Submissions by Garsaun (GarsaunPresario)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Greetings to all. You are more than welcome to view my thoughts of the world. Please Enjoy.
What are "You" searching 4?
Me,
I'm not! Stop looking 4 something that isn't there.
Men & Women, love doesn't care; if it did, maybe just
maybe...
the lies wouldn't hurt!
The eyes,
wouldn't smirk!
The heart wouldn't break!
Love,
wouldn't ache...couldn't be fake; but real, as real as
an orgasm.
Why bother?
People only settle after being neglected,
rejected and cast aside.
Broken inside.
In time, will deep wounds truly heal?
Love can kill.
Love can destroy.
It can also bring happiness and joy. If you let it.
...
I'm not! Stop looking 4 something that isn't there.
Men & Women, love doesn't care; if it did, maybe just
maybe...
the lies wouldn't hurt!
The eyes,
wouldn't smirk!
The heart wouldn't break!
Love,
wouldn't ache...couldn't be fake; but real, as real as
an orgasm.
Why bother?
People only settle after being neglected,
rejected and cast aside.
Broken inside.
In time, will deep wounds truly heal?
Love can kill.
Love can destroy.
It can also bring happiness and joy. If you let it.
...
815 reads
1 Comment
In Times of Despair
I look to thee; seeking comfort.
Only finding empty bottles of companionship with love scattered about; eagerly smelling the scent of confusion and chaos that lingers around.
Festering,
refusing to repent.
Instead,
rather make sense of futile thoughts.
These relentless questions need immediate responses, answers.
Therefore poking, probing, into the emotions of those close; causing anguish.
Conversations become painful outrages, rants of sorts, justified by 40 proof prescriptions.
Alone, joy is imminent.
...
Only finding empty bottles of companionship with love scattered about; eagerly smelling the scent of confusion and chaos that lingers around.
Festering,
refusing to repent.
Instead,
rather make sense of futile thoughts.
These relentless questions need immediate responses, answers.
Therefore poking, probing, into the emotions of those close; causing anguish.
Conversations become painful outrages, rants of sorts, justified by 40 proof prescriptions.
Alone, joy is imminent.
...
698 reads
0 Comments
Words of Encouragement
Try not to stress the small things, but keep your mind focused on the bigger picture. People looked at Jesus two-faced, spit on him, beat him, used him, lied on him, betrayed him, then killed him for healing the sick, feeding the hungry, and more importantly telling the truth about real salvation, the kingdom of God, and being the Son of the Almighty. They called him a "hypocrite" "blasphemer" and many other negative things imaginable in the minds of the wicked. The point I'm making here is simple: once you are able to visualize the inner workings of world and it's design...
720 reads
2 Comments
Native Decent, African Tied
Ancestral tree, born in me, still, realer than the average M.C. Murder she wrote. I pray we don't get into that. I said, "your honor, you don't live with blacks." Acid leaking from her veins. Now we all tatted, branded thoughts, future shattered, amongst racist stares, daddy was there. Nightmares, shackled and chained, mentally slaved, passion for the game, over cast rain. Tell my kids, nobody cares, cotton picking minds, got us seeking false dreams, superficial wives. Threats are a promise, love is truly pain, the industry is garbage, encoded our culture with shame. Confederate...
752 reads
0 Comments
Memoirs of Injustice
I been stripped of everything, like that famous guy in the Bible. Black is my favorite color, thought I should warn all my rivals. Lies were truly witnessed, while the truth was hidden from eye view. The finalized decision, I had no one 2 cry 2, LORD! Can you hear me? Will these wounds become the death of me? How can I forgive them, when anger is all that's left of me? Trying 2 hold on, I'm taking shots at my being, survival's just not enough, cause' now I'm barely breathing. Being consumed by the world, and yes, I'm referencing demons; the only way I can shake them, is if I call on Black...
675 reads
0 Comments
Foggy Bottom
Rage, rage, rage, that's what I feel as a Black man. This is not your struggle, this is mine. Dissecting these lines; fine, make sense of what? History is written in a similar fashion to the dictatorship of Tut. Everything we know about this life could be junk; fake, fictitious, false and fraudulent. What ever you want to call it. The Bible says, Gods time is not like our time. So who created calenders and clocks, complete with all the fancy rhetoric for us to abide by, as truth? To the youth. Ever question the past? Our past, being compiled then compressed into the shortest and coldest...
1059 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Garsaun (GarsaunPresario)