Poets

Black Plague Black Plague, where are you?

They call me Blatant Misses but I am a black plague too;

Oh yes, let’s get that out the way, I’m Black… please don’t’ shoot

Let me spit thoughts to these ignorant minds like sperm when ejaculated at an orgasmic peak,

Using the truth as my shield, my beliefs as my stance and my mouth as my firearms

I spit realness where sometimes real has to ask, “Yo, where did that shit come from “

Cause understand, I’m a poet first, a lady second… that’s probably why they call me Blatant Misses

Obama, Obama, where art thou?

I am the future so I guess I’m Obama too

He’s black, please don’t shoot

Please don’t mistake or mis- take him as a hoodlum because they come in all colors, Bush is more reckless than ever, invading a country with no reasonable cause

And just cause I bump fists when I’m feeling something that’s hot Don’t think I don’t know a lot

That I’m a miseducated misfit destined to fit your constricted identity and you want me to identify with this, but I only am what I answer to

So call me a Nigga, call me a Terrorist

Knowing that Republicans are the real terrorists, having terrorized international countries about so called Weapons of Mass Destruction, oil, yea, yea, whatever

cause the same mutherfuckers who blew up the Towers has 7% of American business power

And Bush, Mc Cain, and Palin, 3 assholes in a pod,

EMPLOYMENT, EDUCATION AND ECONOMY ARE DOWN!!!

The only things up are jail rates, police brutality, gas prices, and, of course, McCain’s age

And when that nigga die, we’ll be stuck with the bitch with the winking problem like she’s in her teen age phase

And just cause you hear the Caribbean accent, don’t assume I’m not a resident

Cause I am Obama, I’m fucking good enough to be President!

And who’s better than to turn this economy around. but a Black man, who can always turn nothing into something flip, stack and get around this bitch

And black people, even though it’s against our beliefs, it’s about time we snitch!

Not from the NYPD institution, but constitutionally,

Why is there a question mark after this, Mr. Officer?

I’m’ Black, please don’t shoot ...Question Mark?

What, stop think about it?

We need Obama in office, I’m sick of the Bullshit

And they gonna keep hearing my mouth unless they kill me

Cause we are black plagues, he is the Black Plague, I am Blatant Misses

We do this for the love of truth, the love of freedom

We are For the Love of Poetry

Another day, Another tie, Another shirt,
flirtin wit this 9 to 5 that won't pay me what I'm worth.
half my mind is perturbed enthusiasm's a blur
and I can't make sense of what came first was it the liquor or the curb.
So like liquor distilled in a rocks glass I'm like a nigga standing still watching his life pass
watching me.
A cup ah clear makes it hards to see so I'm probably pondering my latest quandry
why lack monoply? Would I be sloppily squandering aristocracy gathering fast cash
commitin a highway robbery.
I'm a gentleman not much of a hard-rock life ain't even that much of a hard-knock but I'm sick.
In my M.J. dayz but should be benched for throwing bricks the prime-time of my age wishing I could freeze my wrist.
Picture that or Rather this
To co-exist; donating my bottom dollar to a moment in time bliss.
I think timeless, 10 years from now pissin out the same fix it be the story of a future King who got his name frisked.
Oh the irony!!!
Kings with bum mentalities are paupers who think they've made it but it ain't where you from its where your aiming; I've been around long enough to see where lack of hustle takes men
the slaughterhouse of failure where it slays them;
No name a damn shame is how it paints them, defeat is not my destiny but I feel my faith wavering.
At a days end I sit with a drink and think I should be higher; In fact I should be so high out of sight out of spite the atmosphere would cut my air supply Why?
Cuz I'm simply so dope I should be dead, but I've been dupped by monotiny to becoming synthetic instead.
But my head is indecent exposure; scrutinizing smut, drinking booz, and wheezing blacks if I don't try something to fill theses gaps I'm reminded of my setbacks.
Turned off by living below the average line so I did the impossible and converted a nickel trick into a dime.
As I wiped the mud off her cheek with the sweat of my brow she beamed at me, Immediately I got an erection, noticed a slight change in her facial expression that reflected mine, quietly she thought to herself its about time, I told you things would change if you treated me better instead you thought I was out to get yah.
At that moment I pulled her close and carressed her; As a sign of endearment, gently I bit her lower lip sweet, supple, and thick like apple pie on a cumulus cloud.
Thanking GOD I kissed the sky.
Felt a breeze in her
smile like a ray of sunshine seen on the slit of her lips, full tits like pomegranites I've been longing to kiss; bottom shaped like an apple plucked from the tree of life.
To sum into one word shorty was effortless.
And as if reading my mind she whispered touch me, desirefull I approached
to grant her request, unabashed I unbridled my tongue to massage the fruits of her chest.
Till the the words "live forever" permanently stained my breathe.
We menaged wit the real,
stress,
and consistency
I told her she wasn't a regular chick to me she was a kin to me
She said no I'm the love you put into me
Now day in and day out I give her the stroke off my back
this dime I'm talking bout is life and everyday we climax.

