Citatepedia^®.com

Yes I Am As happy As A Squirrel In The Dumpster

Yes I am as happy as a squirrel in the dumpster
As happy as maggots in the wound of a dying dog name Fluffy
In my happiness I am dying day by day and by the day I am to happy to pray
Yes dying of happiness found in the dumpster where we buried Fluffy
I am as happy as a smooth stone tied around the neck of a long day yes the long day falling like a stone
Yes the long day smooth as a neck that holds the head of a squirrel feeding in the dumpster of found food that human throw away against the hunger of the world that is too hungry to pray for happiness
I have buried my feet in a pit of maggot blinded by hunger they are dreaming of getting wings but I will throw them away yes yes I will throw them all away because of their hunger hanging heavily around the neck of a smooth stones that falls like the clouds that leaks their heavy liquid load in the long light of the day and the day is as happy as I am who will not pray
I am lost yes lost in the wounded warmth of a dumpster where happiness is as long as the day
I am as happy as a pig wallowing in a muddy ditch
Yes the long day has ditched the sun and the night is happy to be muddyed by stars
I am a pig when it comes to happiness and I say yes when it comes I am yes I am long in my happiness
It is hard won by the muddy love of human warmth packed beneath the sheets where the long day sleeps
I am as happy as a Robin with a beak full of worms
Yes I worm my way throught happiness as the long day worms its way out of night that has buryed the sun with its own happiness full of warmth packed beneath the space from which the stars come
I am as happy as one who stands out against the many lost in the many of ones who have lost their oneness in the collected warmth of the many
Yes I am one with happiness that collect for me the lost warmth found in a ditch that acts as a dumpster
I am lost in my happiness and I have forgotten how to pray yes I have forgotten how to because with my happiness there is no need to beg the begger of Gods
Yes there is no need to beg the forgotten Gods

poem by David E. Patton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Braggadocio

I am everything
Man, I am everything
I reign more than clouds
I am above every king

I’m a gentleman and a truant
From the streets to the scholars
All tongues, I speak them fluent
It’s better to ask whom I haven’t influenced
A challenge to most, to me is a nuisance

I’ve got more heart than surgeons
Working on Valentine’s
My heroism is a burden
My courage the paradigm

Loose fitting, I’m never slackin’
I’ve got more guts than Patton
On Friday with Jason Voorhees
I’m sharper than Krueger’s knives

[...] Read more

poem by P.R. Prosper
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

02-02-2011 Cruel phenomenons

02-02-2011

Cruel phenomenons
gibberish of the smart
fluency of glossolalia
religions grouped into
inconsistencies of art
language of the speakers
the heads of church and state
cubcortical structures
lays waste the human's spiritual
mental waste
meanings authorization
rhythmical tongues
Protestant denomination
burns away the
bibliographical mentality
full of authorization
I Corinthian
breaks down the factors

[...] Read more

poem by David E. Patton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Holy Roller

-Copyrighted & registed 2008 ASCAP Music/Austin-Tatious Music-(Preach-2-the-Preachers Ministries)
Dedicated to those who worship the numbers, money, influence, affluence, and holier-than-thou pragmatism that modern churches & mega-churches have eroded to.

The Holy Roller

Hey Holy-Roller, you're just too funny;
How you give that church, mountains of money.
Preacher gets money, lives high on the hog;
Feeds Filet Mignon, to his weenie-dog!

Church says 'Good Holy, gets stars in his crown; '
But, he still ignores, the homeless downtown!
He knows that bible, quotes it all the time,
Church grows richer but, they can't spare a dime!

Church got pearly gate, and a golden street,
Children face winter, in their cold, bare-feet.
Preacher's new Hummer, is So-Very-Fine,
Bag-Lady stands in, the soup-kitchen line.

[...] Read more

poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Reeducating by any means necessary to achieve the revitalization and realignment of the black soul

Consorting with the enemy
Needless to say it is painful
To speak of some blacks people as the enemy
But it is necessary to dispel
The well meaning harm within the good wishes
And good book
Of the church
Each Sunday the bells rings out
Calling the faithful dressed in their finest
With hats tipped to the side they strive
With a pride of self that belies
The dream deferred.
The young Richard Allen and Absalom Jones
Were not misguided in so far
As their shared vision was authentic and so on
July 17,1794 a new kind of bondage
Of oppression was forged into the chain of slavery
And worship to be used in the service of colonization
Of the black mind and spirituality,
Francis Scott Key who wrote

[...] Read more

poem by David E. Patton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Black America (The Story Of Pain And Glory)

