“The beauty my pen would write if you were my muse...” Crow

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Poetry Publications

WHERE THE ONLYTHING THATMATTERSIS YOUR PEN ANDYOUR INK!!!

TheAmazing KillBill Chef

I AM TRUTH WRITTEN

AWAKENEDAM I~ANOTHER DAYTO SMILE ~~AND YES BE THANKFUL~~I AM NO POET~~WHAT I AM IS TRUTH WRITTEN INWORDS~~POETRY FORM~~ATELLER OF HER STORY~~MYTEARS~~MYANGER,~MY JOYS,~MY LOVE,~MY STRENGTH,~MYHONOR,~MY COURAGE ~~EVEN IN THE MIDST~I AM TRUTH~~UNAFRAID~~I DON'T MAKE NOAPOLOGIES FORWHO IAM ~~NOR DO I LOOK FOR ACCEPTANCE~~ALLIES WE CAN BE~~SIFTING THROUGH HUNDREDS OFFRIENDSAND FINDING ONLYA FEWTRUE ONES~~SEEING THROUGH THE FAKE LOVES~~~STILL NO REAL LOVE HASSURFACED~~FACES~~

HELPING THE HEARTS FILLED WITHPAIN ~~PUTTINGA SMILE ON UNHAPPY FACES~~I AM NOT POETRY~~~WHAT I AM IS WORDS OF TRUTH INPOETRY FORM~~FIGHTINGA LIFETIME OF WAR~~NO GUNS OR KNIVES~~~NO MORE~~~I KILL THEMALL OFF WITH MY PEN~~MYTRUE FRIEND~~MY LOVER~~~AND YES SOMETIMES MYMOTHER~~RUNNING THROUGH JUNGLES~~I COMEACROSS MANYANIMALS~~~UNAFRAID I REMAIN BUT YET IN MYCAUTIOUS STATES~~MY EYESARE WIDE OPEN ~~EARS LISTENING~~NOTA SOUND WILL I MAKE ~~BUT NEVER LET ~~THE DEADLY SILENCE FOOLYOU~~MY FRIENDS~~I ANSWER TOAHIGHER POWER OTHERTHAN MAN~~~I AM TRUTH IN POETRY FORM~~LED BY GOD'S LOVE IN MYHEART ~~COURAGE OFAWARRIOR SOLDIER~~LOYAL LIKE ALION IS TO HIS PRIDE~~HONOR IN ME LIKE A SAMURAI~~I AM HERE TO SEND MESSAGES~~I AM WAITING FOR THE SOUNDS OF THEHORNS~~I AM HERE FORAREASON~~I HAVE PURPOSE IN THIS LIFE~~LIKE ALLMY PAST LIVES~~BORN I HAVE BEEN MANY TIMESBEFORE~~~I AM NOT POETRY~~NORA POEM~~I AM TRUTH~~HIEROGLYPHICS~~WRITTEN IN STONE~~~I AM TRUTH WRITTEN~~"GMG"

I LIVE TO SEEK

AHHHHHH~~~~INTERESTED IN MYMINDAND WHAT IT HAS TOSAY~~~~BEWARE OF THE QUESTIONS YOUASK OF ME~~~~LIFE IS ALL DIFFERENT FOR EVERYONE~~~YOU SEE~~~SOARE THE WANTS~~THE NEEDS~~~ALL THE MEMORIES~~~THE PEN I EMBRACE HELPS EASE ALL THE PAIN~~THE CHOSEN WORDS EXPLAINSALLMYRAGE!~~~ADARK MINDAND LIGHT FILLED HEART~~~THE MAKINGS OFAMAD MAN IN THIS WOMANSSOUL~~AWAR I DO FIGHT EVERYDAY!!~~TRYING TO FINDATRUCE IN MY INSANE BRAIN!!~~THE SCREAMS I HEAR INSIDE MYHEAD~~~THE LITTLE GIRLWHO TOOK INALLMY PAIN~~~THEREARE THINGS THATARE MEANT NOT TO BEFORGOTTEN!!~~I LEARNED THIS BEFORE I ALMOST TOOKALIFE OFAENEMYMADE MINES~~~~THERE WAS NO FORGIVING DURING THAT TIME!!~~~GLAD I CEASED FOR THERE IS NO REDEMPTION~~NO TAKING DEATH BACK!!~~~NO FORGIVENESS~~~~BUTABROKEN WILL~~~~I SEARCH LIFE LIKE ANOMAD WITH NO PLACE TOCALL HOME~~~I SEEK WISDOM LIKEANANCIENT MONK WHO SITS ONAMOUNTAIN ON HIS THRONE!!~~~MY SOULA SURVIVOR OFALLWARSAND WILL DEFEATWARS TO COME!~~~A SOLDIERAM I~~~A LONELYHEARTWHO WAITS TO DIE!!~~ONLYTO REALIZE THAT I HAVE BEEN BORNBEFORE!!~~I HAVE LIVED MANY LIFE TIMES~~~AND I REMEMBER THEMALL!!~~~"GMG