Definition

Whispers of a Lonely Soul

My mother birthed an experiment that went wrong
like a stillbirth breeching through the tunnels of love
suddenly gasping for breath from the heavens
filtering through the body beating the brain and allowing the heart to think
This writer toils harder than construction workers
laboring triple overtime for life sentences en Saharan heat
I told the heroin addicts to place my blood en their spoons
and all the crack-heads and ecstasy-paradise travelers became jealous
as the smack-fiends overdosed, since all the others wanted
to go to a place where they could actually bring peace en their rest
and visit the heaven they have been promised
even if it was for only as long as their first high

But I’m addicted to black love and the beauty of our sistas
Not smelling their smiles or tasting their laughter
my mind and life go through withdrawal trying to
save the instances downed en their fermentation of joy
while others darken their spirits allowing their souls drenched en light liquors
raining en their cups from too much humidity
I reminisce on how I’m so skinny that when my back is pressed against walls
and my heart whispers to my body, my Lockes dance en response
Growing up, people always lipped I had a fresh mouth
yet I never replied they had brains thinking on crutches
or, “Doesn’t it wonderfully complement the engines en my mind
where neurons moved faster than V12 glitches on meth?”
Dreaming so hard, my pillows soaked my thoughts
softening with every scene helping me monitor nocturnal music
as the stars came out trying to thief my ideas, building solar systems away
making me feel so good, it is hard to discontinue
my subconscious prayers, trying to interpret Holy visions

Destroy the negative and leave not an empty lot
but create happiness from it that others can peel off
and boil en their pots and pans of love and happiness
feeding the hunger beating against their friends’ hearts
Still, make sure that what you designed reflect starfish
after entire neighborhoods came receiving precious alms
that their shadows’ dances mimic the motions of tide-waves set off
by the moonlight, making love to the air, you feel as tender breezes
through your bedroom window, dreaming of the magnificence you developed
listening to God’s voice, coming en the form of little black girls
resembling the last branch of Solomon’s family-tree
I took a leaf making light strokes with a number-two pencil and scrap paper over it
So my picture could tell you, keep your eyes open
because the greatest sounds you will ever hear flash en the lobes of your heart
My dreams are invisible, yet as I tell them
I add color to my tongue, painting the memories left breathless on your eardrums
My thoughts are the smallest things changing the ways of their injured world
helping it balance on one leg supporting the altering axes
of seasons growing into others, hoping I place this universe’s behaviors
on the sofa, as I scribble remedies en my poetry books
until defining beautiful and gorgeous epidemics
plaguing aliens on planet organizations
I could never exercise my thoughts’ muscles
within the gymnasiums en the spirit of my humble mind
I urinate my ideas like a lyrically alcoholic diabetic
onto classical statutes just to make them modern art
while the wetness snowboards from your eyes recognizing their beauty
settling into the cracks of your mouths, cuddling on your taste-buds
just so they could feel good, having a place they could call home


