Annonymous

sleep is only a step in to a room with no walls
sleep is only a court with every possibility and no ball
fall or no fall sleep is inevitable
sleep is the chemical that makes our food for thought edible
sugar on vegetable
its melts our minds and drips them in to stencils
mold them in to emotions of the mental
it will rejuvenate and recuperate
radiate and illuminate
opaque, pallid, distinctively lavished colors that manage to swallow our dreams
sleep writes the book with closed seams
engraved with utlra violet beams
and every soul that screams as a team
to redeem the malfunction of being awake
to quake the earth with bad decisions and rake the lawn of the good vision
make life incisions with precisions
for everyone to listen...

sleep is to feel .. and it shall be done after a meal...

-peace

The Funeral

The Funeral

I want to cry out my thoughts of you and let hate filled tears be sopped up by soft Kleenex.
I want it so that you are not be able to hurt me by not listening to me.
I want to be un-phased when I feel that you are taking me for a fool.
I want to blow emotions from my nose that harbor love for you.

I want to mourn

I want to mourn the death of us.
Of the physical but never quite got mental lust of us.
Of the playing around in secret, fun of us.
Of my dreams and your enjoyment.

I want to weep.

For those nights that I left you floating on clouds that just proved to be water vapor
and you can't stand on no damn water vapor.

For those days that I planned to hold you
and I put on my best draws
and sprayed my best perfume
and put lotion on my entire body,
including my ankles
because
I wanted to be prepared for any part that you would touch.

For those sweet dreams
and beautiful nightmares
where I would sing your name sweetly my guilty pleasure
but I'm leaving you.

I want to purge.

Purge myself of you
and the feeling that if I lost you I would have pain in my stomach from the emptiness.

Purge myself of you
and the feeling that if I lost you I would have pain in my stomach from the emptiness.

How is it possible for something that can be so beautiful make you act so damn ugly?

To walk past me with faces void of emotion and generic gestures,

who are you?

I shouldn't have believed you when you soup'ed me up, so now I purge.

Now I weep.
Now I mourn.
Now I cry out my thoughts of you.
Salty,
in hopes that you would catch them.


Beka 10

Itis

New sleeps with reminiscent sounds that frighten me.
Alone again with my thoughts as New thinks that He is awake.
I should already have a hobby in times like these.
Old used to tell me to sleep too.
Only tired of being alone I seek the affection of the one who shares quirks now kisses are perks,
He'd rather me than work, but I am still scared.
Scarred by Old and wanting New to rub cocoa butter on it,
gently to make the pain go away.

Tell me I'm not buggin.

Too emotional for casualties,
this just ain't me.
Carpel tunnel forces ending but thoughts are just beginning.

While New had
The Itis

BEKA 09

Queens Bread

Toes cold like hoes on South Road,
Toes froze like the nose on hobos,
winter,
its crazzzzzy,
Rush hour so now I gotta squeeeeeeze through
these peepoole (people)
smellin like stale seafood,
worse in the summertime.
I surf all year round.

Oops I touched the pole.

Purell goes through hell every day,
every 20 minutes,
killing a germ in 15 seconds,
that's not fast enough.

Cuties can't see me, cuz I'm lost in the shuffle of these jokers,
5's,
6's and
crappy hands,
so I gotta bluff like I gotta man.
Still in my surfer stance,
pretending to be occupied so that they think my mind is elsewhere.

Why is it always the dude with the dreads that spots me?
figures we have something in common so continues to try and eye-lock me,

this shit is outray gouse

yo beat that bongo stop playin.

She said it's so cold in the D
well NYC aint much warmer,
searchin for a triple fat goose but its like I can't afford her.
I'm slippin...

now maneuver your way around these wild juveniles
cuz school's out
the animals are free.
Watch them claim streets
they will neglect after senior year,
but fuck that cuz for now they roam.

Give your seat to the elderly cuz they've been standing longer,
about 50 years longer,
so 5 stops won't be all that bad.

Get off.

Go home.

Lay down.

A talk with Faith

Last night I was pillow talkin with a beautifull angel. As the rain hit the window she whispered in my ear. "shhhhhh don't speak. My name is Faith and Love is also my mother I was away the last time you spoke 2 her but we've been watching you and we see that you try and you've been hurt so much that can no longer cry. I'm here to tell you that there's no need for tears because even though love is our mother some people don't find her for years. But your different you understand her your just need someone to explain it 2 and sometimes when it doesn't work the person you blame is you. The fact that you believe in her really all that she ask and if you continue to be patient you will feel your true lovers grasp. While she spoke tears ran down my face and as it filled my ears she kissed my for head smiled then disapeared.. Salahudin. H Nemley

The "Good Fight"

I wear my heart on my sleeve so I have blood on my cuff..wondring the streets so I often get bumped and sometimes my heart gets crushed...year by year I walk the streets getting bumped.. I get battered and bruised the pain comes and goes until I cry black tears wrapped in sadness...but do I wipe them...NO!... I wount hide behind walls built by heartache and sadness..I wear my tears as bages of honor..because I am a General in this war on love and happiness...I will not retreat and I refuse 2 be a casualty...I stand at attention while others wave their white flags...I will stay in this fight I refuse 2 lose and before I give up I will die Fighting this war...... by Salahudin H. Nemley

The Bad side of Love

I've cried empty tears that are filled with negative emotions. In a haze walkin the streets but I feel like I'm coasting. You know like that camara they use in a Spike Lee movie, with my mind elsewhere everything is slow motion the hippies will call the feeling "Grooovy" but wat I'm feeling feels like confusion,anger,pain,sadness, All roled up in a ball of dispare. I feel like I'm drowning and I'm reaching for thin air. Love can be like a warm bath followed by a good book or movie then turn around be like sliding in a puddle of razor blades and alcohol......But the crazy part is I wouldn't trade for the world lol....... Salahudin H. Nemley