New poems( 2 minute ones, the kind that you just think of reeeaaalll quick.)

Ghetto Gossip

sitting out at 6am

still carrying on at 9pm

in 100 degree weather

don't matter

old men and women

who should be setting

a fine example for we

young men and women

instead they gozzsip

everytime you or i

walk past they got something

negative to say about you or I

whether they know us or not

i guess that is the ghetto mentality

of knowing yourbusiness or mine

i thought when the gossip queen

moved away last month and from

the window

it would stop, but to no avail

They got news, liquer and booze in their

hand, playin cards and talkin nonsense.

I just hold my head up high walkin by

for they don' t know what they are talkin bout

when they say i "strut"

no, i don't have the "ghetto strut" of what

they all call the "projects"

i call it pier three, baby and yes

level three, the third floor and

i have the strut of a poet, a photographer

an artist, a woman not stooping down to their

nonsense and fake charm.

don't need the crack, the gangs

don't need the sense of belonging

don't need the booze and the

cruise in his car.......

after i am gone, i will leave a

great mark for all of them to say:

@#$$$$$$$$78*^%^^^@@!#+*&^%$!!

diamond@20006
all rights reserved by author



Wake Up CAll

Alright Homeboy

You need a wake up call

The kind that Judge Hatchett gives

Those young ones who have gone astray

She takes them away

They come back changed

My son you done gone astray

Yeah, I look at you but I have nothing to say

You know more than I do right now or

So you think so but what you need is a

Wake up call

The kind that you hear slamming doors

Or a handcuff with hands behind your back

Cause you think nothing is going to happen to YOU

Like you are magical or extinct. NOT YOU!

As long as you keep doing what you are

YOU will experience the school of hard knocks

Take your self to the countryside and save yourself

Before you hurt yourself or get hurt

So what if you are almost nineteen?

You need a wake-up call.

Heed the warning my child. Heed the warning.

diamond@2006
all rights reserved



Bullets Fly


Two fifteen year olds

Playing with a loaded rifle

Hispanic fifteen year old

Accidently shot away

The bullet flew

It's bad enough that we have

These gang-related ones

These babes are too young

They should be reading and

writing poetry even in summer

But playing with guns, it's a real

Tragedy and not fun

This teen was somebody's child.

Could have been yours or mine.

This is deep, real deep

We are losing our young ones

Once a month right near my hood

fifteen to twenty-one years of age

affects my sleep cause i know

that bullets fly and they can

strike you or I if we are walking

by.

affects my sleep cause I know that

Homeboy one day can die being

somewhere he should not be cause

he did not listen to me.

Bullets are nothing to play with

For they do fly in an unknown

Direction and they carry no name.

diamond@2006
all rights reserved