Find words and works of poets and writers, from poetry to pros, If you want to read a book, you're at the right place. #readabooktoday

(The PurpleHeart Tribute)
If I could walk a mile in the thousands that he has run, I’d feel like a legend too
Setting the stage with an elite standard that leaves many unable to follow suit
Lightning has struck so many times with the strike of his fiery thunder bolts
As the track hears the sound of the phenomenal run of his record making boots
History is still talking of him in many ways and no one dares smear his name
Earning the shouts of our many voices by the way he has changed the game
A man is born, working tirelessly at his craft from which a legend is made 
And his speed defies logics by his height and just the way all his opponents fade
Far away, falling behind in an endless struggle to keep up with him to a race’s end
As history is rewritten with each record run and it’s proven that he’s a legend
And for him we raise the flag of black green and gold, as his glory never fades
In setting standards and erasing marks that truly define a legend’s accolades
On his mark he sets and goes, dipping his head and comes up painted in gold
And now he’s forever a legend, creating heroic stories and folklores to be told
There is no doubt that he came to gallantly mend a broken sport in all his toil
And for us, he’s forever a legend, risen from the humble dust of rural soil
We love and adore the way he bears our national pride of the land of his birth
As a Jamaican star who shines patriotic glory becoming a legend on this earth
Forever A Legend Posted by Oakley Lyle on August 7, 2016 
@ PurpleHeart
Note; I lay no claim to the ownership of this work. (The poet)

The Must Read BEST QUOTES Of Muhammad ALI The Great

The boxing legend died after he was hospitalized June 2 with respiratory issues that were complicated by his long battle with Parkinson’s disease.

Formerly named Cassius Marcellus Clay Jr. until he converted to Islam in 1964, he was loved the world over for the dozens of inspiring and hilarious quotes he said throughout his extraordinary life.

RCV takes a look back at thirty of the best Muhammad Ali quotes ever… ‘Float like a butterfly, Sting like a bee, your hands can’t hit, what your eyes can’t see.’ – Prior to his fight against George Foreman in 1974.

I beat people up.’ 7) ‘Live every day like it’s your last because someday you’re going to be right.’ 8) ‘A man who views the world the same at 50 as he did at 20 has wasted thirty years of his life.’ 9) ‘I done wrestled with an alligator, I done tussled with a whale, handcuffed lightning, thrown thunder in jail; only last week I murdered a rock, injured a stone, hospitalized a brick.

18) ‘Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it.

26) ‘The fight is won or lost far away from witnesses—behind the lines, in the gym, and out there on the road, long before I dance under those lights.’ 27) ‘He who is not courageous enough to take risks will accomplish nothing in life.’ 28) ‘It’s lack of faith that makes people afraid of meeting challenges, and I believed in myself.’ The post The BEST Ever QUOTES Spoken By Muhammad ALI As The BOXING Legend DIES Aged 74 (Photos And Videos) appeared first on Real Cool Videos . 

Picture of Muhammad Ali in Boxers shorts & gloves.
Come on, hit me

Muhammad Ali's spoken word album from 1963; must read 

Read about it and more to the point, listen to the song.


In August 1963, Cassius Clay released a spoken word/musical LP titled "I Am The Greatest." This was before he became the heavyweight champion of the world and renamed himself Muhammad Ali after converting to Islam. Here is the title track from that album, which was also released as two different 7" singles. The first single's b-side was a song called "Will The Real Sonny Liston Please Fall Down," (released after Ali beat Liston), and the second was a cover of Ben E. King's "Stand By Me," both below: Read more


Note; I lay no claim to the ownership of this work. (The poet) 

Poem of the day courtesy of Poetry Foundation (Feeds)

Note; I lay no claim to the ownership of these works. (The poet)

