I don’t have words of wisdom
Nor words of folly,
Neither words of sorrow
Nor words of Joy
I don’t have words of freedom
Nor words of redemption
Neither words to teach
Nor words to learn
My words do not heal
And neither inflict pain
They don’t enlighten
Or cloud the mind
I don’t speak in metaphors
I don’t speak in symbols
My words don’t personify
They cannot be used in comparison
My words are not part of a sentence
They have no subject or predicate
They obey no lexical rules
They’re alien to nouns and verbs
I don’t speak in prose
Neither are my words poetic
My words have no ideologies
Or theories to propound
They’re not words to be quoted
Nor words to borrow
I do not have words of courage
Or words to inspire
My words are not political
They are not part of a manifesto
Neither are they religious
They’re not words to preach
My words cannot be sang
They cannot be danced to
My words are not scientific
They cannot define a cyclotron
They haven’t been to outer space
They’re not on cyber space
They don’t need any space
They occupy no space
They cannot be broadcast on VHF, UHF,
Short Wave or Long Wave, AM or FM
They haven't contributed to
Or taken from civilization
My words never condemned the wars
The maiming, the raping… the killing
They didn’t participate in the holocaust
They’re alien to Gas Chambers
They know nothing about ethnic cleansing
The mindless bloodletting, or racial profiling
My words never spoke against slavery
They never sang Negro spirituals
They weren’t vocal for civil rights
They never shouted in protests
They never expressed a dream
It wasn’t by any means necessary
My words are not democratic
They’re not part of a majority rule
Neither are they autocratic
They serve no tyrannical whim
My words are not important
They haven’t been read in speeches
Discussed at meetings
Or screamed at rallies
They haven’t been gossiped, whispered,
Proclaimed or passed as law
They’ve not been used in conversation,
Interrogation, information or communication
My words cannot be spoken
My words cannot be written
They cannot be read
They cannot be counted
My words are not vocal
My words are without speech
I have no words to voice
I have no voice for words…
They will not listen anyway
They prefer the sound of their own voices
Well it doesn’t matter anyway…
Because I cannot speak, I am Dumb!
© Tyrone Terrence 1997
Thursday, September 10, 2009
I See You
I don’t know what you see
When you look into my eyes
Neither the things you see
When you search my heart
I doubt if you’re what I see
When I look into yours
Wondering about your smile
And what it portends
I know the things I see
When I look in your eyes
Narrowing to see the look in mine
I am not what you see
When you look at me
Hoping to see what you want to see
You better understand this thing you see
When you look closely, and see me.
© Tyrone Terrence
When you look into my eyes
Neither the things you see
When you search my heart
I doubt if you’re what I see
When I look into yours
Wondering about your smile
And what it portends
I know the things I see
When I look in your eyes
Narrowing to see the look in mine
I am not what you see
When you look at me
Hoping to see what you want to see
You better understand this thing you see
When you look closely, and see me.
© Tyrone Terrence
Saturday, September 5, 2009
One Thousand Me
I’m a man of a thousand parts
Each part is another person
Someone I have surely loved
Someone I have sorely hated
And yet another who passed
Like a ship in the night.
And the total of my being
Is the sum of all of them-
Added together and divided by,
Subtracted from one another,
And multiplied by one thousand.
© Tyrone Terrence
2009
Each part is another person
Someone I have surely loved
Someone I have sorely hated
And yet another who passed
Like a ship in the night.
And the total of my being
Is the sum of all of them-
Added together and divided by,
Subtracted from one another,
And multiplied by one thousand.
© Tyrone Terrence
2009
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Question
Why do you cry
for him who was meant to die?
Why do you mourn,
He should never have been born.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
for him who was meant to die?
Why do you mourn,
He should never have been born.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
Man In Black
Time passes when you're not looking
Sneaky bastard, he sneaks past you.
He lurks in ambush, plotting,
Scheming, he's up to no good
Take heed, look over your shoulder
He swears to catch up with you.
The wind blows, green leaves fall
Hurry home as the night falls
Do you hear footsteps in the dark?
Did the tree sigh as you walked by?
He passes when you're not looking
That man in black- here he comes.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
Sneaky bastard, he sneaks past you.
He lurks in ambush, plotting,
Scheming, he's up to no good
Take heed, look over your shoulder
He swears to catch up with you.
The wind blows, green leaves fall
Hurry home as the night falls
Do you hear footsteps in the dark?
