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Creative Writing - black poetry Questions



Question #1:

Teen room ideas/themes?? Please Help!?

Okay, I love writing poetry and reading. I'd like to know how to make a peaceful room, but not so that its weird looking. What colors would fit? What decor? Oh and I'm a girl..
I also love pictures of black skylines against a sunset, and black trees against a sunset :]

Question #2:

Who is a legend in the Rap/Hip-Hop game?

In my opinion Tupac because he kept it real and his poetry was very intellectual and he rapped about all the dilemma's and crisis in the Black community. I really RESPECT him.

Question #3:

Who has the BIGGEST collection of Psychopathic Records I have 25gigs?

Here is a list of ALL I have.

2 dirte
dirt poor

2 KRazie Devils
Flipped Insanity

ABK
Dirty History
Hatchet Warrior
Hey Ya'll Single
Mudface
Road Fools E.P

AMB
Blood In Blood Out
Downlow
Gods Hand
How far will i go
rare stuff
The Unforgiven Forest
Underdogs E.P
underdogz
Unforgiven Forest Sampler

AVI'S&DVD'S
(Anaglyph 3D Stereo R-B Glasses) Bowling Balls (Insane Clown Posse)
A.Family.Underground.2009.
Hatchet Attacks
Insane Clown Posse vs Slipknot & Coal Chamber 1999
Insane Clown Posse - Shockumentary
Insane Clown Posse - Six Jokerz Unauthorized
Insane Clown Posse on Howard Stern (2006-09-25)
PSYCHOPATHIC VIDEOS DVD
ICP MTV Commercial

Blaze Ya Dead Homie
1 Less G In Da Hood
1 Less G In Da Hood (Deluxe G Edition)
blaze e.p
Clockwork Grey
Colton Grundy
Prepare For Tha Undying One E.P

Boondox
Krimson Creek
Punkinhed (Parental Advisory)
S.H.I
The Harvest
Turn Coat Dirty

Dark Lotus
Black Rain
Black Rain [2004]
Echoside
swarm ep
Tales From The Lotus Pod
Tales From The Lotus Pod (Revisited)
Wikedest slits

DJ Clay - Let 'Em Bleed- The Mixxtape Vol. 1
dj papsta presents psychopathic remixes
Drive By

Esham
A1 Yola
a4. dead flowerz
a5. mail dominance
Acid Rain
bootleg (from the lost vault) vol. 1
bruce wayne gothom 1987 [1997]
Closed Casket
erotic poetry ep
esham & abk - live @ hallowicked 2004
helterskkkelter (single) [1993]
homey don't play e.p [1991]
In Detroit CDS
judgement day vol. 1 (day)
judgement day vol. 2 (night)
kkkill the fetus
live @ fox theatre
live @ gathering of the juggalos 04
live @ todd's in 1991
live at clifton park
maggot brain theory e.p [1994]
repentance
tongues

Fall Guy
apocalypse 6t7 [2004]
fall guy ep
trapped inside

golden goldies - cue stick in your fuckin' eye tour

Haystak
B.O.S.S. The Mixtape Vol. 1
Crackavelli Disc 1
Crackavelli Disc 2
From Start To Finish
Mak Million
Return Of The Mak Million
The Natural 192k - D+KY
The New South
Portrait of a White Boy

House Of Krazees
collectors edition 97(2)
homebound
outbreed
Season Of The Pumpkin (2004 Re-issue)
season of the pumpkin (retro horror muzik version)
season of the pumpkin (latnem version)

Insane Clown Posse
[1995] chicken huntin 2 track sampler tape
[1995] chicken huntin 12 promo vinyl
Bang Pow Boom (Red)
Bassment Cuts
Beverly Kills 50187
Big Money Hustlas (Sound Track)
Bizaar 1
Bizaar 2
Bowling Balls CDS
Carnival Christmas '94
Carnival Of Carnage
Chicken Huntin Maxi Single
Dog Beats
Forgotten Freshness - Volume 1
Forgotten Freshness - Volume 2
Forgotten Freshness - Volume 3
Forgotten Freshness - Volume 4
Hallowicked
Hallowicked 2002
Halls
Ok so I know there music is a LIKE/HATE thing so if you don't like it please don't respond.

P.S. By the way they are a MULTI-PLATNUM selling group.

