In order to be a King, you must think like a King

Black King| Fresh outta college| music | poetry|

[mindofaking]

Gentrification:

Factories and warehouses that our grandparents slaved in and made minimum wage in

Are now renovated luxury apartments that the slave master’s great great great great grandkids lay in

[mindofaking]

I need poem topics

[mindofaking]

Inbox poetry

Reblog this post for poetry in your inbox

[mindofaking]

Don’t you miss the thrill of it all

Heart still racing like rollercoasters from the thought of it all

[mindofaking]

Heartbreak lane, Yeah I’ve traveled for miles

God bless this broken road

No infrastructure deal, cause there’s no hand to hold at this lonely table

[mindofaking]

Google

I appreciate that you have an answer for all my questions

Although some lead me down a rabbit hole while others lead me in the right direction

Sometimes you even finish my thoughts

I type how do I write and you say poem, sonnets

I hate how you correct me sometimes

I accidentally type what’s the perfect gift to gove for valemtines day?

You say searching instead for what’s the perfect gift to give for Valentine’s Day?

For the most part your are reliable

Except when I ask you what’s my purpose?

The results are very surface level

I ask you who am I?

You reply with songs, movies and personality test

Your answers to that question is never direct

Despite that I will say that you are considerate

You have similar questions under related searches

Reminding me that there are people in this world that think just like me

Then I look through the images and none of them look like me

You’ve never given me a sense of privacy

I guess that’s to be expected when your services are free

How does it feel to be worth billions

Is it negated by the fact that your used by millions

How does it feel knowing that you’ll always have an answer

But you’ll never be the answer

[mindofaking]

I need some poetry topics….please🙏🏾

[mindofaking]

May Poetry Game

Things don't always sound how they look like Wednesday

5/20 we celebrating the final years of my twenties

Dropping bad habits like old clothes at a thrift store

Putting myself first... Yeah this is new

Summer love reminds me of borrowed books that have to be returned too soon

Before social media we would only see each other once in a blue moon

I wonder since money is the root of all evil, what's the root of all joy?

Some one please let me know when you find the answer

The thought that I am living in my truth makes me feel free

Love can make hate disappear better than Houdini

To love and to be loved is a real treat

[mindofaking]

Inbox Poetry

Reblog this post , comment a topic, and I will drop a poem in your inbox.

[mindofaking]

Abandoned home

Brick by brick

Each brick covered with my ancestors fingerprints

Windows stained with pain because it reflects my true color

Pictures still hanging up on the wall

holding a thousand words but they don’t know how to hold a conversation

Closet still full of skeletons and the ones that couldn’t fit were placed in the attic

The basement is full of dusty dreams that couldn’t be turned into reality

The guard rails on the stairs are loose

Just like me anytime someone try’s to lean on me for support because I can barely support myself

I am just like this abandoned house

Leaving me to ask the question

How did I get like this?

I was not built alone

But I was left with no tools to keep up the maintenance on this abandoned body that my soul calls home

[theartistformallyknownasnovastar]

Thank you to all the black queens and kings I follow on this platform that make me realize black writers need to use our voice and our power to shine. 2 o'clock in the morning I woke up with a pounding head and a heart heavy. I needed to write this for me and all my queens and kings in our community. Thank you @writingsbyserendipity @mindofaking @blackmissfrizzle @l1tyung1 @yagyaljoanna @highasfantasy @thebloodstainedquill

A few days ago I spoke with a poet about courage, so, here is my courage in poem form:

WHILE BLACK

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights. That among these are: Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.

I hold our truths; their tatted on my skin in new news headlines.

I feel them in my brain.

Circling like vultures actions pick at my entity.

Pumping in my blood words simmer down to society's perception of crime.

While black is the crime-

Please feel free to call me culprit.

In the grips of authority my life becomes of game of which one.

Should I die in the streets like an animal or be raided like pest?

While black.

That's my crime.

To walk, maybe jog, skip, or hop I become a threat.

Disney's imaginary villain.

Taking part in this act I become another face in the smoke of black outrage.

Who am I to play with toy guns? Walk home from the store, sleep in my own bed.

I don't have the rights, right?

I'm a criminal.

The bad guy.

The one mommy zips her purse for, the one daddy shoots down for looking in the wrong direction.

While black is the crime.

Face to face with Karen and her telephone I'm not allowed in comfortable spaces- even the one's that just happen to be my own dorm.

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness fade into the background; the sound of freedom bells are over rang by the jingle of handcuffs.

My palate of skin is offensive, threatening, too much power, history and story.

