White America-Me...
I often feel like a black spot on new white sheets.
This is white America-me.
They say my music is not music but more a call to violence.
White America-me.
They tell me my people are free if this true why do the prisons look like an old southern plantation. White America-me.
Most of the schools where my people go are shut down. They say it's because of low test scores. I believe it's because they really want to keep us dumb. White America-me.
I often feel like a black spot on new white sheets.
White America-me.
poem by Lore Me34
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To Afraid to Speak
There are words that my mouth is too afraid to speak.
I fear if I speak them then all that I know will be destroyed.
But then again I am also afraid if I don’t speak them I will never grow.
And without growth all I hold dear could fade away.
What should I do?
Should I live in fear and never speak the words?
Or should I take a chance and speak them in hope of growth instead of destruction?
I don’t know.
Who would believe a man as brave as I am would be afraid to speak three little words…?
“I Love You”
poem by Lore Me34
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RE: Excuse Me Sir, Is This Where Heaven Is
Madam, and Sir did I hear your question correctly.
Did you ask me is this where heaven is?
Yes sir we did they replied.
The man looked at his book of prayers and then he said;
By you asking the question you it shows that you are not ready yet.
So I must ask you to climb down the ladder and watch your step.
But we've travel so far to get here and you are turning us away.
Yes I am sorry to say.
Can you tell us why we are curious?
Because if you all were ready you would not have to ask
Is this where heaven is?
poem by Lore Me34
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One Cold Night In September
One cold night in September on a field of dreams a man in the twilight of his playing years took one mighty swing, and as the ball got hurled higher and higher on a cool breeze the cheers elevated throughout air. 'You can put it on the board, yes' the radio announcer exclaimed. Now thirty minutes later a man dove into sky and as his body hit the ground his glove rose up and in it a baseball laid and the Chicago White Sox with a 1 to zero victory post season dream began and this all happened on one cold night in September.
poem by Lore Me34
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A Poem Does Not Have to Rhyme
There are those who think in order for a poem to have rhythm it must rhyme, but a poem does not have to rhyme to have rhythm.
The rhythm comes for the poet’s soul not the rhyming of words.
The rhythm is in emotions that the poet’s poem evokes.
From a soulful cry to feeling of love and from the passion of hate to the awakening of understanding this is the beat, the rhythm of a poem. Now don’t get me wrong if a poem rhyme and has soul it is cool too, but I just wanted everyone to know that a poem does not have to rhyme.
poem by Lore Me34
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The Nectar Of Eve
As I sit beneath the apple tree
and watch the waterfall.
My mind thinks of Eve.
I can still taste her sweet nectar
on the tip of my tongue.
I can still feel the sensations
of Eve’s hips as I licked.
Now as nectar start to fall
like a waterfall down my
throat. I thought I would drown
from her ecstasy. But Eve pause
to let me catch my breath, and then
once again my tongue swam in Eve’s
nectar until her passion put us both
to sleep. That was about 3 months
ago. Eve has now moved on, and all
I’m left with is the memories.
poem by Lore Me34
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Today, I Met my Father
I have been waiting over twenty years for this day, and now it is finally here. I am excited but nervous. I got hundreds of questions to ask him. From do I have any other siblings, has he thought of me and the biggest question of all why did he leave me? My mom used to tell me I looked just like him and I wonder when I see him today will I see my features in him. Well I hear someone coming this way it must be him. Wow, all they gave me was a flag and some dog tags and took me to a white cross. Today I met my father and he was dead.
poem by Lore Me34
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Hope 'Love is
I have searched for the answer to the question what is love?
And I came to find out that love is hope.
The hope of finding someone who will understand you;
The hope that that same someone will not only accept the good in you but also your faults;
The hope that when you are intimate that your passion for one another transcends your souls.
The hope that even after you both are old and grey when you look at each other you still see beauty.
These are the things we all look for when we search for love.
So love is no more than hope.
poem by Lore Me34
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When we were Kids
Remember how we were best friends when we were kids?
We slept over each others’ house, we were two pea in a pod when were kids.
You were my brother and I yours when we were kids.
But now that has all changed we don’t go near one another’s house.
And that pea pod has rotten.
Now as for brothers these days were not even distant cousins.
We were once best friends now we treat each other like enemies all because of the color of our skin.
I miss you as a friend and that is why I wish color did not matter like when we were kids.
poem by Lore Me34
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Be Not Ashamed
You still hear the whisper of what people have said.
Their cruel words dance around in your head.
Too black to be cute.
Too poor to wear nice shoes.
Too holy for me you heard those all proclaim.
But you need to be not ashamed.
God made you dark as night;
Because He wanted your faith in Him to shine bright.
And those words that you heard.
Turn them in to good ones by using God's words.
And you don't need new shoes to walk with Lord.
You must say; I am a child of God and beautiful just as I am.
God loves you my child; so be not ashamed.
poem by Lore Me34
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