Black Poetry : Journey’s walk

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by dnommo, Dec 17, 2003.

  1. dnommo

    dnommo Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Journey’s walk through time
    Seeking the place where their
    Name is positioned and their
    Purpose is explained by end;

    Journey’s walk of life is not just
    Living but fulfilling the existence
    Of truth wrapped within the quiet
    Of solemn internal understanding;

    Could it ever be more than a walk?
    Or could the journey be hindered
    By persistent impatience and doubt
    Forcing the stroll to become a run;

    Never planned for the race but trained
    For the walk for if I looked to the path
    Without cautious thought my journey
    Shall end in fruitless assumptions;

    Journey’s walk is manifested not
    Manufactured for the true journey
    Is designed specifically for one not
    To be repeated by the masses…

    Although journey’s walk could be similar…

    Thoughts to ponder today…
     
  2. MzBlkAngel

    MzBlkAngel Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    i really like this piece....
    makes you wonder....
    i likes :angel1:
     
  3. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

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    o yes the man from the mellows back in flow
    tyte scribe Mr. D
     
  4. dnommo

    dnommo Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    thank you both...it is good to visit home...
     
  5. MzBlkAngel

    MzBlkAngel Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    most welcome and its nice to read you....
    continue to drop ya flow...i likes:angel1:
     
  6. dnommo

    dnommo Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    thank you poet...i am quieted by your words...

    one.
     
  7. dnommo

    dnommo Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    ..............
     
  8. BaduX

    BaduX Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    i luv this one!!
    yo poems are of
    the hook
    GOD BLESS :jumping:
     
  9. BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE

    BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE Nefertum Husia Shayheh MEMBER

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    it is more than a order,
    i still got that militant attitude,
    i still struggle hard,
    i still keep pushing,
    i still promise keeps,
    i still grow deeper,
    i still see clearer,
    i use to squad clever,
    i let my thoughts move better,
    i general for the dead spoken live,
    i still need no medal,
    you only die once,
    they who is the adversary gone kill me,
    it is reality of violence against justice,
    or i can die old supplying information,
    the same information already circulated,
    like a fan doing it's job,
    but how many fans do we have inside a mansion,
    full of ideas from minds with and without heart?
    i need succession so dumping me out,
    lightens the load while marching,
    i use to chew sunflower seeds,
    now i chew spirituality even though it is a word,
    still i burn images of the past greats deeply mentally,
    i was touched by loyalty from the hearts of many,
    i understood every man and woman of race,
    i have not read all books yet,
    i do not plan on it so which side i choose?
    none though i got family who are homeless,
    i know elders who pushing eighties giving all they got,
    i know babies of this world that knows of it not,
    i know i know many...
    momma always told me to calm down,
    the anger she understands,
    see she use to work for three dollars and some change,
    wow times have increase only four dollars and some change,
    or maybe a ten dollar bill,
    or maybe a twenty depending the skill level,
    or maybe a degree gets you a salary pay,
    or maybe your own boss paid working solely,
    i can be ignorant to they rules,
    for the sake of surviving physically,
    but then again what is the use?
    naw not those thoughts again,
    they swing in real time,
    like a chandelier of lights,
    which direction can i go,
    where no other soul will go?
    within myself deeper out comes skills,
    the gift of talents realer out my mine,
    i keep digging deeper,
    i seen your smile while walking,
    happy to see you grooving on,
    succession will get you there,
    so in my loft manifestation stays up there,
    watching over my bed dented slightly,
    time lost in the winds,
    i celebrate no holiday,
    i know no day or week,
    months fly by quicker,
    at high speed when life delivers,
    your realest picture...
    the mirror..the mirror,
    you can be horrible...
    it can get uglier,
    meaning fate but let destiny carry me,
    like those feathers writing invisibly,
    with each fall side to side,
    dimensionally and diagonally,
    stroking degrees all around,
    let me blow you around intelligently,
    i can be your god supplying virigina's wind chill,
    our feelings freeze instantly blown away,
    coming around again maybe at forty miles per hour,
    dayum i felt those limitations against me slipping up,
    touching ground fingertips stuck painfully,
    withdrew my prints earth found my destiny worthless,
    she will be the sole survivor,
    or is it he laughing after rains come out under sun's rainbow,
    as matter of direction water bends like archer's bow,
    release my blues ragtime at rest,
    southern played right country folk slang kind,
    i got i got an ole tongue,
    taste buds weaker,
    stomach shrinking smaller,
    i see my ribs slightly,
    waist smaller,
    cut up harder,
    more veins out hands,
    more veins out feet bulging,
    from all those walks in the snow,
    from all those walks on the streets coping,
    from all those times running at the lovers' meet in circles,
    from all those times pacing when my...
    how does it feel to be gripping air inside your fists?
    oh how does it feel to be hundreds away from pennies or rich?
    depending on the route once again,
    where are the dreamers without hesitation in the south?
    they everywhere from over there to over here,
    though unequal economics make us enemies at first sight,
    we lie to each other and got suits too,
    she looked me up and down shallow instead inside of deep,
    but i can't tell her not to judge me by the cover,
    she ain't even peeled back the pages contemplating contemplating,
    never will i understand after reading the past from years and years ago,
    it's like being stuck in the past cause the future does not exist,
    only in my mind though i keep tabs on good changes,
    i can produce business to fuel an small economy,
    it takes time young man her voice rings forward again,
    the elder lady with that pea-coat on gray hair slicked back,
    stay with me kindred of ole soul on the road you on lady,
    she talks with kindness and smile glows,
    beautiful young eyes pierce through my soul,
    and i felt her truth shine through feeling live,
    i felt good long time coming,
    as she walked off her presence slowly disappeared,
    and i understood her succession....


    (Diary of a Black Man)
     
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