it holds. The imagine in my mind of my insides housing some bodily fluid
and a plethora of dissolving pills. Plethora may be an understatement. Dissolving and fizzing and melting and the
thought of that the thought of that the thought of that... that makes me sick.
Dissolving in cold stagnant water. Sitting sedating. Satisfied, thouhg? I don’t know how I got here. I’ve been sitting
here the entire time but what happened between when I first took seat and this very moment.
All of you. Take off your masks.
Oh well here I go again,
wishin for a dream that I could be wrapped in,
entrapped in,
torn away from addiction,
destroy the tele…
vision they strive to force upon you,
its all false but you know I’m true.
They will not protect you when you scream your broken cries,
they are merely evil faces of masked men behind illuminati eyes
with which they hypnotize,
brainwash you with their lies.
I've got those deep thoughts pouring in,
all the roads I've traveled down
conditions I have traveled in
here in my pretty town,
the 910 deserves a crown.
East Coast I'm representing,
I promise you I am not venting.
High on that purple haze,
And still haven't slept for days,
excuse these bloodshot eyes
with a krispy kreme glaze,
some will try to say its just a silly phase...
My mind is so graphic,
use words like special tactics,
unmistakable like D'Jango,
or a peace signs' angle,
destroy the crave for war and struggle,
no need to explain all the trouble,
with places burstin’ into rubble,
Rebel! Rebel! We’ll show ‘em hell!
I’ll be fightin’ when I'm dead,
kick and scream till my blood is shed,
let authorities know the message will be spread!
Put on a show with a little bit of passion
or the bad things will continue to happen.
Get the love through your head,
all this hatred should be dead,
what I'm saying must be said,
before the gauge goes into red.
With vocabulary this brilliant makes a female more vigilant,
like brothers boston what I speak
my words alone will make you weak, make you faint,
Like blood spilled by hands of a vigilante saint,
trust me lifes too short,
you dont have the time my young cohort,
wait until your words make an enemy
cause their threatened by the uncertainty
that you will make it this far
make a point unlike this war
next thing you know you see ‘em sweat
words fresh like paint drippin with purpose,
makin ‘em wet.
I finger paint a master piece with a just simple rhyme,
just don't pull your piece on me just let me speak, my mind,
while I unwind, rewind all this blasphemy,
continential catastrophe,
I may have to beg and plead so that my boys can rest in peace
sorry for the interruption,
don’t blame me for the corruption,
for now I'll put my words at ease,
hope you told someone you loved them today and that it wasn't a white lie,
just a tease.
04.27.2013
Form:
(Verse 1) Yo, lemme paint a picture, country sunset glowin' Down a dusty backroad, where the crickets keep on goin' Radio hummin' low, some D'Angelo smooth and right Got that "Untitled" playing, bathed in the porch light Thinkin' 'bout a shawty, yeah, she got that certain sway Like a sweet Southern melody, at the close of the day She could "have it her way," that's a fact I understand And if she wanted to decide, I'd be right there, lending a hand. Said if you get a feelin', that familiar, deep inside The one that makes you wanna move, nowhere left to hide Won't you come closer to me? Let the rhythm take control Like a soulful country ballad, reachin' for your soul.
(Verse 2) Reminds me of that Silk joint, the way she walks, it's true Got that "Freak Me, baby" energy, shining right through. Not talkin' 'bout no recklessness, but a confident allure Like a firefly in darkness, somethin' you can't ignore. Let me talk to you softly, 'bout intentions pure and deep More than just a fleeting moment, promises I wanna keep. Remember Brandy on the speakers, "Top of the World" we vibe That feelin' when you connect, like nothin' can divide. Used to dream of gettin' there, same ambition in my stride Now I'm lookin' at her beauty, got nowhere left to hide. From Helly Hansen dreams to buildin' somethin' real and strong This ain't 'bout mini mansions, where we truly belong.
(Verse 3) Now that 3T joint hits different, "I would do anything for you" That raw, unadulterated truth, shinin' fresh and new. Sittin' here tonight, thinkin' 'bout her gentle touch Wish she was here beside me, wouldn't ask for nothin' much. Just her presence, her laughter, the way she looks my way Takes me back to simpler times, at the end of the day. Like Anthony Hamilton croonin', 'bout the love that feels so right "Cornbread, Fish & Collard Greens," under the moonlight. Knew just what I had to be, when I saw her in that light Like an appetite awakened, burnin' ever so bright. To every dude in sight, she stands out, a queen for real This ain't no competition, this is truly how I feel. By then, I just gotta step up, and let my feelings bloom This ain't just some casual fling, escapin' from a lonely room. This is somethin' deeper, a connection hard to find A soulful country R&B blend, etched upon my mind.
My life is untitled
Maybe because I have no direction. I am always stressing to keep with the group in fear of abandoning the safe shield from opinion. Shielding me from the choice of a goal in a life that has no meaning. A directionless goal with no beginning or end so I’m stuck in my place like glue on the soles of my shoes or ice climbing up my legs like vines on the side of an old mansion. A dam blocking the river of my life, so my water stops flowing forever. But determination can break this dam down and let my water flow again. Persistence can cut those vines down and make the house look new. Resilience can lose the glue on my shoes and get me moving in the right direction again.
