|
• Poetry
Books:
 - Chi
Tao New!
- Artist@Large,
Poetic MC, Lyrics New!
- Zentao
Taozen, Remebering their faces
- Tao
projects: TAO SHE, HIS TAO, TAO EAT
• Spoken Word Albums
•
Poems: Updated!
- Dirty Dutch
- Hush Little Baby
- Mystical Smokers Dimensional Floaters
- Bitching Mothers
- Not a Mad Man
- Poetic Mothers
- Begging
a Dollar
- A
Question in My Head
- Abanding
Children
- I
wish My Sister
- Ghetto
Youth
- Person
To Person
- Serbia
Rom
- A
Woman with Clothing
• Forum of thoughts
Poems
Dirty
Dutch
Dutch is
a bully often wherever he goes there would be trouble.
He steals the bones from other dogs, barked at old ladies
Worst while he is a sleep a robber ran through his house
He is such a worthless dog this dirty Dutch.
He does not
like to take a bath he would bellow a howl
And splash around then after roll on the dirty ground
Through the market he would roam eating scraps he found
Sometimes he would bring his garbage home.
On the pretty
sheets he would lay his four dirty feet
On a rainy day he would go outside to play
Jumping in the mud and like it like a fudge
This dirty dog is too much he is always acting like a pig
So one day
Ama took him to the farm
When he saw the sheep, chickens, horses and cows
He gave a big howl, but when he saw the pigs
Quickly he ran to join in playing in their mud
Dirty Dutch
a pig of a dog or a dog of a pig
No one knows why he is like this?
^
top ^
Hush
Little Baby
Hush little
baby hush little baby
Rest your head and got to sleep
Close your eyes as you lay on your sheet
Hush little baby… hush little baby
Don't say
a word
Daddy is going buy you a mocking bird
If that bird don't wish to sing
Daddy going buy you more beautiful things
Hush little
baby don't say a word
Daddy will help to heal your World
My special little pearl my sweet little girl
Hush little baby and calm nerves
Don't you
know
Your daddy's special little girl
^
top ^
Mystical
Smokers Dimensional Floaters
To all Mystical
Smokers
Not the weed dopers
The serious promoters
The dimensional floaters
This comes form a Mystical Smoker not a joker
Respect due to all the herb hustlers
Whether you are Ganja Growers or Weed Sellers,
I said respect to the cautious travelers and to all Herb Hustlers.
I am a Mystical
Smoker
Not a weed doper
I don't smoke to touch the sky
Nor do I smoke to get high...
That's not
my style
Otherwise I might fall from the sky
I am Mystical Smoker not a weed doper
Stepping
forward in-tune & relaxing your mood
Isnes is Sensi, Sensi is Isnes it's an alchemist business
A Mystical point of view
No I am not a weed doper
I am a Mystical Smoker a dimensional floater
^
top ^
Bitching
Mothers
Your mama
is a bitch
that's how
you were born
Some say
she spread her legs
just like a dog
Now you looking
at me
and thinking you are so tall
Bitching
mothers you will fall
Your stupid children trying to make me bawl
Twitting
humans in fear of thoughts
So they walking in the dark
^
top ^
Not
a Mad Man
I am not
mad man
Will you stop shaking you head
I am not a mad man yes my hair is long
I do not
hate so I try to live great
I welcome all to my gate
I am not a mad man the hue I have make others mad
I am a simple
one I wish no harm to other ones
Perplexing complex stating I am mad
Because I greet not by shaking hands
Time is short
as we grow old
So I have no moment with those
Seeking to disturb my soul.
^
top ^
Poetic
Mothers
Water running
from my eyes
I just learn my Poetic Mother died
Lord why could you not spare a little more time?
Wicked ones them travelling in styles
But you take mi Mada before her time?