Did the tree sigh as you walked by?
He passes when you're not looking
That man in black- here he comes.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
Remedy
Pass me the pain killer
That bottle of Bacardi
To dull this aching heart
This love is a migraine
(c) Tyrone Terrence
That bottle of Bacardi
To dull this aching heart
This love is a migraine
(c) Tyrone Terrence
Imperfectly Yours
In a perfect world
I'll tell you that I love you.
I'll tell you how beautiful you are;
I will not hesitate to say
how much you mean to me;
Because in a perfect world
there'll be no fear of rejection,
No games... no complications.
But this is not a perfect world,
And I am not a perfect man.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
I'll tell you that I love you.
I'll tell you how beautiful you are;
I will not hesitate to say
how much you mean to me;
Because in a perfect world
there'll be no fear of rejection,
No games... no complications.
But this is not a perfect world,
And I am not a perfect man.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
The Man Died
What happens when a dream dies?
Is there mourning,
Is there a requiem in heaven?
Or somewhere on earth;
In that place where dreams are born?
Are dreams conceived in the human heart?
Are they products of the mind;
the result of some ethereal fire
that burns within us?
Or are they the impossible longings
of an unquenchable spirit?
What happens when a dream is laid to rest-
Unfulfilled, cut short in its prime…
Umbilical chord becoming pallid
dangling impotently from the navel?
Does it feed on its famished soul?
Does it become a nightmare,
a gaping wound… a festering sore
that attracts huge green flies like
the bleeding ears of a mangy, rabid mongrel?
Does it chip away beneath the surface,
Unseen, overlooked by the human eye,
razing slowly, eating away
the life it nurtured for years?
Is it frightful to look upon a dead dream?
Does it keep one awake tossing and turning
till the wee hours of the morning?
And does relief come at dawn
in the realization it was only a dream?
What happens when you kill a dream?
Are you consumed by guilt?
Does the reproach destroy your peace?
Does it haunt you, or make you sober…
unable to eat or drink?
Is it a solemn occasion;
Does it beg a minute’s silence?
Do you fall on your knees and
pray for the repose of its soul?
Or do you wonder if you’re losing your mind
to think that dreams have souls?
Would you laugh at a dead dream?
Or force a smile to shrug off the unease?
Would you wave it aside by the slight of hand?
Or turn away to more important things?
Would you die if you lose your dream?
Would you wither like a beautiful red rose
Severed from the stem, a gift for a lover?
Or would you insist t’was nothing but a dream?
Did you die when your dream died?
Was there a reflection in
the mirror when you walked by?
Like a runaway steam engine
did the coal burn itself out,
grinding your life to a halt?
Did you know you were dead when you died?
Or did the value of the moment sail right by?
And now you look at your headstone and wonder,
When did the decay set in?
(c) Tyrone TerrenceMay 2009
Is there mourning,
Is there a requiem in heaven?
Or somewhere on earth;
In that place where dreams are born?
Are dreams conceived in the human heart?
Are they products of the mind;
the result of some ethereal fire
that burns within us?
Or are they the impossible longings
of an unquenchable spirit?
What happens when a dream is laid to rest-
Unfulfilled, cut short in its prime…
Umbilical chord becoming pallid
dangling impotently from the navel?
Does it feed on its famished soul?
Does it become a nightmare,
a gaping wound… a festering sore
that attracts huge green flies like
the bleeding ears of a mangy, rabid mongrel?
Does it chip away beneath the surface,
Unseen, overlooked by the human eye,
razing slowly, eating away
the life it nurtured for years?
Is it frightful to look upon a dead dream?
Does it keep one awake tossing and turning
till the wee hours of the morning?
And does relief come at dawn
in the realization it was only a dream?
What happens when you kill a dream?
Are you consumed by guilt?
Does the reproach destroy your peace?
Does it haunt you, or make you sober…
unable to eat or drink?
Is it a solemn occasion;
Does it beg a minute’s silence?
Do you fall on your knees and
pray for the repose of its soul?
Or do you wonder if you’re losing your mind
to think that dreams have souls?
Would you laugh at a dead dream?
Or force a smile to shrug off the unease?
Would you wave it aside by the slight of hand?
Or turn away to more important things?
Would you die if you lose your dream?
Would you wither like a beautiful red rose
Severed from the stem, a gift for a lover?
Or would you insist t’was nothing but a dream?
Did you die when your dream died?
