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Monthly Archives: April 2013

Day 10 of NaPoWriMo! ENtry #6

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Okay yes, I have slipped on writing everyday of the month. They did say it was hard for many. I guess I am that one of many. But I got plenty of room to fill screens with wordplay. My fault I am sitting here listening to some dope beats, and bout to write a rhyme. Hip HOp all day lol

“And now, the (again, optional) prompt. Many of us have read and even written love poems. But have you written an un-love poem?”


Kill me with Silence


I Try to listen with open ears thru the years, eliminate fears

 but I come out the courageous coward.

Battle wombs with out the sense of pain, just wispering war cry’s 

I feel broken with no ties.

But now I am just using fillers, this Lover man no Killer

I heal the painstaking process of letting go, on the go

 never thinking poor.

Pronounce it Po, for Piling Opposition,

Never intended to pick fights, but never saw submission.


Okay I am finished. This is just a free flow verse going where the music is taking me.

Aiight lets come back for Day 11


























































NaPoWriMo Entry # 5, Late but Poetic

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Slept late thru the morning and awoke before my Biological 

Tick tock to get up, go get it, and be non- stop

Short but not sweet, Cause I dont roll that way

NaPoWriMo ENTRY # 4

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Our prompt for today (again — totally optional!) is a little odd, but here goes. Recently, I read an article about the Scottish science fiction writer Iain M. Banks. His books often have spaceships in them There’s a whole twitter account devoted to tweeting Iain-M-Banks-like names for spaceships. So your challenge for today is to write a poem with a title drawn from one of these spaceship names. ( I picked, Prosthetic Conscience)

Prosthetic Conscience is the craft I entered into about 37 yrs ago,

I opened my eyes fearlessly and said here we go.

I planed the mission and anticipated my destination,

I hit this planet and aimed  knowing I would land with no hesitation.

I pushed a few words out, into space and fill in blanks where once existed black holes.

Whitewashed with doubt I ask does this poem, deserve gold or a pile of coals.

I pushed this out not really feeling poetic. I spent hours creating sound Now I need to rest in silence. Naw I am bullshitting. I am about to watch some T.V

Day four will give birth to the 5th day of the week.

Wordless Mayhem!


Thanks for Reading!

NaPoWriMo ENRTY # 3

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To day was  a simple day


No complexity

Intricacies were easily left behind 12 hours prior.

It is hard to gather myself softly when you killing me with the bullshit.

I side step it all

I am a Verbal Matador red eyed(not cause I am devilish either lol)  on the pulpit


Okay I have to admit I slept on the actual third day. Literally lol.

It is 55 minutes past. But I got it in. Count it.


NaPoWriMo ENTRY # 2

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“Today’s prompt is drawn from an idea that Kelsey Howard gave me — that of a poem that tells a lie. I think you could have a poem that’s all lies (that could be very funny — full of things like “the sun is the size of a nickel”) or a poem that steadily builds to telling one big whopper. I can imagine these being very poignant, or very much like goofy shaggy-dog stories. I suppose it all comes down to what you want to lie about!”

Ripe apples hang on to branches like I did my woman,

She didn’t LOVE me, she just hated the idea of Happiness.

Woman want soft men to hit them hard in the Heart.

I am  angry as a happy man searching for enjoyment in LIFE.

I am a lier, I play the game called Truthful.

I am empty for words, if you know me, you know that is Poetic,

Silence is Pathetic and I am guilty of being bored busily. 



NaPoWriMo entry # 1

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This is the first day of me participating. This is will be a good challenge and way to get disciplined to write everyday. We all know that every writings don’t have to be a masterpiece. But the aim is to offer a piece of a master, this is my craft.

I am not sure how it works but it was stated that we are offered prompts to follow. This is today’s: write a poem that has the same first line as another poem.

When I see the little Buddhist scouts Marching with their Zen mothers

I stand still in a Zen like gaze and meditate on my Adulthood.

Manhood from a boyish glance is just a chance to struggle

Pain is the cost of playing monk when you can’t be still and surrender to the struggle.


written on 4/1/13

inspired by Bob Kaufman, Cranial Guitar( Reflections on s Small Parade)