{{Artistic Physics}}

The Borrower

Excuse me love, I need a favor
A BIG but LITTLE favor
Can I borrow some love?
You don’t think I’m serious right?
Well I’m serious and I promise I’ll return the favor
And if this tickles your interest you can charge me interest
Whatever pleases your wishes
Besides zero, any amount of love will do
But I’m no different from the average
Give me an inch and I’ll take a mile
What man in his right mind wouldn’t do the same?
I’m thinking light years
Its funny how on smoggy nights you make the stars peak out of the pollution
As if they appeared just for you
The stars probably trying to borrow some love too
So can I borrow some love from you?
I will cheerfully repay you
You are worth much more than a student loan to me
If you were an institution for higher learning….
I would never graduate or see a Degree
My cap and gown would be replaced with ambition for the first school day
If I did graduate….
I would come back and be a professor
More or lesser
Just to impress her
To show her I’m not always so carnal
And that I am capable of loving her and expressing the same emotions she does
When you are gone I miss you
When you are here I hold you
Everything else is bliss
Excuse me Miss…..I need a favor

-Angelo “The Duke” Hopson © 2009

The Continuum

The morning, just before sunrise
When the blades of grass are trickling with dew
Looking pass dirty sidewalks and empty Coke bottles
Looking pass palm trees, cedars, and apartment buildings that block my view
Like a first love, a hole you don’t mind falling into
You never desired anything more,
Except the morning after a night of lovemaking
Waking up next to you falling deeper into you after each passing hour
Looking at you, sleeping, wondering if you dreaming about me
And I, wondering if this is reality
Or could it be another dream that I wake up disappointed
If being with you is true, I don’t mind being restless
Like the sunrise I look forward to you
If I have to hurdle across every obstacle to get to you
If I have to look pass every object that blocks my view of you
Until my thirst is quenched, which it will never be
No amount is enough for me
My only request is that you continue to love me

-Angelo “The Duke” Hopson

Three Corners

Society: A product of a malnourished brain. The 2009 runaway slave, chasing after fortune and fame. Believing all they have in this world is their balls and chains. Childless Mothers receiving letters from a rectangular prism. (We call it prison.) Her tears smear the ink before she can finish them. She is like an old Sycamore tree. Like it’s trunk, her heart has a wide diameter but she is sweet as Maple leaves. A complexion of mixed green, tan and cream. Forever Winter until her son is freed.

Success: Tainted by video vixens, luxury cars and riches. The wealthiest men are men content with the least. Unconscious pleasures are fiercer than any beast no matter how big it’s claws or how sharp it’s teeth. Dead men tell no tales. Love for material things is a fire that burns the trails. Consumed by lust and greed. In the end, what have they really achieved?

Stupidity: The art form of fools. Where ignorance prevails amongst the masses. Where competitiveness meets nonsense. Where instead of competing to see who can acquire the most knowledge and wisdom, we compete to see who can throw a pigskin the farthest. We compete to see who can hit the hardest. We compete to see who got a nicer jump shot or who can hit a clutch free throw. We compete to see who can fit the biggest rims on our cars. We compete to see who can f*ck the most hoes before contracting a venereal. We compete to see who’s wardrobe is closest to Hollywood stars. We compete…….

But I stopped showing up for practice.

-Angelo “The Duke” Hopson

Random Observation #1

I see kids playing in parks covered with sulfur
Gun shots and what nots
Freewill replaced by pop culture
Skin tight jeans and Mohawks
Boys and girls shopping at the same stores
Our youth being raised by whores
Young men using the recession as an excuse to rob, steal and kill
Streets blocked off with yellow tape while crime scene investigate
Somebody died over a man they never met embedded on paper
(Like you and Benjamin Franklin was related)
Money make the world go round, but how fast?
Kids grow up in an instant
Like microwaveable adults
Having sex at an early age
Thinking that a piece of plastic can stop AIDS
Teen pregnancy and STD’S
People claiming they hate Pedophiles but they still listen to R.Kelly
Men in their 30′s still thinking like they 16, nothing is sweet
Too scared to change
Too scared of being laughed at
Too scared of being ridiculed
Too scared of integrity
Too scared to stick out
I refuse to be 2-D, I would rather be cut out then to be glued in the wrong place
Somebody has to step up
Somebody has to stop being scared
Somebody has to set an example
Somebody has to stop talking and start DOING
Our kids are going astray
If our children are destroyed then we are destroyed
Because they are our future

