I Don’t Write For You

image

I don’t write
because I can
or to have you
in the palm of hand
I don’t write
because I do,
I write because I have to.
Hunger turned inside out
causing me to quake
scribbling like a junkie
prepping his next bake
The high to write
grips my soul
as I begin
to shake
Held fast by
a passion I
never want to escape
No I cannot put it down
until I have rendered her
her due
as I slowly whisper
to myself,
I
don’t
write
for
you.

#blackeagledream

Butterfly on a String 

Reconciled

to write

as

I do

a

strange twist of fate

for

loving

you.

Embracing that

you

be elusive

yet

cling….

Like

a

butterfly

on

a

string.

You offer hope

as a candle

shining brightly

in a

darkened place.

Life

has not

been

kind

but

you’ve never been one to complain.

Always pushing forward

keeping

your priorities straight.

You….

whose

love

has risen

above the fray –

A truly quiet
and

gentle soul…

Lisa

is

her

name.

For Lisa

#butterflyonastring
#blackeagledream

All Rights Reserved

Copyright is mine 12/25/2017

Measured Lines _

image

Style is measured
in
increments
of
time.
Some people
write,
some people
rhyme.

A
writer,

a
storyteller,

a
keeper of dreams;

it
really
all
feels
the
same
with
me.

Words
are
the
boundary
lines
of
our
very
existence,
our
lives
measured
in
the
path
we
take.

Malcolm X knew,

image

Martin Luther King too.

image

When
we’ve gone
our
words
will
remain,
celebrated,
or
not.

So yes
write;
and
to
yourself
be
true,
yes
write
until
the
pen
does
bend,
and
the
warmth
of
the sun
is
not
felt
on
your
face
again,
any
more.

Link

Y>our Fears

Life
as a rule,

never
turns
out
the
way
we
hoped
it
to.

But if you live your life
with
clarity
and
purpose,
you
begin
to see.

Like
the
tolling
of the
bell
in
the
Square that calls to me.

In time

we
all
must
go
there,
to
embrace

our fragile humanity.

We
are
much
closer
to same

then

further apart,

depending
on
the types
of
seed
we
cultivate
in
our
heart,
the
source
of
all
y>our
fears.

#blackeagledream

All rights reserved. Copyright 2016

Rippin [the disclaimer]

This blog

will

not be begged

borrowed

or shanghied son

no not beat up

sifted

whipped

nor spun –

it is my

intellectual property

and

my physical property too

so it shant

be quoted sampled or quipped

or

otherwise

fucked

with.

Enjoy the day.

Kawika.

Read

the

Black Eagle Dream Collection @

blackeagledream.com

#rippin #rippinthedisclaimer

#blackeagledream

Mandela: Words and Concord

wpid-nm_mandela_old_photo_110127_16x9_608.jpg

Peaceful words, comforting intentions,
we’re abstract
without
dimensions.

Mandela knew
and had seen;
peace
war
prison
eight by seven,
African man’s heaven.
It will take more
than words
to bring
men
peace.

It was true then,
and is true still.
People of earth
in every land
can you not see?
Man flails,
woman wails,
children die,
all cry.
O mankind,
brother of mine,
will not
a sign be given
and seen;
so all people
can be truly free?
Why is it
you cannot
comprehend
of
what I speak?
This story is through; adieu.

(100 words 4U )

All Rights Reserved 

Copyright Dec. 2015

#mandelawordsandconcord

#blackeagledream 

Posted from WordPress for Android

With You

Commit

to
yourself
to
be ever true
less
you be
misguided

from

the
essence

that
lies
within
you.

Depending
upon,

contractually
speaking,
and
in
consideration of;
the
height,
and
depth
of
your
love.

To grasp
the
vastness
of
what
Love is

and what it is not,

what
will be,
and
what
is taught.
What is
known,
and
can’t be bought.

Ever shifting
are the
dunes
of mankind;
unsteady
in
all his ways.

Wandering,
inside
your
head,

let
truth,

your
heart,

be fed,

and
let
the
possibilities,
begin
and
end;
with
you.

