3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS
Poems and Thoughts

Lucky Toure © 2011

All Rights Reserved
www.365DaysWithPoetry.com
LuckyToure@gmail.com
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Poems and Thoughts

1. Black Defined
2. Black History
3. Re-Mind’ink
4. Ebony Tears
5. Brotherly Love
6. Bob
7. 2/7
8. Victims
9. Pain and Poverty
10. Lost in Translation
11. Black Roses
12. The Game
13. Mother’s Nature
14. 14th of February
15. Black notes
16. Packaged, Sold and Forgotten
17. Stand Still
18. Prayer Delivery
19. Memory Lane
20. Time Lines
21. Ghetto Children
22. Gray Area
23. Around the Way Girl
24. Mute Cognition
25. Circles
26. Pray 4 Me
27. evil’s Money
28. Rememory
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

RIP to all those souls who weren’t forgiven...

Lucky
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Black Defined
To be black is to be :
Atrocious
Ominous
Horrible
Foreboding
Doleful
Gloomy
Mournful
Unfortunate
Hostile
Evil
Vicious
Immoral
Unrighteous
Weird
Cynical
Censored
Depraved
Sad
Threatening
Foul
Grimy
Filthy
Somber
Sinister
Dirty
Grubby
Oppressive
Nasty
Squalid
Stained
Unclean
Corrupt
Impure
Ignominious
Harmful
Destructive
Ruinous
Dreadful
Soiled
Dismal
Lugubrious
Depressing
Bleak
Dreary
Inglorious
Nefarious
And Negro
According to the English Dictionary
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Black History

Born into servitude as building blocks of this land

Lacking the understanding to completely overcome
Abhorrent at the cards displayed in the right hand
Causative of hate amongst the buildings on blocks
Killing to survive, murdering time and demolishing the mind

Hoping and praying a change will eventually come

Ignorant to truth, confused since youth
Schooled by a system adept in mental abuse
Trailing by 400 years, silent in fear and drowning in tears
Oppressed yet attuned to the present conditions
Repeating history on a daily basis, subconsciously
Yearning for the truth and less religions
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Re-Mind’ink
Kidnapped brainwashed and neglected
Raped murdered and sold
Freed with no direction
Patiently holding on to the soul
Evading death, torture, and bondage
Searching for an education
A piece of mind and true knowledge
Avoiding mental penetration
Dancing, entertaining the rich and some poor
Creating literary masterpieces
Developing poems, movies and folklore
Assassinated for classic speeches
Marching for an equal opportunity
Sitting and singing for a change
Under constant scrutiny
Policed and kept in the slow lane
Writing lyrics to fight the power
Telling tales of hard times
Caged and drugged by the hour
Lambasted for speaking one’s mind
A mind destroyed by
Fantasy,
Shame,
Hate,
Neglect,
Deprivation,
Games,
Religion,
Regrets,
Pain,
Sorrow,
Oppression,
Death,
Corruption,
Lies,
Deceit &
Reject
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Ebony Tears

Sometimes I take time to sit in the darkest corner of the room and just cry. Shedding
tears, Ebony Tears of pain, hate, and neglect, unaware of which history to remember,
which one to forget. Aware that the past will always be present in the future, I shed
tears, Ebony Tears for the slaves of the past, present and future, who assist in keeping
the rich, rich while the poor remains poor as they get older. Heading in the wrong
direction they continue chasing a dream deferred. Quietly losing their voices cursing
the devil while begging the lord for more choices. Confused by the blue eyed blond
hair man on the cross accepting that their savior looks nothing like them. Tears of
ebony ink stream down my face thinking about the most prominent leaders trapped in
a cage unable to lead us. Rehabilitated, yet their new thoughts are unheard. Never to
reach the ears of young men ignorantly eager to assassinate for dead presidents,
incognizant of the two strikes against them.