-Angelo “The Duke” Hopson

Penetrate Her

If you think this memoir is about sex……
You can close this page and move on to the next
If you let me, I can penetrate much deeper than that
I can make your heart flutter, like when you were a virgin
Like when you were absent from promiscuity
Like when you dreamed about wild flowers and charms
When you thought you knew love but you were just knocking at the door
When love had arms……as well as hands
Hands that embraced you
……Her…..
She was a canvas……
And I, the tip of a paintbrush dipped in acrylics
Before you were empty and filled with space
……Her…..Awaiting my many brush strokes
I finish slow, never rushing, never hesitating, never anxious, never sloppy
(I take my time)
I have a palette with an endless amount of paint
(Look at the Masterpiece I create)
Auburn eyes and Amber lips
Butter skin mixed with brown sugar and cinnamon
Hair straight like rivers but tends to curl in the wind
Her arms, holding herself as if I were there
Her hair caressing her shoulders
Closing her eyes and imagining the sensation
One hand on her breast, the other occupying her hips
She exhales as the desire jolts through her fingertips
Her legs become weak and her toes curl
A heart that was once stilled is beating like a tribal drum
A drum so loud that it may tip over water
A drum so loud that even when silenced, her subconscious remembers the beat
Then She…………******
She was a volcano that lied dormant……..until now
No longer calm, no longer lukewarm
She is beyond satisfication, beyond gratification, beyond stimulation
But I am still not done yet
The next piece will have more colors and more strokes
So I will put this one away and save it for my private collection
If she permits me, I will exhibit

-Angelo Hopson © 2009

“I Write Like” Part 1

I write like people did before me
Before Paper Mills and advanced technology
Way before oppression, inequality, injustice, robbery and slavery
I write like a freedom fighter, dodging bullets of mental and physical abuse
Ridiculed because I speak truth
(If I were a liar I would have a million friends)
I write like I dwell in the belly of a whale,
Surrounded by rib cage and heavy saturation
While I sit on a plank of wood wondering if i’ll fall victim to digestion
(All I think about is my mistakes.)
I write like I can’t speak for shhhhhhhhh…….
As If I were born with no vocal cords, neither do my lips exist
I write with urgency, like I gotta take a piss with no public restroom
So I find a Pine tree and hope nobody sees me
(If I do be seen, please don’t let it be by children or the elderly)
I write exactly whats on my mind, no fabrications or exaggerations
When I write it reflects life, much like my artwork, every piece has a message
(Never kill the messenger)
I write like I have been sleep, then awaken suddenly
(I see others still satisfied with slumber.)
I write like I paid attention in class, no man can call me illiterate
I read more than Sports Illustrated and Hollywood Gossip
(I read what gets me lifted.)
I write like i’m grateful for everyday i’m living
No one is promised tomorrow
I wish I could write God a thank you letter
But FedEx doesn’t fly to Heaven
(I continue to weigh my blessings)

Foreword: Be of good character. Stand up for whats right even if it means you get bashed or if you lose friends. You can’t please everybody if you doing the right thing. The friends that are important will love you regardless. Learn from your mistakes but don’t dwell on them! Think about how you can improve yourself. Always respect your Elders, you can use their knowledge and wisdom to your advantage. Set a good example for our youth. Whether you know it or not, they look up to you. And never kill the messenger. If your parent or friend is giving you a rough message then they are probably trying to help you in some way. People who are on you the hardest probably love you the most. So don’t be so quick to reject them. The best medicine has the worst taste. And take some time to read a book or do some creative writing. (Besides for class, Myspace, Facebook, Twitter,etc.) Lay off the reality shows for a while and feed your mind! “A man who never reads a book has no advantage over the man who CAN’T read a book.” Last but not least, be GRATEFUL for what you have! You might not have a fancy car, diamonds/jewelry, a big house or be a millionaire but thank God for what you have already! Be thankful, the best is yet to come. Always remember that there is always somebody doing WORSE than you so count your blessings. -Angelo Hopson

“I Saw a Rose” by Angelo Hopson

Prelude: I saw a rose today and it made me think about society. Feel free to repost this in your notes.

I saw a rose today.
It was a few shades brighter than Crimson
You could still see the dew left from the Morning on the petals
The way the Sun shined made the rose stick out from the rest
I was compelled to touch it
To my surprise, the rose was brittle, abandoned by warmth and subdued by resentment
Then I saw another rose two feet away
It was a Maize yellow, much older than the first one
The rose was full but many of the petals had fallen off
The petals that were left had brown tips, the color of a dying rust
Even the thorns were dulled off or either broken
Neither did the light show mercy, it seemed to miss the rose entirely
Many would say the rose doesn’t belong
Yet unlike the others, it stood alone, it stood strong
So I embraced the rose out of pure curiosity
I made sure to stay vigilant since it was fragile and meek.
The rose was soft, comforting and held excessive gratification
And it also left a sweet smelling oil on my hands that made my skin shine
For once the critics were right, partially right, this rose doesn’t belong here
Instead of being whipped by wind or punished by persona
It should be the display of a King’s garden, held with the upmost respect and honor

-Angelo Hopson

Foreword: Why do people always put the strong, the athletic, the powerful, the rich and the beautiful on a pedestal? Why shouldn’t the heart be taken in consideration rather than replaceable attributes? You can be strong one day and weak the next. You can be athletic one day but injured the next. You can be powerful one day but impotent the next. You can be rich one day and broke the next. You can be beautiful one day but scarred for life the next day. I’m not trying to bash anyone, i’m just speaking my mind. Don’t get with a woman because she has a nice ass or because she “looks” flawless. And ladies don’t get with a man because of his bankroll. Get with someone who appreciates things you have and things you DON’T have. Instead of finding somebody who loves you for who you are……find somebody that will love you for who YOU ARE NOT. God bless

Journal Entry #8435

I sit outside on the patio
Looking over the neighborhood like pigeons tend to
No music or radio,
Just the one that them niggas across the street play
All I’m thinking is what i’m gonna write today
Palm trees in the distance
Observing the hand I write with
Imagining how I came into existence
I believe I was born in the wrong time period
I should have been a slave,
Sneaking off to read books and other forms of Literature
I should have bled to death with all the beatings I came across
I should have been a mourner with Mary,
The day that Jesus died on the cross
I should have been a hitman
I would’ve assassinated Hitler before the Holocaust
Or maybe I would have told his Father to wear a rubber
I should have died a long time ago
I could see myself as a Black Panther,
With my right hand in a fist held high
Beautiful black brother of mine (As Curtis Mayfield would say)
I should have been an Apostle,
Traveling the world and spreading the word
Using the Bible as my sword,
I could teach all Races and Nations about the Lord
I should have been a royal portrait artist,
Capturing Kings and Queens on canvas
But now the world has changed
Nobody is on the same boat,
People fly planes
Everybody has forgotten about culture and from where they came
Global Warming is the least of our problems
Pollution of our minds is the one we should be solving

Angelo Hopson © 2009

“Contentment”

We lay in bed with only an inch between us
Our lips only a half an inch
Your right hand gently caressing my right cheek
As we lay under lavender sheets with the moonlight intruding the room
which comes in through the balcony doors
We were out there earlier
Hugging and kissing,
Content with the love we both have been missing
Besides the reflection of stars in your eyes, their was gratification
Our hearts pulsating like a sonar
Bouncing off these four walls then back to ours
And me, still beside you, even closer than before
Absorbing the love that escapes your pores
Wishing that I never had to work, eat or sleep
I could just be a captive for the rest of my days
My ball and chain
Never the slightest thought of escaping
You can set me free but happiness is no possibility
I don’t want to run and play like kids do
I don’t want to imagine a day that my heart doesn’t beat for you
I don’t want to indulge myself in selfishness like most men do
And I surely don’t intend to meet anybody better than you
You thought I was lying when I said I was for real
Now that we’ve grown, you know better
You so smart and confident
You know another female could not turn me on the least bit
You know i’m not a dog, I am a lion and I take pride in you
So we lay in these lavender sheets, making love until we both sleep
The Sun rose early that morning
The Moon told The Sun that we would make love again in the morning

Angelo “The Ghetto StoryTeller” Hopson © 2008

“Apology to Myself / Tough Love”

I apologize to myself, most sincerely
I apologize to myself for making wrong decisions
I also apologize for disrespecting women
Even the ones who deserved it,
You know, the girls who called themselves women
The dumb, stuck up ones, who think they independent
But still live with their parents
Hah, go figure
Nevertheless I apologize, i’m actually a nice guy
I just have a low tolerance for ignorance and bullshit
So if I left her because of that, should my reputation be tarnished?
I mean really, if you were smart you’d do the same
Unless you were insane
Their I go again with the names
I wonder what people call me
It doesn’t matter, words never harmed me
I always seemed to harm myself
By negative thinking and not taking heed to the day
On the other hand, I find the phrase “Live everyday like your last” childish
If this was my last day do you think I would be worried about working?
Paying bills? School? Or our economy and the Downfall of it? Hell no.
I wouldn’t get shit done.
I would get closer to God though
Me being the stupid person I am, I am too selfish to fully commitment myself to the Lord.
That is why God keeps our deaths a mystery
If he told us the exact date everybody would be in Church trying to get saved
So Lord, I apologize to you as well as me
I have no excuse for not fully submitting to you
But I do love you
You blessed me with great wisdom, knowledge and gratification at such an early age.
A foolish man would hate struggle,
A wise man would love struggle, it can only precipitate so much a day.
Then comes the sun
And to think, I thought the Devil was trying to torment me
No, it was God all along, molding me into the man he wants me to be

Angelo “The Ghetto StoryTeller” Hopson © 2008

“What the Fuck is Love?”

I heard love was honey
So I raided a bee hive
I was stung multiple times
And neither did I find a Queen

What the Fuck is Love????

I thought love was a pitcher of red Kool-Aid
I poured a glass but it was bitter to the taste
Similar to Gatorade
Next time i’ll make it myself

Again….What the Fuck is Love????

They say love will bless you
How can I know if I don’t have a cold?
Maybe when I get old and my immune system becomes low
If I can endure, what would be my cure?
Or would I be sick of love for the rest of my existence?

Again I say……What the Fuck is Love????

I did some research and asked Webster
He responded…..Love is a feeling of warm personal attachment
Or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend.
If that is what love is then why do I see parents neglecting their kids?
They leave guidance up to the television, the streets and their friends
On the other end, I see children disrespect their Mothers and Fathers
Ignorant to the fact that their parents have worked hard and continue to do so
And if love is in a friend then why do they seem to come and go so thorough?
Their has to be a better definition of love.

Now can somebody….anybody….any soul that dwells in this realm of Earth….

Please tell me What the Fuck is Love????

-Angelo “The Ghetto StoryTeller” Hopson © 2008

“Curiosity”

If curiosity kills the cat then i’m damn near my demise
I’m curious about you
If I engaged in conversation,
Would your interest in me lead to curiosity
Which would eventually lead to us conversating on a more intellectual level
Would you respond to the questions I ask
Or even more importantly would you respond at all
I’m curious if intimidation will stop me from approaching you
I know a million men approached you
And those who succeeded are few
Is it the way your heels hit the floor
Or is it the way your bangs swing back and fourth
What is it that attracts me to you
And I don’t even know you
But can I change that
Would it be possible to pull this off
Would it be possible to make us possible
Is me getting your number probable
I haven’t heard you speak
But i’m sure it sounds as sweet as Angels when they sing
Mesmerized yet i’m petrified
Like stone,
I couldn’t move even if I wanted to
If only dreams came true
I’d come to you, minus the shyness
Every King needs a Highness
I’m ready to throne you today
Curiosity is killing me
If I was a cat i’d be on my last life
She is worth every one
As she walks by with a smile bright as the Sun
My only Sin is that i’ll never see her again

-Angelo Pierre’ Hopson Copyright © 2007

“Since When”

Since when does a woman not want to be loved
Since when did an erection become more important than her affection
Since when do women careless about self respect
Since when do women call each other bitches
But still bitch about men when we say bitch
Ain’t that some shit
Since when…..
Since when did it become alright not to have courtesy
Since when did being a gentleman become a turn-off
Since when……
I guess gentlemen went out of style
Since when did writing poetry for you become void
I write just to show you I care and that I want to be in your future
I also write because my mouth won’t let me tell you how I feel
Since when do women appreciate the big things but not the small things
Is ambition worth anything nowadays
Since when do women feel content with being alone and in solitude
Since when did it become so difficult to find a woman who loves you
Since when did love become a fairytale
Since when……
Since when did it hurt so much to love
Since when do women complain about how their heart’s been broken before
Yet I stand in front of you but you reject my plee to mend it
So fuck every last one of you
Because of you my heart is filled with hatred
Since when are good men driven astray
When women like you exist

-Angelo Pierre’ Hopson Copyright © 2007

“Ready to Love You”

