Girl With the Tattoo Vol. 1

Girl With the Tatto Vol. 2

The girl with the tattoo vol. 2

First inked up when she was 12 years old
I mean 12 years grown
Her purity was already stolen from her
As were her parents
It was apparent
That she was in desperate need of attention
Not to mention
The obscenities she dare not tell anyone of
Or the miniscule hell in which she lived causing her to curse the man up above
How could a god let her live on her lonesome
But these were internal thoughts
As she wrought in pain
Tears running down her mahogany face
Simultaneously as the blood spilled from the opening
Of her voluntary scar or I should say tattoo
How could something so painful
Bring so much relief
You would understand if you carried the weight of her grief.

Caffeine & Nicotine

Caffeine & Nicotine

Caffeine and nicotine
Yeah mix that shit with Listerine
Toothpaste goes to waste
With a Newport in your face
Oh what an early morning taste
As I get a head rush my heart starts to race
Nothing can replace
That ten minute feeling
When dealing
With the everyday struggles of life
Trying to keep your cranium as sharp as a knife
Yeah you struggle all the time tryna find a rhyme or reason
Witnessing the changes in the seasons
Try to stay true don’t wanna commit treason.
You suck that tobacco dick until in the shower your throat’s bleedin’
And you question yourself is it worth it
Do I ever have a purpose
On this earth it’s killing me internally
Living of Colombian blend is burnin’ me.

Devaso slim.
1955-1992 though his spirit lives on!!

James

James
James doesn’t know his dad
But james is never sad
James is rarely mad.
James has uncles and a mother and grandparents
So quit starin’
At how trashy his mother dresses
Quit stressin
Over whether
He will ever
Acquire the blessing
Of knowing his own father
Why bother?
He also enjoy’s a friendly game of roundball
I pray when he acclimates fame I’m somebody he speaks fond of.
Round of applause for mr. james whoe doesn’t know his father
But will go farther in his life
Than anyone might
Imagine or fathom
Whether it be tippin or tappin
Hip hoppin or rappin’
I know for a fact that he’ll make it happen
No longer askin ,

….Where’s my father?

Sadly, the sterling community lost a young man to suicide this past Sunday by the name of James Campbell. Though I didn’t know this young man his death greatly affected people I am close with. Coincidentally I wrote a poem titled James the following Monday about a young man in my class who at the tender age of five has already accepted the fact that he “doesn’t have a father”. I devote a lot of one on one time to this boy because I know from first hand experience what it’s like to have questions about your dad. What is ironic is that I was told in Mr. Campbell’s note that he left his mother he explained that he just wanted to be close to his father again and that it wasn’t her fault. What are the chances? My father died when I was six months. Mr. Campbell lost his father when he was approximately three or four years old. So this poem is tentatively titled “James” in memory or James Campbell in dedication to my father (as always) and to my favorite student James who believes he doesn’t have a dad. Let this short prose I’m offering you strike a chord with you and act as some sort of consolation to the issues we face today as young men and women who are fatherless.

D. Diggs.

My Zone

Whoa, all these lost niggas that sell dope
Man if drug dealing's an art you know how many f*ckin' artists I know
Take that burner off of your waist discard all them bags of dope
Man trust I know your pain feel like you at the end of your rope.
So why not sell dope?
Every good chance in life, you fumbled the ball and choked.
This that single parent household.
You know, trapped in that mouse hole.
With no outlet for you energy.
Till one fateful day you run into me
and i tell you there's a brighter side.
As if i told the whitest lie
you stare back at me with much surprise,
In disbelief.
And i repeat, the same ol' shit every day,
till you find a way out your situation.
No more desparation,
and to those souls i don't reach,
we all know only god can save 'em.

PREACH!!!

Shady Dave holdin' it down.
Marcel Loop It.
Speech
Devasco Corporations
Bismarck Inc.
r.i.p. D'bims
(dedicated to my siblings, close friends, associates and all of those "artists" i've come across in my life. There IS a brighter side, take heed to this message.

Early Death

White women in white cars white pills and white bars

All contributed to the destruction of my black pride

Its been raining all week you know

but I got the sunshine in my wallet on the low

Seen em on tv tryna crucify Obama

While I’m over here prayin my daughter look just like my mama

Oh my god is that a black broad

And I replied why yes

But I prefer calling her the first reliever of my stress

And like a damsel in distress

I rescued her without saving

My nephew livin poor can’t blame that nigga for not behaving

And being misguided

And always feeling slighted

By them privileged white kids

And every day Denise is getting older ya’ll

Pretty soon ima have more than enough weight on my shoulders dog

This is the autumn that my life change

Yahweh I promise im tryna do the right thang

But trying ain’t always good enough

Could call it quits but crying don’t really prove you tough

I remember you was the only one showin up

Showin love

And sho enough

Now you nowhere to be found

As if I’m the one that let you down

Sad to hear you get around

Not in the form of promiscuity

But promises that never came true to me

I realized why in high school I forever practiced truancy

Cause I thought I had a shield but I was emotionally translucent see

But it’s a steady process working towards long lasting progress

But I have the survivals skills of a bassa warrior

I can envision me now running screaming down the corridor

She going in to labor

Or my son calling up the coroner

My wife crying at the top of lungs but not even them tears can save her….

R.i.p. daddy

Bismack Inc./Devasco Corporations

get it straight slim (straight fit visions)

Like the denim levi’s on my body I wanna be cuffin you

Tatto’s on your body revealing hidden scars cause damn life must’ve been tough for you

Without you daddy showin up

And sho enuff u put ur trust in the wrong fellas

Like mary j. in 94 when she was left stuck singin’ acapella

But I ain’t no kc or a jo jo

You must crazy to wanna be involved with me cause my life is movin fuckin slo mo

Wish I was closer with the niggas in my life stress free pro bono no homo

And oh no

I done been cured of writer’s block

Poem after poem blog entry after another one some wonder when will the writing ever stop

I could never put a halt to writtin expression

This is my method of soul confessin’

And every mshap is a blessin’

In disguise so in the landmark event of my demise

My enemies will be revealed no longer able to hide behind disguise

One thing I despise is denial of the facts

How dare you continue to put on an act

You need to be a complete woman and stop lying on ur back

Quit lying on my name

Cause one day im gone acclimate the fame

And who’s gone be to blame

Except you for being my ever churning motivation

Eyes burning from neurotic dilapidation

Yeah kin and that was just the introduction

To a prose story

I suppose a story

Wouldn’t bore ya’ll would it?

Could it be?

That the one standing next to me

Is the young lady who’s next indeed

Who’s next to bleed?

Next to shead tear’s

Newport between my lips burning

No Nicorette im just shedding years

What’s a lucky number seven when I know I don’t deserve heaven

Im to weak

To even speak

That’s y I write with all my might

Bam bitch Bismarck all in ur throat nigga #shockerslapme