Well In-10-did ~ Phat_Cre8iv Lyrical Samples

Below is a selection of poems, verses and free expressions that I have shared on social media platforms within the past 10 years. The 10 writings below are not all my best works but they are great shares, I hope you like. If you want to see/hear my best works I am sure you will want to purchase my book when it releases in 2022. Please check back here for updates and the release.

~Cre8iv1

“Paragraph. Period.” (9 out of 30 National Poetry Month)

MONDAY, APRIL 10, 2017

I wish I could paint a pretty picture and pretend I perform perfectly but I am a partial person and I don't presume to be pretentious about my problematic past or present. Nor does it bring me pleasure to posture like my position is far above par. Previously I plagiarized importance and penciled my pontifications on practically everything and I would probably still promote a preposterous pattern of permanent precision if I was still practicing pumping my own pom-pom's. So that my self perception is practical I am now policing my opinions, posts and public participation in order to prevent upholding false presentations of myself and not a pedal a putrid persona that pushes my off my pitiful parts as precipitation when they are essentially as poisonous as piss. Period.

"Day two" (2 of 30 National Poetry month)

SUNDAY, APRIL 2, 2017

Barely day 2,

Moments after day 1,

20 minutes past to be exact.

But what can change in 20 minutes?

Maybe nothing,

Maybe everything.

Maybe her mind,

Maybe my mind.

Or maybe the moon just falls and the sun just rises,

After midnight.

But there's something special about midnight.

Midnight the time of day,

And midnight the permanent address.

There's something truly depressing and something profoundly inspirational occurring at Midnight.

Then reoccurring at midnight.

At the time I should be asleep,

yet the time I am most awake.

My pen scratches pages, my thumbs scroll,

Or my eyes stare up, projecting daydreams on blank white ceilings. Right before my eyes close and my mind stares up, projecting nightdreams on deep black infinite spaces.

Midnight; the black space at the intersection of my right and left brain, at the center of the roundtable where my inner Democrat and inner Republican argue or the center of the ring where my inner balance puts them both in a headlock. Midnight my healthy dose of reality, my teacher. Because something about the friction of change makes midnight my torcher chamber and my torcher chamber my creative space.

Midnight.

Midnight, either an ugly war,

An indifferent parallel

Or a beautiful marriage!

A weird contrast between an infinite darkness and a rising sun.

With me in the middle choosing between freezing black or burning white. Wrestling my belief that one side is better and wondering that if I shake my tendency to lean would either freezing or burning become either warm or cool.

Here I am between standing and leaning, between the black and white veil.

Confused as all hell yet aware as all heaven.

There is nothing like change to let you know you have a pulse. And there is nothing on earth that doesn't have its 12:00am.

Right between goodbye and good morning

Right between picking up and hanging up

The point where you realize you are never either coming nor going, neither leaving nor staying rising nor falling nor any other absolute. When you realize you are not one or the other but just one another. When you realize there's something home about midnight.

The point of contact

A point of friction

A point of separation

A point of clarity

An intersection

An intercourse

A death

A birth

A reincarnation