Category: poetry

It Wasn’t My Choice. This is a poem that was sparked from a discussion in my College class concerning Ethics and Diversity, it was brought to light on how quickly we judge a person based on no more than their outward appearance, skin color, manner of speech, the way they wear their cloths, how their ethnicity, age group, & finical position is depicted by the media, the list goes on. What I took from that discussion is that none of us had any say on how we would enter this world, the only thing we do have the power to influence & effect is how we live in the world we see; that still remains a gift from God: the ability to effect a change- if he has given that gift to you and only if you recognize it & use it for the bettering of those who pass through Your world. This is…

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It Wasn’t My Choice
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

To whom it may concern,

It wasn’t my choice that my ancestors where hunted and gathered, stripped from their homeland, and viciously removed from their roots; they where shoveled on board ships piled on top of one another treated like animals forced to the slaughter.

It wasn’t my choice that the monarchs and patriarchs of the American Blackman where sold as property: the selected would go to the highest bidder screaming, “winner winner chicken dinner,
pack ’em up boys them My niggers.”

It wasn’t my choice that many would die in transit or that many had to struggle to survive in conditions inhumanly drastic.

It wasn’t my choice that stripes on the back of my forefathers would create a wound generations deep, even after Lincoln preached his copper tone speech.

It wasn’t my choice that the past heartbeats of slaves escaping to their freedom would still be heard in the music, the poetry, and the pages of true American History.

It wasn’t my choice to be born in a country that hates my skin; hated because I tan better than them, or am I hated because I’m seemingly more athletic, or is it because my history reminds them of their sin?

It wasn’t my choice so stop asking me “what you do’n here boy?” Stop questioning my motives when I’m stuck in an elevator with your insecure conscience- you reck of fear.
Stop assuming you know what I’m thinking.

Shall I apologize because you’ve been seduced by the media monsters’ propaganda?

Shall I apologize for the way my people struggle to survive committing crimes because they to are also blind: But let me remind you that it was you who limited their opportunities: it was you who caroled them into ghetto reservations gave them guns flashed material gains shipped in drugs you spread your money around to entice told them this is your God you must love it to death- & so they die daily. Let me remind you that it was you who fooled them into thinking your way of life was the key to happiness, fine clothes, nice cars, beautiful women, you advertised the lie that this is clean live’n; & you have the audacity to whine about the violence and atrocities you observe when it was your brain child birthed from an evil heart that started this madness pouring gasoline on a spark turning a minor candle flame into a fiery hurricane.

I just want you to think about that before you deflect the blame for Americas pain and remember that it wasn’t my choice that I came: But it is my choice to make a change to the course of all this chaos bringing order to the blood line of Kings & Princess’s. it is my choice to make a change that will imprint generations that will grow strong & tall rising above all, it is my choice to change the world I see- starting with me….

Sincerely yours,
An American Black Man

This is a journey of realization; realizing that God has shown himself faithful and true even though we may not always see his goodness, his favor, & his mercy: it’s almost as if we’ve become drunk on the thought that we have total control over every aspect of our lives- even the unforeseen situations that are obviously beyond our control and influence, this is a poem of those trapped in such a state. This is…

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Trust Drunk
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

It’s simple to think that we have absolute control over the days and the ways they unfold,

We hold tight to the graphic thoughts of taking each step according to our own direction, giving correction when things go sideways, not realizing our sight is like rats in a maze;

Be amazed on how in the beginning of each day sun-eye’s rise wide open to all things made new,

True steps taken when one realeases from hand the insecurities fears, darkness,& shadows;

These like bee’s seek the aroma of selfish addiction, control freakin think’n all should follow like lost ships too light flash,

Beckoning the blind to find deep pits to fall in calling them the cauldron of ignorants, running solo counting on self conjured mojo;

Stop, freeze please take photo for this posing idol fitting in a self framed ideal, boasting the tittle of “know it all” yet can’t find rest in nights stress,

No one close to confide in, each devil you name friend, no one close none can come in too invade this mentality “me against the world”- fallacy,

Crying, “how could this be the real me,” sighs when mirror replies with a wink, “just me and I kid care for a drink of distrust?”

Built walls of iron bars no one in no feelings out safe from harm withering carelessly though wrong;

You may say,”I trust the almighty,” yet your heart hides its true intent feeling sour from feasting on bitterness, soul too bruised and thrashed from harsh words repeating, “you’ll never be more than trash”

Broken self left shattered edges aimed at anyone approaching, letting daggers fly like bullets from gun until all fell two, one.

Left next to none dimming eye lies seeing shadows flee from sunrising lighting path to freely believe; now come to the realizing through all time God…

He has been the source keeping heart beating even feeding starved soul: He awoke spirit provided life to flow: He paved the way of escaping the dungeon of disfunction;

It was his Son that was hung, then spilt blood rushed, in the end faith won when one became sober in mind realizing all this time, I AM is the LORD God-‘Trustworthy’….

