Coalhouse
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CATEGORY
life
Standing on the corner, at Broad and Lehigh the world in your hand, Escape cooked up and crumbled, inhaled on sale. Standing on the corner, women get down to get high, high like the first time. Police play game wardens, protecting game. Standing on the corner men on missions look for their sanity under street lights, as ribcages show under skin....
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COMMENTS
RonnieL says: Yeah! I was getting into it, wish you was spitting more. Nice |
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Woven says: Great word play, such realism you displayed with your adept pen. |
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veelay@hotmail.com says: picture perfect depiction delving into and out a very real everyday reality ..nicely written |
OTHER POEMS WRITTEN BY Coalhouse
I seen Jesus in Harlem (Joy to the World)What! I seen Jesus in Harlem Yes! The Son of the Father Walkin down 125th and Saint Nic Floating on Desperate prayers and soul claps The Son of Man Had rust colored dreads And a triple black leather trenchcoat Performing major miracles Turning water into pinot grigio Inside a feast for the forgotten Made a blind man see the error in his ways Uptown Jesus versus Downtown Judas A night light living in dark rooms Calling down evil upon The proverty pimps Political simps And cash cows slaughterd for the few Blessing the Damned The Doomed The Defeated Jesus died in the book He was resurrected in Harlem Down the street from hoodlums A prophet of rubble and renewal A king dwells with the incarcerated A king dwells w...  |
Not a poemI just want to thank all the poets for their insight and inspiration. I feel humbled every time I read the words on this platform. I just wanted to say this without being artful and from the heart peace love and health to all my fellow poets. Your man in street Coalhouse |
Oh SnapOh Snap When yo stomach touch yo backbone Oh SNAP Supplimental Nutrional Assistance Program Oh SNAP Swipe a full course meal A government deal Dealt to pacify Dirty faces A dollar short of the American scheme Swipe apple pie promises Swipe breakfast lunch and dinner Oh SNAP Progress taste like chicken Boiled baked or fried Drastic times placed on plastic and pin numbers American Hunger Oh SNAP... |
Skin DivingHold your breath and slip beneath the surface Dive facing the abyss Making ripples in still waters Skin diving into midnight blue melancholy memories Remember when skin was in the game To take some you have to bring some Playa rules Mischeivous mullatos swim slowly past Indigenous Indigos Slipping each other skin On the black hand side Morse code to those treading dread in open water Dark hearts Drowning slow In a sink or swim world Weighed down by crimes and misdemeanors Skin Divers roll their hips and move with the current Skin diving How deep do you wanna go on one breath.....
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A bad little boyRight now I have to write this poem now Right now I have to say this to the universe I have to write this before I go into the box I have to write this before I go into the ground I was touched A little boy touched Innocence is just a word when you get touched When you know the end of the story Its the carnal whispers that visit me sometimes Lick it Suck it Kiss it I was a good little boy Obedient Eager to please behind closed doors The smell of moist moaning and hushed orgasms Visit me sometimes A little boy confused A little boy used A little boy with a secret Hiding in plain sight Living inside my head Making deals with demons She told me not to tell Silent sinner Behind closed doors I did what I was told<... |
DreamsThese dreams lie in state A coffin A casket Restrained Burgundy velvet One man funeral for abstract musing 35 millimeter optical collusion Between the here and now And the then and yesterday My dreams are dammed Infected with moments molested by Nooses and knives gasoline neckties My dreams strung up My dreams under solitary cofinement Dreams shackled to bloodbourne riots Jailbreaks at daybreak inmates running for the wall My dreams reject inward smiles and outward gestures Dreams with with flesh and blood bogeymen Killers who assassinate character Tell me where dreams go to die Tell me where dreams go to die Dreams die when nightmares are born.... |
Cynthia Paulette LewisA message to mommy |
Cynthia Paulette LewisA message to mommy |
Cynthia Paulette LewisA message to mommy |
Cynthia Paulette LewisA message to mommy |
