Category: new poetry

Read Poem: ANIMA VESTRA, by Venus James

Spoke to a Baphomet
Down by the willow
He was watching the moon bathe in that same river
That dissolved everything in its way

He whispered:’ This is your version of Aegri somnia’

I tell him that this is not a bad dream and that
I really am shattered in thousands of pieces
And that
I came to lay my burden down

So, he offers a rope and I suddenly see a brighter season

He plays me dirty, one for the shepherd none for the sheep

I asked for my own Beatrice back

she burns in a pit
9th circle – still have her knife in my back
And only then he tells me the rules-the waiting game begins only when the lights go out

But
I
Can’t
See
In
The
Dark

Game over.

Read Poem: The Decision ft. Caesar D. &RAE B. , by Laye Da Writer

As I sit by the window….

gun in my hand wanting to go to the promise land

Father Time told me my time was up and he grabbed my hand

Waiting for a nigga to jump aiming straight for a gland

this is how i do it

One bullet two bullet as I loaded the clip

thats when realization hits

Would I soar through pearly gates or touch the ashes of hell

This thing I thought was a gun clearly just a figment

I didn’t wanna stain the carpet with my red pigment

Now a body lays with no life but no bang

its crazy because i can still feel the life pumping through my veins

You would’ve thought we were conjoined as pain we shared

if this is it what did i contribute to this world besides the fame

Why would the world spit this event into my peripheral

My glutenous appetite devours those who entertain

My insecurities and those who make me forget my pain

Ask the Son of God for more blessings and he gives me rain

I don’t question my actions when I recognize my motives

Gun to my head, waiting for the perfect moment

As you can see my vision wasn’t false

My imagination caused me to go off impulse

Forced to be confined to a place of darkness

Who can I blame for all this madness you ask

That question and answer involve a deadly task

But do you dare go deeper

Look at the body and reach in its pocket

There you will find out my secrets and such

I pass lives on the daily

Maybe I push my faith

Insecurities challenge me

Maybe my hope’s too late

I start running down the street

The reason I’m losing weight

But the demons catch up to me

Suicide thoughts in my brain

Fuck it I took one life why not take my own

Who gonna miss me when I’m gone

I should go ahead and wrap this up

No more plus I won’t last Jail

It’ll be easier to survive in the place they call hell

I let the bullet rip and destroy the memories I made

Red pigment on the floor, sorry for the clean up maid

The moment the trigger pulled my feet had touched the floor

Ashes of bones and fire, hell is where I am home

The demons run scared knowing that I arrived

Cus I wasn’t scared to take my own after taking another life

Read Poem: TRIPWIRE, by VEDIKA GARODIA

You want a voice,
Like your shoelace,
Filtered as it passes
Through your loops.
You want to twist it,
Stretch it,
Pull it,
As hard as you can,
And tie it tightly
So that it never breathes.
But honey,
Let me tell you,
Mine is a tripwire
And if you so much as touch it
It will cause an explosion!

– VEDIKA GARODIA

Read Poem: BOOTS, by Stephon Void

How can we pull ourselves by our own bootstraps if we don’t have a pair of boots?
We spent our time trying to make the boots, while one group has them custom made for them.
We raise the cattle, tan the hide, mold the rubber, and shape the wood.
We make the patterns, create the thread.
We craft the perfect pair and shine them up real nice.
When we finally get to try our boots on, you change the rules and take them back. That’s why we march.
That’s why we protest.
That’s why we’re angry.
We want to tie our own boots.
We want to wear them proudly.
We want to contribute to society equally.
We want to run the race and try hard without stumbling blocks and obstacles.
Stop withholding resources and telling us to try harder.
Stop playing games with us.
Give us our boots.