Steven “Jesse” Bernstein: Tribute

from Crazywriterof6


WARNING: This poetry can be very depressing and cause anxiety in some. Please read or listen to with caution for your own emotional state. Jesse is also a genius in his expressions and descriptive poetry.

Mr. Bernstein was an amazing “Spoken Word” poet that went through way too much. His birthday was on December 4th. Rather then tribute his suicide (A loss for all), I prefer to celebrate his birthday. I thought I would introduce some of you to his poetry. Remember it can get rough.

I hope to publish some spoken word poems of my work on here someday.

Enjoy and please take pay attention to the warning above. I relate to this poem. Never having self-esteem ever for my looks… FACE And of course MORE NOISE

I hope you find a new poet you love listening to him…

Steven Jesse Bernstein — Face


More Noise by Steven…

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Shake Me Loose…but let me sleep

from The Mind of RD REVILO

THE MIND OF RD REVILO, The Blog (& Podcasts) 4 BLACK Men

  • Funny, Some People Think
  • War will be different for them
  • They see the deadly destruction
  • But theirs won’t make them a victim
  • They’ll start the fight on Friday
  • Night
  • Then fight
  • Until Sunday
  • Back to work on Monday
  • And if they get injured or hurt
  • The enemy will nurture
  • Them back to work
  • So they can fight some more
  • And even up the score
  • No loss of electricity
  • Water will flow
  • No pain toward victory
  • No disappearance of people they know
  • It’ll be like a picnic
  • Only ants are pests
  • We’ll be in and out quick
  • Unlike the rest
  • Once they knowwe are serious
  • Fear will make the enemy delirious
  • And sue for peace
  • Just beating our chests will scare the beast
  • Our thunderous protests
  • Will make them confess
  • We’ll sing, we’ll cheer
  • The brave will bring up the rear
  • We’ll snarl, our fists we’ll ball
  • We’ll persist, insist…

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You are Already Dead – Part II

A short story from Danica!

Living a Beautiful Life

Cal tossed the box of dried pasta into his military tactical assault backpack.  Best thing he’d found at the charity thrift store.

“Nah, on second thought I need to put that back.  Thanks.”

The cashier nodded and put the ground beef aside for the stockboy to retrieve.  Cal had been craving pasta with meat sauce but that cheap variety probably had equal parts antibiotics, growth hormones and who only knew what else.

The cashier handed him his receipt and Cal rearranged his groceries so as not to crush anything.  “Oh, excuse me,” the woman who had bumped into him stopped.  “No bother,” Cal didn’t look at her or her low-cut sheer blouse.

“Could you help me take these to my car?”  Couldn’t he go to the store in peace?  What did she want with him anyway.  Dressed like that.

“Have a good day!” she called to Cal’s back.  Why did the good-looking…

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