The happiness
she bring cause plenty to sing
Living in Holland doing my thing
Waiting for the day when both of us would sing
Mama I'll continue to teach your styles
Of how Jamaican dialect changing time
I just learn
my Poetic Mother has died
I am far away still I must cry
Wicked ones them in fling
Some don't even know bout ring ding
Them selling reggae like dope
I have just
learned that my Poetic Mother has died
Water running from my eyes no joke, no lie
A lady of refine, her life inspired millions to shine
^
top ^
Begging
a Dollar
Ghetto youth
survived I used to beg for a dollar
In Jamaica trying to survive ghetto youths them try
A lucky one him survived thatıs me with a smile
Now I got to remember those that died no one else care thatıs why
We all begged for the dollar struggling by the hour
Excuse me Madam do you have a dollar
Excuse me Sir do you have a dollar
Watching
the police or the individuals acting like beasts
Puffing like yeast nothing would they share on release
Wishing blind at the starving child in this age of time
This pattern is still a crime, ghetto youths begging to get by
Fools thinking in disguise because they living high
Trying to silent the cries none care if ghetto youths live or die
Excuse me my friends, my sisters, my brothers do you have a dollar
No need to
yell about going to hell weıre already there my friends
Canıt you tell paradise in hell, the wars, the destructions, there is
no water in the wells
Still born due to poor health, on the other side of the fence I saw enormous
wealth
Churches with pews of gold collecting the money and robbing the souls
Governmental subsidy for illusions of schemes industrial greed
So much profit without benefits the ghetto youths feeling it
Itıs just a dollar no need for your verbal shower & swelling like a frog
Putting their
faces in sag as they tighten their hands
Without a second thought some gave with an open heart
And advices to stay in school as well as try not to be rude
³Young one you must achieve what others fail to do²
Now I am very, very happy I got up off the stool
I used my knowledge of creativity to pay my way through school
Ghetto youths of the World be cool let no one turn you into fools
Continue
begging for your dollar
As well as strive for bettering your tomorrows
^
top ^
A
Question in My Head
Who are you...
my mother... thatıs what you say?
Where were you when I was sick yesterday?
Today all I hear is excuses for yesterday
Who are you my mother thatıs what you say?
From your child you hide far away
I only saw you when you had something to give away.
Who are you
my mother thatıs what you say?
A woman may give birth
But that does not make her a mother on the Earth
So much skirts even after birth the pain still hurts.
^
top ^
Abanding
Children
This one
is for the older brother
Memories of long ago no father no mother... Where did they go
In hiding from what I do not know
The negative stories the imbalance of their skills
A mother I called to please a will in honoring of all their bills
No breasts to rest our heads... no arms to warm the chills.
Once or twice a year she passed through with gifts and offerings
On Sundays and Tuesdays he came from a meal or to beat us at will.
No over-standing of the scars they created...
No acceptance of abanding their children... a denial of their ill wills.
Wow I still have love after so much misgivings.
The absence of currency cause the absence of she
Money it seems... is the key
^
top ^
I
wish My Sister
I wish I
had the memories of such life
I wish I could say my mother is my best friend
I am as much a stranger from a dark womb
As the one I meet on the street
A father to encourage me thatıs another dream
The mistakes I made led to the experiences of abuse
Once my life flashed before my face
In her hand
was pressure pot that knocked me away
From television I learnt not education
But participation in self-studyration.
Animals in
nature have a mother and father.
As a child I only had a brother.
^
top ^
To
the Youths of the Ghetto
All over
ghetto youths a suffer
Little youth grow up killing their brothers
Little youth growth raping them sister
Some sell their souls just for a little gold
Some open
wide only to lose their pride
All over ghetto youths a suffer
I have traveled the globe and seen
I have listened to silent of their screams
All over
ghetto youths a suffer
Tears like rain but many donıt care
Some donıt want to know about the hour
Of how the ghetto youths a suffer.
^
top ^
Person
to Person
Donıt take
it personal
So much shit but that should not bother we
Donıt take it personal it just about the green
Many want us to forget about slavery
No plans for repatriation of their evil on the oldest nation
So much wicked intentions
Supreme ego and gift of manipulations
There is no intention of monetary compensations
So donıt
take it personal
So
much shit but that should not bother we
Mental captivity is the standard to be
The illusion of fantasy that the tool in controlling we
^
top ^
Serbia
Rom
³White²
man no like I
After you raped my mother
Killed my father
My little sister will never bare child
Yet you donıt like I
I should
smile...
Cleaning your garbage
Your sewage I know inside
To prove self
I am required to walk miles
Coptic images
show a different time
Icons of my ancestors you will deny
Governments fighting for high
as they drop many bombs from the sky.
^
top ^
A
Woman with Clothing
She is in
the Nude.
Behold such beauty anew this Goddess in forms of Divine view
I Lust on
you because thatıs what nature indented of us to do
Some men wish to act the fool
Queens
of Lands and Nations
Once rulers your expression are in full view.
Like the
Phoenix
your flames in magnificent will once again bloom
Stepping
from the womb
Mother
of children like me and you gifted ones expressing their views
As the wind
sings the Ancient mystic of the Willow Tree
releasing the secrets through She
Stop
& look
An ass assume nude expression is not Art
Without the creation of She
I
ponder
Where
Would
These
Fools
Be.
^
top ^
İ
Ank Justice SteadySpear. All rights reserved. Web
design by  .
|
