I Love You Like Hip Hop

The deep affection I have for  hip hop.
I will always love it until the beat of my heart stops,
Listening to it on the beat box.

I love listening to the beat.
Just the sound, I listen to right before I fall asleep.
I close my eyes
I feel so mesmerized.
Like brown sugar in oatmeal,
Hip Hop, you are so tasteful.
You are my  addiction.
In a good way, unlike a cocaine addiction.
You are healthy and lift up my spirits
As I hear you and I listen,
To your words.
You articulate your sentences, in a powerful way to be heard.
I love you like I love hip hop,
And I mean that from the bottom of my heart.
And I always will until the clock stops

Question To Think About

For now on, every Friday I will be posting a question regarding friendships, relationships, sex, family, marriage, children, anything life related.

Today’s Question!

What are the pro’s and con’s to technology and is technology the reason why the divorce rate is high compared to the 1960’s?

Ever Wonder Why Your Life IS Fucked UP?

Mind is static
Like a routers IP address.
A hole in my heart
like a hollow in your chest.
I begin to ponder death
Contemplate the scenery
of the after life
since I have gave up on life.
I tried reaching for the sky
but can’t reach for something
you can’t touch.
Life is double dutch
and the double ropes
is the demons and
I’m struggling to not
come in contact.
20/40 vision
and can’t afford contacts
So as I age
I became unsighted like bats
for putting true love over everything.
Poetry is my Vaseline
to help mitigate
Since the demons in my head
are a pain in the ass.
So used to being uncomfortable,
when the mood is peaceful
automatically assume I don’t deserve
it’s presence
like a naughty kid on Christmas.
Negative is a shark
that smells the blood of my
positive thoughts.
When it devours,
light is overshadowed by the dark.
I worry like a parent searching at the park
for their missing child
 after dark.
Over and over I overthink.
The thoughts deeper than
a stab wound from a shank.
Worry like I have bills and no
money in the bank.
Disappointed like a husband
for only shooting blanks.
I’m always been ashamed of my pace
in life.
Just imagine racing with a tank during a drag race.
Dependent like a house wife
and broke like Buzz Lightyear’s arm.
These negative thoughts are annoying like flies.
When your broke and seek no improvement, time flies.
Like a confident player’s finger wrapped around a naive girl,
my mind is suffocating in this world
So I over eat when I feel lonely.
I masturbate when I get horny.
So embarrassed, so I avoid company.

Who Has A right To Choose?

This isn’t a poem but a question that I want you to answer in the comment section?

When a woman gets pregnant, is it the woman’s choice as far as keeping the baby or wanting the abortion?

Now most say that a man shouldn’t tell a woman what to do with her body but if the woman wants an abortion but the man wants to keep the baby and the man and woman can’t agree with each other, who do you believe has the right to make the final decision, should the final decision be made from the man because he actually wants own up to his mistakes for being irresponsible and take care of his responsibility or does the woman has the final say so becuase it’s her body and no one can tell her what to do with her body?

Comment below

Is Celibacy Worth It?

A choice to make but time to think about it.
Weighing the options , the positives and negatives.
A hard choice  to make, but happiness is definite
Your true soul mate is promised to you after 4 years   for a lifetime with 3 kids share with if you choose to practice abstinence for a quadrennial period.
Guaranteed  a lifetime of paradise after but the struggle  to survive won’t be concise.
A choice to demise your sex life, but sex is constantly on your mind.
Used  to getting it all the time to not getting any at all .
Now life don’t feel so sweet like candy made of cotton.
Sex toys and vibrators now  out the closet and put it in the coffin.
Vaseline and lotions now serve for only one particular purpose.(side note do you know what I mean by one particular purpose?)
Compared to others now at a disadvantage like the tortoise.
We all want freedom of happiness, but can you go thru hell to find it by facing every demon following satin.
Every morning  you see a new demon, scheming, pressuring you to have sex and how much you need it.
Feels like your guardian angel is nonexistent when Satin sends his followers to pay u a morning visit.
Whispering in your ear leading you to temptation.
Promising you a way to escape prison
remanding you being celibate is stupid telling you everybody else is doing it 
Guarantees you endless sex with the sexiest models and celebrities any time you want.
Guarantees you  massive amounts of money and gives you courage to flaunt 
to the public since money attracts sex.
Promises you that having sex is   the new level of success which gives you the respect you deserve
since lack of sex damages your nerves.
Telling you that how you live off of sex way before you started living by the good word.
God not trying to bless you, why would he put you through a curse like this.
So now ask yourself, is celibacy  worth it?

I Hate Responsibilities

Money, power, respect, I have none of the above.

They say life precious, but I’m staring point blank at my gun,

Contemplating suicide, as I just accidentally bit my tongue.

Just to survive on earth, for a job I must search,

Either burger king or a nurse

If one day I make funds, I kiss the dirt.

Until then, I steal from mom’s purse.

A wise one told me, somebody always got it worst.

But what’s worst than stealing Christmas gifts from neighborhood church?

My mind is on training wheels

I can’t balance life on my own, even though I‘m grown.

Scared to live alone, since I’ve never been shown

how to be a man.

Nobody understands.

It’s like I’m Sam I am,

Scared to eat the green eggs and ham.