I’m ready to love you
I’m ready to put you high on a pedestal
I’m ready for your mind as well as your body
I’m ready to leave the weed alone and get high off you
I’m ready to adore you
I’m ready to miss you then see you again
I’m ready to love you, honestly
I’m ready for honesty
I’m ready to get trapped in your eyes
I’m ready to be your captive
I’m ready for full moons and starry nights
I’m ready for twilight kisses
I’m ready for beauty
I’m ready for ten, twenty, thirty years from now
And I will still be amazed by your beauty
I’m ready for commitment
I’m ready to be content with what I have, which is you
I’m ready to propose to you
I’m ready to get on one knee for you
I’m ready to give you a lifetime supply of me
I’m ready to receive, you
I’m ready for you to be ready for me
I am more than ready
I am ready for “No not tonight”
I’m ready for tomorrow night
I am more than ready
You mean more to me than my spine
You are my backbone,
I am ready to stand with you and fall without you
You mean everything to me
I love you and I have been ready
Then my alarm rings

-Angelo Pierre’ Hopson Copyright © 2007

“Last Poem”

I have said what I have to say
A million times and over
Now it’s like I’m driving against a one way
One day you will realize that you were a part of a man’s real life
I been moving in slow motion for so long
Almost like a still life
Slow motion better than no motion I’m hoping
It aches to pick up the pace when not all my ways are Godlike
I am lost at sea
A sailor searching for a searchlight
The captain of my own ship
So if it goes down then I go down with it
Life is a trip
The sane can’t live it and the insane can’t forget it
You bought my thoughts
In return I let you keep the change
From the start,
Times got hard
Raised by a single parent so that should tell you I have heart
I love my Mother,
Even though we don’t get along that well
She kept us warm in the Winter
And cool in the Summer
Times were so bad till we would just bust out and laugh
It may sound crazy but that kept us from breaking down
When I glance back
I notice that I am glad I went through that
It made me resourceful and remorseful
Depending on people is like asking to be let down
Independence is beautiful
Also vital
Those who are mentally dead,
I wrote to revive
Been months,
Still I am stuck in her eyes
Nor can she hear my cries
She was a vessel that I could not breach
Or more like a star that I could not reach
Like line one,
I’ve said all I have to say
So if my point hasn’t came across
Then I need to sharpen the pencil
A poetic silhouette
Cut from the rest like stencils
Accused of being simple
Simply because I am mental

-Angelo Hopson Copyright © 2007

Memoirs of a Man

Can a sinner ever reap a reward
If so, when can I receive my spoils of war
Bloodshed no more
Wounds heal slow and score deep
To patch them would be like trying to patch a shore
Lord heal my sores
Lead me to clear skies and safe shores
Protect me even though I’m not righteous
And direct me from the unrighteous
Only you can save me,
Not only from sin but from this world I dwell in
Asking for relief and not death
Lord I want to serve you while I still have breath
You have given me the key,
Yet I stand in front a closed door
I need to love you more
I admit I have stubborn ways
Felt less than a man the day I cried
Even lions have pride
But you told me that pride comes before a fall
If I happen to fall,
Let me fall into your arms
Lord send me shelter from this storm
The waters and lightning may cause harm
Still you hide me in your palms
Thank you for all you have done
God help me,
I want to be more like your son

-Angelo Hopson Copyright © 2007

“Riot”

The mind of a writer is a riot
I tame words like lions
Call it pen abuse,
I write till my ink starts crying
It shows through the back of the page,
Like marks on the backs of slaves
That girl I was writing about,
Well she was just a difficult phase that I was unable to fade
I still love her, no denying that
Deprived me of love, and that is fact
Least I possess a pen,
A writer’s bestfriend
And when the ink dries and the poem is over,
My paper will be left with a fever
And my pen will suffer a hangover
This world is cold
May get gangrene from carrying problems on my shoulder
These are memoirs of a soldier
At war with words
Men find peace only in the decease
I dispose of those who oppose to expose their true selves
They are like demons hiding from their true forms
You can unravel nothing of me
I am who I am
I can change who I am but I would still be who I am
She made me what I am,
The epitome of mysery
Why can’t she leave me be
Why must she even speak to me
Or must I show you the door
Pretend like I don’t even exist,
Like a thought that you just missed
Fuck you and your shit
To Refrain from speaking to me is my only wish
Damn, I tried not to cuss and shit
But there is a riot
And this is the only way to diminish it

-Angelo Hopson Copyright © 2007

“Addict”