Black… Check
Male… Check

1st offense and it could be a life sentence. I shed tears, Ebony Tears knowing for years it
has been unfair to instill in a people, fear. Now scared and entertained marches have
stopped, opinions are lost, wrong battles are fought. Fights over blocks with glocks for
the most rocks keeps war waging, policed by venal cops. These tears of pain and
neglect hurt my heart observing broken homes, where no love is shown and single
mothers care for baby men on their own. It all started back when Beautiful Black
Women were raped, whipped and left breeding now their lied to, cheated and left
breeding, just history repeated. Strong Black Men were whipped abased and murdered
for no reason now their entertaining, degraded and murdered for no reason, just history
repeated. I shed tears of hate every year during the shortest month, listening to the
souls of slaves crying for freedom, crying to be free. I share tears with these souls
whose blood covers the wealthiest land in the world. Whose shackled feet and bloody
hands worked for hours a day building a land where they were never welcomed with
opened arms. I share these tears with them. Every time I sit in the darkest corner of the
room I shed Ebony Tears. Ebony Tears of pain, hate and neglect.
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Brotherly Love

Banging, bagging, balling, or studying books

Irascible boys grow into hateful men
Whether a bum, baller, business owner or crook
Hate loves to reside in most of them
Feared by society
Degraded by their environment
Making it to 21 is a blessing
Never mind retirement

Love deprived as an adolescent

These men grow with no emotions
Dealing with women and their lessons
Causing auto-phobia and misconceived notions

Failing as fathers, husbands and boyfriends

Causing pain to mothers, girlfriends and wives
Isn’t dependent on unwilling hearts
But hate living within these men their entire lives
At school, the store, or in court
There is always someone throwing hate
On the corner, in the studio or at work
An angry Black Man is easy to make

Don’t hate him, because he has received enough

Trust and believe it
Instead show a Brother Love
There is no doubt that he really needs it
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Bob
A soul rebel from the start
You shot the sheriff and never got caught
Wanting no more trouble
You sang songs of hope and freedom
Redemption Song, Cheer Up
And Get Up, Stand Up
Ridin high, in the concrete jungle
With so much things to say
Singing only what you know and believe
Learning from the mix-up, mix-up each day
A natty dread far from a heathen
Unaware of how many times
Your songs are repeated
Or played just to relax the mind
While sipping red, red wine
Just having a nice time
Your words of wisdom
Spoke nothing but the truth
Incomprehensible to the young minded
Though you can’t blame the youth
You sang songs of mental slavery
Encouraging a psychological exodus
Where everything is going to be alright
After one cup of coffee you physically left
Coming in from this cold world
Leaving three little birds up north
Waiting in vain as lost bad boys and girls
Is this love? and could you be loved?
Are questions I doubt you could even answer
Or how can I satisfy my soul?
Or better yet why do people always
“Get Ready” with no place to go?
I don’t know…
I’m not a buffalo soldier
Just a ghettoized warrior
Dealing with crazy balheads and dreads
Po po, the feds and
Complex women who play with both heads
But this day I’m just jamming to these tunes of a Legend
A Rasta who preached one love and freedom
And as I write this one drop on your born day
I’m hoping your words can finally free them
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

2/7
If I’m living to die
I would like to know why
Why this wrath living inside
Has controlled my whole life
Blessing me with hate
Cursing me with a false faith
Conversing with demons
Leading me the wrong way
With no love in my blood
Angry at the whole world
I lived my life lividly
Waiting for my fist to uncurl
To get down on my knees
Folding my two hands
Being a bigger man
Asking for one more chance
Now no longer blind
By the wrath in me
I turn frowns into smiles
Living each day happily
Hoping for the best but
Expecting the worst
Waiting for the weak
To inherit the Earth
7 Days of the week
With no peace to be found
I thank God for Resurrecting
My Mind from the ground
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Victims

Physically free
Hands untied
Unbounded feet
Enduring lies
Hopeless & weak
Hurting inside
Wondering why
Their lives
Are still deprived
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Pain and Poverty

Pain & Poverty are always stalking me
I can them see through my window disturbing the streets
Debating constantly, when they will follow me
And they always seem to agree, 7 days a week

I wish I could call on the feds or the BPD

But that will only make things worse
Because where there is more cops there’s more poverty
And pain comes free with this curse

I want to run away & hide

Stay underground for a while
Recapture my lost mind
Rebirth my inner child

Then maybe I can bury this pain

Leave poverty at the cemetery
Escape this pouring rain
Realizing the storm is only temporary
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Lost in Translation
Lost in Translation
Full of desires
Blinded by temptation
Hoping to acquire
A LIFE free of frustration
One of many requires
Yet consent in prostration
Believing in liars
Lost in a NATION
Full of deceit
With Minds on vacation
A RACE in retreat
Learning HIS education
HIS-Story will repeat
In these streets of segregation
HOPE & PEACE are deceased
Lost in RELIGION
Confused since our youth
Believing revisions
Unaware of the TRUTH
With so many divisions
Don’t know which one to choose
Putting FAITH in a system
Obeying their rules
Decoding the past
A task widely avoided
Is keeping US back
Accepting a TRUTH contorted
Slowly dying inside
Our VOICES are silent
Masquerading with pride
Eluding Goliath

