Please spread the word that bigotry is wrong by faving itIf you'd like to view the second episode of WordofChen Live to hear my reading and singing style go here: [link] Author's Comment:
First off its very rare that I choose to write SLAM poetry...it's not my style and its very different from the more refined image I prefer to portray. However, sometimes in life you see s*** that just pisses you off big time.
I won't really name names, but there are poems out there that seem to very focused on labelling men as perverts, criminals, rapists, thugs, bullies and walking balls of lust. However, this is incorrect. If such a statement were true then what rappers say about women (i.e. calling them 'hoes' and 'b****es') would be true, but we all know that it is not.
However, when someone starts creating poetry that only spreads a message of hate and it gets passed off as art. That crosses the line for me. I very rarely get involved in these sorts of things but for once I'm taking a stand.
JUDGE THE INDIVIDUAL, DO NOT USE A LABEL! Just because you had ONE bad experience with a guy doesn't make them all bad. Just because you dislike/fear men, doesn't mean that every man is an abusive alcoholic or a drooling dog that only seeks to satisfy his biological urges. WE ARE ALL INDIVIDUALS.
You wanna know what I do when I want to get a girl? (This is how I got my girlfriend by the way). I looked up her favourite song, "Man Who Can't Be Moved" by The Script. Memorised the lyrics and sang it for her because I knew she would love it and I wanted to tell her that even during the ups and downs of our relationship, I would be waiting for her back at that corner where we first met. We are still together because of this.
So please, let's keep art the way it is. Let it be ENTERTAINMENT. It should not be a medium to spread bigotry or prejudice about one particular gender. That is no different to a racial or religious slur. EVERYONE is an INDIVIDUAL, We are UNIQUE, we are not a STATISTIC. We do not fit into LABELS!
-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates
P.S. Crew journal will be up in the morning, working on secret project for nowOther Poems by Me:
Where Angels Play
Where Angels Play:
A lonely spark appears before me tonight
amongst the struggles deep inside of me...
Should I give in, will I breathe in?
How much more can I be forced to take
before my soul breaks?
Shards crashing into me
letting me know I am alive
I am barely breathing...
The moon lights my pathway
deep in dark, where we will fade
I've walked past the archway
Where angels will play...
The warmest touch, upon my skin
Wings that glow with sacred light, from deep within
They have come to take me back, to where I've been
Gone away into the winds, my voice forever lingering
Do I alone escape this and find my peace
Why I Hate My Life
Why I Hate My Life:
Despite the fact that I'm a trained professional
I have to work odd-jobs making deliveries on a motorcycle
The only girl who I ever loved
was just using me as a replacement
The only girl that actually likes me
runs a bar and took over my house
I don't have the guts to kick her out
so I end up sleeping at an abandoned church
I've recently picked up a strange rash
it hurts and I have to wear sleeves to cover it
My only friends are a guy that never comes out from a forest
and a girl that's always looking to steal the meager possessions I have
Everything sucks really
because the one person who cared about me
My Beautiful Filth
My Beautiful Filth:
We'll start with the rose petals
scattered lavishly across the bed
A symbolic collage of my broken thoughts
like memories crushed and thrown into the winds
they lie where they fall, forever forgotten...
Tacks and nails shall line the floor!
A perfect representation of my painful steps
To walk forward was to suffer
to stand still was to endure
Like the insults thrown at me, like the physical abuse
they drive their way into my skin and remain embedded
Unable to be removed except by force
And now comes the masterpiece, the perfect finishing touch
A wall of words and photographs depicting my sorrows and greivance
Whispering to Lucifer
Whispering to Lucifer:Other Literature by Me:
Humans are such wonderous creatures
even when granted the gift of knowledge
They fall prey to their own insecurities
slaves to their own fears and paranoia
Such is the father's gift of free will...
Yes my lord, I understand
but do you not feel disappointment?
The great bringer of light has condemned himself to an eternity of darkness
simply so his father's children may roam free
Without adversity, there can be no acension...
Ah, such a philosophical statement from you
I am well aware that humans must experience both extremes
Without tasting joy it would be impossible to understand sorrow
Yet I fear that my
Chapter 1: Blood is Beauty
Release One: Pages 1 - 3
THE COLD AIR in Baron Rorke's study did little to calm his nerves. He was expecting visitors this night and they were not the best of company. A shiver of dread ran down his spine and he spent most of the twilight hours staring out of a large window which stood behind his writing desk. It was amazing, he felt, how quickly a man could become attached to a life of luxury; only to be made painfully aware of how easy it was to lose it. War was always a frightening thing, even more so when one had the knowledge and sense to realise that it was no longer an exercise of glory, but a si