Tag: isiah

by ISIAH

The soles of my feet,
The foundation on which we lay.
Every time we stand up, we need that support so we don’t sway.
It’s the curve of the arc or the flatness of our heel.
We need it because without it we must stay still.
And if you don’t get it, try to stand up without your feet.
It’s impossible; it’s like tryna live without your heartbeat,
And it’s essential. Even the little toe matters.
Even though he’s the smallest, he’s the only one tryna get better.
And you better treat them right,
Or they’re gonna fall off when they hit the bone-chillin weather.
But it’s your decision whether or not you praise them.
But every curve of our existence
Is represented on our feet.
I think I found the eighth wonder of the world, cuz
That’s an amazing sight to see.

by ISIAH

The things that we have and aren’t willing to share,
Whether we’re obsessed with,
And without it, we couldn’t bear.
In the study of human nature,
You learn about OCD.
Like if you lost something dear to you,
You will crave for that affection constantly.
Or it could be something simple.
A bed, a toilet, a flat-screen TV. And,
The average materialistic man couldn’t live without it,
Once exposed to it.
Once placed in your presence
You can start to watch a soul lift.
It’s common sense,
Because everyone is emotionally distraught.
We were bound to it,
Whatever we got.
That’s the inner sanctum that keeps you alive,
And without those items,
It’s Russian Roulette; it’s do or die.
So go, surround yourself with those items
And pound yourself if you live without them.
Cuz in reality, we’re all OCD.
And if you were a radio,
Well you’ll just be stuck on a certain frequency.

by ISIAH

Unspecified details,
Just a small stick figure,
Draws in attention, and by the second
It seems to get thinner.
But what remains is the tiny little head.
Insert your emotions into the blank facial expressions
And create the unsaid.
The happy, mad, sad, glad.
Hands the size of breadcrumbs
And feet flat as a straight line drawn.
Where’s the heart and the stomach
And the soul given for purpose.
Invest time and attention into the little man.
He’ll become something he wasn’t noticing.
It probably wasn’t a bread crumb,
Rather a piece of sand.
So don’t judge what you can’t see
Because you can’t even tell if this is a woman or a man.

by ISIAH

People live on a krutch which goes thud, thud, thud,
Because we’re weak in the knees and our backs are twisted.
That thud, thud, thud supports us as our cradle of life, it’s the
constant protection that bounds most men from being different
and imaginative.

That krutch could be a heartbeat going thud, thud, thud,
or love to another person, or fear of an unknown entity.
But God forbid, can we journey our and create a thud, thud, thud for ourselves?
We cant because we’re on a krutch that goes thud, thud, thud.
That’s not my thud, thud, thud, everyone has their morals and based on that
we have our ideals, yet we are too stuck on other’s ideals to create our own
ideas.

Thud, thud, thud.
My thud, thud, thud is different,
It’s a mixture, between the thirst for knowledge, the reason why we
exist. How my digestive system works or how dangerous syphilis is.

This is my thud, thud, thud.
And now, it’s in control
and it plans for its goals, because goals without plans are wishes.
My thud, thud, thud, is the difference between making love and just getting kisses
because  it always craves for more and more, and a little bit more.

Now, just ask yourself…what is my thud, thud, thud?

by ISIAH

Glistening in the dark,
the fragrance in the air,
the chants of protestors as people become aware.
Problems at their pinnacle,
creak tremulous souls,
which gives power to the majestic
in hopes of enchanting mercy on those who atoned.
To all the hate and no grace in their lives,
in a rendezvous with happiness, completion is a chime.
No one is the same,
no funeral of these days.
No Satan to these days, unless you change your ways.
So…
Don’t risk that bird in one hand for the two in the bush.
For greatness is a vision but happiness is a must.