Like a man with no feet,
I can’t kick the habit
You look good and your good at it
I should have never seen you
Because now I’m an addict
Eyes like pearls and dimples like schoolgirls
Her hair in curls,
With a physique not of this world
Now you see why I need rehab
Somebody call me a cab
Just don’t call me mad
I tried medication,
It did nothing but run out my patience
Like Dora I want to explore her
I can be her Christopher Columbus
And she can be my promised land
So high in the clouds,
Can’t promise that I will land
Please take my hand, not in marriage
Well at least not yet
I’m too drugged,
Experiencing side effects like Vietnam War vets
Not sure if I can ever find a cure
Maybe a gentle kiss
The Heavens would open and shine on this
A simple touch from her would turn me into gold
Still the smile on my face will remain bold
Forever in a frozen balance,
Like fools who wonder if they have talents
Or liars who are caught in their lies
My friend said that Cupid ran out of arrows
So I’m left in despair and sorrow
No chance of love tomorrow
Just scattered showers and thunderstorms

-Angelo Hopson Copyright © 2007

“Force”

Give me what is rightfully mine
Or must I take it by force
I can teach you a thing or two
But I won’t, I’d rather show you
I can lead you to water,
But I can’t make you drink
I can feed you food for thought,
But I can’t make you think
I can give you a vessel,
But I can’t repair it once it sinks
I can buy you a horse,
But I can’t choose your course
Many things in life can not be given
They must be taken by force

-Angelo Hopson Copyright © 2007

“My Lyrical Myrical”

You think I’m pitiful,
No I’m lyrical
Better yet I’m a myrical
An intriguing sight,
I could watch you all day like my favorite show
What turns me on even more is that you’re not a whore
Even though you probably did some nasty things before
If I held you I would never let go
Hard keeping my composure, so I act distant
Jehovah can be my witness
Fighting feelings is relentless
So I step out the ring and take off my gloves
I adore you but I’ve lost too many rounds to love
Listen love, I know I’m not your type of guy
I’m the type that fly
All I ask of you is to give me a try
If not then I’ll live my life and watch time pass by
You are a diamond that I can’t afford to buy
Like a judge, you should give me time
Like the rest you think I just want sex
Not I, I am the first and last of my kind
A man that will fall in love with a woman’s mind
As I rewind, I did not always walk a straight line
Had many females at one time,
But breaking hearts was never a crime of mine
What I say may sound obtuse
Still it’s the truth
I’d rather lose a tooth before I lose you
She shines the brightest in the midst of jewels
And in the presence of kings she rules
Said you would never love again
You may break that rule, real soon
If you ever annihilate that mental cocoon
Which blocks a man from loving you instead of your womb
A heart that is a sacred tomb,
I would gladly dwell until the day of my doom
God works miracles
Like Earth’s moon,
I revolve around a love that is spherical
Even though her ways are mystical
She is the perfect example of My Lyrical Myrical

-Angelo Hopson Copyright © 2007

“The Beach”

It is finally sunset,
And the stars are peaking out of the sky’s chest
The tide has come in,
So now the shore tickles our feet
As we view the falling sun
Your skin complexion becomes that of the sun
Like a pearl washed upon the beach,
You are a treasure indeed
I am so in need to please,
Your body as well as your mind
Love is hard to find and even harder to keep
So I hold you tight,
Until the stars outshine the night
The sands turn into our sheets
Our sheets into desire, desire into pleasure
And pleasure into passion
We could be set on fire and still couldn’t get hotter
Inside you are burning like a bond fire
I bond to your fire, I am your lighter
Addicted to you like nicotine
And no I can’t quit
A fiend for your lips
What type of love is this
So anxious, no need to strip
As your arms wrap around my hips,
You moan and make the birds chatter
They are our only audience but it doesn’t matter
An angel with a pure gift
We both experience pure bliss

-Angelo Hopson Copyright © 2007

“Ice Age”

You are as cold as the Ice Age
Just because you have the body of a Goddess
It’s alright to be rude and dishonest
You are beautiful but childish
I guess everyone doesn’t mature with age
And you swear you modest
There is nothing cute or poetic about having an attitude
And you wonder why you can’t get a decent dude
Cold as an arctic breeze
Not even a polar bear could be in your presence,
He would freeze
You make other guys drool,
To me you are an ignorant fool
With the mind capacity of a rat’s lung capacity
Shakespeare could not write your tragedy
God don’t like ugly and neither do I
I’m not trying to scorn you
I’m here to inform you
That what you do may one day come back to you
Ten times worse than what you put someone else through
I bet you feel there’s no need to be nice
Yeah you cold but global warming will eventually melt your ice

-Angelo Hopson Copyright © 2007

“Lyrical Jewel”

