if art is power then the artist is the recipient of the ability to change the shape of things like one who produces sculptures gifted hands of a clay maker the artist is always saying something where there is an ear one is listening waiting in the gallery for the next creation with one stroke of a brush can change the face of a nation a word that can express many things in so many different ways impossible can't hold a flame to a miracle worker
The Immortal Wize
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The Work
CATEGORY
life
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COMMENTS
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mlowe5 says: Indeed! "Only the worker dies...the work goes on. Peace and Love. |
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bang'o lu says: Our mothers painted masterpieces we are yet to finish... coloring between the lines of life. The artist is its own very first masterpiece... The everlasting genius behind every creation. Thanks for sharing |
OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY The Immortal Wize
No Two Ways About Itthere's a old say that goes you have to laugh to keep from crying I get it I'm laughing but not cause I want to cry for any particular reason you know that idiom it never fails it means it happens every time once we recognize we're out of our league it's wise to pursue a league of our own I'm smiling I have something to smile about that don't have nothing to do with what's going on in the world something I can't do nothing about on that note "Uh Oh" is an expression of alarm dismay and means it's too late "it's about to go down"  |
Enthrall (Repost)got these broken wings I don't know why I never could fly I never wished for such a thing so many others dream so many others sing I wish and I wish on other things like we all, wakeup at the same time How bout that? we can all celebrate you...know have a good time fun, without, someone getting beside themselves pulling out a gun killing another mothers son or someone's baby girl, we'll just sit around talking about what we're going to do with all the wealth sadly the mule has died of natural causes but, there's plenty of acres and homes to be had now if I could just, find that genie, I got a few more to settle the score |
It Gets Messywaiting for something I want hope and wish to happen is like watching a mouse hole real close while holding a bat |
On The Heels Of The Suna Butterfly abandons her egg her offspring is left behind without a mother to cling to some would think doomed from the start giving into our circumstance is refusal to change everyone gets a chance a Caterpillar cannot transform into a Butterfly if it die before its/it's time the light is often taken off the Caterpillar and shown on the Butterfly the mother of a Caterpillar is a Butterfly she gives birth to the one who is destined to transform she's the one who gives birth to change the Caterpillar is one who comes out the dark into the light where one come from does not determine where one will end up |
The Ripple (Repost)trying hard is not trying hard enough enough we have to put faith in the sun that it will shine again even when the sky is gray everything around us falls apart as long as our heart is beating we're not defeated nor are we destroyed something goes wrong we must be strong it won't be long hold on here we go back to the dome in some form or another if you're with someone then you got each other if we build our foundation strong enough to float how can we go under let lightening strike we're made of thunder take a sip from the power within put the cup down raise the pen we write to win this is a conquest not a contest a inkwell of consciousness |
Nov 5my 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 HabitI 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 Planlife 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" |