Well In-10-did ~ Phat_Cre8iv Lyrical Samples

Updated: Dec 23, 2021

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.


“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)


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, 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

A synapse

A sin, a saint

A center

A balance

Both grounded and flying



May 7, 2012 at 3:57 PM

Everywhere you look, treasures lie beneath

Did you know there is a message in silence,

opportunity in defeat,

Truth in lies and that action is a speech?

Are you aware there are diamonds in the dirt

worlds inside you

poverty inside money

and richness in your view

do you see there are promises inside nothing

and potential inside empty

do you sometimes hear devil in the word development

can you believe sometimes its more advanced to live simply

and there is more power in people than in the people of power

did you know imperfection is perfect for you

And you can see a reflection of god in your mirror

can you believe darkness is a form of light

death is a form of birth

and a rock is a form of life

have you seen the adults inside children

and the children inside adults, and the innocence inside everyone

look close enough and you will see rises in falls

ups inside downs

and rainbows inside storms

everywhere you look; know treasure lies beneath

and even in poop you will find fertilizer


May 7, 2012 at 4:00 PM

I had my child but now I've lost him.

I remember my child would dance in the rain

And to him it was fun and exciting

I need to find him so he can remind me that it is not wet and cold

Thunder wasn’t loud to him it was awesome

And a storm meant maybe he would see a rainbow

I need to find him again because only he could turn my life into an adventure

Reality into fantasy, an object into a toy, a task into a game

And a space into anything he imagined

I wish he was here to make this moment into a jungle expedition, an underwater excursion, a treasure island or a battle coliseum where good triumphed over evil

Cuz now that hes gone all I can see is a large room

Its like on my path to educate my brain I went too far and educated my heart

And now I make too much sense,

and trying to make sense out of everything is nonsense

my child had the purest heart

he could smile through anything, he ran everywhere, jumped on everything

and the best thing about him was when he would fall

that sounds like a funny thing to admire but it was such a gift

he would always learn so quick, and he would always bounce right back

he wouldn’t make a mistake the same way twice

but to him mistakes were okay and they were normal…to me that was so healthy

I cant wait till I find my child again

Cuz I cant remember the last time I fell

Poem: Sister Lock’s


I want to tell you a story about my sister’s and the strength of black women united.

But first let me tell you a story about my sister locks...

My sister locks are always on my mind.

They are more than an accessory,

they give me more than style.

My sister locks are part of me, inseparable.

Where I move they move.

They don’t look good, we look good.

They don’t smell nice, we smell nice.

And since we have expensive taste...

these are not just any ole sister locks,

these are the most fabulous sisters around…

I mean sister locks...around.

My sister locks are brown, just like me.

But it’s not just about how fly they look,

it’s about what they represent.

Each hair telling a different story,

originating from separate points,

yet sharing the same foundation.

These locks we’re always sisters,

even before they were locked.

Always thick and reaching for the sun.

Always African, Yyaaasss always African.

So maybe these sisters were destine to lock,

Because like the old African proverb says;

sisters....oops I mean hair…

can grow far alone, but grows farther together.

Stop me if I go too far, but before I tell you about my sister’s and the strength of black women united, let me tell you a few more thing about my sister locks.

These locks dance with me.

They know my moves, they share my rhythm.