Writers Block

Writers block, a sudden drop in a writer’s high pressure stream of creative thought,

In the midst of opportunity to drop, knowledge on ones peers it appears that opportunity is going to be lost,

The surplus of words has turned to a lack there of,

I’ve crashed and fallen from the high brought by the pen, my choice drug,

But isn’t this a contradiction, writing on writers block,

Doesn’t this penning of thought indicate some kind of thought?

Has the stream really ceased or am I really the block in my writers block?

So now it’s a race against the clock, to makeup for time lost, keeping my eye on the clock and the door to my third eye shut,

Time to open my third eye, no I’m not sister Patterson, in fact I can’t stand New York,

But I can’t help but see with my third eye too many dolled up black Barbies with attitude like New York,

Complain that they can’t get a decent man, let me give you a tip,

A decent man wants more than just your cover girl, weave, Bath and Body Works and overexposed chest,

He doesn’t want the whole world to know the Victoria’s Secret that’s supposed to be for him,

He doesn’t want a loud math disrespectful “woman”,

He wants someone he can call his equal, the Eve for his Adam,

That thought maybe a bit much for you so let me move on

Now that my third eye is wide open ready to penetrate to yours infinity and beyond,

My people and I don’t just mean those of higher melanin content,

I speak of all people of every nation and continent,

What has become of us as a species?

We are quick to judge on appearance rather than the hearts content,

When in reality we’re no better than a pig wallowing in its own feces,

The notion of love for our fellow man is lost,

Taken by the raging tide of hate and tossed,

Until we have become no better than the black widow that kills her own,

We kill over a difference in ideology; we see those who disagree with our views as subhuman in our eyes,

This makes us no better than the boys turned savages in Lord of the Flies,

We use money as our conch shell thinking it gives us authority to sell,

Our “superior” views while in the real world broken hearts and less fortunate persons are living through nothing short of Hell,

Africans continue to kill Africans like Cain did Abel,

Chinese suppression of their own people’s human rights leaves all thought of hope disabled,

Middle Eastern states continue to put women’s rights on the shelf,

While a European self indulgence and hedonism displays a lack of love for ones self,

All these problems, who or what can possibly help?

I suggest we follow the 2000 year old advice wisdoms of Jesus, to love you neighbor as you love yourself,

We’re all neighbors on the block of this world,

Not rival factions seeking to pillage, plunder, kill, destroy and rape each others girls,

We need love like AIDS needs a cure,

Not more hate dumped on like manure,

Because quite frankly we already stink like a pasture,

I know I may seem like I’m optimistic in asking for change and that’s because I am,

It is because I know at the end of the day we all are capable of loving our fellow man,

So now I descend from my soapbox but leave you with this last bit from my third eye,

Though it’s a battle hard fought, In this war on Hate and campaign for love, though many have and many more will die, we must live like Yoda said: “Do or do not, there is not try...”

-OJO Unstoppable

Life's 3 constants: Death, Taxes, and CHANGE

"Greatness Endures Every Killer (G.E.E.K)"