26 December 2010


It was a cold winter and rainy day;
Outside I saw the glistering droplets of rain splashing away;
Darkness covered the atmosphere; but the rays of the street lights made everything seem so clear;
Inside were you and I reminiscing about good old times; yeeaahhh..., hot chocolate while watching the moon light shine;
Our attention towards each other radiated the room and brought such a delight that sparked an arousing thought in mind;


Standing by the window, I gently covered you with my arms and slowly undressed you with each finger tips and palms;
Sensuously.., I began to relax you with various embracing touches...; sweet liquor rushes flowing through our veins as we kept calm...
Like a teacher teaching a pupil, you then took my hand and guided them into places that felt so warm and assuring;
Feeling provoked and engulfed in flames I set in motion to cover every inch of your body with tender pecking butterfly kisses...; ooohhhhh babe...you are more than just the Mrs...

Concentrating on the less open areas of your body; in search of that tangible pulse that would particularly respond to my tongue, I lubricated the back of your neck; the circular voluptuous curves of your breast; the soft skin of your inner thighs; the back of your knees, and not to mention the most explosive part of your body--that juicy liquefied, moist, soft, and temperature throbbing strawberry;


Now excited by the sounds as we moan and groan we took to the floor; dangling your breast over my body you asked me if I wanted more;
As you placed yourself on top of me.... I felt your control for sure;
Thus to have them slightly skim the surface of my skin you proceed to tease;
Overwhelmed by the sensation of your impulsive and electrifying stimulation, I begged you not to freeze
Deliberately, but yet so slowly you started to maneuver over me;
With long catlike licks, from my forehead down to my hips, you playfully rubbed your lips along the corners and texture of my phallusss;


Such a cozy night set aside for a slow seduction that felt so right....; light dim but not too grim;
Just enough to see the contour of your curvaceous limbs;
Seeing your body so glossy and wet with precipitation; feeling your volcanic body against mine made me feel like the weather was playing tricks on me, and you were my summer rain;
The thought captured the reptilian side of my brain; rrroarrrrr.. I am feeling soo insaneee....
As our feelings got more and more mutual; the tempo and pressure of our body increased; through each stroke I caress your clit-or-us.... My sweet Isis can you feel the highness... call me Highness or better yet Osiris...My Empress...
As you caress my manly steel- stimulating the head with rhythmic movements; I placed my fingers into the core of your vaginal entrance..., right between your labia---informally known as your sexual clarence;
Oooooohhhh baby..... I can feel the riveting motion of your body as it twitches from side to side....;
Submerged in the heat of passion, a night filled with romance and seduction emerged;
The touch of our body connected together as we add the venture--off into the manifestation of our fantasy;
While undressed in only our birthday suit with nothing to hide-- I can feel the chemistry;


As the room began to spin and the heat/ temperature excel to a hundred times us... I thought I was losing my touch;
But the foreplay that brought the initial order brought me back together; now it’s time to scream bloody murder..
Your body being so tight, it manifested itself in such a world of imaginable and pleasurable disorder… we clamped onto each other so as to brighten the order;
I cannot wait to see and feel the intense passion of our position and performance;
The thought alone leads me into suspense, but i know that the action will be much more exhilarating and intense
My sweet seductive teacher----Tell me what’s next....As I touch your body and you touch mine...

Written By: Ricky Omar Mitchell

Copyright 2010.

15 December 2010


As he closes his eyes and puckered his lips… he felt you;

Searching high and low from the heavens to below … he flew only to be with you;

Thinking of ways how to get through to you; he flipped his wings from side to side; if only you knew

From East, West, North, and South he traveled worldwide;

Corner to corner he learned the avenues of your tide;
Surfing the platform of your lips he glides, with every lubricated outcome he gently takes his time;

With passion flowing so freely he dreamt of your lips touching his so vividly;

The texture of your lips feeling so exquisite: Soft, tender, plumpish, and curvaceous;

Even the lining between them reminds him of the equator that splits the heavens and earth so gracious;

One or two tongue stroke unlocks the mystery in you that he yearns to hold on to;

As you open your mouth the energy from your orifice ignites his soul;

Making him weak in his knees he begins to fold;

Lost for words he could not even speak… butter kissed; sweet bliss;

He saw his entire life flash before his clothed eyes…you he never missed;

His life nerve ending spark colors of rainbows… filled with beauty all he could think of was you…Pleasurable mist;

Feeling the compassion of affection that presses so jointly in line;

Butterfly kisses; yours and his will forever intertwine;

As you practice the perfect pout and highlight your lips so as to show them out

With lip balm and glossy prestigious products they automatically put out a shout;

It is said that you come in various forms: to name a few he can only think of you in his eyes and arms:

Seductive lips, wild lips, cherry lips, burning lips, and the curving ones that seem forever so hip;

It starts with you….


Written By: Ricky Omar Mitchell



Copyright 2010

21 October 2010


 Skin to skin connection body to body concentration; so sweet the penetration;
Exquisitely responsive to a variety of textures and temperatures;
Your body reacts to his dazzling erection;
You close your eyes and fantasize as he pours drizzle warm honey and cold wine on your body;
As he caresses you with satin rough brushes, smooth rubbers, and soft tingling feathers;
With each touch your body increases as your nerve-endings weakens; you allow him to enjoy all your senses which causes you to explode with excitement and exhilarating orgasmic blisses;
Exulted by his zealous performance you utter with passion.. how much you adore the smell of the aroma around his genital;
He in return expresses to you that the strawberry taste of the lips of your vagina are as satiating as the zestfulness of a margarita with a cup of tequila;
Sweet sixty-nine- using your saliva you begin to lubricate his phallus; sucking licking, and rhythmically pumping it with each stroke of your orifice;
Paying special attention to your clitoris he initiates long tongue strokes from your vagina to the marginal sector that divides your assets;
Gently he continues- nuzzling your lips and sometimes piercing your insides with his tongue;
Feeling dominant you climbed on top of him, pinning him down, you began to take control;
Every breath taking stroke, the feeling has you sprung;
Facing away with your back towards him, you began to regulate the depths of his thrust;
As the performance increases your position changes; with your hips lifted and your assets connected to the lower part of his thighs; he enters you;
Supporting your hips with his hands he penetrates you;
Every motion; every movement stimulates the core of your walls and touches the surface of your G-Spot....oooohhhhhhh...he began to hit the spot;
Swollen and tender your vagina drips with liquefied slippery and glossy cream;
Your body begins to shake as your legs tremble.. weakly with every thrust that he makes;
All tensions has now been released from your anatomy;
Feeling appreciated, loved, and satisfied
You began to kiss his nipples and caress his skin gently;
While cuddling he tells you this is only the beginning;
Now its time for the romancing.

Written By: Ricky Omar Mitchell


Copyright 2010

17 October 2010


Bless those who are still breathing;
As you see your vision through black crimes while brothers in packs crying;
It seems like everybody is dying;
Too drugged up to ask why, the explanation of genocide is when we exterminate our own kind;
Watching our down falls; witnessing the end;
It’s like we don’t even believe in God because we living in sins;
Nobody mourns no more;
Not even the dead receive the comfort of any grievers, for sure;
Is it the miniature caskets with babies; victims of stray bullets; drug dealers’ gone crazy?
That makes our souls become savage like wild raccoons with rabies;
What is it that we all feel, as we look into our reflection in the mirror?
We cannot escape faith because it keeps getting nearer;
You cannot close your eyes because all you see is terror;
The hatred of a man in the mirror because of his image makes the pain turn realer;
Is this the manifestation of our reality that we bread as our own creator?
You started out as a beginner, entering the criminal minded mainstream you are now a sinner;
As you fall on your knees and beg for mercy not known whether or not you are worthy;
The weed and patron cannot comfort your pain;
Stressed with the thought of living just to die, where is the fame?
Tears fall like droplets of rain; still we search for frames;
Murder; Murder; look it’s Mr. Lucifer,
No it’s a picture of the devil while he shoots at you;
It’s all political as he tells you no need to get spiritual;
So you continue to be the product of his conniving rituals;


