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Comment by Kairoe Memphiss on August 27, 2010 at 1:46am

1st chapter in the works.
Or a short story. Too big to post.
Approx 10 pages.
Please enjoy.
http://onomatopoenise.blogspot.com/2010/08/living-poetry.html

Comment by Oba Richards on August 11, 2010 at 7:45pm

Splack Pac in da back of the jam
A sista, motha, baby daughter
My love allowed many
For their satisfaction
Slappin ass
How many dicks in Earths
Mouth will she swallow
“Let’s not do this”
Do not be a punk Ass bitch
She anit nothing but a trick
She will do the whole click for a hot sausage
Queen bitch explains how she fucks
With tom, Richards, bob some cat in a fresh Truck
“Yo that’s my sister” some one will fuck her
“yo that’s my mother” selling pussy to feed others
“yo that my baby daughter” crack motivates her
I’m just da pimp; find’em lost
At what cost of the soul to help pay my toll
Gator suede, tailor made.
“I’ll fuck you to pay me”

Comment by Drew on August 11, 2010 at 6:56pm

but i'll be damned if the edges at their withered wit's end weren't saved from being diluted. transmuted into a makeshift carbon copy of its once cordial shelf. a worn out matching effigy for the epitaph to mark the walking grave decorum complete. if over coffee i ever described the sights beheld with these two eyes, you'd either flee, mouth ajar with gibbering lunacy at what occupies the night in Lovecraftian fashion, or guffaw with the belief all that falls from my mouth are simple campfire lies.

ever watch a skeleton frolic in the wake of a ticker tape parade? you ever catch a laughing man throw himself neck first into the razor's edge of spinning fan blades? have you ever seen a man dim out mid stride, like a toy whos batteries have just ran themselves dry? if not count your stars and take comfort that its only i spectating the particulars of the horrors as the dread intake and spectator type spy, and my nightly bout with pillows would cuddle easier if i could strike all sights off as a simple campfire lie.

all the flemsy etchings and promise of bile no longer spit from the spire. all the fancy cursive talk of how hand in hand we'll traverse this trip wire. of every sunken ghost ship that carried songs of a softer tomorrow, i'm left to walk this disquieting coast with not a quid in my collection, nor a copper coin for one to borrow.

i'm that last lymric blotted out on the upper end of the page. i'm that next caste of calamity that has yet to be all the rage. i'm that ghost at every funeral whom of the crowd not a single soul can recall a name. the only good fortune found on the worn edges of this yarn, is that its not my tale to claim...

Comment by Drew on August 11, 2010 at 6:56pm

dope stuff Oba.

Comment by Oba Richards on August 11, 2010 at 4:52pm

bright Idea - snapped fingers

Comment by Oba Richards on July 28, 2010 at 5:48pm

Baby, you want a bottle or the tender nipples.



“It’s not me, I’m not like them. I dwell in a world fiction.
My favorite Author’s main character receives my highest aspirations.
My most vicious vicarious far-fetched wishes are their worships. You spit.
The roses thrown at my feet, I bask in the cheers and wails of the speckles of the arena.”
Hollow out this shell, with each line railed of amphetamines mixed with splenda.
Hallucinogens frequent EMOtional
When your inner goals that no one know dress you up like an anime freak show
Who would know this is how your soul glows
On this populated sphere with entities other than humans
You still feel so alone. No gait to your stroll
A shriveled up weed, blown to the dust
Nasal compressed, headaches fuss “you suppress us”
Withdraw from life that just begun
Avatars of life separate from these trifle lights, to find ones self is social suicide.
When in the publics’ eye, bend over and spread your cheeks for the cool
From the back, they always fuck you
Who would know? Only those who cast a shadow
Step to my side, your attention paid for the ride. Death ends “real” life
Next chapter starts with two words “Past Deeds”
Never remembering, no relations to kin in skin
Wave your wands, push your pawns, walk your strip
Where blood dried and the tide hides bundles of opium.
Trek your woods and hope your modus operandi did not get you high
As you ate the flesh from under the cheeks of the mid west
You despise tech 9 nine year olds for hoping for the best
See, mommy and daddy were not so perky, to treat braced teeth to Mickey D’s
The projects be called the “pork and beans”, she had you in her teens, and you only saw him in your dreams.
Some grew to volunteer, to force themselves to clear “this” scene
Your hard knock life gave you a sex change as you feel in love with homo fiction
All those years just to hate your occupation; Suicide is not so selfish these days…..


Oba Richards
2010
hahaha

Comment by Oba Richards on July 27, 2010 at 6:29pm

to the new and the old dont let that pen fold

Comment by Oba Richards on July 15, 2010 at 1:58am

Claude McKay
Countée Cullen
poets from back in the day check'em out

Comment by BLACKBOARD 25 on July 14, 2010 at 6:09pm

A BLACK WOMAN SEARCH

I took a glance at him
From the East
And there he stood
Tall, proud and black

I rush to the North
To catch him off-guard
And there he stood
Tall, proud and black

I know how to get him
To lower his pride
Quickly, quickly
Bring me a white businessman
Send him to the West
He took one look at him
Looked straight in the eyes
And there he stood
Tall, proud and black

I went to the South
Brought with me
All races
All nationalities
All religions
screaming racial remarks
You nigger, they scream out
You nobody
But yet he stood
Tall, proud and black

I walk up to him
Why are you proud
With tears rolling down
My eyes
Then I knew
In the middle of
East, North, West and South
There we stood
Tall, proud and black

by Sheassly Michel
Wrote this poem base on a guy I saw on the train he had such confident I was amazed and he was not arrogant. enjoy
Book: I am Africa- Barnes and Nobles, Amazon and more.

Comment by Bijay Acharya on July 11, 2010 at 5:36am

If you cannot come first, '
Try not to be counted as last. .
If nobody is with you,
Try not to be hated by all. .
If you cannot rise up
Try not to fall down. .
If you are not the best,
Try not to be worst.
by BIJAY ACHARYA.

http://ayogorkhali.blogspot.com/

http://shenanigans-nepal.blogspot.com/

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