• Poetry

    Untitled

    Written by R.A. Loyd   Perhaps madmen belong in caves wherein the Lord receives them tenderly with mercies unknown to a shaking, howling, blasphemous generation.   A mist on the concrete is three oceans to the hermit; the branch of oak is a sight of two colors; to the ascetic it is ninety proverbs.   Every game and trial is lowercase theology to the itinerant monk, whereupon the body is a constant altar, a legged Israel, a country of praise.      

  • Poetry,  Vic Stanley

    Heavenly. . .

    Written by Victor Stanley Jr.   Dope game, I’ve seen it all Seen the rise plus I’ve seen the falls, Heart full of hate I’ve seen them on those corners squeezing off (guns) Heart full of love I’ve seen it get taken advantage of I’ve seen the pain Plus I’ve seen the change Good girls end up jaded Good boys end up chasing that paper They all get whored out Ced’ told me “Life got us all Vic, no hold outs” I’m spitting it quicker You gotta realize there’s more to these pictures It’s hurt in these words Written by a mind that’s disturbed I see the troubles of the…

  • Poetry,  Vic Stanley

    Dominate

    Written by Victor Stanley Jr.   Ran from the game then I came back Askin’ “Where the pain at?” Look dog I gotta change that From the sorrow to the joy and These cats wanna make all this noise To shut out the fear, in the silence that they’re trying to avoid Maneuvers employed to build and destroy is a false theology No life in that ecology I murdered the dichotomy That had my hands in evil, my thoughts in love, But my plans deceitful, The plug and the grams illegal Love for my mans but this clan will eat you, Watch life defeat you I was snatched from the…

  • Poetry,  Vic Stanley

    Paper Chayse

    Written by Victor Stanley Jr.       Who knew, that these cats would do things Business as usual Covert operations before they showed they’re true blue We was raised to peep the imposters, No use for boo hoos We play the game proper I see ya baby You looking real eager baby Why don’t you come step on the blocka, I hustled streets from South Beach to D.C.’s Northeast, Pulling through Chicago’s South Side Backroads of Indiana Slang laced with Virginia grammar Cali cats holding hammers Plug in Pittsburg Philly cats in Lynchburg Bmore whores and Richmond chores Mtown doors and Pdub wards I really did it, really lived…

  • Poetry,  Vic Stanley

    Jesus Wept

    Written by Victor Stanley Jr.       I puts it all together Me and these hustler’s that used to ball together Can no longer weather these storm together My solution to dissolve these problems is a different type of solvent All men will soon stand in awe when The Lord stand before all them Christ they rejected demands their respect and They used to stand chest out on their own two feet I was just like them, Jesus was foreign to me, Now I spend life with holes worn through jeans Humbled to my knees Praising this King More than a 180 I used to worship my disease Drone…

  • Poetry,  Vic Stanley

    SO SINCERE

    Written by Victor Stanley Jr.   I’m locked in the streets way of thinking But the world I exist in keeps on insisting That I behave all politically correct, But in my heart I harbor the resistance, Rebellious persistence Against the way that you dudes walk and talk I keep distance between my pearls of wisdom and ya’lls foolish thoughts Sometimes I black(out) and overreact ‘Bout to resort back to fistfights and straps I just might attack these arrogant young lads, Remind them exactly what this is How I used to live, Hustle, rob, and pimp, What I used to did, But I recover from the relapse, No longer a…

  • Poetry,  Vic Stanley

    One Day…

    Written by Victor Stanley Jr.   How could it all have come to this? I remember days when I was young and bliss Life removed the ignorance, it’s a, cold world Destroyed my self-esteem as a youth That’s why me, and my ‘ol girl could never get it right Insecurities while securing these packs But before all that I was knocked on my back Pain in my frame it’s a shame drug dealer I, Fit the image of everything they said I’d be, Just a nigga… I moves on from that Demonic shadows on this path, I wonder if I’ll last Air is thin here, try not to gasp Shallow…

  • Poetry

    I Wonder What You Bleed…

    Written by Evan Meinke   There is nothing worse than to have the desire to cry and finding the inability to. Everything gets bottled up, pressurized, and you just desire to die along with those you view as wretched in your community. This is where we found you at. He was the only one who believed in you. We don’t know a whole lot about your mother who bore you, the woman who conceived you. We do know some of your cousin. He really believed that you could change the world, and that you truly were everything you claimed to be. But it is interesting that at the end of…

  • Poetry,  Vic Stanley

    Writing On The Wall

    Written by Victor Stanley Jr.   Only customers around us hustlers How you want it? I’ve been through some trouble bruh I survived death’s nightmare during broad daylight, Life’s right there, I refuse to reach out and touch it Far more than stubborn ain’t budging ’cause I love it No budget for this power you see A gangster’s prestige is seething with greed We impoverished the streets ’cause these souls that we eat We don’t bother to keep, We farming with seed that fills the gardens with weed, Poppy plants and coca leaves, You know the story how I got set free, Now I commune with the saints and rock…