TruthBeTuesdays #1 (Her Words)

#TruthBeTuesdays

Her word play stays on my brain bout as permanent as my name, that twist you feel in your chest as your deepest pain...that’s how she grips my chest. How I let you free to roam amongst the rest... my test...move forward knowing he stole the best. I’m saying I thought about you today, and yesterday, when I wake and when I lay...shit you still got it babe.  My inspiration into these stanzas that used to coincide with your rhymes and remedy, way back with you and me our poems served as the worlds interrogation. Regulations to the drama, you were daughter to my mama and beyond all my right hand, my Bonnie, my partner.  But just reflections...photographs...and now that it’s free back to my protection, They say the color for coward is yellow...man you know I hate yellow, but it was yellow how I just went and let go...so...hello...just in case you see it...hello....hello...

By: Tyrone Alcorn, Jr.
Taidon aka Definition Of Nice

Adams Apple

A good man isn't a perfect one, a good man is an honest man, a good man will know no boundaries to bettering himself, a good man is selfless, not selfish, and understanding. A good man is not demanding, in fact a good man is your servant, to your mind, body and soul. A good man will see your pain and give you HIS heart to hold. A good man isn't a perfect one...he may move from servant to serpent, sneaking in the shadows and leaving venom coursing through veins...you now curse his name. However a good man is not fatal, and do you hate? No but hurt ? Yes! As the stress on your heart build as love digress,  what is your focus? Will it be the good man's worst, or the good man's best. Will you accept your extended memories  with a servant or your short woes with a serpent? A good man knows time spent, he knows days your back bent in cause of him, he knows scratches from going to the edge of tree limbs, for him, he knows the tears cried in happiness and in pain from him, because a Good man may be a woe but never a foe. A good man remains to massage out the pains, to dry the tears , to bring sunshine out from rain, he has done wrong, but fights to reclaim. A bad man is ONLY a serpent, A serpent with a home. A bad man cannot be domesticated, and as you cry your tears nightly he will not waver but feel liberated. Keeping you down is the mission, a bad man is not concerned with you living, nor being forgiven.  You may die from the bite a 1000 times, empty apologies and repetitive lines. See a bad man never grows, he simply rewinds. But a good man is not fatal, just a thought. As you try to teach a serpent domesticated ways, and so quickly end the servants stay. Let me insert these words if I may. A good man...isn't a perfect one..

By: Tyrone Alcorn, Jr.
Definition Of Nice

Thoughts of The Neptunian

I am not a Martian, I hail from Neptune as they say. To the contrary however I am as warm as sunlight running the sides of this planet we call Earth. Females seek my warmth, miles away, yearning to be comforted by a body of familiarity. How is it I am much further and distant, but you relate? How is it you yourself are so cold? Is it because females hail from the heat driven planet of Venus, stranded...on this rock we cal Earth. They are chilled and misunderstood from the male domination running ice trails, from Mars. This rock is warmth so they adapt and made for each other these species are. What sets me apart...being from much colder depths, analyzing this ‘alien’ species they call humans...and in deeper depths what they call ‘female’. Emotional creatures they are...seeking my adaption of warmth, companionship, my understanding of them and taking advantage of the intent to learn more, to listen to every cipher of sound that is muddled from their mouths. Using my ‘foreign’ abilities to build dams across their eyes to eradicate the meaning of cry. With reflexes faster than light catching each every drop of love and care that drips from their lips? Where I am from we waste nothing, so why should this treasure...be any different. Using my super hearing to hear the calls for help within, without her needing to say a word...is this what they conflict with being near me. Do I scare you...or do I simply reflect what you are missing...Segregation or alienation of my presence is inevitable...Maybe you are simply alien...to your needs. I can be blinded and still see.

By: Tyrone Alcorn, Jt.
Definition Of Nice

Destiny

Her love for poetry is emotional
The arts are simply her story untold
If these words creep into the depth of her soul
Who am I to know?
She would never let it show,
In life's reality she is an enigma
Like myself I see her persona as a stigma
In a world cold with judgements
Her uniqueness is a social annulment
It is the words she will come to grow with
The picture will bless her with a kiss
And in ignorant bliss
Be the depth she falls in love with...
The Arts are simply her story untold
Her love for poetry is exceptional
More than any addiction defined by medical
These passions lie dormant
Waiting for words spoken
Deeply awoken,
By a sculpture she will come to make love to
Stanzas she will marry to,
And play cool with rhyme schemes she can finally listen to
The arts ...are her story waiting to unfold
And her love for poetry...will be her destiny.

By: Tyrone Alcorn, Jr.

Definition Of Nice