Sue + Me

Sue wanted Me
Me wanted Sue
But Me knew it’d only bring Sue shade
And Sue was a sunflower so
Me dissipated
Allowing sunlight in
A saber of solar
Stabbing through a storm cloud


Shit From A Distance

life is like walking down the street and seeing death come in the opposite direction
if you turn around now it’d look suspect
so you keep walking
with each step growing older
getting closer to your demise
along the way you think about what to say when you get close
maybe something witty
you’re really just hoping for a quick nod
and to not be interrupted
but death is a talker
she wont let you get away that easily
i’ve yet to meet her; death
but we’ve been walking towards each other for a long time now and
im beginning to see her silhouette in the distance
its shapely, curves in all the right places
then again, my vision has always been…


It wasnt the waiting that irked him
More so the not knowing
Not knowing what fate the future held
For better or for worse?
It was as if
Some celestial was sitting on a cloud
Toying his destiny between uncaring fingers
In any case, the best strategy was to wait it out
Not that he had much of an alternative

a Pen a Book and a Web

There was a man
In his hand a pen
On his lap a notebook
As the pages grew
Stained-crumpled w/ age
A man noticed something peculiar
Everything he wrote
Came to be
Or so he thought

So to test his theory
He authored experiments
A man was right about his hunch
Also he learned something new
More PWRful than his pen & book
Was the web of conscious surrounding them

The kids on the corner
The elders of the streets
Even some random at Church’s Chicken
He noticed, could see him
As he saw them when
Biographing their moments

A man was so stunned
By all that he knew
In order to stay sane
He refused to believe it true
A man tried to retreat
Back to what he was before
the book, the pen and the web
But he could not repress this door
This door was made of a heavy
Unlike any other before
This door remained open
Albeit not wide just ajar
Enough for a man to manage

Based On A True Story

There’s always that one guy
Mr. White
Who dreams of being accepted by
Ms. Black
Mr. White loves the music
Mr. White loves the cuisine
Mr. White loves everything about Ms. Black it seems
Except her people

Cuz no matter how hard
Mr. White claims to be bout it
No action
Past or present
Could be attributed to his words

Mr. White hated hearing this
But Ms. Black was determined to spit truth
It was so plain to see
To her at least
Mr. White was guilty of ½ steppin
And it’d take more than rap music
Or sympathies
To convince her of anything else

So she offered him a simple solution
Follow me
As she moved into the streets
Mr. White stood there
Left with only the truth and a choice

Ben the Reaper

Ben my friend you’ve come so far yet
It’s not my time to die
I only need just a little more
time, time, time

We had a deal and in
Exchange for life
Ben, for you, i’ve killed

In this book i tote filled with notes i wrote
List the names of all the dead
I’ve 1 more life to take, total of 10,
for you, Ben, my friend

When the hour strikes 10, our contract ends
Till then, Ben, spare my life