Welcome LaDonna Marie

YourWords

You know who you areStanding present in your existence in this momentWaiting to receive your words

Opening your mouth and words began to flow

You use to get me entangle in your web with your wordsThat slips from your tongueYou play mind games with your psycho babbleYou put me down with your demeaning words

Standing here awaiting these words that come out of your mouthThey flow over me, spinning all around me, some cut right threw me

Reflecting over the power of your wordsPlaced out into the atmosphereDeep intrepid words spewed out that cause wounds to our soulsOnly because of the unconscious belief of these hurtful words

There are times when words are designed to put you down, drag youthroughToday still, words are used for that exact reasonI am standing here looking back to in the distance andRemembering the words that expressed hateThose words that were used to embed fearThey were wicked, cold and meant to extract pain

Yet these words, the one that come out your mouthNow they flow from your mind, most time you speak before youthinkBut if you took time to think before you speak,Then you would know the power of your wordsBut as I think start to thinkDon’t really think that would matterThese words that you give out and can’t take backYou have the audacity stand in my face and point your finger justlike that

And then later you want me to respect you for these words you spitoutBut you can’t take backBut you don’t respect me when you give your wordsYour demeaning wordsThat hurt my feeling and where aimed to pull me downAnd make me feel less thanThat made me the spectacle,That breaks spirits and perishes souls

from shameAll because of your words

So I choose to use my words to empower andto upliftI want to bring upNot to put downI want to take you to a place where yourperceptionStart to gain wisdom and truly manifest peacefrom withinTo the awareness of self worth, and whereself appreciation begins

Many leaders before lend their words toSpeak power to the nations and multitude

with their wordsThey gave and give us their words that standthe test of timeAnd leaves us with the History through thetheir wordsAnd to sum it all up their Words profound,articulate words have meaningTo hungry ears that stand before them andlisten as they offer wisdom in their words

Where I stand now, your words no longerbother meGet close to me, or anywhere around meYour words, had sparked enlighten andgrowthYour words are no longer exist in my realityFor I control the key to lock you out of mymental stability

I seek liberty, happiness and peaceRemedyBy blocking out your Words

AnswersWith my pen I write strictly to

Pour out the anguish in my mindOf the things I see with my eyesThe pain that I feel in my heart

Igniting my compassion that soarsReleasing positive deposits in the air

Into our different realitiesThrough many doors and pathways

And as far my fingertips can touch physicallyAnd as loud as my voice can be reached vocally

I’ve learned that this hurt is universalI write to the tell the struggle

See I’m expressing the agonized, mindThe ones that comfort, most time need comforting

So feeling subsides in my poetrySharing the meaning, and patterns of humanityAs we deal with countless lives out of control

See there are silent cries for helpThey constantly scream internally

So poetically I lyrically visualize each of our life linesGiving life to essence of how we engage with one another

Realizing this is how we expose our personal worthBy what confounds and truly exists

I write always seeking to raise the barRather then the American Way

Of how people think we should be livingFeeling defeated and in constant turmoil

With their analysis which steadily causes confusionsThat sublimely gives room for havoc to reek

As we give into divide and concurFrom the misunderstanding of our different paths

That is strategically divinely set to be uniqueSo I ask the question, how much hate we will need to seeBefore we infuse an overflow of love into our community

So I’m at this window with a questionIn my mentally ability, As I write

Which always leaves a vivid pictureLooking at the world in front of me

Where’s the UnityWho has the answers?

Anthony Arnold

Daryl Ross Halencak

GHAZAL:Wasteland of Greed

And the huddled masses raise their fistsin prayer.

And the huddled masses raise their fistsin prayer.

Hungry stomachs cry out peasants’alarm.

And the huddled masses raise their fistsin prayer.

Capitalist greed robs the bread frommothers’ arms.

And the huddled masses raise their fistsin prayer.

Carpet-baggers spread wide their charm.

And the huddled masses raise their fistsin prayer.

Migrant workers pick cotton on whiteman’s farm.

And the huddled masses raise their fistsin prayer.

The Margaret Methodist Church

Souls made professions of faith

Dripping waters ran down the faces

As Sins were washed away in the font.

