mad graffiti



E. R. Smith, 2018

Throwed up the sour crux of the matter

Call me vandal, huh? Where’s your plan for me?

Infrastructure F–Ked up since my pop’s feet pattered

Demographics show me last on the list….maybe, we’ll see..


This battered wall, reminds of  vivid existence

Slapped woke, retaliating for unprovoked focused pain

This passive palette, path of least resistance

Styling a marching movement, more than for ihe slain


World  peep gifts possible in all!  Nourish satiate the multitudes

Burning bombs on the wall bleed, crimes of exclusion

Artists fists lash out; violent pigments glow, unchecked attitudes

Opportunities for the red blood born,  won’t suffer occlusion





On the Birth of This Day

E.R. Smith 2018

Crack the Dawn shows me a mosaic

Almost a tapestry, the edges fray with light dust

A symphony of a life lived, striving strong, algebraic

Dense thick stubborn reaching fibers

Indomitable pattern; organic thread follows ancients

Linking from past weaving designers

Etching an art for present time; keeping relevant

Intricate paths sewn; with no apology

Dawn’ brings a bright appreciating testament

Feelings of Fear

©2017 E. R. Smith

A block of ice lays the head

Bites into the brain

Crams darkness like lead

Drives one insane

Evil is this blatant insanity

Fear the power consuming

Grave the battle, calamity

Heart-felt power dooming

Icy prickles spread down spine

Just in time to catch doubt

Killing hope of life divine

Leaving  bitter drought

My soul glistens when vaporized

Numb tears shed  its loss

Owning a head beaten traumatized

Phantom unseen touches toss

Quiet mind down and determine

Really, is it there?

Sane is it,  to house this vermin?

Tear now at angst’s snare

Unseat it from the crown

Visualize strength inside

Will Force to beat it sound

X-Gen worries easing stride

Years of prayers  Mighty pound

Zen reached  Love drowned sigh




Exposure My Heart


Source: Exposure My Heart


Opened much too soon to a lovely face

that erased me as soon as my utterings were done,

Opened myself to a grace

disinterested in being mine,

Skin so lovely my tongue wanted a taste

of that casing only so deep,

Next time I won’t be beguiled

by style and symmetry,

Next time I love, it will be

passionate poetry,

Exposing my soul to a stranger,

strangled my faith in the next.

By Michael Cleaves aka bronxbeyondborders


Pound on My Fist

This is my pen name as they say.  I was going to experiment with this site.  Time isn’t always on my side.  But I like the work I started here.


Source: Pound on My Fist

-Cleave Michaels


Pound on my fist 

secret handshake lets me in

Man cave of marvels

dusky heroes praised within                                                              

Booths seat comedians

Some you know and those you don’t

Heated towel, sitting high on the throne

A sight in a mirror, curious prying

Grooming cuts along side, boasting and lying

Flexing jokers shout-out hilarious tales

Shop next store lifted up with the wails

Gentlemen sitting in their best starting scandals

Oh, men Gossip Good-light it up like candles

Entertainment tells the youth, one philosophy

Humming clippers- Still -make no apology

Chest puffed out, feeling manhood bloom

Clean, cream of the crop, backstage control room



Party Girls Why Do You Hate Me?

©2017 E. R. Smith

Party girls why do you hate me?

You dated early choice boys who forsook me

Always invited to the party or to club

Me? Home studying how to live above

How do I move from welfare to fairing well?

Well, I missed the parties, the boys, your circle of love

Party girls why do you hate me, I adore your pretty babies?

Stopped by every shower to shower you with a first paycheck gift

Left wondering at the ousted feeling on my skin,  a bad whiff

Why do you hate me? I wondered at the choices of mates you mated!

Jealous of the choice boys you sampled in the community

Wanting to be held, but more held above other women, highly rated

I waited….a    long    time.   Saw you all from time to time; raising families

Jealous of the love surrounding you, wandering where mine lay hiding

Graduated BS, MSEd., good job, okay looking lady seeking family

God sent him and then my dearest daughter’s love, abiding

Married black family rare and true, but I’ve done nothing to you

So, why do you hate me, when’ve I’ve only envied how God blessed you?