Me and John on love

Slowly take me in,
make way in the spaces between rib cages
and let me rest a little while.
I have been your love child for a while
and I just need to rest for a while.
I seek nothing but solitude in your chest cavity
Marry me so that our love will have validity.
Let our heartbeats not beat in vain,
But to sustain each other.
Like rain we oughta
renew one another
I knew not another
would touch me
Once I touched you last summer
you look through me
I look at you eighth wonder
as I lay and ponder
the ocean in your gaze
and pray the waves
take me under
drowning me in long forgotten sorrows so that your
pain can remind me how good it fees to love again.
To heal again, I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.
Happy to just hear the phone again.
Happy to say that I have a man.
My feminist gene sighs at me
Because all I can think about is how to make your life better.
How to make your role as Strong Black Man
in our love story not be so demanding.
Maybe it's me that's too demanding
maybe I'm bold like my father
and you too understanding
or never satisfied like my mother
Doves cry, their wings flutter
ever so lightly for the landing
I lay nightly with your hand in
my hand
I'm in a constant state of debate, prayer and planning
I wake and can't wait to smell your hair
and hear you dreams
and understand that I'll stand in
between your pillow and your tears
in case the scene turns nightmare
I was wrong once but please know I'm right here
right where
we belong
Where angels still sing our sweet song.
Heaven is envious of us.
Man wants to document us
So the patterns of love will follow us.
You and me, paired together through history’s time line as the
point of reference where everything was beautiful.
We wear full circles on lifeline fingers to tell the story
Of how star cross lover created consolations of be in love with
Hearts not just bodies.
We have been chosen to be the example to this
Real world how to leave in this surreal life and
Be Survivors.
And there are few others besides us
because our Flava
gives us a Real Chance at Love
And oh how I'd love
To Run way from the Projects
away from the past and past hurtful objects
and live the life of love and laughs the story books told
You're the Gibraltar Rock of Love
and there's no Rules on this Road
And truth be told… heartbreak was getting old
So I am glad you came to piece me back together.
Seal cracks that were left to be open scars
And you never ran from me
My open wounds never scared thee
You just placed my palm in your side and said heal me.
And I try to be your glue, filling kisses with Elmer.
Clear yet blue, because that’s our favorite color.
I let you sleep inside me because you said that
You feel safe there and for that time I feel blessed to be
Your womb carrying warrior.
Ready to die on the front lines for our house to stay a home.
You crown our seeds with royalty so that they remember where they came from.

Me and John Goode being very Random

He's your average Knee-ga-roe
he come through playing that Jigga high
acting like a gigolo
Sleeping in easy beds.
The cornerstone of his income are married woman,
Who have men that can’t please them.
Can't tease em right, can't eat em right
can't join em so they beat em might
kill em instead of treat em right
so they find the arms of another, just for a night.
She calls him daddy, he calls her whatever she likes.
He should feel bad, but someone has to love them.
Someone has to want em
Even if that someone is someone elses someone
But some come and some go
Even though some are dumb, some know
that he may never leave her ass
but every night he goes out searching for greener grass
Pastures that can remember where home is.
Knowing where a home is not just 4 walls and a roof,
But where your heart lives.
Where your art lives.
The King and Queen begot kids
But she can be the king of the castle
If he abdicates the throne
then the home is not his
or hers and in this game all loses.
She chooses a pipe dream fantasy,
While he’s glued into Girls gone wild 3.
And flavor of love on VH-1 & MTV
but he can't savor the love
of the one who like the savior
would die for his love
regardless of his sins and behavior
and he would rather save himself
than save her, reaching at his side
to feel his broken rib with no one
by his side to heal him.
Can you feel him
can you see him a little clearer
often time the man on the corner
is the man in the mirror
before we reach the coroner
we're all going to have to hear the
voice or reason
because you're the parliament and the proletariat
and lately you've been committing treason.
Being the reason why women clinch purse to chest.
Smoothing over dresses that have been wrinkled by the hands of times.
Fight a war we are destined to lose, because uniting to not fall didn’t hold true.

