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(The Virghost) / I remember you, do you remember me / October, November Skies, December 2005 / My eyes tented by my dark shades, not to cover up the ultra violet rays / But to camouflage my ultra violent ways /
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(1st Verse) / This food for thought, taste nutrition in these real compositions / Sit and listen live reportin' from my dimension, an extension of the mind- / That intertwines with the heart inclined with art and rhym
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After seconds, minutes, and hours, days, weeks, and months of wishing you were mine / A trillion-billion floetic thoughts and expressions come to mind squeezed into these ten lines / Over occupied; baby you a
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Crazy lady, you done lost your mind / Are you deaf or blind / Are you aware that this life is real / Or is it just a vague mirage to you / Crazy lady, why do you lie to yourself / Why do you think the world is
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The infection, gunshot wounds a brother doomed / The infection, over 100 homicides this summer, increasing numbers / The infection, more lessons learned from tools then city schools / Adolescence think they cool,by Durand 48 lines, 2 comments, on May 23 12:33 PM 2007. In Neo-Floetry, Real-Talk Poetry, Life, Pain, Society
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As I think let my pen leak ink as I sink into my compositions / Drowning in an ocean of thought / My mind is like a rainstorm, these thoughts I brainstorm / Marinates into a rhyme, evaporates into a poem / It'
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So many confused minds in the fatherless region / Sisters and brothers bein' raised by single mothers / Who's my daddy, where's my daddy, have you seen him they ask / Coverin' they faces with the mask of no emotion
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I had a gun in my hand, pulled the trigga twice / Next thing I know, I'm seein' red and blue lights / I drop the gun shocked starrin at the crime scene / Wanted to run but I couldn't, astonished by him layin' dead blood
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They say I’m talented and blessed with the ability to express / Not being modest when I say I’m not talented, I’m not the best / I write just like the rest, at first I just did it for play / Got serious wrote everyda
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Heard a wise man speak of forever, I'm tryna find it / Wanna be free from this psychological solitary confinement / So I open my "suburban windows", open my ears, I'm open-minded / No longer blinded, I hope my door cby Durand 43 lines, 1 comment, on May 20 11:29 PM 2007. In Neo-Floetry, Real Talk Poetry, Life, Society
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Haters say my poems are bland, Stans and fans say my writing is grand / But don't either one understand, my speech is from another land / The Motherland of Africa, the tradition is vernacular / My roots from back in
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It was a spring day in April or May, she wore a tiny light blue skirt / Sandals, jewelry, accessories, and a small white shirt / He went out with her a couple of times, occasionally they would flirt / She wanted to be h
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Who’s more blessed than who / He been through more mess than me / I been through more stress than you / No matter where you from the struggle still remains / We all Black Men, pains are one in the same / Comin’
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Livin’ through what was and is, following the Love Below / Eyes looking down at what I wrote, never been sprung on words before / The Love Above I look towards the sky, free-spirited, flying high / Infatuated with
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