Question #4:

How do i get people to stop calling an emo or a goth?

everyone who meets me asks me if im goth, then im like "no" then they ask me if im emo but im not.
its really starting to annoy me and i wanna make it stop, so heres some things about me.

i like to play video games, my favorites Sonic.
i like dying my hair colors like pink and purple
i wear combat boots
i like to read poetry like edgar allen poe
my favorite movie is kill bill
my favorite tv/web show is happy tree friends
i wear lots of black with some neon colors
i like to wear spikes
i DO NOT cut myself
my favorite clothing is Abbey Dawn by Avril Lavigne
my favorite band is Green Day
my Favorite singer is Avril Lavigne
i have lots of friends.

do i sound like an emo or goth, and please be honest.
i do not want to be goth or emo, because i think they are weird and depressing.
ok, sorry i didnt mean goths are weird and depressing i only meant to put emos.

Question #5:

Poem, read if you wish?

I know there is a poetry section.
But I hate having to wait so long for very few comments
So I returned to P&S my home
=P

Nightskies and lullabies

Whisper softly and pull me away
Take me into the night
Hold me closely and there we'll stay
Never returning to the light

Fly with me through the black abyss
Never let me go
Pull me into our fatal kiss
We'll never be alone

Sing me to sleep as I lie in your arms
Listen to me breathe
Enchant me with your devilish charm
Each other is all we need

The day will come when we must part
Not for too long I hope
I pray that I shall stay in your heart
Because I'll never let you go

Comment and I'll love you forever♥

Question #6:

re-post: Mystery unfolds in Y/A poetry section...any comments/critiques welcomed?

Skinny acid-wash jeans
calf high black leather boots
with five inch heels
slender body stacked for attention
dark brown hair that frames
her high cheek-boned face
Emerald eyes that sparkle
long black London Fog (coat)
mystery circumvents every step she takes
A smile that draws you near
FEAR: CHILLS

she carries a gun
smoldering from recent use
her eyes turn cold
(even a Marine would shudder)
a body lies in the shadows
is it someone we know?
a poet: a critic who
spews vile at everyone...
WHO?!

this beauty of a girl
who is she, where did she come from?
ice must run through her veins
Beware! she is turning her glare
...
BG--gotta love them German dudes! people are a thinkin SHE is me...nopes..she is a mystery person...

Question #7:

im not that great with poetry but could you people review it or what ever?

im not sure if its a naritive or just free verse but uh...ya

Bill was a little pudgy
With one eye lower than the other
A bony toe
And lips like paper, then comes the medical jockey
Scalpels, needles, collagen, long thin tubes, tiny cameras,
Heart rate monitors, TV monitors and what looked like a power drill
Combined to create media influenced perfection
For now the surgeon’s job is done
For now Bill is satisfied
He is Hollywood perfection
A reflection of what people want to be
His friends said he looked great
He said he looked alright
Weeks later he looks in the mirror, but all he sees is a monstrosity
From fat thighs, elephant like ears, and black holes for nostrils
Time for another appointment with Dr. Victor Frankenstein
Scalpels, needles, collagen, long thin tubes, tiny cameras,
Heart rate monitors, TV monitors, and what looked like a power drill
Combined trying and failing to create media influenced perfection
His surgeries are done
Bill is a plastic man
Grotesque and looks nothing like his original self
Like a clown his face now scares small children
He looks more like a Hasbro action figure than a human
Bill was a little pudgy
But now he’s quite ugly
The irony is insane
How he searches for a body chiseled from stone
But then his need to be a never dying beauty certainly drove him off the deep end
Searching for surgery as if he was a car always needing new parts
But oh he’s not alone
Because in Hollywood it’s becoming a trend
Bill is a plastic man

Question #8:

Could someone help me with a poetry analysis for Margaret Atwoods "February"?

I have to write a poetry analysis/interpretation essay on Margaret Atwood's "February" I am so confused right now and have no idea.

