This is not a test.
Really it isnt.
Im looking for the best 4 lyricists, story writers, poets, whatever you wanna call-its and I want to collaborate on a series of books.
Naw, this isnt a guarantee - I guarantee your work will be yours and copywritten. I also guarantee that when we get done with this, itll be the most spectacular thing ever.
The Idea is BMU, Black Minds Unite. Basically, Im looking for the best HBCU has to offer...so pull out your pads and paper, and submit, Here, your best two pieces. Me and a hidden pannel of judges will rate the hottest people and from there we'll do an interviewing process. Like I said, this isnt a contract, and Im not promising money. What I can promise is that, together, we can do something big.
Huge. F*cking Ginormous. Hugantic even.
Write on. :arrow:
Oh, btw...after the last bit I just wrote, Im growing old of the whimsical rhyme, so Im going to write chapters from now on.
"Chapters you say?"
Chapters in deed boy! Its only for those that are bored...its just a free concept I want to keep writing on until the ending begs to be written. Feel free to comment...
Here are my two contributions!
Iris
One will praise you
Like the ancients praised Osiris
When he takes a look into your iris
He’ll give his riches, and even his life
For he truly knows that he can’t fight it
The request to relinquish all good or evil
Or whatever you may so desire
Will be fulfilled without any question
For you, he’ll surely swim in the fire
One will love you and praise you if you’d like it
When he takes a look into your iris
So be careful to whom you open your eyes
Because for your love, he’d surely die
Confidence
In the ghetto,
I squeeze wild dreams
Through the bars on my window
And I cry at night knowing
That these bars, I’ll never let go
There’s the idea burned inside me T
hat I’ll never be able to get no
Where
I see the school down the street,
But will I ever get to go there?
I see the manager I should meet,
But will I ever get him to care?
I see the homeless man on the corner,
But can I get him to share?
In the ghetto,
I adapt to life, so I see no real need
To let go
And no real need to get gone
Cause I feel like I was never
Meant to get to a throne
I’m only meant to be alone
For my dreams have flown away
So I sit and dream new things
Just to live another day
In the ghetto
(All poems copyrighted 2005 by Cambridge Jenkins IV)
they are mines yo thats a wonderful idea you started great minds do think alike i hope i can help been writing since age 7 I have written over 28 urban novel bi-lines and numerous amounts of poetry
A CLUTTERED MIND
confusion, frustration,aggravation
all flowing out at once
from up, down, left, right,
can't seem to get a clear sight
when thoughts cloud like fog
and answers like the sun on a dull day only a little shining from above
yet my mind remains full
and answers stubborn like bulls
so much on my mental plate
Im still waitin for fate
to approach me tell me my destiny
my futures events feels like an eternity
only time will tell how much more is left
but it feels like a never knowing test
what! when! where! why! how! who!
all thoughts fly to you
visual perceptions of how things could've been should've been
or how they can be
"if only it were like this" "if only it were like that"
thoughts spewing both fiction and fact
the mind is like the atlantic sea
forever staying crowded
a 24-hour thought machine well rounded
never an empty mind you will find
but you always can find a
C L U T T E R E D M I N D
Here are my two contributions!
Iris
One will praise you
Like the ancients praised Osiris
When he takes a look into your iris
He’ll give his riches, and even his life
For he truly knows that he can’t fight it
The request to relinquish all good or evil
Or whatever you may so desire
Will be fulfilled without any question
For you, he’ll surely swim in the fire
One will love you and praise you if you’d like it
When he takes a look into your iris
So be careful to whom you open your eyes
Because for your love, he’d surely die
Confidence
In the ghetto,
I squeeze wild dreams
Through the bars on my window
And I cry at night knowing
That these bars, I’ll never let go
There’s the idea burned inside me T
hat I’ll never be able to get no
Where
I see the school down the street,
But will I ever get to go there?
I see the manager I should meet,
But will I ever get him to care?
I see the homeless man on the corner,
But can I get him to share?
In the ghetto,
I adapt to life, so I see no real need
To let go
And no real need to get gone
Cause I feel like I was never
Meant to get to a throne
I’m only meant to be alone
For my dreams have flown away
So I sit and dream new things
Just to live another day
In the ghetto
(All poems copyrighted 2005 by Cambridge Jenkins IV)