From the rich land of Africa where we were King's of our soil dripped in gold brought to you beaten, battered, and sold.America, we sailed across your rippling seas against our will as we sought survival while thousands of us lay desolate, demoralized, and dead before arrival.America, finally here where we forced to work without pay as our blood, sweat, and tears trickled against our brown skin from sun up till the break of day.America, to pass the crawling time spent on our ragged heels we let our voices ring out across the cotton fields. America, we sang, oh yes! we sang. About our captivity as well as are spirituality. America, song expressed our inner hope and sorrow for yesterday, today, and even tomorrow. America, your Constitution states that all men are created equal as we stood chained and lacerated from the leather, so tell me what holds more weight the Constitution or a feather? America, One nation under God indivisible with liberty and justice for all that's what we were taught. One nation under God indivisible with liberty and justice for y'all that's what we thought. America, your sun didn't shine so bright or fast while our fight we just had to outlast. And the struggle poured like Seattle rain, but 1863 finally free of those chains. America, but you didn't stop your hatred while many fled to the North where we felt the safest. In these days we still couldn't progress just an inch, it felt like a bad dream only we couldn't be pinched, as every waking morning the news read 'Another Negro Lynched'. America, throughout all the hardships we always had the music, music which bled through the depths of our souls, from the early spirituals of our ancestors singing 'Wade in the Water' to the muddy banks of the Mississippi where Men like Son House, Charley Patton, Muddy Waters, and Howlin' Wolf were playing all night in Juke Joints as liquor spilled, smoke rose, and sweat poured to the heartbeat of the Blues. Robert Johnson...ahhh...Robert Johnson the incomparable Blues-man who howled at the dusty moon! Broken ax slung over his shoulder, voice trembling at the crossroads as he wrapped his spider-like fingers around his guitar, picking with fury, singing 'I'm a steady rollin' man, I roll both night and day but I don't have no sweet woman to be rollin' this-a-way'. These Blues which began in the cotton fields and the Delta South made their way to the concrete jungle, the rhythm pulsating streets of Harlem where cool cats like Thelonious Monk, Dizzy Gillespie, and Charlie Parker were composing the wild and mystical sounds of Bop, (Be-Bop Be-Bop) Miles...ahhh...Miles Davis, the epitome of hip- dark shades, golden trumpet blowing in the streets of eternity, sweat dripping, veins screaming, his look- brooding and low externally blowing internal blues, his melody- colorful and vibrant as the most perfect hue, his notes- which would bend at his very will, his sound- captured and momentarily made still. And, the music well it's still something I can't quite explain, something that stabs you in the heart but feels so good! America, why all the suffering, why all the pain? here it is 1963 and your still the same. Segregated laws, segregated halls, man we couldn't catch a break even segregated stalls. Soon enough leaders for a new change arose out of the ashes of bigotry and etched there names into the walls of history. Huey P. Newton, Rosa Parks, Malcolm X illuminated the spirit of our youth and aged alike. Dr. King...ahhh...Martin Luther King Jr. our own worldly king of peace. Pah, Pah, ! two bullets cut across the Memphis sky, dream deceased. America, why when a King emerges you dethrone them? Is it because when the people don't have a voice you know you can control them? 1968 the years progressed tension rose creating stress, buildings burned as the country turned to a blank page of restless and un-godly rage. America, you killed our leaders but you could never kill our spirit.1975- we came to a period of self-empowerment and once again the music shined through us emphasizing the way we spoke and acted. 'Say it loud I'm Black and I'm proud' rang out through the inner city where poverty whispered around every corner. Gil-Scott Heron, Parliament Funkadelic, Curtis Mayfield, and Issac Hayes gave us a sense of belonging with their soul-stirring words and rhythm. The Godfather of soul...ahhh...James Brown the funkiest man in America, who grooved and shuffled across the stage, cape flowing across his back singing: 'It's a mans world oh but it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a Woman or a girl' The black woman- Mother of Earth, nurturer of child, teacher of love, where would our story be without you? 1994- The times they were a-changin' (as Dylan's prophecy read) the inner city, well the poverty wasn't whispering anymore rather howling through the street corners and the music reflected the times. Big Daddy Kane, Rakim, Run DMC, and Tupac rapped the images they seen in their everyday existence. Christopher Wallace...ahhh... The Notorious B.I.G. rapped from the depths of his belly providing us with imagery and story which have yet to be rivaled. 'It was all a dream I used to read word up magazine salt n pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine' pah! pah! two bullets cut across the L.A. sky dream deceased. America, it hasn't been a dream rather a nightmare. America we can forgive but we can't forget. It's been nearly 600 years since you brought us here, men and women driven away from our family and peers.2012- America, look how far we've come from Kings to shackles back to Kings. America, your root of existence is planted by our seed and finally it's beginning to sprout. For so many years we were looked at as just an un-worthy resident, now look at us Barack Obama first Black president. America I am you, America we are you, America we are your story- Black America pain and glory.

poem by Electric Hipster
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Mirrors

Cast: Kiefer Sutherland, Paula Patton, Cameron Boyce, Erica Gluck, Amy Smart

trailer for Mirrors, directed by Alexandre Aja (2008)
Added by anonym
Comment! | Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire

Cast: Gabourey Sidibe, Mo'Nique, Paula Patton, Mariah Carey, Sherri Shepherd

trailer for Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire, directed by Lee Daniels, screenplay, inspired by Sapphire (2009)
Added by Basil
Comment! | Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

Just Wright

Cast: Paula Patton, Queen Latifah, Pam Grier, Michael Landes, Mehcad Brooks

trailer for Just Wright, directed by Sanaa Hamri (2010)
Added by Alessia
Comment! | Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

The Fourth Kind

Cast: Milla Jovovich, Elias Koteas, Will Patton, Corey Johnson, Hakeem Kae-Kazim

trailer for The Fourth Kind, directed by Olatunde Osunsanmi (2009)
Added by anonym
Comment! | Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian