A compilation of some of my poems

I don’t expect you to read or understand this all either

But thought I’d share a little.

Beautiful flowers

You’re in the cubicle tired

God damn what a beautiful desire

To maybe save the world

A little bit

Maybe spread the word

And give a bit

Other people are paranoid too.

I used to get abused by the bullies at school. They’d pull me by the hair and Beat me up till I drool. Blood. It mixes in with the mud. One time I got an infection so I made the confession to my mother. About the abuse to her daughters brother. Well another week went by. Another reason why. I’d be better off in the woods getting high with the stoner guys. No one messes with these peaceful people.

Unless they’re crazier than the last man to claim he thinks deeper. Then Jesus Christ. Don’t worry I’m not so nice on the mic. For you to even concern my claim.

A Mix. Of the twist. Of the sick. With. The sane. I spit out the pain. To these manes. Cuz suffering ain’t nothing. Pain is inevitable. Yeah till I’m gone off the edible.

I’m unstable. I left my house this morning I forgot to take my meds. The rain is pouring this day might leave me dead.

I’m unstable

Lost in this diagnosis

this ■■■■■■■ label.

Call me schizophrenic well you’ve heard the fables

The tales straight from the jails

For the mentally insane

The terror it wasn’t any error

But take a gander at who’ve they’ve blamed

For this mark attached to my name

Now I’m for life considered this way

Now I fight in spite of that bad ■■■■■■■ day

I had a mad ■■■■■■ brain.

Insane in the membrane

They told me oh lord please don’t let him consume cocaine

The fumes of the Mary Jane

Is enough for a mayne

with such a history

Of lunacy

A misery without any unity

My family is crazy

Thinking I were a deity but at the same time

Thinking I was nothing

But one day I can maybe become something


I’ve had it

I’ve made certain things patterns my habits

They’ve poisoned me like castor beans.

I’ve tried it all from a pastor, to a rapper, to a coach for a team

A blue collar worker

Two times I heard ya

How you have the nerve to

Say it again

Like I didn’t hear you back then.

Still you’re incorrect

Still I connect

To these thoughts and

I’m not lost

In this cold…in this frost.

That was the morning to my life.

What you just expect me to die?

I’m more than your typical terrible neuro-abnormal alright?

It’s typical. It’s terrible. How they order you to think this hysteria.

I’m right

When I say you’re wrong

■■■■ you I’m jon

A shrink quits

On account of no changing this.

Plus his patients drive him mad.

That was a misconception they just made him sad.

Society judges

Lying to me I got another

Coping mechanism I discover.

Smoking cessation I reckon helped my mother.

And my brother

But what about the other

Sibling who just seems to hover.

In this life so she might be on this brutal path.

A bubble bath,

In The Foam of terror.

There must be an error.

Because That’s a heck of a way to go out.

My big bro relapses, what now.

Will it ever end.

Will you ever send

Angels from heaven

Because it seems this is the blessings of the devil

When you can’t think straight

It’s contagious

They tell me have faith

But it seems like god enslaved us.

If Tupac was a rose that grew from the concrete then I am the weed that grew in the garden. Pardon. Hillside carrots. Nothing but lethal pills can spare us. This beauty. A duty. To refute the. Delirium. Hysteria.

Youthful looks, truthful books.

Sitting by my bedside.

Won’t read them but I know why.

I bought them.

They must have fallen.

When my cat knocks them off.

The draw of the socks.

The law of the lost,

Is don’t cry for help.

Scrutiny and stigmatism

Soo, mutiny against those bigger figures.

I don’t care about politics.

I just know we’re so lost.

So how could we say.

Conservatism is right. When not even liberalism is enough to change us.

At least enough as we should be…

A total paradigm shift in morality.

When you change your mind…

On some subjects…

You see…

that, it ain’t about politics if we can’t even tie our shoes properly

Stupid nonsense

I need the content

The control for I’m on a roll

Take a stroll

By the path near the flagpole

I laugh

Get half

Do the math

Get whole

I’m on a rhythm a roll. It’s given this way that I’m living im told. That I’m psycho. Hold on. I just wasn’t right yo in the head no. Leave em dead so. I murder these instruments

No curving this shrinks way he dismisses. My dismay. For this day. For I find the way. On my own.

I turn the tides. Burn cyanide. Yearn for higher times. Without this poison this crack I have a higher mind. Invite the boys in I’m back. From this brilliant idea. This millionth time that I hear. I need to get better. Well I improve. Forever. Now never. However. I’m not so clever. So fast. Just glad that I’m bad to the bone. What’s going on in the world today

I’m going gone make the earth shake

Like an earthquake.

For lords sake.

Have faith

I’m here for the take

I’m near to the lake

Just follow the river

Don’t need to borrow cuz I deliver

This verse

So much strangeness. In the air. This ■■■■ is weird. I just don’t care. Nothing surprises me. Yet.
In a pattern of failure and timidness I felt dead and broken much of my youth. During my very early days I was fine, I guess. But as time commenced I seemingly lost my mind. It wasn’t because of drugs, but later people may have thought so. Some trauma came. My first grade report card cited me as a “real sensitive little boy”. So maybe trauma was a little worse for me than for others. At least stuff of the same degree. I was launched into the world headfirst by the grips of metal forceps. Previously in the spirit world, everything was alright. When I was told this life was to be a tough test, I didn’t think it would be right away, when I first exited the womb. Born sliced up and bloodied, I cried when I got handed to my Mother. Much love was there from the start both from me and from her. The feelings were mutual.



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Thank u. Most are designed to be raps but I’m not cut out to be a rapper.

I like how it’s a good way to express the conflicting/contradictory points from my illness.

Maybe one day I can organize some type of book with all my poems.

They’ve got intensely more personal and following a story more lately.

@Jonnybegood nice poems!

I’ve released 4 short poetry books which I plan on combining into one large one.

Poetry is a way of the schizophrenic life, at least that’s what I think.

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Have you tried to do it in Rap?

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