Accept the Present

It’s a GIFT & a CURSE
A remembrance you’re present
and life can get worse
Attain TRUE translation
Emanate courageous endeavors
Escape mental molestation
OR LOSE this race FOREVER
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Black Roses
Dark clouds shed tears of pain
Black lamented droplets
Drenching the wings of lonely
Flowers searching for the sun
With their eyes towards the heavens,
Praying to the blue skies
Stuck in a cold hell
Frozen in place
Unable to fully bloom
Where a dearth of fresh water
And a famine of sunlight
Denys them life’s greatest gift, Growth!
While the tree of life remains untouched
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

The Game
Dreams are on a losing streak with reality
Not knowing courage is afraid of fear
Causing wealth to be invisible to a poor man’s vision
Though ignorance, ignorantly doesn’t care
High hopes wage wars with doubt
Over closed minds who open only to unknown time
Trying to calculate change
Going insane and remaining in the same time
While truth lies in bed next to iniquity
Observing pain conversing with joy outside in the rain
Debating whether life or death shall redeem victory
Or if faith will unanimously win this game
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Mother’s Nature
Many nights I’m
Standing alone
Drenched in sorrow
Soaked in shame
Praying for a better tomorrow
Waiting for the weather to change
With no umbrella nor a coat
To protect me
I endure mother’s nature
With no choice but to
Tolerate these intricate days
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

14th of February
On days like this
My heart begins to cry
Collecting tears of joy
As she reminisce about
Regretfully falling in Love with
Lust and Desire
Those one night stands
Has attuned her entire personae
Today she is in Love with Love…
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Black Notes
This black notebook contains

Black and blue consonants and vowels

Forming genuine black thoughts

Describing the stories of a black boy

Prematurely growing into a black man

Who is watched daily through tinted clouds

As he watches bullets and angels fly side by side

Racing throughout his native ghetto

With a black wrist watch

Black fitted cap and black timberland boots

He walks through this concrete jungle

Patiently waiting for

All black eyes to open and

All black lives to be reimbursed

So blacks can live equitably in a country

Built by black hands

But systematically built for a white man

 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Packaged, Sold and Forgotten

1 day they were kings and queens

2 day they are forgotten.
During the Civil War
Around 3.5 million victims of slavery
observed the north and south fighting
for slaves’ emancipation.
7 years later the 14 amendment
Allowed these lost men, women and children
to be considered a whole human being.

Each February that passes by has me wondering

why the same people are celebrated each year in only 28 days
While 500+ years of black history is forgotten.
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Stand Still

The damage is done

No change has come
Holding onto these dreams
From these nightmares I run
Away from lust and confusion
Searching for a conclusion
Until Kingdom Come
I’m stuck with false resolutions
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Prayer Delivery

Prayers from lost souls

are stamped with grief
and delivered with love
upstairs to God,
causing rain drops to lamentingly fall
with each droplet containing a blessing
soaking the hearts dwelling inside
the bodies of the living dead
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Memory Lane

Sunrises remind me of the wrong ways we’ve been forced to travel, causing road trips
down memory lane, reminiscing about child hood days, when there were no
responsibilities, just having a good time, dreaming about the future, and fucking. But
today we pack guns, quick to point and shoot ya, resolving absolutely nothing.
Continually living with confusion, illusions, and deluding our own frail hearts and
minds. Getting high to slow down time, and time again appears to move faster by the
second. While minutes are wasted and hours are spent mentally masturbating, coming
too soon to conclusions accepting this raw penetration destroying child hood dreams.
Dreams of our inner-child. Distorted realities of a humble adolescent who lost their way
after breaking down too many times on memory lane.
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Time Lines
On each calendar the days are numbered to track time. Keeping pass times and
appointments in line. A time line keeping track of the past and predicting the future.
Continuously moving forward never slowing down or increasing its eternal pace. A
priceless entity in control of the human race. A race of beings, being timed by two
hands waiting for the right moment to stop time. Sometimes it’s hard to be on time
with so much time to waste mindlessly time and time again. Each day someone’s on
the clock, timing a city bus or train, greyhound or plane, hours left @ work or in a
game. Every day time is misunderstood, taken for granted, neglected and lost in a
world who tries to keep time though time can’t be kept, saved, or reset. Can’t be seen,
heard, felt, tasted of smelled yet it’s perceived as a threat. Not enough time during the
day. Not enough time to pray. Not enough time to lay asleep for those extra 15 min
before the alarm begins to ring again. Time comes and goes ignoring the many
times, time has affected those lives with not enough time on their side. Flying by, time
never ceases for anyone or anything. Just simply living out an everlasting life on its
own time.
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Ghetto Children
Misguided and misunderstood
Underprivileged, trying to survive in the hood
Deprived of an equal chance to make dreams come true
Imitating entertainers and mis-educated in school