Was there a reflection in
the mirror when you walked by?
Like a runaway steam engine
did the coal burn itself out,
grinding your life to a halt?
Did you know you were dead when you died?
Or did the value of the moment sail right by?
And now you look at your headstone and wonder,
When did the decay set in?
(c) Tyrone TerrenceMay 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Side Kick
I live on the Southside
Just along the river side
It’s not far from Pharcyde
It’s a town called the Darkside
It’s not really a bad side
Some think it’s a good side
But a wall divides this side
From the dreams on the other side
Here we weep on the inside
As we smile on the outside
For Life’s hard on the Darkside
For Darkies on the straight side
We’ve got no love for the other side
And expect none from their side
And if you ask me to take sides
I won’t choose that side
For theirs is the upside
There’s bright lights on that side
And the crime wave and homicide
Is not as heavy as this side
Here everyday on our side
You’ll find by the street side
Bodies lying on their side
All victims of homicide
Knew a girl on the Southside
Who lived on the wild side
She was the darling of the wayside
And wanted to flee that poor side
She worked up the roadside
Selling her soul on the side
Sometimes her little girl by her side
Both hooked on the highside
She was charged with Infanticide
For leaving her baby’s side
In grief she took to the deep side
And committed suicide
And there by her grave side
At last by her baby’s side
They planted Lilies on every side
Where they lay side by side
On the stone that marked the head side
Read these words by the grave side
“Here lies a victim of the Darkside
Who lived on the wrong side
She didn’t take to God’s side
So God will be on her side
How could she refuse the Lord’s side
She knew it was the best side
She died by her bedside
Lying naked on her side
Bleeding wrists on each side
Dead eyes staring upside
This beloved of the wayside
With her baby by her side
Lies buried on the hill side
Overlooking the sea side
And as the thief by the Lord’s side
Saw Paradise for choosing the right side
She will find peace inside
For casting her burdens aside.
© Tyrone Terrence 2008
Just along the river side
It’s not far from Pharcyde
It’s a town called the Darkside
It’s not really a bad side
Some think it’s a good side
But a wall divides this side
From the dreams on the other side
Here we weep on the inside
As we smile on the outside
For Life’s hard on the Darkside
For Darkies on the straight side
We’ve got no love for the other side
And expect none from their side
And if you ask me to take sides
I won’t choose that side
For theirs is the upside
There’s bright lights on that side
And the crime wave and homicide
Is not as heavy as this side
Here everyday on our side
You’ll find by the street side
Bodies lying on their side
All victims of homicide
Knew a girl on the Southside
Who lived on the wild side
She was the darling of the wayside
And wanted to flee that poor side
She worked up the roadside
Selling her soul on the side
Sometimes her little girl by her side
Both hooked on the highside
She was charged with Infanticide
For leaving her baby’s side
In grief she took to the deep side
And committed suicide
And there by her grave side
At last by her baby’s side
They planted Lilies on every side
Where they lay side by side
On the stone that marked the head side
Read these words by the grave side
“Here lies a victim of the Darkside
Who lived on the wrong side
She didn’t take to God’s side
So God will be on her side
How could she refuse the Lord’s side
She knew it was the best side
She died by her bedside
Lying naked on her side
Bleeding wrists on each side
Dead eyes staring upside
This beloved of the wayside
With her baby by her side
Lies buried on the hill side
Overlooking the sea side
And as the thief by the Lord’s side
Saw Paradise for choosing the right side
She will find peace inside
For casting her burdens aside.
© Tyrone Terrence 2008
The Best Of You
in the poetry of your smile
i see a glimpse of the infinite
and i just want to look at you
and see the way you're looking at me
then i'll close my eyes as you walk away
and though you're not coming back
i will not hurt... not yet,
cos you gave me the best of you.
i'll always remember what i saw
in your eyes when you looked at me
i'll remember the magic of that first kiss
and the sweet fragrance of you
i'll remember because you touched
the deepest chords within my heart
and provoked in me something so divine
and i'll remember that deep stirring within
as i looked deeply into your eyes
and the way you laughed
until your eyes sparkled like stars
i'll remember because you left
your heartprint on mine...
and you gave me the very best
all the best of you...
