PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Verse,

I pen down daily,

On the topics,

Uniquely,

Diverse!

I feel something new up in my bones,

Some new heat between my toes,

My pubic hair has grown in,

My baby hair has grown thin,

My Steven Tyler chick says she don’t love me,

Say my balls don’t swing past her knees,

She say my hands hold too much heat,

And my locs have too much soul in between,

My, my, my, ego be, patron(-n)izing,

Gangstaraptalk gives me the freedom that I need,

When she grab herself, look me in the eyes and say she not horny for me,

Im stuck in a rut,

My wool feels like satin when she lay with me,

He lays his head on my soul while he bathes in heat,

My hands cover their bodies, give them instant ecstasy,

Giving them vibes they never felt before,

While my energy is getting drained,

People emptying their souls to me,

I wonder if they do it knowingly,

Do they feel me grounding their energy under their feet,

Do they feel a sense of healing after talking to me,

I am creating new bible verses,

Telling everyone the truth is in their veins,

Creating super-duper villians,

Now I can go insane,

I miss my daughter,

Now I can go insane,

I see her face when I close my eyes,

Now I can go insane,

When I was lost in the desert,

I saw a knife in my back,

Now im having flashbacks,

And now I don’t recognize myself,

Who is this person crying out for help,

Im on my knees now,

God please don’t turn me to salt for looking back,

''Wats wrong, wats wrong'',

When I sit and think, 

I cant feel my feet,

Im floating on a nimbus,

And wishing you were me,

And that I was you,

Wat is wrong? Wat is wrong?

I know the truth.

do androids dream of electric sheep the book i did read.. short story compared to the story of life.. i read the book of you and flip its pages quickly quickly my friend.. lover unknown person known.. lover known person unknown..

i read that book and as i do soft fingers trail across text.. the book of you has pages stiff and soft.. rough and smooth and at times i read it slowly too.. every puntuating mark a shock to my brain every train of thought rushes to my heart..

and i follow it chapter and verse to get to the heart of its creator.. i read the book of you and hope that it is not word for word as society has written..

but sometimes it is.. your passion plain to see becase you are used to being read by the average reader instead of hunger of imhotep.. child locked in a room trying to find the cure for a dying mothers cancer i sift through the words.. one on by one not missing a single stroke of the pen or drop of the ink pressed to print..

pages flip so fast they catch afire upon my fingertips..their heat fans out as i read on.. every day a few more pages but i know ill never be done because you are constantly changing the story.. new passions and mysteries write themselves in the book of your life.. new moments spill upon its pages..

im a book reader but let my fingers do the walking..

What's this?
I found something amiss.
There's a pencil there,
Just lying on the stair.
Picked it up and what did I find?
A pencil of the same kind
That was a month ago I lost,
And a heartache it did cost.
But here it is, good as new.
Pencil, I'm glad I found you.
If you're the same one,
Guess what! You're home!

I lost my pencil today

It slipped off the desk

As I walked away.

I went back to look

But my poor pencil

It seems someone took.

It was dear to my heart

Now it's gone for good

Forever we must part.

Goodbye, good pencil.

Be well.