Ignorant to a genuinely universal culture which has been

lost in the seas of the pacific ocean
drowning with stolen bodies
robbed of a normal life

Robbed of dreams, ideas and memories

tainting the souls, hearts n minds
of children born to lose though built hood tough,
growing up living with anger
misinterpreting love.
Mistrusting neighbors
Evading constant danger
Sending prayers for a brighter day
To an invisible man up above
Dreaming of better days to come
Hoping to manifest ideas
Record new memories
While still living a ghetto life
Far from tranquility
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Gray Area
Shades of gray
fill the skies and
those lives with
minds lost in lies,
depressed and oppressed
feeling trapped inside
waiting in line for a new Life
that appears vividly in a dream
ever once in a while

A dream of a humble child

 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Around the Way Girl

Her mind is genuine
Her soft voice
Soothes the heart
Her nature is graceful
Diamond in the rough
From the start
A true gem
Rarely understood
An around the way girl
A student of the hood

Loving with caution

Protecting her heart
Locking away her true feelings
Until she’s ready to set
Them free to be caught
Hopefully by the man of her dreams
But if not
She’ll settle for a dream man
Who can satisfy her needs

She grew up around the way

Around a way where violence is common
Drugs sell, pussy sells and souls are sold often
But she finds a way to make ends meet
Finds a way to survive each week
Enduring the stress, lies and neglect
Learning from every regret
But one thing she’ll never forget
Is where she comes from
A girl from around the way
Will never, ever forget where she comes from
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Mute Cognition

Wise words are

seldom heard
from wise men
Men, full of thoughts
Mature with knowledge
and understanding
Understanding how to gain
knowledge and understand it
Their mistakes are regrettable
but voices are mute
to the ears of young men
making the same immature mistakes
Flying high on purple planes
Only to Land behind 4 walls to
regret, reminisce and rehabilitate
Gaining knowledge and understanding
From wise men
Men, full of thoughts
Mature with enough knowledge
To understand
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Circles

Many people around the way are losing their voices

Cursing the devil and begging the lord for more choices
Still singing and hoping a change is going to come
Although change still hasn’t begun
At least not where I’m from
Many of nights I’m awoken by bullets outside
of my window arguing
Followed by tires screeching
then police sirens screaming
EMS grabs a body off the ground
and he’s fleeing the crime scene
Racing the grim reaper to the hospital
as heaven and hell engages in a tug of war
for another freed soul
After he’s pronounced dead
many dollars are spent on flowers
who mourn at same place he last laid his head
So many tears are evaporated by hate
while many men are seeking revenge
Even though vengeance won’t solve shit
Just another gun argument in the end…
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Pray 4 Me
Lord, have mercy on one of your lost souls
An angel searching for his home
In the dresser I lay my bible right next to that chrome
Forgive me, but you know how it goes
WITHOUT YOU I’M ON MY OWN
Feelings inside are mixed up with a devil virus
Look @ me Lord, I need a new stylist
A new frame of mind but keep that hustling mind frame intact
I want to picture my future clearly without ever looking back

You gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse & passed it up countless times

Although you reminded me of the countless lies, endless cries
Those hypocritical preachers inoculating false hopes into confined minds
And long time friends turning into enemies over time
You told me to keep one eye open and believe half of what I see
Ignore everything I hear, because false words won’t benefit me
But only KNOWLEDGE and UNDERSTANDING can elevate me

And in spite of the enlightenment, I still said NO

But I’m here again, forgive my sins and Bless those who don’t know
YOU!

Amen
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

evil’s Money

All men are created equal,

equally created with God’s essence

In God’s presence
Money has befriended evil
distorting life lessons,
segregating all of God’s peoples
 3 WEEKS, 7 DAYS : POEMS AND THOUGHTS

Rememory

Memories paint pictures of history.

Pass stories unique to each being,

whose Dreams are based on perception

along with what the mind believes in

These introspective tales become,

Testimonies

Oral thoughts heard by one ear

and retold through different tongues,

distorting unique stories of beings.

Individuals who often sleep with the moon
and converse with sun