Babies christened

Young girls married young men

Old men were blessed before the trip at the GreatBeyond

Social Holiness marched out of the building into thehurting

hearts and hungry bellies.

DISTANT MOUNDS

In the distance, one can see the Medicine Mounds;

can hear the silent cries of suffering women and children

murdered at the hands of marauding troops

assembled to capture the Chief.

He is nowhere to be found.

He has traveled far from the Pease River in search of bison.

Nomads gathering wild plums and edible plants to sustainhungry bellies

are easy targets for rifles.

Thundering horses attack.

The stench of death is the dark pall under the West Texas sky.

The taste of fear clouds the sandy banks of the river bed.

Swords of genocide have ended the cleansing

of the small band of women and children huddled at the edge ofthe flowing, red Pease.

ALOVE LETTER FROMA FAILED GENERATOR

I.

Inside a meltdownof aggrieved metaphorswe met and made the bestof icy memories

You were the apexof a sullen candle wick'sheated umbrellapassing for protectionfrom the typhoonof toxicity corrodingthe artificial lightsI resorted to in searchof happiness

II.

Sickened by the cynicismI could never conquerwithout aidthe shrill wheezein my lungs stabbedthe air of my resignedignition like an acidrain-rusted fork

Prongs of erosionincinerated the dimensionsof my Great Pretender mask

I was open to the prospectof a meltdown

Steven Fortune

III.

A power outage smirkedon the verge of threateningmy need for Winter whiteto blind the pile-up of humidmonths eroding my incentivefor an age's elevation

Then you camepuncturing the black auraI was all too ready to adopt

I am already obligated tothe Grey thresholdit would appearyet the parasol of yourembrace stifled mycorrosion of closure likethe blinders of a race horse

Simply through your placein my obstructed vision's showyou have won meuntil I realize I'm out of candlesand the metaphors incline meto reach around until I clutchyour heated cage ofnight vision

Daryl Ross Halencak

MYPEASE RIVER FRIEND, WILBER

His name was Wilber

but everyone called him Drunk

or White Trash

or just “Hey, you.”

Wilber drew his last breath inside a rat infesteddwelling.

Alcohol fulfilled God’s will.

The bootlegger was found curled

on his cot, lying in his excrement.

He had been slaking his drink of cheap elixir.

He died alone with only his addiction to comfort him.

On the cot was a half-spent pint of rotgut

clutched like a child’s teddy bear.

He once owned a teddy bear-in his childhood dreams.

WILD IVY GROWS

The ivy twines up the prison wall

speaking to this political prisoner chainedwithin cloistered walls.

The green growth makes the activist smile as

he anticipates his firing squad.

The vivid color of the wild ivy

infuses his dreams,

giving him the symbol of the living,

though he will not be alive for long.

So, he sends out prayers from his torturedheart to believers of The Faith-encouraging

the small throng who send up support likechildren’s balloons twirling toward theheavens.

This Comrade will soon be united with theBride of his passions.

In the meantime, he dreams of Utopian life,as he admires the ivy growing up the wall.

Inspired

Motivational, generational,Inspirational,

Beyond that which is normalAnd everyday...beyond ordinary,Original and unique...creative,Productive, innovative, with the

ability to inspire.

Concentrate, meditate, penetrateThe mind and soul with words boldThat unfold...a new story told as youagitate and aggravate the brain cells

Leaving ink blood trails through pagesIn lyrical stages...a legacy for futureMages...he, she engages in this poeticGame but your pen untamed with noDesire for fortune or fame...puttingOthers to shame without adding yourName to the mix and bag of trix andTreats...they should bow at your feet

with your power to inspire.

Upward, downward, forward, backwardIn a directional, purposeful stride...you glidePen across paper and lay hidden meaningsbehind words hide and slide thru nouns andVerbs, twisting curbs of words as you swerveand spin magic with your pen blush and crushThe so called Mic giants who to you are mere

Ants on a hill...spitting for a thrill while you killThem off and give me a chill...you desire to

Remain behind the scene like a disguised KingSpying on his Queen...making sure she meansWhat she said and deserves the crown placed

On her head...keeping to the shadows, shunningthe curtain calls until darkness falls to reveal yourPower...this is your Hour...your time to shine and

Mine that gold...to inspire.

Your Kingdom awaits...fate dictatesIt is time for your rhyme to elevate and go higher...To fill your cup of desire to the brim...the fire needs

More space so now you must embrace the newChance to dance with gods...to drink the sweet nectarfrom the fruit...to settle the dispute that rages withinYour heart...to be set apart with your ink and pen andTo finally accept the accolades of those Creations youhave made before your pen is retired...For you are he

That will always Inspire to be Inspired.Ms.Wordetry

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