				*Poets*



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		The Black Plague 444 Tears of Joy (Just words to remember) As these tears of joy fall and find no one to wipe them, I realize that they don’t need anyone to do so. As I listen passionately to every word said by this young black uniter who stands before me like a young prince in the midst of many false kings, I see a more prosperous America and a new chapter in the life of an inspiring young artist like myself. I now have more hope than I’ve ever had. Twiddling my thoughts out of this knot made of joy, I conceded that America’s heart has finally shined as bright as when it first declared its independence in 1776. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined a scenario where a black man would be my country’s president, and my inspiration to do all of the things that I have dreamed of doing. Never forgetful of the strenuous journey that peaked before me in these times full of government lies and conspiracies, I look upon a new age incumbent of a president with a chocolate face, and a candy heart. I praise his work for he united black and white in this victory and he defeated the mighty Clintons who were the heir apparent of the democratic throne, while revealing the chinks in their armor which we never thought to see flawed with such elegant mannerisms of a “cool hand Luke” president that we seem to need in office. Ever so gracefully our voices were finally heard. From old to young, people who believed they could make a change came forth and manifested the power of our numbers when united. Let this day serve as a stepping stone for all that doubt what hard work can do. I don’t want to hear that the man is holding you back anymore after we paint the white house black. Just remember one thing, if change is to come, it won’t be from the president. He has already given us the hope that we need to move forward. Change has to start in our homes and in our everyday lives in how we carry ourselves from here on out, and what we do with this new found treasure given to us by the grace of God. I repeat the words of John Fitzgerald Kennedy…… “Ask not what my country can do for me, but what can I do for my country” Ask what I can do for my family, for my brother, for my people’s future. The seal of excuses has been broken, and it is now time to not fear our own brilliance and our own possibility, but to embrace it in the midst of this great and troubled era. Let us bring forth the possibility of our triumph as a nation through our conviction and our tenor, with our wits and our endurance, with our hope for mental, physical, and religious freedoms. Let our voices continue to be heard with the actions they produce, and most importantly….when we put our children to bed tonight, make sure you reassure them that they could be anything they want to be…..even the president of the united states of America!!! “I need scarcely observe that a poem deserves its title only inasmuch as it excites by elevating the soul”-The Poetic principle-Edgar Allen Poe…