Winter. Time to eat fat
and watch hockey. In the pewter mornings, the cat,
a black fur sausage with yellow
Houdini eyes, jumps up on the bed and tries
to get onto my head. It’s his
way of telling whether or not I’m dead.
If I’m not, he wants to be scratched; if I am
He’ll think of something. He settles
on my chest, breathing his breath
of burped-up meat and musty sofas,
purring like a washboard. Some other tomcat,
not yet a capon, has been spraying our front door,
declaring war. It’s all about sex and territory,
which are what will finish us off
in the long run. Some cat owners around here
should snip a few testicles. If we wise
hominids were sensible, we’d do that too,
or eat our young, like sharks.
But it’s love that does us in. Over and over
again, He shoots, he scores! and famine
crouches in the bedsheets, ambushing the pulsing
eiderdown, and the windchill factor hits
thirty below, and pollution pours
out of our chimneys to keep us warm.
February, month of despair,
with a skewered heart in the centre.
I think dire thoughts, and lust for French fries
with a splash of vinegar.
Cat, enough of your greedy whining
and your small pink bumhole.
Off my face! You’re the life principle,
more or less, so get going
on a little optimism around here.
Get rid of death. Celebrate increase. Make it be spring.

Question #9:

What do you think of my poem? (it's short, please answer)?

. i usually just write some cheesy rhyming poem...but now i'm trying to improve in this type of poetry... i apologize if it's horribly written.. i'm only 14, and not experienced at all in writting... any tips on how to improve the poem, as well as title suggestions would be very much appreciated:)

I feel the frigid steel
scamper freely down my arm
the transgression of veins
leave streams of scarlet
all uniting together
in a puddle
on the black-tiled floor

The teardrop
catches on my closed lash
then falls down
the flushed plane of my cheek
leaving a black trail of mascara
contrasting darkly
with my ashen skin

The silence pierces my ears
my eyes continue their water bleeding
I can taste my salty tearsdrops
smearing my blood all over the walls
I’m the quietest form of rebel

**sighs** .. i've posted this many times.. but have only gotten a few suggestions and feedback... i apologize if i'm getting annoying with the posts... i just really want lots of constructive critisism...

Question #10:

What do you think of my poem (suggestions for title+suggestions to improve it)?

.. i usually just write some cheesy rhyming poem...but now i'm trying to improve in this type of poetry... i apologize if it's horribly written.. i'm only 14, and not experienced at all in writting... any tips on how to improve the poem, as well as title suggestions would be very much appreciated:)

I feel the frigid steel
scamper freely down my arm
the transgression of veins
leave streams of scarlet
all uniting together
in a puddle
on the black-tiled floor

The teardrop
catches on my closed lash
then falls down
the flushed plane of my cheek
leaving a black trail of mascara
contrasting darkly
with my ashen skin

The silence pierces my ears
my eyes continue their water bleeding
I can taste my salty tearsdrops
smearing my blood all over the walls
I’m the quietest form of rebel

*sighs* ...okay... i've posted this three times so far... but i haven't rlly gotten any constructive critisism on how to polish it up... any suggestions???

Question #11:

Can you explain to me what this poet is explaining throughout this poem, im not understanding everything?

Besides the obvious technological and architectural advances, only one thing has really changed between our generations:



We now live in an America where blacks are not only allowed the right to vote but can become the Redeemer President of the United States



Otherwise, we still live in an America where the audacity to openly enjoy the pleasures of sex and being respected for wisdom are contradictions without reconciliation



We still live in an America where the economy collapses while the masses are consumed with preventing the rights of anyone with a fancy for anything out of the ordinary



We still live in an America where rotting leaves, tufts of straw, and debris are found in more homes than poetry books



We still live in an America where Christ and Dracula provide both excitement and fear for restless lives longing for a simple touch



We still live in an America where the impact of urbanization reaches out to the common person more than the obscene nature of poetry



We still live in an America where writing about prostitution is considered trashy and profane



We still live in an America where poets have to work while publishing to survive financial difficulty unless they are fashioned like Shakespeare



We still live in an America where, unless you belong to a church, you are a religious skeptic believing in nothing



We still live in an America where overt sexuality, siding with the barnburners, and authoring disreputable books limit poets to a vagabond lifestyle



We still live in an America where breaking tradition and the boundaries of poetic form are considered the trademarks of a pretentious ass



We still live in an America where everything from thieves to dwarfs to fog to beetles deserve validity



We still live in an America where books cannot prevent war and the sick and wounded need healing



We still live in an America where not everyone can appreciate the beauty of immigration, crowded streets, brutal differences, urban affection



We still live in an America where the same sun that once invigorated your passion continues to provide us with the beauty of life worth fighting for



We still live in an America where America still lives in us

Question #12:

What do you think of my poem? (please answer)?

