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Guest Blog: Eric Blair and Friends’ Present: Poetry Slam Part Uno

Guest Blog: Eric Blair and Friends’ Present: Poetry Slam Part Uno

           ‘Ello…’Ello, beautiful people out there. This week is a good week for you all. I have a few guest features; this week is a poetry slam. I asked a few friends to write a poem. This week’s blog is about free thought, free expression, and free self. Poetry is a writing form in which you can really get to know a person.  Honestly, I am tired of talking about myself and my views. For one week, I want to open up the forum/stage to other very talented people.  I hope you enjoy. I am also hoping this week’s blog will open the minds of other talented people who might submit piece or two. We could have a poetry slam part two if you like or enjoy. Okay, time for some poetry. Let’s go!

The Black Family Question Mark  by Saddiq Spit Shabazz

The streets is filled with walking zombies

Don’t know what time it is they follow the false time piece

Their leaders are followers and they follow behind theem

You know how it is when the blind leads…blindly

See out of three eyes, revive & mind read

this is what they missing out on, its by design see

because we don’t grow up living like a Cosby

we cling to illusions the ruses strike us oddly

and we take the falsehoods, spread em throughout our hoods

the masses are attracted its classic to get em lost good

we floatin out of order like we floating out of water


and they boat is not an order, ores carry you to slaughter

what they taught us?  Enough chemicals to make you nauseous

public schools filled with asbestos lead paint and poison water

i look up to the stars like a son looks at his father

walking amun-gst kings re-alize and ya re-ach is farther

queens don’t think they’re royal they’re living in self torture

judging the caliber of companions by what he bought ya

selling your triple darkness for gold that’s already yours but

what you get in return is brainwashing you want more stufff

the his-story books got em thinkin they came before us

like we was just slaves for decades and they ignored us

came to Africa and backed us into a corner

that’s our throne not our home so all that did was annoy us

now we runnin’ chasin’ change chains and a tour bus

so we can imitate daddy warbucks

the black orphan Annies, up & down the pole missing her panties

damn, what happened to the black family?


Revenge by Eric Blair

Do you know the taste of revenge?
That salty, bitter, sweet taste in the back of your mind
The knowing of relationship defeat
Too acute to cry or stop to catch your breath
Want to continue on the path of rancor
Hearing the echo of chuckling from you in my head
Only enrages me to continue up this road of malice
Each step brings me closer to you
Not to hug or kiss
To breakdown, brick by brick.
Limb by limb
Eye for an eye
As I inhale the raging smoke and flames in the air
Many nights I try to suppress these callous feelings to the back of my mind
The more I can see your prickly smirk
Laughing
Pointing
Degrading my soul
Picking me apart
Until I am insignificant
Brings me back to the same place as I am gritting of my teeth
And the deranged point of view I see
Once I arrive to my proclaim my vengeance
That would be your heart
Once I am here, face to face with you
I am decease to be
Because I am not the man I once was
I am just the spiteful and sinister being I fight so hard not to be
I am just the walking embodiment of revenge

Just Because by Keri Barnes

Just because she’s a female you can’t tell me that I don’t love her

Just because she’s a female doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t be able to add her to my health care

Just because she’s a female doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t be able to get married

Just because she’s a female doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be able to raise a family together

And just because she is a female doesn’t mean that if she hits me it’s not domestic abuse


The Seductress by Nicole Phoenix
You’ve seen me walking through your streets on poison-spiked heels
Floating above all the grime, you lust after me with unfettered zeal
On display for all to crave, fear, and covet
Haven’t had me yet but I know that you’ll love it
Hypnotized by my grace and the sway of my hips
You’ll do anything to get a taste of my venomous lips
I smile so sweetly and pose so demure
Drenched in perfume to mask the smell of manure
I am the most mystical of mirrors; a reflection of you
A bite of my flesh and visions of your life come to view
You’re richer and thinner; every dream has been pleased
So consumed with the intoxication of your own fantasies
You’ve been warned of my prowess and dangerous powers
How I’ve taken the greatest of kings and turned them to cowards
Your elders have warned you of all my various forms
And with a weak mind your life can surely be torn
It’s always too late, you men never see
The trail of fools that always seem to follow me
You may have noticed my amulets that dance and glint in the sun
Each is a soul; I’ve taken every single one
They beg, they plead, and they even try to barter
Each one has promised they’ll try; they’ll work so much harder
I’m a ravenous beast; I don’t give only take
So before you indulge, what is really at stake?
Brick by brick your reality crumbles
You walk around dazed, spitting inaudible mumbles
You just want one more kiss, one more chance at greatness
I’m all you ever think about and you’re running out of patience
Maybe a dollar or two, for a fee I agree
To give you a couple more minutes; another taste of me
The more you keep trying, the more I elude
Giving me more and more even your last scraps of food
I have made this seduction your ultimate destruction; it’s my life’s work
Leaving you quivering in a pool of your lust while you dribble and jerk