Written by: Ricky Omar Mitchell
Copyright 2010


You are the source of love that governs life;
With you I am continually energized with the force of the unique verse which keeps my strife;
Every day I thank the lord for your attachment to me and your persistent beauty;
A romantic and breath taking connection, with your excellence I am in synch with my serenity;
Sometimes I can feel your pain… even when you are a thousand miles away;
I remember those days when loneliness stared you in your face as we lay;
Tears running down your cheeks from emotions that seemed so unclear and murky;
Relaxing your mind I remind you of the joyful days that await our future family;
Knowing that I have so much to show you; Baby allow me to fulfill your fantasy;
My dream lady I often find laughter in your comical, cheerful, charismatic social spheres;
Even when we fight and disagree only to agree I still find splendor in your every gestures and tantrums which shows that you care and the love is still there;
Thus as I wipe those liquefied pearls from your silky facial skin and bless you with kisses from my sugary lips;
So warm and tender you are so ecstatic in your emotional bliss;
You are the one who keeps me calm through the storms that I often fail to miss;
I will always need you in my arms to hold; as you are by my side while lighten thunders and roles;
We will forever flow as dust and dawn unfolds; and the wind beneath our angelic wings soars;
With so much compassion I know that you prefer my presence than Hollywood;
For you are the more than just the center of a single thought that could;
You are poetry; my loving soul-mate that will always glitter like gold;
Nothing can take me away from you;
For you are the one that takes away my sorrows when I am blue;
Whenever I am with you I feel so brand new
I love you boo;
Written by: Ricky Omar Mitchell
Copyright 2010


For you I will hold on to the moon just to see your face in its bloom;
You and I will be forever; for better or worse we will soar the heavens together;
A fool I would be to find true love and let it go; it is you and I for which you already know;
Having shown that you love me unconditionally; through whatever you will stay by my side compassionately and devotedly;
You are the one I trust with all my secrets and all my inner beings;
No other will be able to take your place as being my loving queen;
Sacrifice my love; my life; for you to love, I will hold on tight;
No matter what comes my way, I will do whatever it takes to make things right;
Before you I was empty and hollow like a withering cave;
Falling into a state of distress which made me sad, I lost my brave;
But when you came along you lift me off the ground and took away my frown;
You rescued me from all the pain I felt before I met you;
Dried my eyes and made me smile again you helped me get through;
Now I feel like I am flying above the clouds;
So high as we rise with nothing to hold us down we glide above the crowds;
Baby you make me weak as you control my chemistry;
So weak in my knees that I feel as though I am hovering so vividly;
Every hour and day I love how you take my breath away;
So hypnotized by your touch when you hold me, your arms are like angelic wings clothing me as I pray;
So extraordinary and more than special when we are together I feel so complete;
My heart races for you as I am caught up in the love that is so neat;
So safe and secure I am, knowing that I am with you I feel so great;
Let us lay together forever in this loveseat, for you are my mate.


Written by: Ricky Omar Mitchell
Copyright 2010

15 October 2010


Sprung from an introduction;
As he converse to you through seduction;
He sees you blushing, knowing you wanted something;
Come and get a taste of the Jamaican most wanted love potion;
Rum and Champagne plus erotic touching and fucking;
No intention of busing until you learn your lesson... straight loving;
 you begin to get so wet as you think of him; sex lubrication taunts your interest;
Every time you need it, you send him a text;
Filled with lots of jewels you are his nest;
As you both proceed to begin to undress;
Between your legs he feels how you are so blessed;
Circular motion with your tongue, sweet felatio; mixed with French kisses..Oooo, just say yes;
As he thinks about you, feeling your breast;
Curvaceous caress; your body starts to sweat;
Playing in your hair; massaging your flesh;
The room illuminates with candle lights; bed covered with a mesh;
Sensational aroma; intertwined bodies submerged in pulsated precipitated water;
He calls you mama; you call him papa;
Sexual pleasure... tonight he wishes for you to be his baby mother;
Yearning for you to be his property and him your owner;
Sparked by your tunnel of love; he becomes your lover.