My courage is unidentified.

Responsibilities are my kryptonite.

Why Should You Only Impress Yourself

Ask yourself what matters,
You are your own leader. 
You are your own follower
When you look at the mirror,
you are your own competitor,

You are your greatest competition.
In a world that’s non-fiction,
Revamping who you are is your own mission,
Just like the company you work for have their own mission statement demonstrating their values and vision.

Motivating yourself on your own.
No  home court advantage to cheer you on.
Makes it harder to come upon.
Much harder to be motivated when people aren’t around to believe in you,
In reality you are more focus on your goal when people look up to you,
but sometimes that puts more pressure on you.

Pressure is being serverely afraid of being a successful failure.
People don’t put you through pressure,
you put yourself through pressure.
You make your own choices,
In your head, you rely on your own head voices.

Greatest disappointment is impressing others
Greatest satisfaction is impressing yourself and no other but your mother

On the planet earth, we are only visitors.
But the afterlife is where we are looked upon by the only true inspector.
Now that’s where you feel the pressure.
You are judged on everything you done on earth, 
starting from birth.
Once you die, no second chance, no such thing as rebirth.
Your born alone and you die alone.
Nobody’s knows their true permanent home.
Everything you do at this moment,you are being watched by a spirit
beyond way greater than a person.
People don’t determine you final destination.

Have You Ever Had regrets For Giving Up On Someone Or Something?

Closet is not clean,
Skeletons are hiding
and time is a demon
like a child without discipline.
Like gasoline,
the closet is toxic
and the skeletons,
need to get rid of them.
Put them in a coffin
and finally close it.
Love and pain is blinding,
emotions leading to crying
but for different reasons.
Different like the cells
inside the semen.
Still blinded from emotions
so I don’t see men
that can provide motivation.
The ones who hearts aren’t decent
are warriors for the demons
inside my closet.
Personalities are foul
like the smell of garbage
and negative energy
travels like sewage.
Can’t have love without pain
So subconsciously
fell in love with pain
when I learned that
falling in love is painful.
It’s pitiful
being trapped in your own closet.
Remaining still, suffering
while time is moving
like a old man driving
while it’s raining.
No umbrella but withstand the rain
that make puddles
near the drain.
Thoughts run like a drug addict’s
nose from sniffing cocaine.
Mind is racing
but my body is at ease.
For so long I wanted
to seek peace.
Like a homeless man that
wants to eat,
I beg and plead
for these demons to leave me.
It’s like a submissive wife
being abused by her alcoholic husband.
She is nervous and sweating every waking moment.
She loves him but is petrified
of the horrendous beatings.
Is she in love with pain?
Does she stay with him
becuase she believes
she can’t have love without pain?
This type of thinking is insane
like a section 8.
Like a parents reacting
to their teenage daughter getting pregnant
on the first date
is the type of feeling where I can relate.
Frustration and fear is a bad combination.
A pitbull and an American bobtail in the same yard.
A mile away I can just sense the tension
and these demons are staring at me hard.
In my own backyard, I struggle with my demons.
like a man on steroids struggle to maintain an erection.
Need to elude so suicide is what I am contemplating.
An easy way out is to let my demons have the closet.
Need to end my worrying which is destroying my mind
like a earthquake to a building.
Tired of being out numbered and fighting
alone without friends and family
so I will do myself a favor and put myself
inside the coffin.

It will be at least 2 weeks (maybe even longer) before I upload my next post.

Comment below if you think this is a good poem to recite at a open mic!

Comment below if you ever gave up on something and end up regretting it!

Next post I upload will be continuation to this poem of me being in hell and having regrets of committing suicide!

God Bless You All

Prisoner In My Own Life

Trapped with no escape
at the place where I hate.

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My self determination is lost.
Heart right now colder than jack frost.

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I am exposed to the mental torture
by myself in this dark corner.

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Close my eyes and dream,
so bad I wanna be free.

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Open my eyes, my mind plays tricks on me,
force to face the hardship of reality,

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realizing that I am in a place where I must behave submissively.
I as a prisoner, I am own husband or wife,
As you read this, I tell you “Welcome to my life”.

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Writing Is Therapeutic

From left to right

words appear

as I think all night.

I write

from the heart and soul.

My writing is precious

as gold.

Release frustration

and turn combined thoughts

to a full presentation

like a power point slide

and the words I choose

to type

and poetry is the type

of literature I can

express

while in my mind

I’m painting a picture

with deep meanings

at a fast speed

like a baseball

thrown from a pitcher.

In a situation

where I’m hesistant

refuse to accept over thinking

so writing

is my blunt

and I’m smoking ,

Inhaling and exhaling

lyrics and sentences

onto paper

like smoke in thin air

coming from an exhaust pipe.

Smoking a pipe

while I write

ironically thinking

this method will save my life

and I will eat better

than a dyke

having a threesome.

Writing is my freedom

that feeds my belly

and the paper

when I’m publishing

my work through a agency

exposing

to the world.

Writing is my alcohol that heal wounds

Writing is my sun that shine

Writing is the fresh scent like perfume

Writing is the God of love like Cupid

and God heals wounds

that’s why my writing so therapeutic.