I Don’t Write For You

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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

Mandela: Words and Concord

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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

Measured Lines _ _

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Style is measured
in
increments
of
time
Some
people
write
some
people
rhyme
When we’ve gone
our
words
will
remain
celebrated
or not

A
writer

a
storyteller

a
wordsmith who 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

Biggie knew

Tupac too

So yes my friends write, 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
anymore

The Billion Dollar Question

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Why is it that you cling to painful and hurtful things; these relics of your not so distant past?

These caricatures are destructive distortions; a mockery that lives in your mind, hand crafted lies, handed down through the annuals of time.
It is intellectually antiquated, and out of step they say; but those are the hate filled lies that many continue to embrace. But now is the opportunity to look inside yourselves and see;
all the ugly things you continue to portray native people to be.

Sweet land of liberty.

The indigenous peoples of this land
are not your mascots,
for you to dress up and play; nor are they here for you to mock their culture in any other way.
So keep your honor, for your honor does not ring true; it is hollow and disingenuous coming from men like you. So either lead, follow, or get out of the way; for the time of the Mascot has had it’s day.

#blackeagledream 

Posted from WordPress for Android fasho.

I Don’t But I Do

What is it about words that grip our
souls in a
keenness of obsession?

How did we know,
when did we
first see?
It is
here,
and
or
there,
that
we
both feed.
Our
obsession.
Our
need.
Words indeed,
more a
collective desire
than of
greed.
We have been
consumed.
A force from within, not our
only sin;
for words we often endure,
and hold back in.
Words taste,
and
are like
the sound you make;
when that first bite
of well done
explodes in your face.
I too have this need;
to write,
and to feed,
all the
hunger
inside
of
me.
I don’t,
but
I do;
really
need you.

#blackeagledream 


Posted from WordPressndroid

In The Cut

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Traveling through this space of mind I often like to sit and rhyme as I contemplate my idiosyncratic qualifications.

Seems life has been more down than up, as I struggle to not give a fuck; and remain relevant with respects my dreams.

Along the way, friends have proved to be far and few in between; yeah you know what I mean.

But my girl she’s been there when no one else was. She’s my hero, she’s my buff, always there; laying in the cut, keeping me warm and well fed.

#blackeagledream