(c) Tyrone Terrence
i see a glimpse of the infinite
and i just want to look at you
and see the way you're looking at me
then i'll close my eyes as you walk away
and though you're not coming back
i will not hurt... not yet,
cos you gave me the best of you.
i'll always remember what i saw
in your eyes when you looked at me
i'll remember the magic of that first kiss
and the sweet fragrance of you
i'll remember because you touched
the deepest chords within my heart
and provoked in me something so divine
and i'll remember that deep stirring within
as i looked deeply into your eyes
and the way you laughed
until your eyes sparkled like stars
i'll remember because you left
your heartprint on mine...
and you gave me the very best
all the best of you...
(c) Tyrone Terrence
Debt Burden
Staring… dreamy eyed
Dreaming… starry-eyed
Under this mop of tumbled dreadlocks
Life’s a cell block, no roadblocks…
In my empty mind
Gaping with empty eyes
Burning the white line
Threading the thin line
Between the finger
And the trigger!
My thoughts are enslaved
What must I do to be saved?
I’m the black trash, the street trash,
Dangerous, delirious, gun-totting
Gang banging, indo-smoking killer!
You think I’m in a phase
But tell me who’s in a daze
Blasting to outer space
On a billion dollar rocket ship
Or a one dollar Indo trip!
You think I talk bullshit
But the real shit you don’t know
Who knows…? I don’t know!
But White House fact sheets
And fat World Bank cheats
Label me a burden… a debt burden
And I’m burdened by this shit
Cos this whole shit is bullshit!
And cos I keep saying shit
You label me uncivilized
You’ll have me psycho-analyzed
To see if I’m synchronized
Or should be institutionalized
But I tell you no lies
I hope one day you’ll realize
That your mind has been toasted
Treated and over-heated
By this deadening technocracy
And pseudo-scientific lunacy!
So don’t say I talk bullshit
When my rights and my liberty
When my economic prosperity
Rests on the goodwill of Babylon
Those architects of Armageddon!
Yes I’m not full of shit...
And stop telling me to Shh!
See they polarize world economy
Enforcing my gasterectomy
Eroding my independence
Making me dependent
On humanitarian aid
Inhuman politicized aid
You remember nine-eleven?
And how they tried to get even?
Now they talk about world peace
And a new world order
But the war will not cease
In this comic disorder
Babylon will burn
Lebanon will burn
How can they talk peace
Behind the Prince of peace!
So don’t tell me bullshit
Cos I’m worn-out and stressed out
Spaced out and burned out
By their democratic hypocrisy
That hypocritic democracy
That labels me a burden
A debt burden...
A third world burden
And I’m weighed down by this burden
Bent double by this burden
I’m burdened by this shit
Cos this whole shit is bullshit!
(c) Tyrone Terrence 2008
Dreaming… starry-eyed
Under this mop of tumbled dreadlocks
Life’s a cell block, no roadblocks…
In my empty mind
Gaping with empty eyes
Burning the white line
Threading the thin line
Between the finger
And the trigger!
My thoughts are enslaved
What must I do to be saved?
I’m the black trash, the street trash,
Dangerous, delirious, gun-totting
Gang banging, indo-smoking killer!
You think I’m in a phase
But tell me who’s in a daze
Blasting to outer space
On a billion dollar rocket ship
Or a one dollar Indo trip!
You think I talk bullshit
But the real shit you don’t know
Who knows…? I don’t know!
But White House fact sheets
And fat World Bank cheats
Label me a burden… a debt burden
And I’m burdened by this shit
Cos this whole shit is bullshit!
And cos I keep saying shit
You label me uncivilized
You’ll have me psycho-analyzed
To see if I’m synchronized
Or should be institutionalized
But I tell you no lies
I hope one day you’ll realize
That your mind has been toasted
Treated and over-heated
By this deadening technocracy
And pseudo-scientific lunacy!
So don’t say I talk bullshit
When my rights and my liberty
When my economic prosperity
Rests on the goodwill of Babylon
Those architects of Armageddon!
Yes I’m not full of shit...
And stop telling me to Shh!
See they polarize world economy
Enforcing my gasterectomy
Eroding my independence
Making me dependent
On humanitarian aid
Inhuman politicized aid
You remember nine-eleven?
And how they tried to get even?
Now they talk about world peace
And a new world order
But the war will not cease
In this comic disorder
Babylon will burn
Lebanon will burn
How can they talk peace
Behind the Prince of peace!
So don’t tell me bullshit
Cos I’m worn-out and stressed out
Spaced out and burned out
By their democratic hypocrisy
That hypocritic democracy
That labels me a burden
A debt burden...
A third world burden
And I’m weighed down by this burden
Bent double by this burden
I’m burdened by this shit
Cos this whole shit is bullshit!
(c) Tyrone Terrence 2008
Missing Person
God left Africa on a slave ship years ago
And He hasn’t come back since
He left behind vast green pastures
His orchards and pineapple fields
Little Hannibal was but a suckling baby
And Nefertiti was yet to be queen
Did he survive the middle passage;
Shackled and starved, the whipping,
Or did he arrive covered in sores?
I hope they respected who he was
That he wasn’t sold for a few pennies
Stripped of his dignity on the auction block
Examining his teeth like a pedigree horse
While well-bred ladies blushed at his majesty
And which Massa found him worth the price
And carted him away to his plantation
To work the fields for Massa’s economy
And sire his Massa’s dwindling colony
How many of his children did he see grow?
How many were sold off before his eyes?
Did he live a fulfilled peaceful life;
Or did he die at the ripe age of twenty-one?
If only they knew who he was
And let him be, to graze his cattle in the savannah
And cultivate his cassava and cocoyam fields
And watch little Hannibal become a warrior
And live out the fullness of his life
In the bosom of Nefertiti
If only they knew who he was
And let him be to farm his land.
God left Africa many years ago
And we have not seen him since
© Tyrone Terrence
And He hasn’t come back since
He left behind vast green pastures
His orchards and pineapple fields
Little Hannibal was but a suckling baby
And Nefertiti was yet to be queen
Did he survive the middle passage;
Shackled and starved, the whipping,
Or did he arrive covered in sores?
I hope they respected who he was
That he wasn’t sold for a few pennies
Stripped of his dignity on the auction block
Examining his teeth like a pedigree horse
While well-bred ladies blushed at his majesty
And which Massa found him worth the price
And carted him away to his plantation
To work the fields for Massa’s economy
And sire his Massa’s dwindling colony
How many of his children did he see grow?
How many were sold off before his eyes?
Did he live a fulfilled peaceful life;
Or did he die at the ripe age of twenty-one?
If only they knew who he was
And let him be, to graze his cattle in the savannah
And cultivate his cassava and cocoyam fields
And watch little Hannibal become a warrior
And live out the fullness of his life
In the bosom of Nefertiti
If only they knew who he was
And let him be to farm his land.
God left Africa many years ago
And we have not seen him since
© Tyrone Terrence
Argument
After a war of words
And a mouthful of arguments
The sun finally admitted
That he was just a shadow
When he stood next to me!
(c) Tyrone Terrence
And a mouthful of arguments
The sun finally admitted
That he was just a shadow
When he stood next to me!
(c) Tyrone Terrence
Kiss From An Ivy
Though yours be the poisoned kiss
I'd drink a thousand times from your lips
And having you'll be my greed
My love, a shadow of tragic need
Though yours'll be my last kiss
I'll not deny myself the bliss
Slain by love and into the pit
I'll go to hell and pay for it
(c) Tyrone Terrence 2008
I'd drink a thousand times from your lips
And having you'll be my greed
My love, a shadow of tragic need
Though yours'll be my last kiss
I'll not deny myself the bliss
Slain by love and into the pit
I'll go to hell and pay for it
(c) Tyrone Terrence 2008
Morning Prayer
The sky is blue and the grass is green
The morning sun is beautiful and warm
Thank you God for another chance
I'll try not to step on a land mine today
(c) Tyrone Terrence
The morning sun is beautiful and warm
Thank you God for another chance
I'll try not to step on a land mine today
(c) Tyrone Terrence
Star Struck
You best not mess with me
Or I’ll mash you for meat
I will back slap yo’ face
Push you outta this space
I will burn through you like a laser
Science fiction beating you must get
I’ll be Star Trekking all over you
Mashing up yo’ galaxy, yo' milky way,
Wrecking events in yo’ horizon
It gone be a Star War Trilogy son,
A Challenger explosion
Scientific commotion...
Disappear like the Fourteen-hundred
To where no man has gone before
So you best not mess with me son,
Or I’ll mash you for meat, and eat!
(c) Tyrone Terrence 2008
Or I’ll mash you for meat
I will back slap yo’ face
Push you outta this space
I will burn through you like a laser
Science fiction beating you must get
I’ll be Star Trekking all over you
Mashing up yo’ galaxy, yo' milky way,
Wrecking events in yo’ horizon
It gone be a Star War Trilogy son,
A Challenger explosion
Scientific commotion...
Disappear like the Fourteen-hundred
To where no man has gone before
So you best not mess with me son,
Or I’ll mash you for meat, and eat!
(c) Tyrone Terrence 2008
On Knowing
What do you know
That I don’t know?
About life after death
Or life before birth?
Do you know anything
That I’m yet to know?
You know where you’ll go
When life says no?
When green leaves fall
And shadows grow tall?
Do you know the end
And what it’ll portend-
Judgments and condemnation
Lakes of fire and damnation
You better un-know
What you think you know
T’will only bring you sorrow
T'will kill all your tomorrow
© Tyrone Terrence
That I don’t know?
About life after death
Or life before birth?
Do you know anything
That I’m yet to know?
You know where you’ll go
When life says no?
When green leaves fall
And shadows grow tall?
Do you know the end
And what it’ll portend-
Judgments and condemnation
Lakes of fire and damnation
You better un-know
What you think you know
T’will only bring you sorrow
T'will kill all your tomorrow
© Tyrone Terrence
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
My Whys
Some things you can’t understand
Why the light in my eyes glow
When I see the yellow moon in throes
Of lunar ecstasies...
Why I quicken my steps when I
See the shadows lengthening,
Hollow Shapes portending woes,
Phantoms and fantasies...
Some things you can’t understand
Where we live, how we live, why we live
What we live on...
Condemned to quench our thirst
With our sweat and tears
Banishing our fears for the unknown
As we move on...
Some things I can’t understand
Why I am here... doing here... why here
In this corner so far
Looking up to Jah
All praises to Allah!
Some things I can’t understand,
These things I will never understand.
© Tyrone Terrence 2008
Why the light in my eyes glow
When I see the yellow moon in throes
Of lunar ecstasies...
Why I quicken my steps when I
See the shadows lengthening,
Hollow Shapes portending woes,
Phantoms and fantasies...
Some things you can’t understand
Where we live, how we live, why we live
What we live on...
Condemned to quench our thirst
With our sweat and tears
Banishing our fears for the unknown
As we move on...
Some things I can’t understand
Why I am here... doing here... why here
In this corner so far
Looking up to Jah
All praises to Allah!
Some things I can’t understand,
These things I will never understand.
© Tyrone Terrence 2008
Ships That Pass
"Who am I to you?" she asks.
And I'm afraid to answer,
Too afraid to tell the truth-
She's a ship passing in the night.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
2008
And I'm afraid to answer,
Too afraid to tell the truth-
She's a ship passing in the night.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
2008
Neo-Auschwitz
They have a million surrounded,
American-Equipped, in for the kill
Supported by a mean air assault
Let the world stand and watch
And engage in hollow diplomacy
The sight of dead little girls in
deep freezers will not upset us
It's only the latest episode
of an old action drama on cnn
So kill them all, each one and all,
every man woman and child;
Let Gaza become Auschwitz,
Rwanda, let it be Darfur
The world likes watching
So let the world stand and watch
As Gaza burns to the ground
Then Israel will finally have peace,
That deafening peace of the grave.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
Jan 2009
American-Equipped, in for the kill
Supported by a mean air assault
Let the world stand and watch
And engage in hollow diplomacy
The sight of dead little girls in
deep freezers will not upset us
It's only the latest episode
of an old action drama on cnn
So kill them all, each one and all,
every man woman and child;
Let Gaza become Auschwitz,
Rwanda, let it be Darfur
The world likes watching
So let the world stand and watch
As Gaza burns to the ground
Then Israel will finally have peace,
That deafening peace of the grave.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
Jan 2009
The Murder Of Mrs Jones
Not guilty, he pleads now
Now he can plead
Not then, he ignored her pleas
Deaf to her appeals
A man possessed
Devoured by vice
Caught in the grip of insanity
Eaten by the worms of hatred
Consumed by something vile
Mouth dripping with slime
A rabid dog...
Deaf to the cries of anguish
Possessed by a mind incapable of
Comprehending the value of mercy
A tortured soul…
Cain consumed by rage
Seeking the blood of his brother
I look at him in the dock
What is sadder than the face
Of a murderous man
Seized by the tremour
Of a murderous rage…
His body wracked by the urgency
Of a hellish ambition?
What is sadder than
The voice that trembles,
The lips that twist,
The knees that buckle,
The eyes that bleed,
The hands that shake
Those hands that strike
Again and again...
Dripping with blood.
What is sadder than
The sight of a man
Possessed by the need
To harm a woman?
Not guilty, he pleads now,
Now he can plead.
Not then, he ignored her pleas
Deaf to her appeals…
And so I call the only witness-
Little Miss Jones, crying,
Hiding in the closet, confused,
Watching her beloved father
Murder her beloved mother.
© Tyrone Terrence 2008
Inspired by true events-
Courtesy of the Crime & Investigation Network
Now he can plead
Not then, he ignored her pleas
Deaf to her appeals
A man possessed
Devoured by vice
Caught in the grip of insanity
Eaten by the worms of hatred
Consumed by something vile
Mouth dripping with slime
A rabid dog...
Deaf to the cries of anguish
Possessed by a mind incapable of
Comprehending the value of mercy
A tortured soul…
Cain consumed by rage
Seeking the blood of his brother
I look at him in the dock
What is sadder than the face
Of a murderous man
Seized by the tremour
Of a murderous rage…
His body wracked by the urgency
Of a hellish ambition?
What is sadder than
The voice that trembles,
The lips that twist,
The knees that buckle,
The eyes that bleed,
The hands that shake
Those hands that strike
Again and again...
Dripping with blood.
What is sadder than
The sight of a man
Possessed by the need
To harm a woman?
Not guilty, he pleads now,
Now he can plead.
Not then, he ignored her pleas
Deaf to her appeals…
And so I call the only witness-
Little Miss Jones, crying,
Hiding in the closet, confused,
Watching her beloved father
Murder her beloved mother.
© Tyrone Terrence 2008
Inspired by true events-
Courtesy of the Crime & Investigation Network
Death In The Night
The windows rattle in the night
The children scream in fright
Death falls in a flash of light
This morning will bring mourning.
Ask not for whom the bell tolls
Ask not for whom the bombs fall
The bell tolls anyhow
The bombs fall even now
Heralding processions in black
Protesters burning flags
Anger seething across the globe
Impotent anger, without hope;
So we march side by side
Protesters and mourners
Mourners protesting
Walking the road less travelled
Now the road often travelled
We go to the Children’s Cemetery.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
Jan 2009
The children scream in fright
Death falls in a flash of light
This morning will bring mourning.
Ask not for whom the bell tolls
Ask not for whom the bombs fall
The bell tolls anyhow
The bombs fall even now
Heralding processions in black
Protesters burning flags
Anger seething across the globe
Impotent anger, without hope;
So we march side by side
Protesters and mourners
Mourners protesting
Walking the road less travelled
Now the road often travelled
We go to the Children’s Cemetery.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
Jan 2009
Junkie
Music is my weed
My dope;
The cure for my grief
My hope;
The irresistable temptation
That slips the poisoned needle
Into my soul...
And I'm lost in wonder
My soul and music
Sweating bodies in tango
Coupling... fucking...
Ecstacies and climaxes
Deep sighs and melodies
Then sated we hear the music
again and again... and again...
We are junkies on dope;
And music is our coke.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
2008
My dope;
The cure for my grief
My hope;
The irresistable temptation
That slips the poisoned needle
Into my soul...
And I'm lost in wonder
My soul and music
Sweating bodies in tango
Coupling... fucking...
Ecstacies and climaxes
Deep sighs and melodies
Then sated we hear the music
again and again... and again...
We are junkies on dope;
And music is our coke.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
2008
Computer Smile
She knows she's beautiful.
She does not know yet
what to do with her beauty;
And so she teases me...
And goads me,
And lures the beast in me.
With sultry lips and daring smiles
She plays the ancient game
Delilah played before;
And I gasp for breath,
As I drown in her eyes,
Sinking deep into the waters
of her cold beautiful eyes
As she stares back at me
From my facebook screen.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
2008
She does not know yet
what to do with her beauty;
And so she teases me...
And goads me,
And lures the beast in me.
With sultry lips and daring smiles
She plays the ancient game
Delilah played before;
And I gasp for breath,
As I drown in her eyes,
Sinking deep into the waters
of her cold beautiful eyes
As she stares back at me
From my facebook screen.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
2008
A Spider's Gift
Before I died I saw a fly, and a spider.
The fly perched over my glassy eye
He washed his hands, free of guilt
And wished me well, he said goodbye.
The spider wove a web, a silky yarn
Supple swaddling for my bleeding bed.
