The corner preaches at midnight — neon pulpit,
porch light baptism for hands that never stopped working.
Mama hums a hymn to the fridge light,
stirring pot-talk into the night like molasses,
slow and sweet, thick with prayers she never taught in sch...

Under the silk tide in moonlit haze

I whisper your name where comets blaze

My soul reborn in sanctified dreams

Our spirit finds refuge deep within cosmic seams

Celestial flame begins to rise

Gaia breathes through ancient skies

Th...

To heal continental nations
Could never bring back the horrific sorrows unto my skin with monetary reparations
Shall my mind turn away from the greed of man
Who dipped their shovels within our sacred land

Paid us no wages for labor to dig fo...

Do not be concerned about other people's possessions

Be grateful for things that you have for there are hundreds of thousands that would love to have your Blessings

TEEDUB815

Are you amused???

Do I bring you joy???

Do I entertain, or

intrigued you???

A SPECTACLE

YOU'LL ENJOY,

You wanna see

a show???

I light up the night

so watch me glow!!!

I AM THE BOMB,

so look out below,

I keep you guessing

so you'll nev...

Come,

and don’t hold your breath—

let your words flow fluidly.

Hmm, a wet plurality—

Come again,

and merge with me,

a togetherness neither one

of us in this life has achieved.

—JG ©2026

I learned to pray under streetlights,
grandma's curtains flapping like slow hands,
the city humming gospel between the cracks.
There was a time I thought poetry belonged
only to church pulpits and slow Sunday voices —
then the corner taught me cadenc...

Have a Happy safe Labor Day

A lil Earth Wind And Fire this Labor Holiday

Thats The Way Of The World name of the song

The world sets aside a path for any man that knows exactly were he is going.

TEEDUB815

See the Dream

Chase the Dream

Obess the Dream

Be the Dream

TEEDUB815

If you have been giving the opportunity to wake up and see another day, you still have time to change whatever it is that's holding you back and in your way

TEEDUB815

I learned to pray with my back against a brick wall,
knees in the gutter where the light forgot to shine.
Mama hummed hymns beneath the buzz of streetlamps,
her voice a map that always led me home —
even when home was two rooms and a busted heater
an...

Umm, handsome one, my fervent one who plays the heartstrings of my body so softly under the covers
Plummeting within the essence of my silken nature, my handsome Hebrew cosmic lover
Suspending my mind in the throne of undulated ecstasy, solid er...

The melodic elements always harken to thy ears when the universe chimes
It always pours the fastest rings the loudest when blending with the sands of time
My mind is alert yet attentive attuned fortified when at rest
A blessed one not to bow do...

Beloved, may I?

Remove your clothes,

fabric by fabric, revealing what’s

underneath.

For I wish to lay eyes on your Godly

creation in full—

Flaws first, as they are most sacred

to me.

I want to kiss all of your imperfections,

none...

I grew up where the streetlights hum old gospel,
where grandmama's curtains breath the night in slow prayer,
where the corner store knows my name
and the city keeps receipts for every wound.
I learned to walk like I owned a future
they tried to reposse...

Call her Angela

Her government name

Angela Yvonne Davis

Born in Bombingham Alabama

Public enemy number one

The one with the halo afro

The one looking at life without parole

I know you got soul

Fist in the air

Speaking un...

A corresponding voice that

resonates with its own tone;

It’s telling me to come home,

her body waiting in reach.

Collapse all of your distance

on to me.

It whispers past my mind

until the chant is embedded

deep within my aloft,

For ...

We pray under streetlamps that buzz like old radios,
neon halos haloing the hush between two trains.
Mama folds Sunday into Tupperwares, tucks the sermon
in the ribs of fried chicken, and sends it out
to the stoop congregation—us, tired and holy.
Kid...

I learned how to pray with my knees on cracked concrete,
the church bells muffled by the traffic,
mama humming hallelujah into the hush of our hallway.
We wore Sunday like armor —
polished shoes, polished lies,
but the grace was real even when the re...