The rose that never wilts (For my parents)
You are the rose that never wilts
The hugs and love that never quit
You are the constant in a life full of inconstant
You are the one who is there to whisper in my ear
The first to wipe away life caused tears
The ones who showed me that life is about doing what you need to
Not necessarily what you want to
Two beings as strong as granite and marble
Who have lasted the test of time
In time to test the stability of the children they have made
All the time ready to lend a few dollars
All of the time ready to give advice
All of the time ready to ask how was your day
While every day is not perfect
And every day is not full of rainbows and flowers
Your caring questions and concern
Have cause me to realize that I have two fabulous parents
Two roses that never give up on their baby boy
That had the gumption and talent
To raise a lawyer
To raise a therapist
To raise a future Physicians assistant
To raise a future MBA
To raise a entrepreneur
To give voice to an autistic child who did not have his own voice
You are the roses that never wilt or fade
Never say no when, no might be the best answer for you
But because it was always the right answer for me, you said “yes”
You are the two roses in my life
And have been since day one of my life
"An Akili Carter original"
“Poetry is an orphan of silence. The words never quite equal the experience behind them.” Charles Simic. Poetry has been my solace for the last 16 years. My new book is called "A Man Undefined" these are some of the poems from the collection. Contact me via facebook if you are interested in ordering either of my books. Thanks for stopping in.
29.8.09
27.8.09
Confused
Confused
I usually look to my poems for solace and relief
What do I do now when I’m confused
Feel sad everyday like all my days are full of grief
Want to really shed some tears but need to be strong for me
I don’t even believe I have an answer to this question
Want to look to the stars and pray for direction
Well I never really prayed before
So I don’t want to be considered an opportunist
I’m not that selfish
I’m confused about the orientation of this compass
Trying to look for direction but my heart feels like a broken compass
Like I’m just tired of feeling tired
And being tired has me feeling like I should be more wired
I didn’t intend for this to be more then a few lines thrown together
Feel lost in my own head and heart like a lost child
Disconnected from my own feelings right now
Haven’t picked up the pen in about two weeks
Want to be strong, but being strong makes me feel weak
Makes my handles tremble from rejection
Meaning the words will be rejected by my heart
I'm confused and I don’t know where to start
"An Akili Carter original"
I usually look to my poems for solace and relief
What do I do now when I’m confused
Feel sad everyday like all my days are full of grief
Want to really shed some tears but need to be strong for me
I don’t even believe I have an answer to this question
Want to look to the stars and pray for direction
Well I never really prayed before
So I don’t want to be considered an opportunist
I’m not that selfish
I’m confused about the orientation of this compass
Trying to look for direction but my heart feels like a broken compass
Like I’m just tired of feeling tired
And being tired has me feeling like I should be more wired
I didn’t intend for this to be more then a few lines thrown together
Feel lost in my own head and heart like a lost child
Disconnected from my own feelings right now
Haven’t picked up the pen in about two weeks
Want to be strong, but being strong makes me feel weak
Makes my handles tremble from rejection
Meaning the words will be rejected by my heart
I'm confused and I don’t know where to start
"An Akili Carter original"
25.8.09
Words Are My Weapons of Choice
I grab my pen and cock it ready for war
Ready to go into hand to hand combat with misconceptions
Just cause I’m 6 foot 5 doesn’t mean that poetry doesn’t move my soul
Just because I like to shoot the ball doesn’t mean, I don’t stab my pen into my veins
Draw ink tinged blood like the rest of the poets
I’m from Long Isle and the art is in my heart
Just like in Chelsea or tribeca
I use words just like anyone else does to fight my wars
I use my words to make people cry when I want to be caustic
I use my words to heal broken hearts
Like when Kelly lost her best friend
The words are my weapons to let my girl know she is loved
There is no need for grenades or knives, f a gun
Because, my gun has pentel written on the barrel
And has paper mate etched on the handle
My pen shoots bullets tipped with graphite metaphors that penetrate deep
Deep into your soul
Deep into your cerebellum and help you realize that
The weapons that you use don’t affect me
I borrow bullets from Hughes, Cullen, and Nikki
I get ammo from Biggie, Jay-Z, and Jadakiss
So kiss your weapons good bye because if we stand
Toe to toe me and you, you’re out gunned and out manned
Words are the flavor they savor in my neighborhood
Not that it’s so hood
But it’s my hood and you better enter armed with vocab
My weapons were supplied by my mother and father
Are going to be carried on by my son and daughter
Are going to be potent until the day, words like mine aren’t important
Because, every poet needs to have their weapons cocked to aim
Whether in L I or B K
Words are my weapons and I would have it no other way
"An Akili Carter original"
Ready to go into hand to hand combat with misconceptions
Just cause I’m 6 foot 5 doesn’t mean that poetry doesn’t move my soul
Just because I like to shoot the ball doesn’t mean, I don’t stab my pen into my veins
Draw ink tinged blood like the rest of the poets
I’m from Long Isle and the art is in my heart
Just like in Chelsea or tribeca
I use words just like anyone else does to fight my wars
I use my words to make people cry when I want to be caustic
I use my words to heal broken hearts
Like when Kelly lost her best friend
The words are my weapons to let my girl know she is loved
There is no need for grenades or knives, f a gun
Because, my gun has pentel written on the barrel
And has paper mate etched on the handle
My pen shoots bullets tipped with graphite metaphors that penetrate deep
Deep into your soul
Deep into your cerebellum and help you realize that
The weapons that you use don’t affect me
I borrow bullets from Hughes, Cullen, and Nikki
I get ammo from Biggie, Jay-Z, and Jadakiss
So kiss your weapons good bye because if we stand
Toe to toe me and you, you’re out gunned and out manned
Words are the flavor they savor in my neighborhood
Not that it’s so hood
But it’s my hood and you better enter armed with vocab
My weapons were supplied by my mother and father
Are going to be carried on by my son and daughter
Are going to be potent until the day, words like mine aren’t important
Because, every poet needs to have their weapons cocked to aim
Whether in L I or B K
Words are my weapons and I would have it no other way
"An Akili Carter original"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)