Written by: Ricky Omar Mitchell
Copyright 2010

09 October 2010


A woman so qualified to bring me joy;
I see you as the jewel of my Nile;
An African Queen... you are so incline to bring my child;
Knowing this I am sure that your fruit will never spoil;
When I wake up early in the morning and look in the mirror;
I see your reflection so bright and pure;
You make me feel like an invincible pharaoh... this I am sure;
It is funny how something so simple can make a person change;
When I am around you it is such a wonderful feeling, a feeling that is hard to rearrange;
You are the wind beneath my wings; you make the angels sing;
Sweet hymns of romantic and holistic rhythms of simplicity;
Touching my heart with motions of harmony;
Mesmerized by your loyalty and agility,
Sometimes I would stop to stare at you and pinch myself to see if life is true;
There was a time when I could not find a perfect love and a peace of mind;
I never thought that love would make me feel this way;
But with your passion each and every time I pray,
To carry me on my way or help me through my day;
You are the comfort to my soul, and the fraction of my whole;
With you I am complete; with you I have no regrets;
never will I forget how easy love begets
Easy to love/ hard to forget

Written by: Ricky Omar Mitchell
Copyright 2010


Rumors of wars express the envious minds of those who despise;
Situated in their conrners contemplating on ways to bring you under in demise;
While whispering amongst themselves words of conspiracy, but yet they are so contrary;
They manufacture their spears by sharpening their tongues with malice intentions of treachery;
Seeing all their dirty ways are like disasters, crabs in a basket, they endeavor to capture your cosmic powers;
Heartless killers of motivations they scrutinize your wealth with bloodguilt eyes;
Waiting for you to fall so that they may devour your existence like carnivorous crows they spy;
So patriotic in their ways they are branded with the auras of menace;
Guilty of jealousy the devils eternal fire subdues their anatomy with no repentance;
No sadness... No apologetic madness;
What will become of your foes who are filled with vengeance of selfishness;
Tomorrow will not be the same day; make due while the sun shines its ray;
Yesterday has past and gone, as today is what we know as being our blessed way;
He who dwells on earthly possession shall surely lose his position;
Good will overcome while evil bows down to righteous sons;
David slew Goliath with a sling and a stone; while Samson conquered the phillistines with a donkey's jawbone;
As you aspire to exceed the stratosphere of the heavens;
In hope for a better tomorrow, with G-d's grace you will circumvent many heathens;
As a being of righteous bliss you were always told never to fear the bad minded;
Hold fast and think about the beauty of G-d's glory for which you are continually reminded;
PSALM 23, for instance, will continue to shield your earthly birth.

