Fire and Water written by J.V. Stanley & A.N. Ramey

J.V. Stanley & A.N. Ramey Fire and Water
Two lifelong poets, sisters, and best friends have fused together to bring you a variety of poems designed to melt the heart and inspire the soul. Separated for a time and coming back together stronger than ever they proudly present, "Fire and Water." The poems touch upon the earthly and otherworldly cares, delving into the complexities of the soul through the various trials faced through love, heartache, and everything in between. Join them on their journey through the dark and into the light. Travel with them through the gauntlet of poetic life with its obstacles at every turn. Each challenge they faced, however, paved the way for them to step forward with fierce determination and ever present love. Their poetry is mostly free-verse, but touch upon various forms such as the Kyrielle, Harrishma Rhyme, the Italian Sonnet, Etheree, and Twin Etheree.
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First, and far most.
I'd like to thank you for being you.
For being by my side.
For staying true.

Swag swipers, and shine blockers,
are no match for your loyalty.
You stay loving me, being my queen.
The mere act, exalts me to royalty.

You flow like an aphrodisiac
saliva through my drive.
Placing cursors on links,
making the obvious easy to find.

Cheesy flavors of your smile I yearn.
Mouse overs quicken your departure, and return.

You are sexy gone viral.
Downloaded pleasure,
unwarranted searches,
apprehend your arrival.

Status: textually active, in a textlationship.
I view your post, and lose my grip.

I think about the possibilities of us.
When life rains its doubts.

I think about the possibility amid.
I think about the possibilities without.

I opt for the first.

The one that squeezes my azz,
scratches my back.
Quenches my thirst.

I think about you.
How you became the first breath up out of a dream.
If I may,
if I can,
let me borrow
Barry's words;
you're my first,
you're my last,
my everything.


Dance Is ME

When I dance. the first thing I say is "God accept this praise please"  and for the time that I'm dancing I feel like he's lookin at me the most,.. sinful, dirty, deliberate tired old me, The same me that rushes out the house without prayin, or never really thanks him for the time he spends settin up blessings for me that I have no clue about. So they say when you dance, You get to see who that person is, they bare their heart and weave stories right in front of your eyes, and only those with the gifts God gave can see that and relate,..
So let me weave a similar story, through my words, untamed and very free, just like my dance, not many periods, because when I dance just like these commas I stop only briefly so you can understand me.
When God watches me dance, I know he sees how, I wave,.. the pain moves from one point of my body to another,
sometimes it'll show up in one spot and travel unseen into another part of my body, or when i wave in segments, is as if I can control how much goes where, or as if I've learned to tame it when still its uncontrolled,
When I pop, its as if I'm hardening myself to the daily problems that seek out my weak spots,and seem to hit me where it hurts most, or when I lock, that quick tense moment, show how deep and how grounded I need to be when things happen the impact on my body may even wear it out but that hardening only turns into stamina for the future
when I tick, I take the time to make it intricate enough to show you no matter how big the area of problems around me is I can take emotion and minimize it till it looks unreal, as if its not even there
When I strobe, I take that same small feeling, and place it any where in every where, pausing for each millisecond only to go on further pushing little by little towards my destination
When I tut I show that being accurate and right, can only help me be precise in how I work things out whether its around me or in myself ,...
When I finger tut, I take that same concentration, and add to it, hoping God sees the picture I'm tryna paint for him.,
when I animate I take the time to demonstrate how some days I have to literally motivate myself just to get up and face the day
when I glide I show how smoothly things go over when I trust  not just me but God and knowin that my feet are on solid ground
When I freeze  I stop it all, to take a moment to talk to God, and hope that in that moment he hears me so when I move he moves my problems along with me,
but see dancin isn't all an expression of pain for me,.. but that's the most beautiful and harmless way you'll see me release it, so when you see me dance, don't see it as a show of skill, see it as me showing you what i give to God when he looks at me, the me who will try and try and try until I get it right,
Keep workin on me God and perfect me as I perfect my moves,..
now you know me....

Theron Steele

Septembers Chorus

Septembers Chorus

Delicate leaves scorch,
In the last weeks of summer,
Trees wilt helplessly,
Animals store food for their hybernation,
An autumn breeze brings septembers chorus.

Copyright 2013.

Tree Of Knowledge

Tree Of Knowledge

Standing very proud,
Watching the years rolling by,
Wisdom is now found.

Copyright 2013.

The Ones Left Behind

There’s a slow burning river of
sadness rolling through my heart.
There are no fish, no urchins, not a
living thing in its waters but the pain of
the ones left alive
There are no trees along these
blasted river banks, no birds fly
its fiery air, no creatures come to
drink its scalding waters but
the ones left alive.

Bubbling whirlpools swirl inside my eyes,
powdery grit fills up my nostrils, sticks
to my lungs, makes me move with
the slowest motions and I don’t
know if I’m alive.

Black river of tears flowing through
my veins, roaring in my ears,
making me insane. There are
no words, no reason, nothing to
say to ease the hurt for
the ones left alive

Too horrendous to conceive,
too ghastly to relive, too
monstrous to believe for
the ones left alive.

Copyright 9/11/01--2013 Dennis John Ferado

Pen'D Poem: September 9 - 14

Black Weeds

When I’m applying for a job, nobody cares that my mother has two doctorate degrees; my father has his own company. All they see is
that black dot, damn if I came from fine stock. 
Just another nigga
trying to get bigger, just walking down the block cops reach for the trigger.
Why is it that?
I’m the most hated being on the planet, a black man holding his own. I never had to rob and steal plus I own my own home. 
 No I didn’t grow up
In the projects for that I consider myself blessed but hated by my own people cause I didn’t settle for less. Now I’m Uncle Tom cause I didn’t plot
To kill my own brother, selling crack on the corner or getting on it, to
support my habit stealing from my own mother. Just another punk cause I didn’t spend my life in and out of jail, considered a bookworm cause all
my classes I didn’t fail.
Why is it that?
I’m not considered a success, congratulated and treated different from all the rest. My less fortunate brothers and sisters try to tell me I’m not acting black. But what is acting black? Is black striving to be going nowhere but on welfare with an attitude like you don’t care, or is it about growing up to be a crook? Tell me why black means it’s too hard to pick up a book.
when I want to be reminded I’m black all I have to do is apply for a job,
go shop and I dare not go for a jog cause I might get shot. Mad at me
because I don’t want to be associated with crime. Just because I’m black
why should I have to do time. How could you be black and proud to be a
fool? Who told you that bending over, being somebody’s bitch in jail was
cool? But I have to give the little fagots props.
Who said black people don’t stick together?
 In Attica we run cell blocks. Now ask yourself is this
the life you want for your seed, then by example you should lead. Pick up
a book and stop growing little black weeds!

Andre J. Carter

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Jeff McCollum-Campbell

"lyrically I'm like a young Gil Scott Heron.
Viciously verbose."

JH Poetry

"With a beautiful mindset my mission is for you and I to make the world a
better place day by day." It is the simple things that mean so much.

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