Cup of Joe

sometimes im grumpy when i wake up,until ive had my morning cup.
it’s hot, sweet,creamy and brown and feels so good going down.
it goes so well with my pie the aroma really gets me high.sometimes i drink it when im sick
sometimes i crave it its my fix.
this thing is my only vice and this thing makes me feel so nice.makes me feel warm all over makes me drunk instead of sober.my favorites when its black and strong keeps me up all night long.for those of you who dont already know coffee aint got shit on my cup of joe.

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love

LOVE is a four letter word
A word that is strong in meaning
It is the beauty
The romance
The laughter
The tears
Love is everything
remember
LOVE

THRUSTING AMERICA’S LOVE OUTWARD

I compel you to love your country.

To draw her into your arms ever so tenderly,
To embrace her softly, dearly to your heart,
To huddle close, near together her masses,
And sense her least sustained yearning.

I compel you to love your country.

A nation that lifted the breast of humanity
Caressing it tenderly toward equality’s rapture
With gentle fingers of selfless, searing desire
Exploring over her ever toward paradise.

I compel you to love your country.

Freedom lovers damp in stiff-limbed writhing
Stumbling kisses upon red-barreled bravery,
Softly probing her robust and supple liberty,
Heed now her cries of woeful sovereignty!

I compel you to love your country.

Between her Trail of Tears and Mount Misery
She still waits upon the coupled plains of affection
Ready for our design and mastery of this worlds love
Panting heavy expectation upon her shape.

I compel you to love your country.

Perched upon the shore of Rolles Creek she waits
With Mount Pleasant in reach of her willing fingers.
With expectant sounds of closure now within her folds
She lunges forth with an expectant mouth!

I compel you to love your country.

O! Gentle sleep now beckons to her languid pink flesh
As the rogues tongue laps at her ebbing shores of joy
And beckons her let go of her valuable love’s embrace
Lunging forth behind her eager lips!

She counters not… for she is the boiling hunger we seek.

What a devoted worship we’ve had with the motherland.
Many a great poet has written their songs upon her flesh;
Their bright and shimmering waters lapping her shores
In ardent freedom’s want of hopes howling, dripping heat.

I compel you to love the world!

On this day of days let us remember her youthful glow,
Her ripe fruit of wonder, her drowsy ache of emancipation,
Her most alluring burnish upon our exploring of her skin.
(The burden of immense throbbing now falls upon her heart!)

I compel you to love the world!

America, carry your waves to all shores. Hope, not savagery,
In your goodness, not in impudent desire to control destiny.
Leave not the naked child, but your desire alone on the road.
Shelter not your intentions, but those most needful and hungry.

I compel you to love the world!

We have been witness to our dove, crippled and flailing in terror!
We’ve been onlookers to our expectations emerging fruitless.
Watching unmoved while our oily desire bleeds into the waters
And the cold white eyes of death tread progressively before us.

I compel you to love the world!

Come now, peace. Come now, warriors, lay down your guns
To witness the beauty at your hands as she lays down your sword
And with dripping red lips envelops your craving to possess her.
Do you not hear the night voices calling you with an angels whisper?

I compel you to love the world!

To open the door and step out into the bright sun, desire can wait.
Take notice of the many tender, breathing, soul-caked living.
Gaze upon the world’s most unbendable faith in humanity.
Gently touch her skin, delicately massage her furious soil.

I compel you to love the world!

Enter her sculpting space and weave a covering made of lifeless war.
Paint upon her face a gentle art made of your temples sweat.
Scribe a love song upon her back with the eagle’s most willing blood.
Erect in her a tower of light for all to see that they might weep.

I compel you to love the world!

The masses of age lie here and we should not be so ready to die
Like confused animal’s hooved in selfishness, deficient and artless.
The world is full of freedom lovers damp in stiff-limbed writhing
Stumbling kisses upon red-barreled bravery, tenderly probing liberty.

I compel you to love the world!

Amid her supple lands and majestic mountains she waits our affection,
Ready for our desire and design embracing her most ready warmth
Needing our hot hope upon her shape, wanton as wide-eyed first love.
(Heed now the world’s hot desire for freedom pulling us in.)

With hopeful whisper’s within her waters, she leans forth, expectant.
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Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman
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http://apoeticjustice.blogspot.com/

T.R.U.S.T

“TRUST” is a strong word
A meaning broken in two
This word is formed around one letter
The letter which is “U”

For “U” are the I live for
The only one I love
And if “U” remain by my side
The “U” becomes an “US”

For “US” means no other love
Only me and “U”
And from this day I can say
Forever I’ll stay “TRU”

“TRU” to this relationship
In hopes it will never “RUST”
For “U” are the one I give my love
The only one I “TRUST”

Desperate

A blow from behind
Her body feels sore
The crown of her head
Catches the floor

So why love if love
Doesn’t love you anymore
Why stay with a man
Who rips your soul from the core

I’ll tell you why–Desperate.

She started as a shorty full of life
Then one day up and caught pop’s strife
Watching mom bleed constantly from the dome
This wasn’t TV, this was her home

Her sweet innocence was gone when she was nine
By her brother more than a dozen times
But he fucked up and touched the wrong dime
Whose nigga pulled out a black nine
Shot nine shots, and put her brother in a pine box.

So why put up with this shit today
Cuz the abuse are words someone will never say
And though she tried to go through the right way
Someone pulled her back and told her to stay

Now she’s strung out posted on the wall
Full of heroine, meth, and tons of eight ball
If she needed some help she wouldn’t know who to call

Her mom started tricking and got strung out
Daddy couldn’t keep the bottle out of his mouth
I guess guilty consciences ruins a rep
Cuz after he killed mom, he turned it on himself

Now she’s by herself lurking about
Laying on the floor of a distant crack house

So how did all this come about?
The next time you think about just three words
I know sometimes it sounds absurd
But when has three words saved you
Remember in all that you do
I need you or I love you
May be the link between old and new
Right now she’s still on that floor
Taking a beating, anticipating a score
The next time you open a brand new door
What if nobody loved you anymore.

Desperate for time.
Desperate for crime.
Desperate to switch.
Desperate for a hit.
Desperate for love.
Desperate for life.
If only three words could make it alright.
“For Shantell Neely-I Love You”

Da Flag

I pledge allegiance
To the red, black and the green
for red, white & blue
left me with red scars and welts,
white-hot ire and singing blue.

Timothy N. Stelly, Sr.

God’s Favorite Color

God’s favorite color must be black &
the many variations thereof
Take a look around the world…

The real Miss Universe
is the mocha-colored maiden
w/nappy hair, slender arms & a shy smile
She is from Tanzania
& is the mother of all men

Angelic is the honey-colored girl from Alabama
w/ green eyes and thick lips
a wide nose & wide hips
or skin painted bronze by the sun
w/charcoal eyes, lips persimmon
& curves sculpted by the steady hand of the Lord

Brown as desert sand
or the color of newly-minted pennies
dark as a fig
or as light as butter
sepia, red-boned, café au lait, mahogany
humankind’s rainbow
big thighs / ass 4 daze
or skinny as a rail
bald, permed or giant afro
young, old and all that in-between
She’s a queen
In a dashiki, muu-muu or skin-tight jeans

She’s alluring even when she’s not trying to be

Beautiful & BLACK—
God’s favorite color.

Timothy N. Stelly, Sr.