Conducting a Poetry Workshop in London, England

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"Poetry, Just What It Means To Me"

While I lay short of dying I sit tall in my seat relying on my poetry…
Having scorned much too many in a life where there seems to be some mere sincerity
After the worldly cliché have abandoned my tragic fall into a stream where oceans form
This is the consequence of a notion yet instilled in a thin strip of pen and a flat sheet of paper

I fall into a realm where deep things are said and the sensible is dead so the weak inspires
So I watch out there yonder far into wonder land wondering why is it just what it is

Philosopher and his philosophy sitting quietly bothering nobody
Orchestra plays, music harmonizes, and instruments play to the sound of the ear
Enticed in his manuscript, he watches without touching, he caresses with his words
Tired of pain not without the urge to inspire the vain, he retires to being called insane again
Resuming again to a perfect response, he writes a line of the finest design, simply a line
You wouldn’t understand!

(let's see if you can make out the question using the first letters of most of the sentences. You should be able to make it out by just simply looking hard enough, in a vertical manner at the whole poem, with your eyes concentrating at the begining of each line...what is your answer to the question?)

"What's Love?"

What’s love?
When the eyes meet that thing called fate
Or compassion
Or love
Slow intakes of love
We despair what was designed for the heart
The device we so dearly depart
Love as the intent but it’s so hard
When we say we love
But we really feel the intense of an emotion
So strong so mistaken so wrong
Like a long dried out song
The tune mixed with harmony, what’s love?
Is it truth or its honesty maybe its trust
Or the overwhelming overtakes us
Or love is a written form of letters
Put fine together to form a word that would roll of
Your tongue like a song
Or love is the mind, or somehow
Love is not love but the sense to be loved by some love
What does it mean when you love me
At night when I kissed you goodbye
You just stared, it was sad when we cried
What’s Love?

"Can You Feel the Music?"

Can you feel the music?
The tunes of a melody so free
Hitting the notes like it was harmony on me
On tune with this thing they call love
Love as a word with a feeling so mutual, so one
Not of a time in this system
Not of a chime in its system
It’s a rhythmic mellow
A fellow of a line of sweet
Tunes of a time such as this
I love her like I love music
Switching tunes its so amusing
I love her like I love my music
It hits you with a tune
Soul music
Slow music
Rhythm and blues
It is with you
Love is the truth
As soon as I heard it
My ears were intoned
Left in a gaze of amazement
I left in a daze of amazement
Phased by her face
I left in a phase of arrangement
Her score was as beautiful as my music
She sang tunes so amusing
I love her like I love my music

"Today II"

Today I remember
Snowflakes in December
Leaves were falling in numbers
That was what I saw

Took me back to them ol’ school days
When Smokey Robinson and them Ojs played
Bellefonte was a household name
I was in and I was out

Music defined disaster
Saw this girl but I passed her
Didn’t make a lot of sense
That was then

I saw rivers go by
I could have laughed but then I cried
Today I made noise
Did you listen?

"They Live and They Die"

They live and they die
They scream and they cry

She couldn’t be here for a while

They claim it is what it is

See the sky it doesn’t lie
It’s either day or dark as night

They couldn’t see it for what it is

She waited on your doorstep
She wiped down your sweat
She even laid till you slept
She took your curse and left

Never intended to be missed

They couldn’t even hear it

They let her be your toil
They put her feet into the soil
Trees grew because of her
Never mentioned not at all

She stayed loyal
You call her poor I say she’s royal

Never intended to be in need sir
In case you remember her face indeed
Sour from your rotten deed

Indeed she couldn’t face it how it is

She never tried to let you slip
Who put nasty words across your lips?
Your concubine
She was your hip

But you couldn’t see it for what it is

She’s dead now!

"My Thoughts Scare Me"

My thoughts scare me
It seems the end is closer than I
Feared it would be
I’ve been crying for days now
Sometimes I catch myself staring out into
The night
Amazed at nature’s awe
Gazing at the eyes of the clouds
I once watched the night
But not this way
This time I felt the emotion of the moon
So alone in its own corner
Away from the gallant stars and the charisma
Of the unseen
Tonight I tasted the wind
So smooth against the roughness of my skin
Sometimes it felt like it would just take my
Burden
Drown this enduring pain
I felt warm against the autumn breeze
I touched a whisper as it flew by
Eager to find its hidden secrets
Maybe about some lost soul in search of peace
Like
Tonight I counted the stars
Not enough to complete my hour
But too much for the clouds to handle all on
Its own
My thoughts scare me

"I Reminisce"