.. i usually just write some cheesy rhyming poem...but now i'm trying to improve in this type of poetry... i apologize if it's horribly written.. i'm only 14, and not experienced at all in writting... any tips on how to improve the poem, as well as title suggestions would be very much appreciated:)

I feel the frigid steel
scamper freely down my arm
the transgression of veins
leave streams of scarlet
all uniting together
in a puddle
on the black-tiled floor

The teardrop
catches on my closed lash
then falls down
the flushed plane of my cheek
leaving a black trail of mascara
contrasting darkly
with my ashen skin

The silence pierces through my ears
I taste my salty teardrops
smearing my blood all over the walls
I’m the quietest form of rebel


**i already posted this.. like 5 hours ago.. but got no feedback**
.. *sighs* .. then i posted it again... and only got t 1 answer...so here it is again....

Question #13:

What do you think of my poem?

.. i usually just write some cheesy rhyming poem...but now i'm trying to improve in this type of poetry... i apologize if it's horribly written.. i'm only 14, and not experienced at all in writting... any tips on how to improve the poem, as well as title suggestions would be very much appreciated:)

I feel the frigid steel
scamper freely down my arm
the transgression of veins
leave streams of scarlet
all uniting together
in a puddle
on the black-tiled floor

The teardrop
catches on my closed lash
then falls down
the flushed plane of my cheek
leaving a black trail of mascara
contrasting darkly
with my ashen skin

The silence pierces through my ears
I taste my salty teardrops
smearing my blood all over the walls
I’m the quietest form of rebel


**i already posted this.. like 5 hours ago.. but got no feedback**

Question #14:

Critique my poem? "Writing Blind"?

I think this is one of my first poems that i don't have every line ryhming. I did this for homework a while back but i really want to improve it.

Poet’s true thoughts.

Though black and white:

Heart wrenching lies,

Battlefield fights,

Emotional highs.

This is an unannounced escape.

Where creativity can fly.

When all else seems grey,

Words come into play; and

Hence the guarantee.

From dullness comes light.

Embedded in colorful hues

This is when one comprehends

Poetry has no ends.

Question #15:

where are all the Black Lesbians thirty & Above?

Hello I am a 36 year old Afro American Lesbian Entrepreneur residing in the Inland Empire...I'm looking to start a lesbian group of Educated,down to earth women who love Poetry,Books,Entertainment,good food,stimulating conversation,travel & a great genuine friendship, no drama, baggage,,just plain honesty and fun!!! If you can handle that....Lets be Friends!!!!!! Married Lesbian Couples encouraged to respond!!!!

Question #16:

poetry...i'd like opinions?

Liar:

Are we made of lies?
Hearts molded from dirty clay
By cold, careless hands

Bleeding ignorance
Like black ink upon white skin
Our souls can’t be washed

Your words are but butterflies
Fluttering around the truth



--
oh, the hypocricy...
thoughts? comments?

Question #17:

Do you think these are good poems?

Ok, Which poem is your favorite. Why? Do you not like one? If not why? How can I fix these? What do you think about them because I am very interested in poetry and I want to improve my skills.

Poem 1:
That Feeling

My heart is racing,
My heart is pounding.
When I saw him that day,
My stomach dropped.
My throat closed in,
I couldn't breath.
My eyes went black,
I couldn't see.
I was confused,
So overwhelmed,
About everything,
Everything about him.
When I see him,
I can't stop smiling.
But pain comes,
It comes and takes the joy away.
When I see him,
I feel like I was stabbed,
Like I was made of glass,
and little boys threw rocks at me,
and broke me,
and shattered my dreams.
This pain I feel,
He did not cause.
The pain is because,
I want him to love me,
Like I do him,
But it shall never be,
Never with him.

Poem 2: Dedicated to my sister March 27 2005- May 8, 2005.