My mind is a lyrical jewel
And I rhyme to shine light into the minds of ignorant fools
Like a mechanic but no wrenches, lugs or screws
Just paper, pen and the metaphors I use
I equip myself with these tools
Then sit back and relax like frogs on toadstools
And when I write it’s a first class flight
That will take you to my life and well past the night
They can recite my rights,
But they would rather see me do wrong then right
Be aware that I am a bear
My lyrics catch one’s attention like a rabbit in a snare
I stay in the clouds,
Ink is my airfare
My life is my luggage
And the sky is my budget
Hard times and struggles, I learned to love it
Complaining does nothing but amuse the public
I can copyright my poems but my mind I can never publish

-Angelo Hopson Copyright © 2007

“Rose Petals”

I hear the whispering of the meadows
Followed by the swaying of rose petals
If I was a pilgrim, this is where I would settle
And rest under sycamore trees,
As I enjoy the humid breeze with faint smells of mint leaves
Like Adam in the Garden of Eden without an Eve
When Eve comes the sun hides behind the rocks
And gives off an orange hue that makes the birds watch
Like time when it stops
Yet I lay,
As I see the breeze free rose petals from captivity
Then suddenly realize that I am in the presence of divinity
Yet I lay,
In the wild but still humble as a child
So a smile crosses my face
I can never be displaced from this place
If I had to go, abandonment would be my foe
Even the rose petals know

-Angelo Hopson Copyright © 2007

“Reality”

I wish reality were a fallacy
In all actuality,
I’d rather be dreaming about things I lack in reality
Like a woman’s warm embrace
Her smile makes the sun shine just a little brighter every day
And when I’m in her presence,
It seems like everything else is irrelevance
Around her I get lifted like John Legend
And she’s gifted like Christmas presents
I’ve been trying to find a girl like you since we first met
To my dismay, still no luck yet
I want to say that I’m tired of trying
But that is like a bird saying I’m tired of flying
Or a cosmetologist saying I’m tired of styling
So I dream,
A dream that plays over and over again
Like a re-run, except it can never bore me
Her love is so sweet,
She makes strawberries jealous
And she is so caring,
She makes care bears seem careless
But in reality,
She could probably careless if I loved her to death
And you wonder why I dream
Because dreaming is the only time I can have her to myself
Without interruption from anybody else
We stay close together like books on an over stacked shelf
If I were a rich man she would be my wealth
So I run from reality, just to have her to myself

-Angelo Hopson Copyright © 2007

“Ballpoint Pen”

I have a ballpoint pen
I use it to write my rhymes
To me poetry is like my past time
I write, then recite and watch time pass
They say nothing good never lasts
Like Martin, I’m trying to be free at last
How can a man be free at last when the pen he has
Lasts longer than the females he has
Love is like money and I’ve ran out of cash
Most of these girls are quick fixes
Quick to hit and slow to fix
So in this I reminisce
Why must I ride in the back of the ship?
While the slave masters sip on fine wines and crys’
Woe is this,
Like an acrobat I might flip
No watch on my wrist
So I watch myself like stars watch Saturn’s belt
On paper my ink melts
Love can wait, that’s why I put it back on the shelf
It may seem grim
But that’s how I feel
Me and my ballpoint pen

-Angelo Hopson Copyright © 2007

You

When I take a glance upon you
I can’t help but to smile at you
Life loves you and so do I
If I could only turn “I” into “We”
As you can see I’ve fallen deeply, in love
Yesterday my whole life flashed before my eyes
And you were in it, not to my surprise
We lead two different lives but at the same time
I want you like a husband wants a meal at dinnertime
And when night falls I dream of you
I picture you lying beside me, While we look into each others eyes
And realize that there is no other place in this world that we’d rather be
Obviously there is no escaping you
Trying to escape you is like trying to escape a tidal wave
So much love inside of me, it’s been held captive for days
I would gladly be your slave, in my arms you should never be afraid
Even in death my love for you would still be deeper than my grave

-Angelo Hopson Copyright 2007

The Prequel / Ecstasy Part 2

I don’t want to be where she’s not
Would probably follow her to Hell even though it’s hot
Usually the cool type, rather make love than to fist fight
Friends say I need a life
But when I think about her it relieves my pain and strife
Like a child with no wheels on a bike, I need you in my life
I often find it hard to concentrate, contemplate, or correlate
Due to constant visions of her when we elevate to another place
In between your thighs I marinate
As I gently slide it in our desire becomes sin
Inside you become wet enough to be an aqueduct
Doesn’t matter if we went all day because it still wouldn’t be enough
Couldn’t get any harder even if I was a boulder,
Until I placed her legs over my shoulder
Hearing you moan turns me on even more
Especially the way your hands feel wrapped around my back
Then your eyes roll back and suddenly you climax
As a matter of fact I still need to wash my sheets because of that
Your body is my souls remedy
I continually long to be inside your walls of Ecstasy

