His light shined brightly

It was so bright that the only ones that could endure it was the ones that loved him and God himself

He was a king

From past to present

Love and pain

Excitement and despair it all rushed in

Not a care in...

Some things are better off unsaid

It always seems like the right time but the wrong moment to say things

Like this

Saying I love you seems so cliché

So, I just choose not to say it at all

Yet once again…here we are

Giving into te...

I’m sitting here on this bed wishing that I was all that you see

You’re telling me that you love me, but your actions aren’t saying the same

Tell me…does love still reside under this celling?

If I could make one wish it would be for you t...

how do we live?
being a middle class person
Living with little money
We don't care for money
As long as we have health
We will be okey
Yes people we know a lot of
Greedy people out there
Who would not give any money
To the church
Also th...

Kemymalia (K.)™ Pictures in association with Another K Production, LLC presents
Love American Style Series: Once Bitten Twice Fallen, a cinematic teaser crafted under the thematic pillar of DESIRES.

This episode explores the tension, hunger, a...

One Nation Under God, and the Pursuit of Happiness has been lost in this world we call society.

The world is slowly cruising to hell. Sinner’s flip of a coin landing on tails, fire pit one could only tell.

The Meek, paradise they shall seek. T...

(Poem Dedicated to Once Bitten Twice Fallen Novel)

ValenEmotionally Serenading Nay'Nina

Hypnotic, fiery, illuminating eyes

Silently prowling the mountaintops, the inclined hillsides

You called out to me, I came unto you

Tonight, I submit my...

I’m in love with a handsome vampire
Loving the fangs of his throbbing desire
He steals my emotions nightly, after suckling my emotions out of me so rightly, while he’s holding me so tightly
Sunlight comes, I’m only a primitive illusion of...

On bended knee,
Hands clasped together,
Nestled close to the chest,
Heart's rhythm felt,
Head bowed,
Eyes shut.

The silence,
Weighing a ton.

The heart speaks
To its Creator.
Words circulate
As the mind collects
Conversations
Meant...

We learned prophecy with cracked sidewalks and mama’s frying pan,
prayers folded under nylon grocery bags,
prophecies whispered between porch swings and the back of the bus.
The street named us: loud and leaning, nicknames stitched into denim,
our l...

We become
collectors,
archiving moments.

Experiences shared
become memories
to be recalled.
They become stories told.

Some become
tales of caution;
others become
badges we collect
of days long passed,
of youth long spent.

We col...

This body
is a library
of moments lived,
of time’s passage,
like tree rings.

It collects seasons.
It holds scars
from moments
where life was easy to carry,
of childhood shenanigans
which seem a lifetime ago.

Every morning just gotta have

a couple of cups of Joe

My morning boost my on the go

bring u back from that sleep zone

Being my name is Joe just wakes me

up puts me on go

All came from Uncle Sam 19 yrs old

basic training up at ...

May my lips
never part to say goodbye.

This heart would weep
forty days and forty nights
as your steps
inch further and further.

That sorrow
would plague my dreams,
for my mind
would replay your steps
as you walk further,
and furthe...

Portions of time

Have been allotted to us

To carve out

pieces of history

Leaving footprints

As markers of our existence

The rain recedes.
Black clouds perform
a disappearing act.
Blue skies return.

For every storm
covers beauty
behind turmoil,
the sun beams.
It cues for life
to leave its shelter.

A rainbow bows,
a signal that this storm
has run its ...

We bear scars
From wounds
Inflicted,
But which remain
Unseen,
Yet shaping
Every step,
Every interaction.

We bear scars
That lay dormant,
Becoming infections,
Whose healing
Becomes a herculean task.

We bear scars.
We walk
With ga...

We learn to pray with our knees dirty, palms pressed
against the concrete that remembers names,
that remembers the time the milkman skipped a house
and the time the preacher called my uncle brave.
On the corner where the light blinks like an old frien...

We learn the language of concrete — the grammar of cracks,
how mama's heels leave arguments in the hallway,
how the corner store clock eats the afternoon and spits out change.
Sirens are prayers with loud mouths,
and every bus stop is a pulpit where...