"From The Womb"

"30 poems in 30 days" was a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create in anyway way, shape, or form, with no strenuous, strict rules, started December 15th, 2009, and ended January 13th, 2010.

#24 of 30

I'm just wondering
With all of this help that is pouring in
for Haiti...
And a quiet down of aid to Africa
One can only wonder
Who will thank the mother for
teaching her child
How to be the young man
he was in order to do the things
She had to do to keep him alive
or relevant.


Ifeanyi Okoro II © 2010

"French Disconnection"

"30 poems in 30 days" was a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create in anyway way, shape, or form, with no strenuous, strict rules, started December 15th, 2009, and ended January 13th, 2010.

#23 of 30

I am supposed to accommodate for your lack of patience
Your unwillingness to compromise
This overwhelming feeling to reach into my pockets and
steal from me
This disease you have
Fucking with others
And having the nerve to ask for something for your
pain and suffering
You've contracted from others
And I refuse to lay with you
Or your memories
And that giant ass fort you want to build
So I cast you out of my mind
And make sure that after this rift
I will rebuild
And you will pay for your
intrusion into my heart

Ifeanyi Okoro II © 2010

"Irresponsible Reggae"

"30 poems in 30 days" is a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create in anyway way, shape, or form, with no strenuous, strict rules, starting December 15th, 2009, and ending January 13th, 2010.





#17 of 30





Somewhere inside this dusky incense-laden domain
I'm grinding with this she-spirit
And it's a mutual agreement
To wind both of our waists
And grab
And push
Together

It's a beat that is forbidden in my dreams
Hidden in my fantasies
Just under the cuffs of her pant legs
Tucked inside her short, multi-colored cutoff...

A rhythmic thump and she won't stop
Licking my neck for salt
Accompanying her malt
My head buried in the dip of her shoulders and collarbone area

Steady...

It smells like sweet lilac and lusting eyes
I'm trying my best to stop our twisting
But you cannot deny God
His matinee
He paid for it
Creating four Ifa days
Saving this one for his rest and entertainment

The lights dim
The smokes erects into the atmosphere

It's is divination
Divine dancing in a hedonistic mindset
I'm basically
Penetrating
Without proper protection
In comes music
I can't stop its rush

The heart beats accelerate
The skin retracts
The needle reaches the end groove
Thus producing the
Birth of desire

Ifeanyi Okoro II © 2010

"Found Amongst Blank Skies"

This poem was oriniginally made for "30 poems in 30 days". I decided not to do so, and gave it time to matriculate into a well of words instead.

What color is discrimination?
Shade of unemployment?
Homelessness under the census origins?
Better yet, immaturity where you sign the dotted line?
Missing the point with no direct finger to use
And the more self-righteousness we collect
The lesser self-respect used
We the people
Turn into miniature gods of Cyndi paupers
And silent killers of fat-cat tycoon slaves
A calendar with letters as days numbered
Like blood types created on seven accounts
Drinking from horns of religion
Eating the bread of Nero's gluttonous downfall
Stereotyping as if one tapped their digits against radio
Broadcasting a thought process
On deaf minds
Brainwaves be rough, crashing against shores of truth
Trying to hang ten, or break loose
So we surf for knowledge and find halfway colleges
Online like Greco/Roman formulas
For brother/sister/homo/animalhood
Sprinkled in their sparkling pimp chalice
An African staple and fables of fame
Stamped with tribalism, categorial shame
Shit, half you mafuckas don't even know your own name.
Yet...
We know the color of...











Ifeanyi Okoro II © 2010