Misunderstood by Chris “C. Stylez” Hughes
Sometimes it feels like nobody understands me/
Not my momma, not my friends, not my family/
The only one that understands me is god/
And I aint spoke to him in years so I’m surprised I aint die/
As I, swallow my pride and I look to the sky/
And he looks down on me and see a tear in my eye/
He said, me and ya nana got ya back to the end/
And u can weather any storm just put ya back to the wind/
Then I, wiped my eyes and I started to grin/
And I said, I know the way that I b acting is a sin/
But, sometimes it feels like its me against the world/
And the world keep winnin, that’s y I keep sinnin/
I gotta get this paper, stack instead of spendin/
I gotta do this music instead of fuckin round wit woman/
I got niggas hatin on me in my own hood/
All these problems just from bein misunderstood/

We by Aquila Phillips
Damn
There he goes again
Selfishly consuming my thoughts
Please release me that I may be free
Breaking my concentration
Invading my imaginations
With visions of us becoming
We
As I break out of what will probably never be
Back to reality
I violently
Quake their home that they may tumble and I may be free
But just like he and his ancestral black men
He rises and rebuild again
Returning to my thoughts
then taking me places that for years I fought not to see
And I plea
Please release me that I may be free
Free from the possibility
Of losing this friend more valuable to me
Than my perfectly mixed neo soul CD
That ushers me to the highest level of creativity
Imprisoned by visions of what could be
Stalling my production to a halt
like a car in flood waters 3 feet deep
Please release me that I may be free
Exhausted from the fight of visions of my potential life
Too frightened to phantom I’m forfeiting a friend
or forgoing the chance of becoming his wife
Can’t let this consume my life
So…
I give up
He wins
I give in
to his clairvoyant visions
and I see
We
We as us
And us is free
Our exodus from friendship leads us on an uncomfortable path
Our sandals wearing thin
As we cross our Jordan
into our Canaan
Land of
We
Gwen Gia Green. (Translation: New Age Nigger) by Eric Blair
I met this girl name Gwen Gia Green.
I introduce myself as Mr. Blair
She replied, No hood name?
How many baby mommas do ya got?
Wha’ cha deal, yo?
Why didn’t ya call me a bitch?
Ya work wh’ere?
How many years ya been in da pen?
Ya from Norf  Philly
Ya don’ live th’re no mo’
What’s good wit’ ya then?
No bullet holes?
Ya don’ spark the El?
Don’ sling rocks?
Don’ bang Wayne?
Wha’ da White talk fo’
Damn, ya tryin’ ta holla at me
I don’ do Uncle Toms
My face is in amazement
I am not up to the times any more
I guess am lost in the era of the New Age NiggerI hope you all enjoyed reading this week’s blog. If you’re interested in helping me to make a part two to my poetry slam and would like to submit a piece; drop me a line at erin_s_daddy@yahoo.com
Thank you for stopping by this week.

About Mr. Blair

Eric Blair was born in August of 1984 in Philadelphia, PA, and raised in the North Philly section of the city. He has always enjoyed stories, schemes, and the complexities of plots. At a young age he discovered that he could create narratives full of adventures, creativity, and intrigue. It was this realization that caused him to fall in love with the art of storytelling. At age of twenty-one Eric began writing comic books. His first professional book “Hip-Hop Chronicles” was written for Space Dawg Entertainment in 2004. Eric’s writing style ranges from descriptive to expository writing, where the writing serves to explain and inform the audience. He uses thoroughly developed characters, clever situations, and witty conversation style and tone to keep readers engaged. Eric is inspired by authors who can evoke an emotional response from the reader, as well as authors who can blend elements of fact with fiction to construct a great piece. Eric is currently working on a series of comic books that are soon to be published, his recent writings have been guest featured on several online blogs. He works on perfecting his craft by consistently updating his work, editing pieces, reviewing the latest relevant material, and surrounding his self with like minded, creative, intelligent people.
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