Freedom is when I grasp a black pen.
Freedom is when I turn pages looking for an empty canvass.Freedom is my pen, my paper my imagination...all fused in one to create art..which is.Art viewed in the minds of readers and supporters.I'm free when I'm writing as it gives me a feeling of no worries.I remove the burdens apon my shoulders and convert them into idea's.What I wrote last week, that you read about is what I use to cry about.Now it's no more a one way lane of pain, I'm changing my route.A different view of life in 2d.Giving birth to a scene in 3d. Thats's life.Poetry is my escape from reality.When I got my weapons nothing can phase me, as they say.The pen is mightier than the sword.The harshest can't derail my train of poetry as it's my world.Liven up my soul never speak of death.Joy of writing as if I've inhailed crystal meth.I'm levitated with alphabets with appreciation.I'm free.
Number3
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Poetry is freedom
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love_supreme says: Very nice |
OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY Number3
Let us.On our knees ...in belief We better end this all with our hands clasped together. With our heads bowed down. Let us not be at the end of our tether. In the stormy weather let's dance... With our tears camouflaged Let's forgive and forget ...with hope. And emerge...as we came into the world..once again. A new chapter, in the continuance of our adventure. Sing, chant and even whisper, to the most high. Let our aspirations be known. Strive for greatness... where the story begins.  |
The Travelling manKicking rocks in his path, he glides across tar roads like his skimming the lake, No fake his real, no metal design, a jacket, jeans and a pair of sneakers.The vision that sustains his homosapien wonder of a body, just walking, his view is sweet sunsets and sunrise.Amongst other guys, he is the travelling man.Discovering while strolling, notebook and pen, turning pages, putting to pen, imagination.Producing chapters of stories, folk tales and good judgment, insight in to the future.The travelling man, taking lefts and rights shortcuts, enquiring on what's hidden for us.En route on road 26, ABCDisturbing, Everyone's Faces, Ghostly Heads Immaculately Jargoned Keeping Letters, Memo's, Notepads, Opened, Psychologically Questioning Reason. Submissions TKO'ng Universes Verbally... Words. XYZ.Just as easy, the calligraphy skills cause spillages so stay on your knees and listen.Words the weapons, pu... |
Black Sheep...2014 Jan contest entryTrapped between the spokes of society's movement; adhering to the motion with no ill talk of improvement. Tradition.Mind elusive; years pass by yet its the same situation...the black sheep like a uneven texture is protruding.Uneven.The Libra scales tilt in favor of the common; the judgement is marked the modern is wrong the classic is right.Light.In none we are the same; daytime separation between races of different faces.The black sheep a sheep among othersheep segregated on a skin pigmentation...Society's lock.To the big door of freedom; caught in chains of misery, shackles of suffering, cuffs of difference. Yet we hold the key.Blindsided.The blind see what they feel, believe what's their "real"...The real deal.The black sheep fears none as he, is blind to societies mindcontrol. The black sheep sees what the typical individual, living a typical life, would ty... |
Take a journeyI just wana go ther... A long journey.A tough journy.Its worth the exhaustion.Envisioning your destination.Visualizing the trophy.The first stop for you only.It lies in wait answering the truth.For thee only. At the finish line to collect your fancy sache.Yet you at the begining thinking you progressing..sagging your head all day.Broken dreams.Walking backwards is the way it seems.You took a wrong turn to achieve your dreams...take a u-turn.To the journey where you'll earn.Your worth on earth multiplied by dreams your destiny.Unlike many take a chance and walk the journey.You wana go there, I wana go there, we all wana go there.Yet we staring in the mirror hours and hours fixing ourself hoping someone wiill maybe stare.I mean maintain your looks but there's more to a book than the cover looks.We are storys.Page by page exploring.... |
Believer-liningIn complex events. Serenity is unseen. Faith. Keep believing. |
Keep WalkingThrough the heavy rains. Filled with gruesome pains. There is a way.Through the darkness.Luminated by emptyness.There is a light.You might not see it now but...You keep on walking and you will see.In front of your eyes, the power of belief...will set you free.From the shackles bounding you...the trivialities weighing down your smile.Step back and..look at the bigger picture...think for a while...But not too long as...life keeps going and..you need to keep walking.The storms on the horizon and..you need to find shelter...less talking and more doing.Change your life for the better and start living. |
Light through the keyholeLight through the key hole. Alone in this room; I sit quietly...basking in the darkness.The thoughts seem to have a easier pathway with less resistance.To connect the circuits in my head...Staring.Wondering.Sadness.Sympathising.For my inner me..my subconcience in weighing of what should have been.And what could not.Distracted by the thought; across the room...across the darknesa..I see the light.A small slit...a little hope...So I still believe.That on the other side, there is more light to see."What are you doing in the darkness if you have the key?" |
Broken Candles : HopeBroken wisk. Broken wax.Broken light.Broken body.Broken mind.Broken soul.Broken dreams. Broken hope.Broken ambition.Broken being.Broken life.Broken candles, split in two; still able to burn; placed on opposite sides of the room."Two heads are better than one".I see better with broken candles; one in each hand, enough for me to handle. And if I can't, one for my fellow compatriate, hiding in the shadow.Any amount of light is still light; giving you hope in setting a map for your direction at night. Candle give me hope to fight the battle.Candle give me aspiration to switch into a different channel.To find something new in the dark.That little bit of hope. To pull through.That little bit of hope.. |
Blood Lines--Loose razor blades, blood in different shades. Scarlet droplets, dripping on my sheet.I grasp my black pen, swirving through the spaces to the rhythem of the beat. Smudges on the rubber making it slippery.Conception from the begining of the margin to the end, a perfect delivery. Of ink stains with blood drops standing out like circles in the crop.An invavion similar to excessive athritis, the movement can't stop. Alien-ware calligraphy, my so called Pø€tr¥.Between the lines, read between the letters as it is unseen like fairytales to the unborn.Beautiful as rose, but roses do have thorns.My punchlines like landmines, sticking needles with blackness creating art. Pinch of a dart, acupuncture holes in a balloon, I create bleeding hearts. From wrong holes, as I'm jotting down idea's on the paper but the holes on the right.Should be on the left...creating more illusion the more I wri... |
Breaking bonds...setting myself free (August 2013 Contest Entry)Are you prepared to take a chance? To take a card across those of community chest but not in monopoly, but for the cavity in your chest. To look the enemy in the eye without fear knowing you have lasers pointed to yourbulletproof vest..or your head.. Can you take a chance?To make the haters..and even some "friends" taste the real meaning on the word Envy.. Like fliping a coin this could result to proximaties leading to the cemetery.. Or simple victory..I'm ready to take that chance!So I may get out of my comfort-zone, with the possibility of being alone but with God on my side I can never be alone. I'm breaking free.From the shackels and bonds holding me down, because the more you walk with God, the harder it is to scrap your knee.I have the key to my success.Rain or sunshine I will always be at my best.I'm free. |