We sat and we considered~~ a Jamie Bond and ‘just bill’ joint

We sat and we considered

( bill)

we sat and we considered
what should we write about
Jamie and i

you see, we are not only Poets
but people
attempting to build steeples
where we may ring the bell
and awaken your understanding

it is not that we are demanding
you pay attention
that is your choice
and this is our voice
that we use
to speak about
our own fears
our own loves
our own concerns
our own doubts

sometimes we are quiet
some times we incite spiritual riots
moving souls
moving minds
to find their own way
to say what they have to say

and sometime we shout about
things we think others should perhaps consider

so what up Jamie
what do you have to say today
i think i need to pay attention
and let you speak on it
and mention
what’s on your mind

(Jamie)

Bill and I
We talk all the time
Our candid Conversations
Become freestyle sessions
About the bullshit and nonsense
We’re getting fat eating popcorn
While sitting on the sideline
Waiting with bated breath
For them to say something moving
But we’re still here unmoved

Like I dunno
We SEE your mouth moving
But where are you going?
EXACTLY!!!

Verbally we are architects
Drawing 3D plans and creating blueprints
We tune up thought processes
And fix flats like we’re in a race yard
We are ink chemists giving formulas for success
But you all refuse to drink it
Acting like it’s a Jekyll and Hyde lab or some shit!

And yet they seem bored….
Bill and I; we shake our heads
To how easily you forget
To pay homage to the Elders
To get in the lab and learn your craft
Not saying you need to be an expert
But take time to understand it

Regretfully forgetting
We are Poetry’s’ Poets and Poetess’

The super novastructura
To the construction of your structure
Arms outstretched like a parasol to protect you
We’ve used paper as a barricade to an ink levy
With our ink pens we’ve dug tunnels and built bridges
Iron sharpens iron which compliments our sinew
And what did or are you doing??
EXACTLY!!!!

(bill)

but in truth Jamie
i am encouraged by the younguns
the young guns
who load their weapons
of mass destruction
to shoot that shit
spyt that shyt
and
write that shit they do
cause when i and you
were them there young guns
we had no support
there was no community

and now these young ports
have an immunity
from impunity
to speak
as they feel
but some time
for real
i must question
what that is

i know it is none of my biz-ness
but some of that mess we be writing
has me fighting
to understand
just where we are going
as we claim that we are flowing
doing our poet thing

so my way of encouraging
is some times to click a “like”
not to psyche any one out
that i have read them
cause time is not a luxury i enjoy
to read all the tags they deploy
to get our attention

not to mention
that i do have a job
that is not about swabbing a poets knob
about how great they are
cause if they do not know who they are
or how far
they what to go with it
shit
what can i tell them

(Jamie)

Oh yes I agree
We all need the variety of genres
In every facet of poetry we speak
But the concern is the lack of purpose
When they rhyme the thumbs up
And empty likes because of the limelight

We deal with
Attention whores and like addicts
Those who need counseling
Make it seem like they missed a session of therapy
I’m just saying ….Now that’s real talk poet

They knew it was hot when they posted it
Putting it out there to be read is called self publishing
And who am I to critique; to scrutinize or criticize
I am not the winner of the poetic noble peace prize

The main thing is to bleed the ink
Let the thoughts flow allow the concept to flow
And then go back …After a day or so
And then re read it …Re~ bleed the ink….

Condense it if possible
I ain’t worried about the poets
I just wonder where they’re going...

(bill)

you know Jamie
most times when i read
i do not know
about the flow
and where it is going
nor what is the message
some poets are sowing
so all i can do
is not to construe
that i know anything
and simply say this
“it is what it is”
and that is their biz
not mine
i have my own divine mind
to deal with
so i just smdh

(Jamie)

Me Too
that’s where they do that at . . .



a Jamie Bond and ‘just bill’ joint

 

 

 

 

 

trilogy...

trilogy...

by Todd Smith on Friday, July 20, 2012 at 1:27pm ·

  triumphant tri-laboration  triumvirate trilogy...

     thelyfepoet
    acquired...