When your purpose pushes you beyond the point of no return, leaving you face to face with your greatest fears, feeling that at any moment your defining triumph will appear hear your inner voice screaming from with-in, YOU’VE GOT TO…

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MAKE IT
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

Every step taken registers as earth shaken

No fake’n this passion is lit ready to lift energy beams to next level scenes

Expectation screams desire turns into hunger which turns into greed

Selfish for what’s mine no longer waste’n precious time each step leaves caution behind

Out of breath dream killers left shut-up twisted up by their own words sent to bind

No place remains for distractions to find I’ve got only one mission

That’s to make life changing decisions in line with God sent visions

Each step eating away at my pathway gaining ground until my promise is found

No mayday or bailout I’m on purpose so the option to fail is cast-out

I stay in route moving from a stagnant oasis to a flash flood

Shouts pour out when the weight of this press try’s to convert into stress

Surging dreams to the forefront of my mind reminding me why

I’m on this mission giving my all ditching the temptation to fall

It’s these words ghost written on my wall

Words my driven spirit observes when they call saying,

“Come on Man of God don’t give in don’t quit reject the pain when your muscles burn & your lungs scream for rest you’ve got to give it all you’ve got cause Champion is your title & lot let these words resound like a hammer pounding steel rushing like lightning striking the ground let it be sealed these prophetic words revealed;”

“MAN OF GOD YOU’VE GOT TO MAKE IT….”

We often question the unknown when where faced with a decision that has the potential to drastically alter the course of our lives. In that weighty moment of hesitation we find ourselves paused in thought, resting in the middle of an intersecting crossroad pondering the future, asking ourselves one question which contains epic consequences…

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What’s to be…?
Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

What’s to be…?

When I speak to the wind and my words ascend into the atmosphere changing the direction of courses, fear and courage divorces, my boldness burning bright as torches.

What’s to be…?

When I see the horizon brighten and my strength increases to my light rising.

What’s to be…?

When the open doors welcome me in, my eye’s opening to hopes with-in, heartbeats rush, muscles tighten like wrists in hand cuffs; this is it! The reward- the result of giving myself wholly to the vision hatched from minds eye sight.

What’s to be…?

When my desire collides with pregnant wishes and my dreams escape their captures prisons craving the tasting of freedoms dishes.

What’s to be…? When there is no end to time, where eternity grasps my hands and whispers, “your mine….”

What’s to be…?

What’s to become of the generations after me? I’m hoping they see the rising of their horizon upon their path. Let their destiny find them when they ask,

“What’s to be…?”

Who knew

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Who knew
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

Who knew that the kindness of a butterfly would pollinate a rose that would bloom becoming pleasing to one man’s eye.

Who knew that through the pain an eagle would glide above the hurricane finding peace from the stinging rain.

Who knew that two hearts would form a new beginning from their two ends two hearts become lovers birthed out of the trials of their faith these two hearts find an embrace.

Who knew that the feud kindled by their haters and debaters fueled from their actions would strengthen their attraction.

Who knew when two hearts become one the darkness that covered would be rebuked by the blinding light of their love exuding protruding from two hearts become one.

Who knew how few would be excluded or how many where included baring witness to vows up held despite the plait to end all they sacrificed to fight for they’re two hearts become one they stand upheld by the strength obtained from heavens Son these two hearts become one.

Who knew that these two hearts would agree to be joined on task treasuring the present valuing the past planting seeds for the future reaping a harvest that would last.

Who knew two hearts could do what’s been done with eye’s looking forward guided by Gods Son who knew that years later these two hearts still remain young for these two hearts are become one…

The tragedies that plague our world tend to spark the unification of Families, peace Communities, & Countries to fight against the entities that pray on the vulnerable. It only takes the collective thoughts of one person to change the world they see- which in turn has an impact on so many others, some for the better & some for their own destructive greed- don’t be the later: But rather let us all make an effort in our own way to become as a whole a company of World Changers. This is…

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Morning Sunrise
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

Awakened conscience eye’s open to the world around this morning seems strange the wind breaths a degree of change stretching to apply paint to frame picture a world where people feel the pain of their equal human beings respecting each life made sweeter then the ripest peach a world where children reflect the wisdom of their teach preached on soap boxes become outposts for truth a world where greed is disregarded more focus directed towards good works started imagine a world where no evil hails a world where love is pure and honest each man extending a helping hand to brake the barrier of division with the impact of a sledgehammer incision a world where there are no strangers the only funerals arranged are to bury anger next to hatred a world where the dreams of your neighbor are as crucial as your own significant as flesh to bone a world where true peace is found beyond ones home imagine a world where social status lines are erased and each man runs at his own pace a world where joyful tears wet faces no more pain burning from the flame of the insane…. Awakened conscience eye’s open to the world that is your own… How will you imagine it’s sunrise…?