		Blatant Misses Black Plague Black Plague, where are you? They call me Blatant Misses but I am a black plague too; Oh yes, let’s get that out the way, I’m Black… please don’t’ shoot Let me spit thoughts to these ignorant minds like sperm when ejaculated at an orgasmic peak, Using the truth as my shield, my beliefs as my stance and my mouth as my firearms I spit realness where sometimes real has to ask, “Yo, where did that shit come from “ Cause understand, I’m a poet first, a lady second… that’s probably why they call me Blatant Misses Obama, Obama, where art thou? I am the future so I guess I’m Obama too He’s black, please don’t shoot Please don’t mistake or mis- take him as a hoodlum because they come in all colors, Bush is more reckless than ever, invading a country with no reasonable cause And just cause I bump fists when I’m feeling something that’s hot Don’t think I don’t know a lot That I’m a miseducated misfit destined to fit your constricted identity and you want me to identify with this, but I only am what I answer to So call me a Nigga, call me a Terrorist Knowing that Republicans are the real terrorists, having terrorized international countries about so called Weapons of Mass Destruction, oil, yea, yea, whatever cause the same mutherfuckers who blew up the Towers has 7% of American business power And Bush, Mc Cain, and Palin, 3 assholes in a pod, EMPLOYMENT, EDUCATION AND ECONOMY ARE DOWN!!! The only things up are jail rates, police brutality, gas prices, and, of course, McCain’s age And when that nigga die, we’ll be stuck with the bitch with the winking problem like she’s in her teen age phase And just cause you hear the Caribbean accent, don’t assume I’m not a resident Cause I am Obama, I’m fucking good enough to be President! And who’s better than to turn this economy around. but a Black man, who can always turn nothing into something flip, stack and get around this bitch And black people, even though it’s against our beliefs, it’s about time we snitch! Not from the NYPD institution, but constitutionally, Why is there a question mark after this, Mr. Officer? I’m’ Black, please don’t shoot ...Question Mark? What, stop think about it? We need Obama in office, I’m sick of the Bullshit And they gonna keep hearing my mouth unless they kill me Cause we are black plagues, he is the Black Plague, I am Blatant Misses We do this for the love of truth, the love of freedom We are For the Love of Poetry Jerry Laroque Another day, Another tie, Another shirt, flirtin wit this 9 to 5 that won't pay me what I'm worth. half my mind is perturbed enthusiasm's a blur and I can't make sense of what came first was it the liquor or the curb. So like liquor distilled in a rocks glass I'm like a nigga standing still watching his life pass watching me. A cup ah clear makes it hards to see so I'm probably pondering my latest quandry why lack monoply? Would I be sloppily squandering aristocracy gathering fast cash commitin a highway robbery. I'm a gentleman not much of a hard-rock life ain't even that much of a hard-knock but I'm sick. In my M.J. dayz but should be benched for throwing bricks the prime-time of my age wishing I could freeze my wrist. Picture that or Rather this To co-exist; donating my bottom dollar to a moment in time bliss. I think timeless, 10 years from now pissin out the same fix it be the story of a future King who got his name frisked. Oh the irony!!! Kings with bum mentalities are paupers who think they've made it but it ain't where you from its where your aiming; I've been around long enough to see where lack of hustle takes men the slaughterhouse of failure where it slays them; No name a damn shame is how it paints them, defeat is not my destiny but I feel my faith wavering. At a days end I sit with a drink and think I should be higher; In fact I should be so high out of sight out of spite the atmosphere would cut my air supply Why? Cuz I'm simply so dope I should be dead, but I've been dupped by monotiny to becoming synthetic instead. But my head is indecent exposure; scrutinizing smut, drinking booz, and wheezing blacks if I don't try something to fill theses gaps I'm reminded of my setbacks. Turned off by living below the average line so I did the impossible and converted a nickel trick into a dime. As I wiped the mud off her cheek with the sweat of my brow she beamed at me, Immediately I got an erection, noticed a slight change in her facial expression that reflected mine, quietly she thought to herself its about time, I told you things would change if you treated me better instead you thought I was out to get yah. At that moment I pulled her close and carressed her; As a sign of endearment, gently I bit her lower lip sweet, supple, and thick like apple pie on a cumulus cloud. Thanking GOD I kissed the sky. Felt a breeze in her smile like a ray of sunshine seen on the slit of her lips, full tits like pomegranites I've been longing to kiss; bottom shaped like an apple plucked from the tree of life. To sum into one word shorty was effortless. And as if reading my mind she whispered touch me, desirefull I approached to grant her request, unabashed I unbridled my tongue to massage the fruits of her chest. Till the the words "live forever" permanently stained my breathe. We menaged wit the real, stress, and consistency I told her she wasn't a regular chick to me she was a kin to me She said no I'm the love you put into me Now day in and day out I give her the stroke off my back this dime I'm talking bout is life and everyday we climax. Definition Whispers of a Lonely Soul My mother birthed an experiment that went wrong like a stillbirth breeching through the tunnels of love suddenly gasping for breath from the heavens filtering through the body beating the brain and allowing the heart to think This writer toils harder than construction workers laboring triple overtime for life sentences en Saharan heat I told the heroin addicts to place my blood en their spoons and all the crack-heads and ecstasy-paradise travelers became jealous as the smack-fiends overdosed, since all the others wanted to go to a place where they could actually bring peace en their rest and visit the heaven they have been promised even if it was for only as long as their first high But I’m addicted to black love and the beauty of our sistas Not smelling their smiles or tasting their laughter my mind and life go through withdrawal trying to save the instances downed en their fermentation of joy while others darken their spirits allowing their souls drenched en light liquors raining en their cups from too much humidity I reminisce on how I’m so skinny that when my back is pressed against walls and my heart whispers to my body, my Lockes dance en response Growing up, people always lipped I had a fresh mouth yet I never replied they had brains thinking on crutches or, “Doesn’t it wonderfully complement the engines en my mind where neurons moved faster than V12 glitches on meth?” Dreaming so hard, my pillows soaked my thoughts softening with every scene helping me monitor nocturnal music as the stars came out trying to thief my ideas, building solar systems away making me feel so good, it is hard to discontinue my subconscious prayers, trying to interpret Holy visions Destroy the negative and leave not an empty lot but create happiness from it that others can peel off and boil en their pots and pans of love and happiness feeding the hunger beating against their friends’ hearts Still, make sure that what you designed reflect starfish after entire neighborhoods came receiving precious alms that their shadows’ dances mimic the motions of tide-waves set off by the moonlight, making love to the air, you feel as tender breezes through your bedroom window, dreaming of the magnificence you developed listening to God’s voice, coming en the form of little black girls resembling the last branch of Solomon’s family-tree I took a leaf making light strokes with a number-two pencil and scrap paper over it So my picture could tell you, keep your eyes open because the greatest sounds you will ever hear flash en the lobes of your heart My dreams are invisible, yet as I tell them I add color to my tongue, painting the memories left breathless on your eardrums My thoughts are the smallest things changing the ways of their injured world helping it balance on one leg supporting the altering axes of seasons growing into others, hoping I place this universe’s behaviors on the sofa, as I scribble remedies en my poetry books until defining beautiful and gorgeous epidemics plaguing aliens on planet organizations I could never exercise my thoughts’ muscles within the gymnasiums en the spirit of my humble mind I urinate my ideas like a lyrically alcoholic diabetic onto classical statutes just to make them modern art while the wetness snowboards from your eyes recognizing their beauty settling into the cracks of your mouths, cuddling on your taste-buds just so they could feel good, having a place they could call home



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