Another KORIM production

Cold summer's rain
Madness
seeking purity when
man
made prophets can't hold clarity in
hands
wrapped around jagged edges
melting
Mormon minds into thinking
ones
self is compared to unreachable
heights
building that have not been seen
through
corners of mental instability when cold summer's rain.

Haiku Time

I'm not a baby,

unless that's what you call me,

make love to me, B.

Sleep

“Sleep, sleep my baby”
“Sleep, sleep my baby”
“Sleep until your crowned KING”
“Sleep, sleep my baby”
Is the song that she whispers to
her baby while he is still in her belly.
Vowing that this time she was going to do things right.
No more will she stamp her seeds, return to sender,
But remember that she was born to be a mother.
She sings a little louder to
drown out the voices of doubt.
Sponge dry, needing the
kisses from her prince in waiting to
Sooth her troubled mind.
She remembers how good it feels to love again.
Since she the day she found out that her life was making way for another.
She had nothing but questions.
She wonders what his voice will sound like,
Wonders if the timber
will be more like his father’s or mother’s
Wonders if his laughs will be loud or silent
Wonders if he will sing tenor to be her harmony
Wonders if he will be a poet,
because he has wrote some of the most
beautiful verses in her womb.
She wonders if all her dreaming will be in vain,
She doesn’t want him to become a statistic and
she is left crying at his grave
Or will he defy the odds,
look his stereotype in the face and say
“no, not today. I have dreams I have to pay off and
have no time to wait”
She prays that he will find God before it is too late.
Hopes that her sins will not mess up his clean slate.
Hope that he will be better than her.
Be able to crossover color lines and be able to touch
people’s souls and minds.
She carved is in her skin that she was sent
to not raise a mere man but a king.
Ruling this world with purpose and kindness.
She will teach him how to slay men with pens.
Teach him that his limit is the sky and
tell him not to stop until he is on cloud nine.
Show him love is always better shown than told.
Tell him to remember the
songs that they made together.
She will tell him that she is a better woman
because she was his mother.
She will be strong and confident
Scared and brave.
She will call him warrior and he will crown her Queen.
So until he can take his rightful place
on his earthly thrown.
She will sing:
“Sleep, sleep my baby”
“Sleep, sleep my baby”
“Sleep until your crowned KING”
“Sleep, sleep my baby”
Until you’re ready to change the world.

Thought for the holiday...

Say hello to the you of who you are.
Say goodbye to the you of who you thought you were.
Love your imperfections because they make you beautiful.
Hate your perfections because they make you human.
Embrace your pen because your God's perfect poem.
Know that I would let death take me because life without
you would not be living....peace

I am thankful for....

.... not having to be with blood to call it home.
....finding my voice in poetry again.
... knowing that I have more people that love me than hate me.
....being true to my pen.
....loving hard and hating soft.
....forgiving those who hurt me and moving on with my life.
.... being a poet.
.... Michelle
...Shay
...Shatter
...Korim
....Shake
.... Brian
...13
...Zell Miller III
....EB
....LaLOVE
....."House of Words"
...... October 12, 1984
....My mom and Dad
.... for everything that makes me me.

I love you

For Shelia ... updated.