For Kameko.

All rights reserved.

Copyright 2015

#blackeagledream

Having   


met you

in Barbados

while

walking

on the beach,

I observed
foamy

blue

water

caressing
your
quiet
feet.
Our eyes
became
entangled
in more
than a casual way
We ended up talking —

walking
down
the
beach

that

day
But
I won’t even front,
even if
I
could

because
it

was

that

God

given
complexion
that
arrested
my
attention
on
that
warm
Bajan
day.
It was
your
countenance
over
conversation
carried

by
the

wind,
It was
your

natural

vibe

reviving
my soul

again

With your

alluding
to

the facts

as

you

understood them

then;

and
that I should rise up to confront

life….

And…
that things would turn out better

if I did.

From then to now

and

now

and

then

it

has
been
simply
unspoken

a bond

unbroken
holding us

together

as friends…

Now married to you….

thirty two years later,

we walk together

again…

Having met you
on

a
beach
in
Barbados.

End.
For Lisa

If this doesn’t apply to you don’t trip but if it does, then this is my little jingle for you. 😎

Rippin [the disclaimer]

This piece will not be begged, borrowed or shanghied son no not beat up sifted whipped nor spun it is my intellectual property and my physical property too so it shant be quoted sampled or quipped or otherwise fucked with.

Enjoy the day.

Sincerely, Kawika.

Picture @Pinterest

#rippin

#blackeagledream

All rights reserved.

Copyright

May 6th, 2017

To You

Surrounded

by the
memories
that
persist
on
any
given
day,
squeezes the hurt,
out
comes
the pain.

We could use
a
little
time
for
ourselves,
to
get
away.

Talk things out,
have
our
say.

Reflecting back
on
the life
that
we
have
lived,

we
shared
our
tears,

we
know
our
sins.

Individual
or
collective
we
stand
or
fall.

S
t
r
i
p
p
e
d

to
the
soul,
i
bare
it
all.

Closest
to me,
are
the
ones
that

I

have
hurt
the most.

A
burden
I
carry,
forever
to
hold,
for
failing
to
be
the
friend
that

I….

should

have

been;

to

you.

For Lisa

When Love and Justice meet

image

PART ONE

The

killing thing America

is that it happens everyday,

this meet and greet

promoting self

and

hate.
You with your maniacal
and twisted dream
Deny,
deny,
denied,
has long been your battle cry

Like

a

closed society

where

cash is king

and

lying

a repetitive act of normalcy

But I digress

Breaking news, this just in….

CNN is ablaze

and Don Lemon

we are amazed,
that you do what you got to do,
albeit a tan in a can
to quench a nation
long transfixed
by color
and race.

Speaking of Talib Kweli,

Oh Don please,

its best you let the brother be

else he might take pen to pad

if you make him mad

and he gonna have to e, e, ether-ize you, up in this piece.

PART 2

The police got that

strong arm twist,

but that just got the people pissed

and they ain’t trying to hear that shit anymore.

There is no justice in America today, not now,

not tomorrow,

not yesterday.

With all this show of force

with weapons

and

scopes

What did you prove?

What did it show?

You told on yourselves and now people see,

you ain’t right,

and

never
will

be.

PART 3

True justice,

she neither

be

burdened

nor blind

but it appears

some you white folk
may
have
gouged
out
her eyes

And even though

you

be

you,

and

I be me,
and
then,
we,

being us,

being she,
being he,

we being

all cast

from that

all mortals tree;

then why is it we refuse

to embrace

the reciprocal nature

that love,

in common with justice would bring?

If only we. . . .
Despite your introspective sighs
the people continue to cry / sing.

What justice?
What peace?

This will never be.
Not as long as the powers that be, continue

to dominate

his brother to his injury.

So then
why then is it so hard
for people
to conceptualize
to recognize
the real issue at hand;
and the
universal ramifications
for us not
respecting
history
nor accurately
discerning
where we are
in
the
stream
of
time?
End.