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Of Madmen And Silent Voices
Author:
Christopher Higgins
Published:
8/27/2009 1:49:19 PM
Pages:
148
Keywords:
Africa,America,angels,Barack Obama,Black,brother,Caribbean,central park,Church,curry,daddy,Emmett Ti...
Audience Level:
Mature
Genres:
Poetry / General
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This book of poetry speaks on various experiences that have influenced my life from childhood to adulthood. The poems are a window into the world as it appears to me. The world is filled with voices that have been quiet for far too long, and this is my chance to give those quiet voices an opportunity to speak loudly and shout about the injustices of this world.
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Christopher is a writer who has been writing for several years. He is a native from Jamaica, and while some of his writings speaks about his life growing up on the island, most are related to his manhood under the American sun. He is a writer that is affected by the journey of mankind and how the universe deals with those it considers less desirable. For the last four years Christopher has made his home in the south, and as a result his writing grew even more because of the experiences of being a black man in the south.
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Alphabet City
I left a few verses on your asphalt back in the eighties
when you were my special lady
dressed in rebel luscious clothing
with your sweet lips that kissed me words of liberty
as I laid with your breast and dreamt concepts
that shook establishments from its core
daring the man to knock on my door
feeling the wrath that was birthed in you.
My words over the years has grown legs
romanced by lovers of verses who
are now dressing up a once upon time bodega
as the F train rumble down yonder
setting off orgasmic sounds of pleasure.
My words doing the salsa with needles and forties
along with creative ghosts who never made it out of you
minds who have died long ago still walk
your beat from Tompkins Square Park
to the Nuyorican Poets Cafe listening to voices of today
while drinking and feasting on your flowing juices.
Graffiti writers and B-Boys still banging you
from their graves with memories
sexing you up on asphalt on a hot summer's night
awakening your sounds
digging deep in your core
unloading their frustrations and dissatisfaction.
My words still rocking Avenue A late at night
still slinging depth on Avenue B from a bad boy's plight
still on asphalt journeying down Avenue C
my words still making noise while doing some loving on Avenue D.
Alphabet City
I left a few verses on your asphalt back in the eighties
when you were my special lady
dressed in rebel luscious clothing
with your sweet lips that kissed me words of liberty
as I laid with your breast and dreamt concepts
that shook establishments from its core
daring the man to knock on my door
feeling the wrath that was birthed in you.
My words over the years has grown legs
romanced by lovers of verses who
are now dressing up a once upon time bodega
as the F train rumble down yonder
setting off orgasmic sounds of pleasure.
My words doing the salsa with needles and forties
along with creative ghosts who never made it out of you
minds who have died long ago still walk
your beat from Tompkins Square Park
to the Nuyorican Poets Cafe listening to voices of today
while drinking and feasting on your flowing juices.
Graffiti writers and B-Boys still banging you
from their graves with memories
sexing you up on asphalt on a hot summer's night
awakening your sounds
digging deep in your core
unloading their frustrations and dissatisfaction.
My words still rocking Avenue A late at night
still slinging depth on Avenue B from a bad boy's plight
still on asphalt journeying down Avenue C
my words still making noise while doing some loving on Avenue D.
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