Mommy, don’t worry about me. I know,
that you know me leaving you was always God’s plan.
Sleeping silently, waiting to be born.
Let your heart not grow hard in the absence of me.
I need for you to bleed and heal. I need you to feel.
Please still find my fingers in your hair,
Touching your heart to give you understanding that
my passing is not in vain.
Continue to tell the stories of we.
Tell the tale of our history.
Make the stillness of my lungs be your reminder
to live everyday until breathing is no longer required.
Mommy, I have been transformed.
Waiting inside gates,
holding the hands of Abraham and David
being my assurance that my sins didn’t
weigh me down but lifted me here.
Now I am everything that my dreams decided
was too expensive for me to believe in.
I am the calm before the storm,
I am the north star shinning bright to lead the lost home.
I am the ink in someone that is scared of needles,
saying I regret nothing.
I am the fist of the women,
who today decided to fight back.
I am the first child support check after 18 years of him saying
“I am paying shit for that Kid”
I am the blanket, wrapped around a mother who gave her baby back to heaven.
I am love vibrating off ear drums.
I am the strength that a
victim found telling his rapist.
“Daddy I forgive you”
I hold children who’s bellies have been filled with hate and tape worms.
I shield soldiers,
dying on the front line for
their babies who are still to young
to remember their faces.
I am the tickle of funny bones in the middle of a funerals.
I am the broken bottles of pending AA members.
I am kids playing in school yards
not worried about
skin color or sexual preference. I am the rosary without the cross
clenched close to your chest. Being your reminder of things hoped for.
I am still me only better. I am still what you want me to be,
only greater. I am your protector and
in return you have
become be everything. Beautifully placed in my
history as my Queen. Please, continue to let me
live in your memory. Let your heartbeat now beat for 2.
See my face when
you stare at full moons. Live life anew. Let not your womb feel lonely without me. Fill your now vacant cavity of those who still need a mommy. I need you to live on without me physically because Spiritually I could never leave you. I still belong to you and
though God had another plan. Please know that I still love you.

Twisted...updated.

She sits here.
Trying to make sense about being here,
and she come up with no solution.
No way to explain why her heart
decided to take her down this road.
Why the man her soul desires is bound to another.
She wanted to see him like a brother but her heart
was always bothered by the way he looked at her.
How their late night fire side chats always lead to
something that neither of them bothered to ponder
would happen. I guess they always knew.
Broadcasting their true feeling was not necessary,
cause when you saw them together you can see
the stab wounds on her side and
the poison intertwining down his spine.
Star cross lovers just waiting for their
time to not feel ashamed about their feeling.
Straining to be in this world pretending that
they can exist without the other,
feeling ribs collapsing because they
don’t have the support of the other.
Hoping for validation that will never come,
keeping their true feelings alive with lies,
How could she have settled for this?
She wanted so much more but
all she has come up with is some other women’s leftovers.
They tried to stay away from each other.
Almost making is though their invisible heartache,
But almost doesn’t count and they are no exception
to the rule of this twisted love game .
They have accepted their orders and
have deployed themselves in each other’s arms.
Ready for the war at hand.
Ready for the stairs
and the whispers of “how could they”.
It is the question of a lifetime.
Now that their life lines have intertwined they have no room to look back only to look forward.
Looking thought Chrystal balls for salvation, but the vision is cloudy. Being muddy with the dreams of what could be to the reality of what they are.
To her family she will be known
as the house wrecker
who stops looking for her own man and took comfort any another.
They will call her a whore.
Slut
Bitch
And they will call him a dog.
A Good for nothing man.
I knew that you would be
Just like your father.
They will think of every name but what they really are… which is sorry.
Not because they betrayed their respective lovers but because they couldn’t help themselves.
They have shed too much ink and tears for this day not to come.
They knew that there revolution was never going to be televised but they knew it would come.
They have taken the broken pieces of their broken relationships and created a new one.
One that causes room for judgment,
but they cast none of their own,
for they have no more stones to throw.
They know that their twisted love will not come without battle scares,
but they have been fighting had,
ready for their badge of honor,
because what you want
you must work for…right.

Truth... the Korim project.

