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		3460
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Total poems - 90 days		79
Total poems - 365 days		229

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Fighting Words

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 Messy

waiting 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 Sun

a 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 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


		mlowe5 says: Such is the nature of the Oppressor Syndrome. We've yet to realize that what we do to ourselves "...is not refundable..." in the struggle. Another powerful write, Poet Wize. Thanks for the share. Peace and Love. poems by this commentor WAITING IN LIMBO Liberating The Womb Word CLANGING ECHOES...