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ExpressionsByLewis

Undividual Poet

Category

Philosophy

hardknockery

Art by Victor Hugo Qisso

our son

laid across the sofa

and told me that ideas

are bulletproof

i marveled at his conception

age eleven

never a glimpse at hardknockery

learning hard truth

keeping a soft heart

over things he hasn’t been through

or shit creeks he’s never been to

i gotta make his skin tough

and leave the light in his eyes

so he can beast

and yeast

set west

go east

and rise

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surfboard

surfboard
don’t do it

i’m riding this wave

i won’t misbehave

i might even shave

i promise

i’ll keep it rough

and keep it to myself

be in my lane

stay on the left

i promise

just leave the light off

i’ll read in the dark

don’t leave the toys out

i’m making my mark

i won’t be lonely by doing this wholely

and solely alone

don’t try to control me me

i’m making this art

painting portraits of greatness

with words from the heart

making prophecy profit

setting it apart

from the rest of vision

killin from the start

i promise

the devil is a lie

don’t be that guy

don’t kill my vibe

tap it in

all in the hips
all in the hips

we bums

bumpkins and bosses

sittin flawlessly flossless

at a bus stop

with backpacks and

napsacks

knowing nobody

is on the other end of that call

conversing with casperatic cool points

folk out here smokin two joints

like they gonna smoke the two boys

in blue across the lot

but too hard to take a selfie

where the lighting is good

take a pic my negus

and don’t beg us for attention

keep your self love retention at maximum

don’t ask for none

bask in some

grasp the sun

you’ll find you’re always good enough

and live

orientation
orientation

stay black

that is

beyond ahead of the curve

the curve bender

the angle maker

steeply intrinsically literally

rooted in suns

hewn from earth

sibling to the wolf

to the air

to unknown

stay too intentional

to fit in round boxes

look awkward in uniforms that

don’t fit the form

unfit for a god

while becoming who you are

stay free

to love

to build

free as a function

reflective of rivers

at the center of humanity

teeming with more life than oceans

and live

that is

stay live

be lit

keep it trill

and soulshining in a garden of

bad substitutes

my negus

and live

chocolate addict

fiend
fiend

i can’t get past your aesthetic

hope you don’t mind

i got married for

the lifetime supply of chocolate

you just

overflow with loveliness

quencher of this manhood

attracted to the cocoa

dripping just south

from the center of your soul

eatables

PBNJ
PBNJ

i hate a late breakfast

and i don’t like brunch

but i sure do like

dinner for lunch

a juicy porterhouse

with red potatoes at noon

blackberry merlot

six hours too soon

i like creamy peanut butter

with strawberry preserves

at two in the morning

just to balance my nerves

whole wheat bread

for the love of texture

food made and eaten

in the seat of my affections

trill

artesian
artesian

she could cuss you clean

and get god to move

a mountain

a bullet

a meth lab

too

did things

quick to get other folk killed

she never played a part

always fit the bill

sunrise in the bittermost winter

upon behest

warm and penetrating

just like her request

wind and hail subside

for the kids to go to school

she was real

she was true

she wrote the damn rules

bruh

le fuzz
le fuzz

who can be mad

when somebody hate theyself

to the point they willin

to put heart on the shelf

and soften up they mind

and harden up they hide

and bag they neighbor soul

and sling it to the side

who can be mad

when wickedness is normal

sin is taught as natural

and fuckery is normal

when god is dressed in chains

disguised as holy words

when fear is clad with hate

and lovewear look absurd

who can be mad

when power prey on weakness

not of other folk

but grafted in where should be meekness

when people destroy worlds

cuz they don’t know how to live

lookin passed they hirt

pride as the sedative

everybody

can be pissed the fuck off

thcha (the cha)

cha
cha

thirsty

no reason humans

anywhere in this world

should walk its crust

in want

hungry

no body ought to lack

what is needed

to live

cold

no one i know

enjoys the destitution of poor folk

their struggle to exist

hopeless

there are a few people

i know not

who want poverty

for the common

angry

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