Writers-block

Writers-block
When you gamble with the alphaBET but ran out of luck
Your letters are your credit, 26 chips…
You figured…Letters enough
But its like your pen and your mind just don’t seem
To sync
And the empty page doesn’t fill up with ink
Right in front of your eyes like how the pen would describe the architected story of the mind. And…just like a metaphorical empty page

you dont have a word to say
…but if you could read,the expression on your face….it’ll be blank…

empty page…

No flowing of ink
Somehow you don’t feel so you force yourself trying to think…
Yeah Writers block, is scaring the fuck
Out of me
I mean What good is a poet without his creativity
No inspiration rush, like you just… lost the ability
…. Mortal combat…fatility
game over? No, cause there is continue
Know that inspiration is just the tool
Creativity is within you
Inspiration is everywhere… just gotta let it tap into,
That part of your brain that you try to train to make it think up a miracle
Use your eyes and soak all in
Write about the situation your in
Good and bad, eyes closed and open wide
And the moment you realize that even real lies are true enough to make you feel inspired
You’ll understand That you can’t just force a master piece
Please, did you believe that you can just force your mind to help
You achieve? Nah…
You need to live to live
Love, Forget and forgive
Gain knowledge from made mistakes
Walk a way, call the bluff, or go all in and raise the stakes
But words…. are just an outlet
A journal
To make sure you won’t forget
How you felt
And when the flow stops

doesn’t mean you have writers-block
your
talent is still there, it didn’t go away
Just gotta accept the fact, that….
for the minute…Poet…you just ain’t got shit to say

Round 2

I got slapped in the face by reality
Couldn’t believe what he was telling me
Then again I was only listening
To misery
I always speak with my heart
But I was in a place that’s dark
So I talked but I couldn’t see
currently though my vision is returning to Me…yeah luckily
My hopes and my dreams
My drive to believe
To turn what I feel into some currency
But in order to get some change, I need to change
And to get a full pocket I can’t just say fuck it,I need to take whats mine an earn the rights to do so,
So…
A slap in the face is a disgrace
But I turned the other cheek to get to the next phase
Climb back on stages, and be amazing
It starts with some phrases…believing is one thing
I got to pick up the pen..and let it sing
To the paper flowing with ink
Drama see you later…go drown in your drink
it’s time
For some good
Times
I don’t have a diary
I have
my rhymes
Witness my strengths, witness my flaws
But know that through it all
Reality got a mean hook…but I didn’t come to fall

Round 2

Twitter freestyle verse

Unbelievably, deceivingly chances are not even,even he knows
..this phrase? Is just a beginning
That’s the feeling when I pick up a pen and…write…right?yeah… as long as the beat of my heart is the muse for my art…I’ll be able to breath and live while I rip syllables apart…it’s out of love, I don’t work on no clock…looking to recieve the right set of keys to get this shit locked…so who is Houdini? an artist,uncanny but can- he -evade -my lock?

A year ago

A year ago…I stepped on stage for the first time

it was December 10th…2009…A Thursday night…

That day at 17pm I’d had stumbled upon a flyer which said: “Johnny Hoes 2nd Poetry Night…(with Open Mic)” Location: Jimmy Woo, Amsterdam.

….and I said to myself…its now or never…..

now this is the part where you’d expect me to say: “and the rest is history”

but…history…is in the making

…that night…just stands for the beginning of a new era…

and the birth of Sleepy The Poet….

As I write…

I don’t socialize
Instead I silently write, turn my thoughts into rhymes
I speak to myself…yeah…I’ve got a mumbling mind

that’s how I suddenly find,

troubles I once hid but I chose to no longer hide

Now I deal with what bothers my mind…

no escape,

we debate

I Regulate…and finally decide

…I translated my thoughts…

Electric pulses, gathered  sources…translated by my hand holding a pen…

as I see the ink flow…I understand…nah…I know…what my mind is saying…

and the words that I need…those are the exact ones that my pen is laying.

Sometimes my own rhymes make my hair stand up
…yeah supersaiyan…

look…

All that I’m saying
Is that blur becomes clear and darkness turns bright

…as I write

Remember, Remember..The FPS Feature of november

He is I and I am him:)

Thank you Fresh Poets society (@Fr3shPoetsScty)

Poetry is connecting overseas!

check it out here:

http://www.fr3shpoetssocietyfeatures.wordpress.com/

Back To school

I haven’t uploaded anything in a while, i’ve been so busy and this is why:)

…I went back to school to go get my bachelor of economics degree…but dont worry!;) I’m still writing though!

Back to school: video