My worth is unnamed
Continuing to be belittled by a society of people with no idea of the weight that their words hold. I contemplate my worth with no idea how to continue in a world where no one cares about my next days so I’m stuck feeling betrayed. My worth has no name because it is untamed, but I’ll act like I’m okay because who cares? Who cares about my hour-by-hour? Who needs a play-by-play of my miserable life? No one. Because no one would bat an eye if I suddenly went quiet. Suddenly stopped smiling. Suddenly felt tired. My worth is unnamed because my worth is unimportant.
I am unworthy
Unworthy of the things that are given to me. The things I did not do anything to achieve. The things that feel unearned in the grand scheme because I am but a person with nothing to be achieved. I think that is something that we can all agree. Just like my unnamed worth and untitled life, my unworthiness is very apparent. My life with no meaning and worth with no reason is beginning to make it all feel unseasoned. I’d like to think I am an amazing person who deserves the world and so much more, but the days feel longer with the world’s weights on my shoulders. Never giving me a minute to catch my breath, I am tired. Tired of being unable to be like the rest. Always happy and without distress. When will my time come to smile and not be so depressed? Will I ever get to address the mess that is my life full of tests? Will I ever feel worthy enough to appreciate my worth? I feel like I am being sucked up by a black hole with no control of my soul I am helpless.
1) haiku* untitled:
october winds
of scattered maple leaves
~ handwritten poems
2) a three-line poem titled:
OF AUTUMN LEAVES AND ALL
a three-line poem is open to free verse, alliteration or rhyme
October winds wakening the muse within the silence of each mime
advice to all that if you can’t do the time don’t do the crime
3) a free verse poem titled:
SO LONG AGO
in the flurry of October winds
the dance of scarlet maple leaves
reminded me of how I loved you so
*HAIKU RULES
I joined a national Haiku club to discover they are sticklers for rules and there are MANY MANY haiku rules ~ HAIKU is exactly the opposite of free verse in every possible way ~
In a nutshell ~ haiku are supposed to be observations of a moment in nature without embellishments, no passing judgment, no use of fantasy or abstract concepts. It's basically two simple ideas with a ‘turn’ that is essential: it's almost like the punchline of a joke but haiku is not really meant to be funny per se.
Here is an informal list of HAIKU GUIDELINES:
1. 5-7-5 is the max syllable count – “haiku should be read in one breath” so there can be less syllables per line.
2. ALWAYS NATURE-related with usually reference to 1 of the 4 seasons: spring, summer, fall, winter.
3. OFTEN the ‘turn’ is on the second line (takes the reader in another direction).
4. NO unnecessary capitalization.
5. NO title (if you must, use first word(s) of haiku).
6. NO unnecessary punctuation at end of lines.
7. NO use of abstract concepts (must be concrete).
8. NO personification.
9. NO unnecessary adjectives or adverbs.
10. NO full sentences: it’s a poem of few words with much left unsaid.
11. NO use of fantasy.
12. NO similes allowed.
13. NO explanation of haiku in last line.
14. NO heavy emotional words (should be felt not read).
15. MUST have a feeling of the present moment (NO past or future).
16. MUST be more than a description.
17. MAX 2 ideas (scenery + thought).
18. Rare use of I, you or we.
Sometimes we love what we created and it goes against many of the haiku rules ~ there's nothing wrong with creating “haiku-like” poems, they can be quite effective… we just should not call them ‘haiku’.
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Posted on May 19, 2021
Untitled
We dance across the heavens, like shining stars,
to the never ending beat of our universes heart.
Its song, time – sometimes – becomes dull, grey,
aches of sentiment, in the throes of lofty sentimentality
that becomes red dew, flowering over the cornea, of a rose
releasing its sweet fragrance, ever so slightly, lightly
down the sides of its imaginary nose.
Sentiment, envy, desire, so anther life goes.
B. J. “A” 2
April 18th 2003
Untitled
I stand on the edges of a desire,
a desire to be all that, – in this life –
I have never been, – in all likelihood –
could never be, for it is not in me.
Yet, in me, it is, as I read biographies,
autobiographies, ancient histories,
I see the dream – illusive as it seems.
Heavy sheets of liquid crystal hang,
fall before these old brown eyes.
Only, the telling comes in ripples
that dot the landscape of reflections
painted upon the cold black surface,
of a pavement that lays before me.
A sad portrait is painted every day,
it comes in the reflections, of those reflections.
Life has flown me through valleys richly
carpeted in jewels, emerald green and serine.
Life has dragged me over rough, ancient mountains,
dropped me over sharp edged, rugged cliffs.
Life has hauled me across screaming creeks,
down raging rivers without a paddle.
Life has thrown me into the fires of hell,
upon plumes of smoke, sent into the ether.
Life has guided me into heavenly spaces
where one will find beautiful places.
Life has shipped me into the shadow less abysses
of blackness where light of night stars hang
in the endless skies where one opens eyes
B. J. “A” 2
April 19th 2003
Untitled
Life lived – looking back –seems to have been as poverty laden
as the life that lays before these tired old feet – its faden
with inactivity, motiveless, motionlessness passages of time.
The richness in both – lost to another time and state of mind.
And who really may care ?, about the poverty in both.
And who really may care ?, about the richness of both.
And who really may care ?, about the memories of both.
And who really may care ?, about the life or death of both.
With Easter at hand.
It seems the hand is the only one who cares.
Assumed death ?, assumed resurrection ?
B. J. “A ” 2
April 20th 2003