A Writers Prayer

Giveaway

When I was a child they abused me
 

Mistreated by my siblings
 

My grandmother died hating me
 

I had friends who used me
 

I been abandoned, hungry and homeless
 

Hopeless and depressed
 

I confess I did not always do my best
 

I often stayed in my mess
 

Pointing the finger of blame away from my own
 

Cursing the day I came into this world
 

Neglected by a father who did not live long
 

I continued to fall and get back up
 

Found it hard to hold my head up
 

Every time I turned around I was being fed up
 

Betrayed
 

If not by a so called friend it was my kin
 

Broken, shattered feeling like I didn’t matter
 

Worn, tattered, abused and b...

To You all

This is more than an honor to achieve at this state and time of my life. I say to you all great men and women you, are all greatly unique in your own way it is your voices that set the vibe in motion. Keep on doing what you do best by continuing to add to the on going conversations of the world. Thank You I am humbly grateful for all of your support.
 

(Nothing happens until something moves, so keep on moving and change the world)
 

Wize Dom
 

Snaps ✒

He wrote so well and poetically
His playwrights Zoetically

A legend to his time and poetry

Born in Gurabo Puerto Rico in 1946
From his country he was torn
He wrote

"This Is Not The Place Where I Was Born"

He moved with his family to New York when he was four
In 1954
his father walked out the door

Leaving his family hungry and poor

He ran the streets of New York with the dragons

He was arrested at age eleven
Hustling on the streets for food and money

By age 20 he was a full fledge junky
He could not shake the monkey

Incarcerated in sing sing
For armed robbery and other things

The { Short Eyes} played out its scene in history

prison life, love, death and mystery
short eyes prison slang for one who distastefully touches a child

{ Short Eyes} nominated and published in a book

Yet and still in his veins more heroin he t...

A Writers Prayer

God Bless the pen I hold in my hand
Give me the inspirational wisdom within
Let me flow steady on to these pages black or blue
Let the ink flow and never dry
Let my words sing halleluiah and open the sky
Let me write my journey end
If reincarnated let me do it again
Thanks for this hand that I write with
Thanks for the words to recite with
Thanks for the phrases
Thank you lord for all these blank pages
Thanks for the keyboard and fingertips
Thanks for the words I recite through my lips
Thanks for the Microphone
Thanks for the time alone
Thanks for the stage
Thanks for the joy happiness and for the rage
Thanks for the scribble thanks for the jot
Thanks for the doodle thanks for the dot
Thanks for the library and all the books they got
Thanks for all the authors’ poets and more
I hold this pen like sword in hand
Thanks for...

Martyr

Seeing what was going to happen to you
Must have been terrifying for you

That’s why you were on top of that mountain
Sweating blood and shedding tears

Those who once followed you now are going to kill you

You shared your wine
You shared your bread

In the desert a multitude you fed

The blind now see
The lame now walk
The deaf now talk
The captives are free

The sick are now healed not by your own but their own faith and will

But they’re going to kill you still

Even your own father won’t  take this bitter cup from your tired hands
Long before the day you were born he had these plans

They beat you again and again

Still you shed your blood for their next of kin

So the next time I think of throwing in my hand

I will remember even you had to stand and follow through with the plan

20011 © WIZE ...

Not Seen

faith not like good luck or magic
helps to get us through things tragic

faith has brought this race this far
not chariot horse buggy are car

what else could have gotten us this far?
by standing on faith alone you can touch a star

faith helps us to hold on longer
the longer you hold on you get stronger

faith is believing that you are never alone
homeless believing that you will find a home

hungry believing that you will be fed
getting up and walking with your bed

believing that help is coming
believing that from a wheelchair you will be running

believing that from your sick bed you will rise
choosing your own truth through all the lies

believing that you will get up from down
God is with you when no one else is around

believing that you will get over from under
believing that sun will rise from the thunder

faith is believing that for...

The One liner

A poet wrote a poem of many lines
Only one stood out to the blind
The rest stood behind
The one line expressed what the poem was about
Like a sore thumb that one line stood out
The other’s stood behind that one perfect line
The one line that stuck in the readers mind
One of the finest quotes that the poet ever wrote
A diamond in the rough buried deeply in the poets notes
Just one line in a poem of no rhyme
The poem that gave birth to one of the greatest lines
The poet did not know at the time
That the pen would deliver a message in just one line
So deeply felt and brilliantly mastered like a sign of the times
With no disaster just one line hail to the master

2008 © WIZE DOM

Point

 Everyone is allowed to shine their light It is their light to shine
The light of others is not to annoy us it is to help them
We should accept and respect the light of others
and we must remember that we have our own light to shine
and we will have to flash it into the lives of others
not to disturb them but to keep us from stumbling in the dark
so the next time someone turns on their light just remember
you have a light too and just like they need theirs
you need yours too

Wordz of Wize

Black child

I really don’t know what happened during slavery
I really don’t know exactly how it came to be
All I know is what I learn in my history
Anything else is a mystery

How did we learn English if we could not read?
Our survival came when they let us have the bible
They thought it would enslave us more but instead
It opened a door born to be free not owned but free

Black sons went off to fight a war to be exterminated
Those who survived shunned and hated
Yes we riot cause we tired of being quiet
Yes we called you whitey and crackers you called us N*ggars

You labeled us with a name of shame
Sure now we use it on each other but I don’t hate
My sisters nor my brothers

Yes we shouted “BLACK POWER”
But knew we had none how could we when we were
Out numbered and out gunned

Poor Jesse Jackson ran for presidency but gave up
...