The Immortal Wize

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If you're reading this you're it, get with it stay with it don't quit. Site Rank DIAMOND
Total poems		3456
Lifetime Views		886090
Total poems - 7 days		7
Total poems - 30 days		30
Total poems - 90 days		83
Total poems - 365 days		225

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Easy Dozen

Nov 5

my distaste for voting season is people act like their talking to children telling them don't forget to brush their teeth asking them did they wash their hands telling them what they should do what they need to do what they have to do people act like they get paid to remind grown folk to vote who's going to know you did if they didn't see you do it

Hush It Up (Repost)

m whispering quietly~~~ trying not to waken the beast taking away, what happiness we saved, my black...ness is all I have, you might laugh but it's enough for me wouldn't want to be any other nationality, created most hated so proud of the people though we may be fading in a fleeting moment victims of unlawful and illegal occultic underhanded dealings the truths that are being revealed has reached out and killed many in hidden colors there are some who read the fine print, those who do not fear the number 13 know the underlined truth in the Amendment though I may shake a bit like an aftershock after a California earth quake trembles, my hands are steady my finger are not to nimble to quietly tap the tree, give my people dap empowering them to empower others this is how we can will and still glean

Making You A Fiend Made Me Your Habit

I made you up to keep me company when I was lonely I made myself believe you were real when it was time to let you go you grew too strong to kill I moved on and you are still tagging along making me feel like I'm wrong to make myself believe you gone when you are still holding on

Elevated (Repost)

How high am I to feel so good How high am I to touch the sky How high am I to forget my pain How high am I to think that I 'm sane How high am I to accept and not complain How high am I to stand uncovered in the rain How high am I to not feel a thing How high am I to sit staring out into space How high am I to run slow thinking I'm winning the race How high am I to forget what happened yesterday How high am I to say fuc it to everything How high am I to act as though I'm invincible How high am I to think I'm indispensable How high am I to see clouds in a clear blue sky How high am I to believe that I could fly How high am I to believe everything is going to be alright How high am I I'm not high enough

Blood In The Plan

life in the project growing up too fast rushing the process mom on poison dad in prison outside the set opposition no bread no milk no butter no eggs in the kitchen roaches in the sink with the dishes love loss best friend dead broken pieces shards of thoughts cut deep noise in the hall black mold behind the wall sleeping on a dirty spread weeping words on a rap pad freedom of speech on a rap beat dreams of being hood rich wake up in a rap beef signature on a contract name on a wrap sheet trying to compete out the mud in the dirt bathing in blood on concrete hard to get out the stains spots on the brain street life hard to wean the fame feelings on opioids to cope with the pain eyes of flame heartbeat on lean crime on the rise bells chime clockd strike murder time life in chain life on trial judge shouts "LIFE" then smiled back to the cell sit in jail living in hell it's a weeping shame but who gone cry for the child in the d*ck in the bootie house screaming "LET ME OIT"

Wrote A Poem About It (Repost)

In every blessing there’s a lesson to learn If there’s truly a hell, chances are I might burn Like an oracle my speech is rhetorical Too sharp to be blunt I like to shock Just to see the reactions old enough To be old fashion fought a lot of wars Seen a lot of action been a victim of A fatal attraction buried a lot of friends Bodied a few foes dreaded up my fro Silver follicles blue jeans distressed Sometimes looking a mess how I feel Is how I dress once had a page on Black Planet admins tore it up coz They couldn’t stand to see my numbers up subject on injustice and this world being corrupt talking about some stuff somebody wanted me to shut up had a huge following with massive hits still got it but had to vibe a little differently witted

I Scribe

everywhere I gone everywhere I been everything I done everything I seen everything I learn everything I said everything I heard everything I felt everyone I knew down to everyone I know I can explain it all I demonstrate I illustrate cinematically metaphorically figuratively speaking I am unapologetic poetic I can show what I mean I poem I scribe

Good Night

time to ramp it up if you had enough I wish luck if luck is enough to hold you up a diamond in the rough state of mind won't give up untill it shine patience wait until it's time waste the champaign pour the wine ease dropping on the green line heard it through the grapevine some one told me one time wearing a watch but couldn't tell time approaching the next station but couldn't decide to get off or stay inside to enjoy the ride I jumped off when I seen the sign in the dark I'm a Leo blame the lion not the pride the husband not the bride if the role was ever applied brain split down the the middle two different states of mind trying to stay balance to keep from falling off the middle is a challenge willing to take a misstep to correct a mistake I make the comeback is like surviving a heart attack a near death experience is close but not quite the ghost

Behind What's Under

explode the upload expose the implode unlock and unload while crossing the threshold to pull down the stronghold to get to the treasure trove silver and gold is found underground in the earth what the world calls dirt the truth is worth digging into I rather spend time mining than minding business that's not mine digging up dirt on someone draws more attention to them causing them to shine in the sight of those who have yet to learn how to preserve energy minding one's own business making one's own decisions standing on business preparing Mondays for Tuesdays Wednesdays for Thursdays Fridays Saturdays and Sundays trials and tribulations to weather the unspecified amount of storms to come

The Power Pain Made

the poet wants to be heard the poet wants to be felt the poet wants the word to resinate and synchronize with thought the poet wants to spark ideas the poet wants to make flames the poet wants to start a fire the poet desire is to touch every thing leaving prints behind to be found the poet is bound to be that profound