Too much truth.

Too many roots.

While black becomes me.

The words assume position in my mind.

I'm not a citizen, but a negroe caged in the zoo of institutionalized racism, capitalism, and hate.

The funny thing is...

they don't even know my name.

I'm just a face, another number, another black looking to live in the world that doesn't shake when I open my eyes.

While black is crime, while living, breathing, feeling is crime.

We aren't equal.

I'm just another villain in a diluted story full of fictional victims with real guns.

I am George Floyd

I am Breonna Taylor

I am Ahmaud Arbrey

I am my community

Another face, another number, another movement.

While black is not a crime.

So don't you dare call us culprits.

[mindofaking]

👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾 I FELT THIS!!!!

[16thzero-deactivated20250726]

No one will read this, but here’ goes:

My view on the rage and misery currently finding organized, concrete expression in the United States is this: People are sick of being slaves. Police brutality is a symptom of a larger brutality. That larger brutality can be found in the historical roots of the United States, far before the US was a country.

Put simply, the US, its original colonies, and the so-called “frontier,” were all steeped in brutality the moment Europeans decided the land was up for grabs. Indigenous peoples of the Americas were an obstacle, so they were raped, exploited, and destroyed. Labor was needed to extract value from this freshly stolen land, and so slaves and indentured servants were brought from anywhere they could be found, tricked, and/or captured.

“But that was hundreds of years ago,” people might say. Firstly, no. American Slavery is often recorded as ending in 1865 with the conclusion of the Civil War. But Jim Crow has taught us this: You don’t need to be forced into picking crops by threat of violence and death to be counted as a slave. Slavery takes many forms.

The United States has always relied on brutality, and thus slavery, to uphold its economy, and this is true across the world; anywhere and anyone that the US can exploit, it will. Its own citizens are not excluded.

Therefore, slavery is fundamental to the economic history and the current economic functioning of the United States. Protesting and rebelling against police brutality isn’t simply a rejection of violence and oppression at the hands of law enforcement. To rebel against brutality is to rebel against slavery, and I think it’s fucking time that slavery truly, finally, totally ends.

#EndSlavery #AbolishSlavery #NoMoreBrutality #RejectBrutality

[theartistformallyknownasnovastar]

This might interest you. I think we ride the same wave, so catch this knowledge @mindofaking Everyone should catch this knowledge.

“It is certain, in any case, that ignorance, allied with power, is the most ferocious enemy justice can have.”

-James Baldwin

[mindofaking]

BLACK WOMEN

I SUPPORT you

I LOVE you

I APPRECIATE you

[mindofaking]

Finish this poem

Blue lights trigger me

They give me no sense of security

Sirens are the instrumental for my anxiety

Stiffening my body with every beat......

[theartistformallyknownasnovastar]

Here is my crack at it. It isn't finished because I need to do it right... but why not post what I finished right...?

Blue lights trigger me

They give me no sense of security

Sirens are the instrumental for my anxiety

Stiffening my body with every beat

Gold badges bring a dawn of corruption

They plant bastards on every corner of my street

Cameras are a defamation of my hope

With new confirmations and stolen livelihoods comes my very own conviction note

Grey cuffs ignite something along the lines of a childhood fear

Though vampires and Boogeymen have no place here, in my storyline, they have been replaced by the real

Creatures of evil with faces along the lines of pale

Blue lights seem to arise a tick in me

A bomb waiting to explode, just counting the days that I'm finally free

Anxiety in the shake of a hand, in the words of resisting "Yes sir!" And, "No ma'am."...

#blackpoets #black poetry #finish the poem

[mindofaking]

This is dope!!! I can’t wait to read the rest

[mindofaking]

Finish this poem

Blue lights trigger me

They give me no sense of security

Sirens are the instrumental for my anxiety

Stiffening my body with every beat......

[mindofaking]

Reblog this post and I will drop a poem in your inbox

[mindofaking]

Abandoned home

Brick by brick

Each brick covered with my ancestors fingerprints

Windows stained with pain because it reflects my true color

Pictures still hanging up on the wall

holding a thousand words but they don’t know how to hold a conversation

Closet still full of skeletons and the ones that couldn’t fit were placed in the attic

The basement is full of dusty dreams that couldn’t be turned into reality

The guard rails on the stairs are loose

Just like me anytime someone try’s to lean on me for support because I can barely support myself

I am just like this abandoned house

Leaving me to ask the question

How did I get like this?

I was not built alone

But I was left with no tools to keep up the maintenance on this abandoned body that my soul calls home