Before I died I saw a fly, and a spider,
And they fought over my bloody clothes.
© Tyrone Terrence
29/05/2009
The fly perched over my glassy eye
He washed his hands, free of guilt
And wished me well, he said goodbye.
The spider wove a web, a silky yarn
Supple swaddling for my bleeding bed.
Before I died I saw a fly, and a spider,
And they fought over my bloody clothes.
© Tyrone Terrence
29/05/2009
A Poet In Love
in the throes of this carnal ritual
as I braced to take the sweet plunge
she opened her eyes and looked into mine
" do you love me?" she asked.
and suspended in agony, I answered-
" i am a poet my dear,
i fall in love every hour, of every day,
there is so much beauty in the world
i am looking at you now, at this hour,
and I think I'm in love again.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
as I braced to take the sweet plunge
she opened her eyes and looked into mine
" do you love me?" she asked.
and suspended in agony, I answered-
" i am a poet my dear,
i fall in love every hour, of every day,
there is so much beauty in the world
i am looking at you now, at this hour,
and I think I'm in love again.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
Night Thoughts
Last night I thought about suicide
And I laughed, it being so ridiculous
This night the thought will come again
And I won’t be able to afford a smile
© Tyrone Terrence
And I laughed, it being so ridiculous
This night the thought will come again
And I won’t be able to afford a smile
© Tyrone Terrence
Made In China
You think you understand
When you feel this heart beating
Your face lights up a smile
You think it's beating for you
Not all broken hearts keep on beating
Some are thrown away, replaced,
Discarded for newer models
With longer life waranty
Some are traded in for mended ones
Second-hand models with lower mileage
Like this one that you feel beating
With your happy head on my chest
It was cheap, a real bargain,
Made in China, Shanghai, I think
It's a prototype model, brand new
Hard and durable, it's made of stone.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
June 27th, 2009
When you feel this heart beating
Your face lights up a smile
You think it's beating for you
Not all broken hearts keep on beating
Some are thrown away, replaced,
Discarded for newer models
With longer life waranty
Some are traded in for mended ones
Second-hand models with lower mileage
Like this one that you feel beating
With your happy head on my chest
It was cheap, a real bargain,
Made in China, Shanghai, I think
It's a prototype model, brand new
Hard and durable, it's made of stone.
(c) Tyrone Terrence
June 27th, 2009
One-Legged Ghost
Jack was a one-armed bandit
Who run a one man business
He bought one horse
And rode into One-Horse Town
His one liners got the girls laughing
And one by one he stole their virtues
He run into a one man band
Led by a woman, funny that,
They had a one night stand
It was a one off, then he rode off
And she became a one-parent family.
Jack made one stop
To rob a One-Stop shop
He brought out his gun
And took a shot in the shop
But Fate was laughing at Jack
Watching him in a one-way mirror
He had no idea this was a trap
Because one sheriff was about
Who heard that one shot
He crouched, and did a one-two
And fired one deadly shot
Straight up Jack’s lonely heart
Now this one horse town
Was haunted by a one-legged ghost
The leader of the one man band
Who now run a one parent family
Complained that her daughter Jackie
Had seen this one legged spirit
And sore afraid, this one horse town
Set about to catch a ghost
They called in one medium
And one priest who laid the trap
The trap caught Jack
And this baffled the whole town
How a one-armed bandit
Became a one-legged ghost
© Tyrone Terrence
From Silly Poems
Who run a one man business
He bought one horse
And rode into One-Horse Town
His one liners got the girls laughing
And one by one he stole their virtues
He run into a one man band
Led by a woman, funny that,
They had a one night stand
It was a one off, then he rode off
And she became a one-parent family.
Jack made one stop
To rob a One-Stop shop
He brought out his gun
And took a shot in the shop
But Fate was laughing at Jack
Watching him in a one-way mirror
He had no idea this was a trap
Because one sheriff was about
Who heard that one shot
He crouched, and did a one-two
And fired one deadly shot
Straight up Jack’s lonely heart
Now this one horse town
Was haunted by a one-legged ghost
The leader of the one man band
Who now run a one parent family
Complained that her daughter Jackie
Had seen this one legged spirit
And sore afraid, this one horse town
Set about to catch a ghost
They called in one medium
And one priest who laid the trap
The trap caught Jack
And this baffled the whole town
How a one-armed bandit
Became a one-legged ghost
© Tyrone Terrence
From Silly Poems
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