Written by: Ricky Omar Mitchell
Copyright 2010


Pearls of joy, you must learn that this world is yours to take;
Although it is filled with shady people, understand that your passion will not break;
Remember that the color of your skin will never make you less of a lady;
The lessons that you will be blessed with will assist you in becoming more than just a baby;
No need to grade yourself because I will teach you better;
Life is not all about glitter, diamonds, and leather;
However, in time you will be furnished with all the best of its glamour;
Nonetheless, materialism will never govern your sanctified cosmic structure, because you will be forever greater;
Hold up your head, swallow your pride, and never allow the earthly obstacles to haunt you as the devil strives to taunt your glide;
Over stand that you will not fail with G-d's grace you will prevail;
Take the teachings of daddy's days for yourself, so that you will never grow too fast into becoming a pray;
Lies and deceits of men will crave your intellectual anatomical beauty, thus rise high and never let yourself stray;
Be careful in the heat with cold feet and keep your head steady;
My imagery is somewhat like G-d's chemistry; blasphemy through me you will know proudly;
With the strenght of your covenant with the lord you will lay and stay;
His angles will guide and protect you as you humble yourself with prayer;
Clothed by his cloak you will be through all your stormy weathers, which will enable you to be forever so clever;
Near him you will be protected as you continue to grow;
Through my experiences most of your wonders will flow;
Earthly love is built on deceptions, but through daddy's acknowledgement you will see it all through your naked eyes; therefore you will recognize the falsehood of men and the pretenses of his plan;
Continue to love G-d and allow him to create foot prints ahead of your own;
For as you walk you will cover his with yours as you become strong and grown;
In my demise darling don't cry, always bear in mind that I live through you;
It is you and I against the world boo;
Though you may not understand me now; in due time I will break it down;
Just remember that you will always be daddy's little girl with a crown;


For: (I)mani (A)bigail (M)itchell
Written by: Ricky Omar Mitchell
Copyright 2010

20 August 2010


When we were soldiers;

Only time would tell whether we live or die;

A family in uniform we were like brothers and sisters in arms;

Putting aside our differences, we shared the same values;

Loyalty, duty, respect, selfless service, honor, integrity, and personal courage;

Leaders of today and tomorrow we ventured through the darkest voyage;

If you came into our world you would see that we were more than thugs;

Men in arms we trained and fought with our hearts filled with love,

While standing firm as lethal worriers;

As we leave our families behind, still in thoughts, they were our armor of defense,

And our shields in the battlefield;

Protecting our tender most precious organs; we clung unto them until our wounds healed;

While bullets flew across our naked eyes; we took refuge in their spiritual arms,

As we returned fire in order to maintain our lives;

Looking over our shoulders, the only thing worth dying for, we saw that we were never alone;

When all of our muscular strength and endurance were gone;

We carried each other until we were well and strong;

Through various communicational avenues our souls endeavored to release our secluded pains;

In contrast we felt the energies of your psycho-kinetic crystal tears;

Knowing that you would fight with us until the very end;

You stood fast on your square and never bend;

Keeping the flames alive because of you;

We continue to fight; for all that we do;

Written by: Ricky Omar Mitchell


Copyright 2010


Born in rage as a child…. and granted first to be a “G”;

A don at an unknown age they were taught who they should be;

Faced with the demons of hearing victims creaming;

Guess they were evil from birth, products of cursed semens;

Hate it or love it the thug in them thrived on misery;

Left alone they grew up amongst the dying bread;

Street fames bringing paranoia to the minds of the negative lives;

Ghetto children poisoned by the warfare, an eye for an eye;

Will there ever be a heaven for the rebels without a cause,

They lye resting in the cemetery, souls deleted they cry;

Hell bound they are struck with mirrors of their own demons;

As their neighbors try to quote scriptures; the innocents are buried in ditches;

Tired of being held down; temperatures rising, gunshots firing,

They pray to live another day with a frown;

Baptized in the hell fire of the devils desire

They wonder why their hearts were broken as a child, with only inverted crosses to admire,

No trust in the laws of men; they say fuck the world because they were cursed with a plan;

Having vision of leaving their foundation in a hearse they bow down to only one man;

Praying to God to open the paradise of heaven;

And to forgive them for their sins;