    for saving me everyday i thank GOD
    from the times i followed my lil head when it got hard
    could have been on my way to be buried 6 feet under sod
    pushing daisies
    out of wedlock babies
    in wedlock, out wedlock
    we locking
    sea men flying
    people dying
    you know you sick
    tricky dick still in conversation with honey pit
    you a businessman or deacon
    scoping her out
    her promise land you seekin
    never tellin her you lethally leakin
    your lil man is reekin
    packin deleterious juice
    enuff to kill a herd of moose
    cover it up
    better yet, unscrew it
    plug it up your own contaminated butt
    already knowing you have the disease
    stick it in your own mouth
    instead of eating when on your knees
    ladies your feminine body is admired
    get test results to avoid what he
    may have acquired
    once acquired
    it's in your blood stream
    meat 2 meat
    you gave into those
    cheap sweet words
    when he made a
    bootylicious speech
    hormone driven
    no love given
    you pray to be forgiven
    forgiven you can
    if only you would have taken a stand
    and demand
    to see the most recent test result
    who cares how he feels
    if you ask & he becomes insulted
    better to insult by asking deep
    probing penetrating questions of him
    than for him to deeply
    probe, penetrate and permanently
    infect your french cut bikini trim
    in the johnson there is no magic
    especially when debauchery
    is injected to making intimacy tragic


    June Bugg
    patience...

    In order to learn patience one must be prodded,
    MayB acknowledged by fathers; not only baby mommas
    Growing up stuck, where it seems er'ythangz corrupt, meditate on these things, and then wait on love
    Bind these things to you
    Choose right & B blessed; Three left turns leaves you right back inside the same mess,
    stressed out 'bout some lil poot butt's child support checks
    Remember always; your gift iz beauty manifest
    A gift from GOD for the woman to possess
    It cant B found in cosmo> Xploitation at it's best
    It's in your eyes and your chest,
    U where lovely from the very first time
    you suckled mommas breast
    Life iz NOT a box a chocalates, more like a game of chess
    Wait on your King & build a castle; for you're a QUEEN, and
    U deserve the best...

   .
     ~~ IBJB
    Re-introduce. ..

    If you do this backwards, it is bound to get worse
    You have to Re-introduce your true self to yourself first
    Only then can you allow love into your life
    And consent to someone extra loving you right
    You have to be patient and believe that GOD needs you to wait
    Believe in the core of your soul
    that your king or queen is being custom made

    Define your desires
    Stay blessed and be inspired
    And if that person in your life doesn’t make your eyes smile
    Then it's time to go…
    Time to let them move on and be gone
    Mr. and Mrs. Put up with Until Mrs. and Mr. Right come along
    Ask questions wait to get an intelligent answer
    Don’t make excuses for a grown man or woman
    Don’t fall in love with someone’s potential
    You need to know what they stand for right here and now
    You need to understand your own forbearance,
    as they get nearer
    Cuz real talk chaos isn’t a good look on anybody
    in a full length mirror


   get acquired knowledge,
   prior to in the sheets acknowledging...
   take your time, be patient with yourself...
   b4 you introduce yourself to some1
   else, 1st  reintroduce yourself to yourself...

  thank you for your time from,
  thelyfepoet...june bugg....ibjb

Can’t get that LAST breath back...

Can’t get that LAST breath back...

                                     Can’t get that LAST breath back...

             ((a hexagon collaboration...six pieces...six views...six sides making one))

   ((participating poets thelyfepoet/rose petals/june bugg/albert carrasco/jamie bond/tyrone mobley))

 

we strive to breath just one last time

got more holes in us than a pin cushion

has pins

collapsed lungs

won't hold any air no more

limp bodies no longer can keep the score

when we went out to score

made some rival pretty sore

he showed us his ak-47

63 times

our combined ages are

somewhere between

47 and 63

closer to 47

when our last breath

was taken from you and me

shattered windows broken forever

as spirits ascend

from me and my friend

they plea to return

back again

so we can have one more night

miscalculated plans that didn't turn out right

we in the spotlight

under the street lights

that shine bright

bathing in our own blood

never to be

never to see

another day

the rising of the sun

and

the going down of the same

too late to get that last breath back...

((thelyfepoet 7.28.2012))

WHAT HAS HAPPEN

MY HEAD FEELS AS IF

I'VE BEEN HIT BY A LIGHTENING

BOLT..

BLOOD IS SQUIRTING FROM MY BODY

IS THIS REAL

OMG !!

BABY WAKE UP !

BABY WAKE UP !

WHY IS MY CHILD

SO COLD ?

HER BODY SO LIMP

I CAN NOW SEE THE WOUNDS

I'M YELLING

WE BEEN SHOT !

WE BEEN SHOT !