Communication or lack thereof is one of the major causes of marriages failing. There should be no secrets between husband and wife but most of the time its the lack of trust and maturity that cause the birth of that silent killer; uncover the things that need to be said if you deem it important and let the significant other hear the complaint and concern of the one they vowed to love & cherish. I hope you take this into thought the next time your asked the question…

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Can We Talk?!
by Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

Angelic sunlight seen when you’re in eye sight but the light is dimming as you walk away tears in eye’s from hurts hidden works giving no reward you’re found sitting in the shadows with the look of boredom your vocal sword swings curses wounds need nurses touch much going unsaid feeling as If there’s a stranger with me in bed communication dead frustrated
vision-gates turning red fed up with this arrangement where’s the love we found when our intimacy was in infancy form what happened to the love born is your heart scorned has my soul been mourned remember together we sworn in the courts of heaven no other we vowed to let in yet temptation seems to have crept in but no worries for no desire for sin dwells in mind just the thoughts trying to find the silver lining in all this grey areas still covered silent insults our eye’s mutter screaming hearts seeking for light in the dark fumbling over words unsaid prayers fly like flares brightening like lightning flashes quick sparks of hope sprouts then savagely choked “why didn’t you hear my cries!?” now my situation is exposed to spies weaving webs of entrapment they laugh when the sound of tear drops hit ground “WHERE IS THE PURGING OF MY HURTING” the desire for peace is why my heart still beats for you now will you just talk too me or will you just continue smothering everything I am I showed you myself I exposed to you all my treasures so why is that no longer enough why are your lips cold to the touch as if life has lost its taste for love & happiness I can’t believe we’re back to this unspoken emotions murdered by silence….

Never let anyone or anything succeed in eclipsing the light of hope burning inside you. Let your flame burn bright with all the strength you posses; even in the midst of your fight, make your declaration of victory….

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I STILL SHINE
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

Night blankets the dimming sun, light has faded to its rest & I’m left to think back on every breath. In amazement I begin to realize how an effervescent beam of hope exudes from with-in, I hesitate the question, “I still shine?” After all that has come to attempt to extinguish this burning flame I hear my soul sing, “I still shine….”

Through the trial of time I’ve come to a point of uncovering that which has struggled to be. This light in me has suffered the force of an unforgiving wind; when no direction was given & all around seemed to be on a descend it was then I recognized, “I still shine….”

Even when no external starlight could be seen through the dim cluster of cloud, as if joy itself had been swallowed in the abyss of doubt, “I still shine….” When not even the comfort of kindness held any warmth in it’s core, “I still shine….”

Even when the ravenous pack of dream killing wolves stalked my thoughts, attempting to devour my flaming candle stick-
My soul…
I can still hear its defiance, “I still shine…!”

No longer blind to the beautiful lustrous fire surging to the surface my vision stands illuminated. My desires have not faded, I shall be the King over all that has been gifted to me: I shall no longer hide behind the shadows of uncertainty: I shall fan this blaze into a consuming frenzy devouring all that opposes me.

I, like the Phoenix shall rise from these darkening ashes, ascending to where after time has come to it’s end & the enemies of my hope are never seen again, then shall I take seat on my throne, it shall be known & defined, “I STILL SHINE….”

“The voice of a writer is heard through his instrument- which has a story all it’s own” – Edward T. This is…

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Hear Me…
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

I lay waiting patiently for my purpose-full activation, laying my eye’s upon the view of my value- which is a subjective perspective. I am a subject to the vision of He who holds me in hand. I sit waiting for the time I am made useful, I’m so full of his expressions, I sit ready to shed my life source until I have nothing else to give; it’s my purpose to die that his vision may live.

I am an extension of his soul; through me his thoughts exist bringing life to imagination when I’m gripped in hand. I’m honored to be his tool, his voice in a two dimensional universe.

Each word written has the power to influence the mind, each paragraph defines what he see’s, even his eye’s are connected to me.

In the Muse we become one entity- he is me. Here in the depths of meditation he retreats to his castle in the sky.

The Dream Writer is what I call him, the pureness of inspiration is what I saw in him, so I called to him.

When he picked me up I became the currier of his deepest emotions. I feel his pain as each letter soaks in. You see, with me he escapes into paradise: with me he breaths life to a blank canvas, each word closely woven into his soul. The melody created in each depicting phrase is something divinely provoked, each statement a musical note.

With a thousand words he paints a perfect portrait of…

I…

I am his release.

I am the vehicle of his peace.

I am his silent friend…

I am his Pen….

Resting in the bosom of my love I hear the whispers of her heart; This is…

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Language of the Heart
By Edward LIMITLESS Taylor III

Beat-Beat… Beat-Beat… Beat-Beat…

Your heart speaks the language of love. The heat of our flames stir up a spiral flared staircase facing upwards towards hidden desires. Intoxicating are the depths of your eye’s, they reveal to me a soul secured in the Ark of Endearment, carried away by waves of silk and satin the garments of passion; taking breaths in as we step into a blue paradise, loves heights.

Beat-Beat… Beat-Beat… Beat-Beat…

Your heart speaks an eloquent riddle in my ear, seductive whispers I hear: Each word a puzzle peace carefully placed, a glorious portrait they paint; each subtle cares of the canvas sends chills through the core of my existence; by reasons unknown I am subdued by your loves tone.

My Will is stolen away by a symphony blending you and I- Each touch must be a thrust through the heart beating, seeking….

Beat-Beat… Beat-Beat… Beat-Beat…

Tell me O heart; what other Dreams can you speak…?