Roxanne I love you in all the different ways,
Sometimes I'm just wonderin what you're doin these days.
I wish you hadn't gone, It was at the crack of dawn.
It happened so fast, and now it's in the past.
The morning I woke, noone could speak,
For such an old baby, you were so weak.
It took an hour for the ambulence to come,
Oh, How I wish something could have been done.
Waiting for hours just didn't suit me.
But we had to wait to wait and see how it would be.
It ended up pretty bad.
Everyone that loves you is now really sad.
Six weeks old, is not a great fold.
The family you never met came to see you after all of this.
Oh only if I could have just one simple wish.
For you would be back in my life with ease.
And everyone that loves you would be pleased.
Even though you're gone and we can't change the past.
No matter what happens, our love for you will last.

Poem 3:
Love is butterflys in you stomach.
Love is that feeling that makes you sick.
Love isn't about finding someone you can live with,
It's about finding the one you can't live without.
So don't say you love me if you are going to leave.
Don't say you love me if you really don't believe.
Your words confuse me and I don't understand.
But my words were very clear, clear but bland.
I try to run from my overwhelmed thoughts.
But they follow me without a stop.
I try to tell you how I feel.
But all you care about is what isn't real.
She makes fun of you and doesn't even like you.
So If you want me to be like her, tell me what I can do.
There is nothing I can do that couldn't make me love you.
Oh please, oh please tell me what I can do.


I know the third one isn't that great but it was something i threw together in class because i was bored. Please help me!!

Question #18:

The Arab Worlds Dirty Secret: racism?

Click Here

I was on my way home on the Cairo Metro, lost in thought as I listened to music when I noticed a young Egyptian taunting a Sudanese girl. She reached out and tried to grab the girl’s nose and mouth and laughed when the girl tried to brush her hand away.

The Sudanese girl looked to be Dinka, from southern Sudan and not the northern Sudanese who “look like us”. She looked black African and was obviously in distress.

I removed my headphones and asked the Egyptian woman “Why are you treating her like that?”

She exploded into a tornado of yelling, demanding to know why it was my business. I told her it was my business because as an Egyptian and as a Muslim who was riding the Metro, her behaviour was wrong and I would not stay silent about it. I knew she was Muslim because she wore a scarf.

I told her that the way she was treating the Sudanese girl made the scarf on her head meaningless. Her mother asked me why I didn’t cover my hair and I replied that I didn’t want to be a hypocrite like her and her daughter.

As distressing as I found that young woman’s behaviour, I was even more distressed that the other women in the Metro car with us watched passively and said nothing. They made no attempt to defend the Sudanese girl nor to defend me when I confronted the Egyptian woman.

After the Egyptian woman got off at her station, I asked the other women why they didn’t do anything. One woman said she stayed silent because the racist woman would’ve yelled at her and told her to mind her own business too. So what, I asked? If enough of the women had confronted her, she would have been outnumbered.

I apologized to the Sudanese girl for the Egyptian woman’s behaviour and she thanked me for defending her and told me “Egyptians are bad”. I could only imagine other times she’d been abused publicly.

We are a racist people in Egypt and we are in deep denial about it. On my Facebook page, I blamed racism for my Cairo Metro argument and an Egyptian man wrote to deny that we are racists and used as his proof a programme on Egyptian Radio featuring Sudanese songs and poetry!

Question #19:

If I'm a 39 year old guy, can I make the scene?

I mean if I get the black clothes and the shagadelic hair cut, I already write bad poetry. Or will I just be a big poseur?

Question #20:

Pessimistic poetry (feedback please)?

Please honestly tell me what you think, no hard feelings

As you plaster on your fake like smile,
And choke back tears,
I choke back life,
Counting down the years.

Are you ready?
Its almost time for the show,
I await- My blood lust has grown.

Your scent lingers as you grace us with your presence,
My smile swells i will soon taste blood.
My tongue explores my new set of teeth,
I am thrilled to be the host of your last heart beat.

The screams, shouts, and yells of fear,
Are canceled out,
As i run my fingers through your still living hair,

Now lost in thought,
Your beauty now present in death,
You look so pretty as you beg for one last
Breath.

Your blood: warm, soothing, soft,
settles my anger.

I watch as your eyelides close,
your world turns black,
we've gone to far,
there is no turning back.

Uncontrollable now,
Instincts take control.
Blood flowing,
What have i done?

Better of dead,
I finish the deed.
Amazingly beautiful as you slowly bleed.
Your corpse body falls to the floor,
Im done,
I cant take this anymore.

Slowly, cautiously I grab the knife.
Do I look beautiful as I end my life?





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