Audio Poem of the Day

Poem of the Day: FLEX (Wed, 20 Feb 2019)
Hear me Neglect turned everything to gold Midas touch     I turn the comfortable To the dead     an anti-elegy tho     I’m Learning not to mourn what I make It’s a complex     this gravity I birth unknowing Not my complex     yours     say it I am owned by several things     all of  them Inherited from a horizon claimed before I was languaged     Invoke the historical Somethingsomethingsomething Chains Somethingsomethingsomething Unworthy I’m citizen of a clumsy imperative Belonging     is a concern of a self   I deaded Past participle implies the historical is a mob Try again     I mobbed my own lonely and was legion Play some offense then     Gold the impossible wound Citizen of  betrayal     Citizen of the going going going — Recursion     this fugitive state as native to me as my father’s Eyes     chestnut of a tree felled before we were languaged See   Inheritance is a hell of a drug     We Black and highly valued For our Flex     I said what I said     and became citizen Of  this petty excuse for forever     Flex on ’em then Invocation of the bicep I have and the bicep throttling me I live here now     Mississippi     and everywhere is everywhere That someone may have escaped from     Fugitive A sad motivation for river     It’s a strange thing That belief you are beautiful be a subversion of the water But here I am     winter gasping at the conditions Too weak to even strangle the grass to soil     No instead Trees feathered with their hollowed offspring Here the wind don’t howl just blooms a militia Of castanets     seven people were lynched here I looked it up and nobody will tell me which tree You are not as tired of the image as I am of uncertainty Every day the rain threatens     Every day my same imperious lonely Hear me     the sun ran like a punk     the sun ran like it owed Not even the gold     is trustworthy     why gold? Because it was the color of my love     and by extension The life I buried here     Gold the genesis of one lonely My ancestors were traded mere miles from here     Gold the genesis Of  another     I know they are not the same in anything but geography Still it is an act of   Flex just to stand anywhere     gravity being what it is Attempt the volta toward impossible     Midas the lonely into a radif Dreams of living life like a gilded garrote                                                                                      Flex The crown of scar tissue still the crown                                                                                      Flex Go to therapy if  you scared                                                                                      Flex Shuck the fear out of  the opposition                                                                                      Flex Every day gold for the sake of your attention                                                                                      Flex Your hereness a mountain plumed with trees Branches hemmed like unplayed notes A history can be undone with less than an alphabet Amend the scandal of the time that brought you here Fled to Flex     Ex. My family fled from Mississippi My family Flexed from Mississippi     and you become The muscle driving you forward     See     you were ugly Once     because you believed it     Dire invocation I am some kind of unkillable and don’t know how to act Everything I said I couldn’t live without                                                                                      Gone Lucky me     to be born into a language of mistakes I leave the violent on Seen and watch them wither Turns out I was their gravity     their forgetful sovereign I Flex     they flinch     the sonics of the words     cousins By virtue of a pistol     This is how I was taught to bridle Sadness like an American     Run with a band of  kids With silver caps     so you know we bad     waiting for the bone Eviction     Flex like value native to your mouth     Tooth out A tiny moon     a second grin shimmering in your palm     Flex The loss     the cost is secondary   Hear me     a life I had ended While I was trying to pursue the life I wanted     by pursuing A loss cobwebbed as a bride     All of this true the calcium winnowing Under the gold     I widowed my own comfort     I am in danger My squad an echo     my squad a promise you get dead someday If you touch me     thus I’m untouched     Neglect killed the grass The dead turn to gold before they resurrect     I am framed By a pastoral I might have escaped once     O the history O the lineage     the renowned Flex of survivors     I’m here I’m back     muscled like a creek          or the whisper That threads a storm miles later     Maybe not     Stick to the facts I’m alive despite a growing and planetary grief     I wear a chain Somedays     and a sweatshirt that translates to     I Am Coming Back For What Is Mine     Gaudy surprise on the faces of children Of owners     They think I am impossible     They think I am a ghost I Medusa like my daddy taught me     their eyes wilt and are Ill-tended grapes consumed by the skull     I’m metaphoring I told you     I don’t know how to act     but I know how to anthem My lyric loose and I got time today     I’m the type of  bad No synonym alive can hold Source: Poetry December 2018 Julian Randall Biography More poems by this author
>> Read More

Poem of the Day: Meditation at Decatur Square (Tue, 19 Feb 2019)
1 In which I try to decipher                           the story it tells, this syntax of monuments                           flanking the old courthouse:                                        here, a rough outline like the torso of a woman                           great with child—                                        a steatite boulder from which                           the Indians girdled the core                                                      to make of it a bowl,                                        and left in the stone a wound; here, the bronze figure of Thomas Jefferson,                                        quill in hand, inscribing                           a language of freedom,                                                     a creation story—                                        his hand poised at the word                           happiness. There is not yet an ending,                                        no period—the single mark, intended or misprinted, that changes                           the meaning of everything. Here too, for the Confederacy,                           an obelisk, oblivious                in its name—a word                           that also meant the symbol to denote, in ancient manuscripts,                the spurious, corrupt,or doubtful;                                              at its base, forged                           in concrete, a narrative                of valor, virtue, states' rights.  Here, it is only the history of a word,                           obelisk,                that points us toward                           what's not there; all of it palimpsest, each mute object                 repeating a single refrain:                 Remember this. Natasha Trethewey, "Meditation at Decatur Square" from Monument: Poems New and Selected. Copyright © 2018 by Natasha Trethewey. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. Natasha Trethewey Biography More poems by this author
>> Read More

Wise Sayings From The Great One; Bob Marley

Note; I lay no claim to the ownership of this work. (The poet)