Don’t ask me where I am going,
But where I have been.
Because that is where my truth lies.
I have lied to myself daily,
Hoping that it will save me.
Only now I have lost me.
Reaching though my vines and branches
To catch a glimpse of my fountain of youth,
But I always evade me.
Don’t ask me my name,
But what my army calls me.
I have stitched tech 9’s to my spine.
Protecting what’s left of my lifeline.
I have been beaten, broken and bruised.
My crown melted down,
hanging down my neck
breaking my royal traditions
being the reminder of who I was
and recalls what I am to my family.
They call me king
Because I built my own dynasty.
Using my dead cells to carve my name inside Mother Nature’s womb.
Spelling “Remember me”,
Because she tries to forget me.
My father puts his arms that control my
Hours and mins around my neck, choking me,
But my breathing is not connected to my lungs,
But my heart and my thinking keeps my life pushing.
So I stand, here pushing through my pain
to be powerful in my master’s hands.
Ask me how many forgotten soldiers
Reside in me.
Why I welcome them in so freely.
Ask me why I let men come inside me.
I hold on to them,
like they are my last bit of salvation,
cause my foundation is cracking,
the glue that I use to hold me together is failing.
They say black don’t crack.
But this skin has been stretched so thin
that my very soul has been brought into question.
These questions have to be asked, so asked me.
These soul searching questions,
because I can’t ask myself.
I have tried.
I do not answer.
Ask me why I will love you more than me.
Ask me why dark rooms scare me.
Ask me why I need people around me.
Ask me why my innocence can't hold me.
Ask me why when I cry it rains, only on me.
Ask me why my light is so dim,
that it makes it hard for you to see the God in me.
Ask me what I think of myself,
the best description I have come up with is a perfect tragedy.
Ask me to forgive myself,
and I might look confused.
Cause I have forgotten how good it feels to let go.
I stopped asking questions because
I don’t understand the answers.
So don’t ask me where I am going,
But where I have been.
Because my destination is never ending.
My beautiful journey is just beginning.
Ask me for my beautiful stories.
Ask me.
Ask me.

Slam just went to a whole Notha LEVEL!!!!

http://www.podslam.org

Please check it out... this is crazy.

SPEAK

I am a king ... Alexis Marie

Just another picture of a Fallen Warrior... rest well Shannon

Shattering minds, the phoenix will rise.

So this is another exercise by Mr. Korim. Thank you again.

My sentence: Takes me apart so freely.

TAKES

He is my rain.
A daily forecast of what I dare not to see in myself.
I guess you can say that I am better for knowing him
but he continually thanks me for being there for him,
when I think that I have done nothing.
I love nothing more than being his ray of light
because he always keeps me illuminated.

ME

Coming in the mist of finding myself,
I gained him has family.
One that loves me unconditionally.
Though our road together started rocky.
He has become a part of my everything.
Holding me together when I feel like I have nothing.
He lets me use his shoulders as my comforters
And tell me to just be easy.
He never lets me fall,
with him standing tall is how we were built see.

APART

We have taken apart our games,
our claim to fame.
Taken our heavy cargo and carrying it to heaven
cause only God knows what to do with them.
We have just left enough time in our day to breath.
Not that never had the luxury of knowing the mechanics
of the motion but father time forgot to rewind the
pain that knocked our inhale, exhales off in the first place.
So, we have taught each other it is ok to just be
Brandon and Tova cause sometimes our alter ego’s just will not do.

So

So we have stared at each other,
face to face,
eye to eye,
open wounds to palms
saying “I’m sorry for the past”,
“ I love you as my present” and
“you will be my family of the future”.
We will never carry the same name but
our blood runs thicker than sometime parents.
He has been better than any real brother
because our bond could not be clumped under a mistake,
we choose our fate to walk side by side.
And we will be the last bit of pie to the grave by my side…
yeah we are just that deep.

FREELY

We are two birds flying south in the summer
because we have learned we must set our own path
to make it to our destined future.
We have made it through many storms and
I know that there will be more to come with him.
Rainbows will follow us home and
our pot of gold will be waiting.

Now

Formal apologies are no longer needed.
Being an American terrorist can be laid to rest,
you have invaded this heart of mine…
and won.
Let us make our father remember our names,
let us reclaim our fame.
Finding my family in poetry and
being beautiful as one.