-Angelo Hopson copyright 2007

Another Chronicle of My Life

My Father made me but abandoned me
Like a chef except he didn’t care for the recipe
He might as well had buried me
My heart went from red to burgundy
Didn’t walk through life, I just slid
Mama couldn’t sleep because she was raising 6 kids
Struggling was hard but that was how a nigga lived
We used to eat sandwiches with no meat on em’
Now I hit up Subway and tell them put extra meat on em’
Met my father for the first time when I was sixteen
Embraced him like I had been through nothing
A wise man change but a foolish man stay the same
So it wasn’t a surprise that he stayed the same
Played me like you play a game
Had plenty pain but felt no gain
Tried to get a refund for my life,
But no receipt means no change

-Angelo Hopson copyright 2006

Untitled

So here I am, alone and thinking about the past
Wondering why we didn’t last
Maybe it was timing, dropped me off then drove right pass
Love is like a light, absinence makes the soul dim
As for lust, well that makes the soul sin
I thought I had the wisdom of men
Lost so many times till It seemed impossible to win
I felt ready, even told Cupid to say “when”
Being young and curious,
When I think about it
The end result made me furious
They said I was too young to be serious
Recalling the nights when she moaned so loud till the neighbors could hear us
Now their is no “us” due to mistrust
She passed class but failed at trust, She wondered if I had a mistress
Had no choice but to deal with distress
Eyes half closed like I was sleepless
My poetry might appear sublime
This is just my life, It just so happens to rhyme
I still miss her from time to time
Never again will I fall in love because it seemed like a good idea at the time

-Angelo Hopson copyright 2006

The Devil’s Kitchen Part 1

Knowledge is a meal, you should scrap the plate
Tastes so good, i’m stuffing my face
Came back for more when I already ate
It’s dinner time but people are showing up late
On the menu today, something called the “Truth”
It smells delicious but they don’t like the taste
In the Devil’s Kitchen, he serving ignorance plates
Feeds Mankind poison but he makes it taste great
For dessert, a slice of hate
Stomach aches, feel your midsection vibrate
Sick from Sin, all His laws we seem to violate
We’ve all gotten ill from eating at the Devil’s Kitchen
Their is medication though
The Word of God
You can’t possibly overdose

-Angelo Hopson copyright 2006

To a Queen from a King

We conversate quite often, for a moment just listen
An open mouth never sees a vision
Imagine this, your heart is my residence
The humble always attracts the arrogant
You might believe that I am ignorant
You right, your body is a code and I want to decipher it
Make love all night, anyone else I’d go celibate
Been hurt before so now your defense is up again
A true blessing from God, I don’t want to sin again
Like a preview of Heaven, I’m just visitin’

-Angelo Hopson copyright 2006

Original Poem by Me

For the Lady who longs for the love of a Gentleman
Not all Gentlemen are gentle men
Love and kindness, maybe gentle then
Men might Sin, but what intrigues a Man is innocense
Like a child, born with sin but still innocent
How I feel doesn’t make sense
Mentally broke, she’s taken my sense
Her love is the smoke from Incense
Eyes of Saphire and skin smooth as linens
She is the Woman of Women
Breath taking, surprised i’m still existin’
Love is taken and love is givin’
I’m so in love but I doubt she see
Overwhelmed by the feelings inside of me
If only they were inside of She
Give back my heart, that’s robbery

-Angelo Hopson copyright 2006

Ecstasy Part 1

I am like a Monk, living and praying inside your Temple
Only a fool thinks lovemaking is simple
Eager yet i’m gentle, Heaven sent you
Down to my Beach, I have a lesson to teach
Kiss her from the crown of her head to the sole of her feet
Both of our bodies wet like we sprang a leak
Legs in the air, my vessel in between
Now her Dam is breached
Like the first time except it’s better
There is nothing like sex in bad weather
Liable to die inside your Sanctuary if you get any wetter
Screaming my name in Ecstasy
No longer in control, She’s taken whats left of me
She scratches my back as I penetrate her Walls of Ecstasy

-Angelo Hopson Copyright © 2006