MY VOICE IS GETTING WEAKER

OUR AIR ABOUT GONE

NO TIME TO SPARE

NO TIME TO HATE

THE PERSON THAT

DID THIS TO US

TRYING TO HOLD ON

BUT THIS PAIN IS

TOO HARD TO FIGHT

HOLDING MY BABY

IN MY BLOODY ARMS

HER LITTLE CHEST

NO LONGER

GOING UP

OR DOWN

TEARS FALLING

FROM MY WEAK EYES

MY BREATHING IS GETTING

WORSE

MY CHEST IS ABOUT TO

CAVE IN

I USED WHAT BREATH I STILL HAVE

TO TELL MY BABY

MOMMA LOVE YOU..

NOW WE BOTH

WILL SLEEP

IN

P

E

A

C

E..

((ROSE PETALS 7/28/2012))

I got 17 in the 9INE & packs another two clips

just bucking at these busters watching them sink like battleships

You see...

The wreckage aint shyt but another fuggin service

Negroes standing all around at the funeral, and them families just nervice

BEE cuz they dont really know where the next shell gon' fall

Gotta bury they baby brother and now the Lord gon' call

It aint never no love for what the next negro gott

The clock just tics, then tocs on these inner city blocks

It seemed one minute my body wuz standing tall and now everythang stops

Never cared much for nothing, my momma told me it wuz comming

a poster child for bluffing, and

at the parlor they gott me all filled up with this liquid like stuffing,

See...

Once upon a time not very long ago I had a spirit and a soul

I took my life for granted though, and I slept on my breath

To breathe iz to live so now i'm welcomed by Death...

If maybe I could take it all back and just respect myself

Just live my life thru the turmoil and stress

Im wondering what's next, but I think I know

No longer breathe in my lungs or life in my soul,

To breath iz to live, but that wuz never enough though...

It's to late now so...

Maybe my death will bring clarity to another individual

The only residual in the game is this pine box; complete with a eulogy note

((JUNE BUGG 07.28.2012))

I know this scene very well,

For the almighty dollar I got 5 bullets holes,

A slug by my lung,

For nickel and dime sales.

I'm so thankful to be alive.

It wasn't the same for my brothers that promised to ride or die,

After the commotion, the gunshots, those riders or no longer alive.

I've held up blood choking sons,

Listened to their last wishes before I closed their eyes,

They were breathless!

Welcome to the slums.

Hammers meet shells. Shells fly, slugs make ballistics,

Ballistics give work for forensics to search for a perp,

The person that lays forever in the dirt because of the perp,

becomes a ghetto statistic.

I've witnessed slumped over corpses,

that went through rigormortus in nycha stair cases.

The same place most of us caught 220 cases,

For being unlicensed pharmacist.

Drug capers for green paper led us to green pastures.

Rest in peace to the deceased.

((Albert Carrasco aka Infinite the poet 07.28.2012))

The Last Breath
Snatched from a chest
Like a humidifier in a cigar room
The first scream of shocked pleas
Fall upon shattered glass in a drive by
Bullets tear tears from the eyes that can’t hear
Refuse to loose to fear
Saying farewell ~Sending unfair wells
As its propels holes thru the atmosphere
Creating apertures in craniums and heart valves
Buckled in for safety
Slumped over like a thirsty rose
Hit executed by armature pros

The Last Breadth
The one you can't ever get back
Sucked out of a vacuum sealed casket and vault
With a quivering lip and closed eyes
Of a barely audible sigh
The salted seed of a trail of tears;
Descends deeper than a 6 foot memory
Banners and Make Shift Murals,
Cards, Candles and Street Team Salutations
The heart ache of one violent death of a family member
Is another heart wrenching burial for the entire nation…

((~~ Jamie Bond ~~ 07.28.2012))

To run everything in the streets

Was the game plan,

Little did they expect,

Sitting in that car,

Thirty seconds from now,

An AK-47 would fill them

Full of holes,

Dreams grandeur all gone.

All that was left,

Was for them

To take their last breaths,

Say hello to death,

No thoughts of pain,

All that was worth anything,

Was their thoughts of regrets.

You see,

In life, many times,

It’s about what you

Put in,

Is what you get,

Karma has a

Very long memory,

It,

Never forgets

To collect its debts!

Now wishing for death,

But not just yet,

For suffering is

A requisite of the streets!

Judgment must be held

Before your maker

You meet,

So its off to sleep,

May they,

Rest in PEACE!

((Tyrone Mobley 07.28.2012))

 https://www.facebook.com/notes/todd-smith/cant-get-that-last-breath-back/10151142784546667