I reminisce
Of streams so deep
Like the minds when voices
Whisper as you sleep
Slowly, silent rivers
Running lightly through
The passage of the sea
Reminisce of thoughts
So gracious filled
With delighted memories
Old and ancient
Newly born in past of
Parted centuries
I reminisce of trees
In captive
Waiting to set their branches
Free
Of life eternal as
Death partake
Responsibility
A lover’s dew
I crave them upon
Me
Of hope in turn
To torture misery
Life is blessed with lips to sense in death’s kiss
I reminisce

"I"

I’m lyrically possessed
Oppressed with minds like
The illiterate
I confess
Instigated by divine
Inconsiderate
Decomposes
I composed this event
Of me
Speaking my words to be
Unholy
But still
Yet as I was believed to be
Living, as life in this time was forgiven
The streets man,
Inhaling life from hollows, swallowing strife
Of tomorrow, infidelity caught me between
Dreams of obscene scenes at my discretion
Lady-killers, filling the streets and fornicating
Believing in me, is an animation
Unseen with glances, dances of these
Men were thrown, and in cloned for the other
Mothers still cry for a mission, committing to
These lying intermissions, I rest, caresses of
My reminisce, stolen from my chest, still livingLife is a struggle that I believe in

"Love"

Love
Intense, critical, physical
Sensual, erotical
The awareness
In midst afar from senseless
Thoughts
Thoughtful brings the mind to sleep
Before it even speaks
Political love
Two-timing, one wonders
The other waits to touch
As they come into a soft
Caress
Feels like the walls
Are anything but stressed
I confess, I love, have loved
In love, for love
An awe of great
I doubt that love
Could even wait
But love is taboo
So why?

"Tonight"

Tonight
my last dance with death
as I take a final breath
its been years since
these days were last seen
first of a thousand sins
I believe in life
taken roads worth life itself
I found nothing
taken by fear
led in shackles
reminiscing battles
fought by him and her
wonders from afar
taken from my only hope
this was my escape


tonight
in a last façade
dressed in black masquerades
I was mistaken
held accountable
for living unconditional
taken as the best
yet they will forget
it was supposed to be sacred
just words
lyrics to the heart
this world
unjust from where I depart
willing to set up shop
with millions from
your last teardrop
taken by whispers
blown by wind
blown by wind
unspoken words never win
we just live and die

tonight
am ready to fly
come as one with the sky
relieve me from
these tender ties
stride with mother’s eyes
watching me
as I
taken from a lover’s notion
that this is no emotion
we’ll begin in pain
insane thoughts
immune in vain
even letters say too much

dear sir
to whom it may concern
tonight my secrets burn
I leave my hopes to her
delivered notes to her
but she refused to hear
but she refused to hear
tonight without no fear
sublime into the air
take me where we lovers pair

sincerely yours
to whom it won’t concern
her womb was what I yearned
but never lived to earn
so here I will adjourn
no secrets left to lie
in my last breath I die
tonight

"Each Day Passes"

As I write each day passes
Like night and day
Light masses inside it’s a saying
That life was in my basement
Cooking up plans for me to make it

As I write each day passes
In the past it was like passion
Wishing life without this action
As I write this day passes

As I write with the intention to be massive

They still think I might leave asking
Why things seems to be passing
So fast in this life it’s
So decisive

As I write each day passes
Wondering how it takes its actions
Whether it’s fate or something massive
As I write each day passes
Through lifetimes it’s what’s happening
Seems like it’s moving past me
As I write what seems lasting
As I write this day’s passion
My inside screams while you’re laughing

That ain’t right

"Poetry"

I am so saddened by what’s happening
The days just speed by so fast that I can’t understand it
I use to be this cool laid back calm
Music was what I used to play back in that time
Now feelings just race back hard
Hitting me repeatedly with all my played out rhymes
Why ever was I in so much pain
Subjected by repeated objections that severed my brain
I sat listening at your song
But what I heard was your voice follow behind the back of tomorrow
Sorrow lifting me
I lack self-explanatory stories of my great great great grandmother
One I never knew but knew that one day in a second
Might as well be truth
Since maybe she knew she would one day have a baby with a great great grandbaby
That’s me

But since the world isn’t so perfect but gloom
Like doomsday in East Africa
You probably think these words were never meant to be put together
But since they are
Why not attempt to even try to make sense out of this feeling of endangerment
Entertainment and every tainted move was my invention
My intention to move you with my sensual planet from that atmosphere called
POETRY………….

"Just Give Me a Pen"

I am always inspired to write a line
A paper connected to the pen
While maybe the brain injected with the wine
I am always inspired to retire to the line
And wait for the next conflict
The next inconspicuous time
I am always sitting back listening
While the time is being misinterpreted
Stated as he was being incarcerated
I am always leaning back behind
Waiting for the line to keep moving
While I design
I am always waiting for this time
When I can sit relax with paper and lines
Where I can illustrate a perfect design
Two pages from eight to a quarter to nine
I’ll always be writing till the end of my time
Just give me a pen