They cry; Thug til they die

Written by: Ricky Omar Mitchell


Copyright 2010

29 June 2010


As you wonder about life coming from the ghettos;
You see junkies and rock-head dwellers;
Survival of the fittest every day is a trail;
Youngsters growing up so innocent and fragile;
After submitting to the oath and the constitution with a crowd;
You would think you were a part of the unified nation feeling so proud;
But sometimes you are confronted with racism and the heirarchial chain of classism;
Blacklisted and placated with sarcasms and cynicalism, your feels became foreign;
The darker you are the bigger the problems;
Placed into the revelation of the biblical scriptures as soldiers reaching for the stars;
You noticed Asia, Africa, Europe, France, Japan, Pakistan, America, and Afghanistan;
All fill with vengeance, hatred, and resentment for their fellow men;
Protestants, Jews, Blacks, Arabs call the truce! World Peace... Stop the killing;
Machine guns, bombs, and tanks we are becoming endangered species;
Harmful to ourselves we are the products of our own absences shattered in pieces;
Since the beginning of time we have been in arms fighting;
losing lives while the Pentagon keeps rising;
We must remember that we are God's children;
The earth was never made to be ruled by one race;
To all colors and creeds that's who it belongs;
We crave lands, mansions, glitters, and golds;
Diamonds in Africa and oil under our control;
The world's natural resources and all its residuals;
But comes then the foes... We have to guard them with missiles;
Now we have become the most wanted;
Who will come and save us form our self-destructive vesssels?

Written by: Ricky Omar Mitchell
Copyright 2010

25 June 2010


Can you recall when the earth was your couch and the heavens your canopy;
beneath your feet rivers ran steep into streams of crystal like hormany;
From a picturesque height a beautiful landscape circumvents your anatomy;
The world of the sole creator expressed his covenant to those who he considered greater;
Higher than we, you were recon to be their elevator;
A single atom to them, you were endowed with emotions;
An overstanding of the inner and outer portion of the highest and lowest devotion;
The power of will and choosing became the attribute of your composition;
The ability to have mastery over your fortune and nature;
A liken to your own architect, we were the greater power of our initial intellect;
Having the privilege to be a vicegerent, we were blessed with the acts of pure fulfillment;
The Lord and owner of our own face, we became the reflection of grace;
Not understanding the reason for our existence, we were classified by our holistic pairs as being misfits;
filled with preconceived mischief;
Miseducated about the meaning of our being, they accepted our birth with every inkling faith;
with the trust of their hearts, all that they knew were good;
Thus they acceded and bowed down their angelic wings to fate.

written by Ricky Omar Mitchell
Copyright 2010

09 April 2010


A single word blossom into a unified thought;
The main body that governs our physiology and put into motion our cosmotology;
Everyday that flickers by we are blessed with these sounds;
Vibrations of electrified units that transcends through our anatomy;
And seeps through each and every molecular entity;
So affected we are by these instrumental morphemic connections;
But yet so discombobulated at times because of the tempo of there intentions;
Visualize with me as we take a trip with words of affection;
The death of a person brings forth compliments and colourful roses that were never mentioned or given during existence;
Leaving the spirit to only feel the compassion of our heartful sentiments;
But not being able to exhibit the warmthful affection in return;
Thus our energies are left with mixed emotions of clarity;
"Sticks and stones can brake my bones, but words will never hurt me"
A phrase that conjures a breath of dejection from multiple verbal attacks and blasphemy;
Barricades that are meant to protect the torn down feelings of the sufferer;
Or a facade to conceal the twisted emotions that runs deep through our vains;
We utter these words not understanding how much of an impact they will have to the latter;
Pain and unwanting agony spoils our pride and loving dignity;
Now we are left without a bridge to cross back on;
And a soul that yearns for companionship but feels so empty;
The consolidation of the heart so ripped apart;
Such language has become judgemental as we begin to see ourselves as failures and disfigured temples;
Take this scenario for example;
A pilot leaves his beloved for a journey that he had to embark;
As days and weeks turns into months he prays for his love not to be lost;
Through correspondence he engaged in small playful romantic conversation with his confidant;
One day he received a message that he thought was from his entrusted;
Continuing with his pranks he later found out that it was actually his beloved;
Lost for words he fumbled words of forgiveness; however with out remorse his beloved was livid;
Displeased and disappointed she obliterated the relationship;
As the months proceeded he earnestly tried to reconcile their differences;
Through love his beloved returned; however with an antagonized heart that still burns;
While trying to rekindle the flames; the pilot had to leave again;
On another journey he begins to feel lonely;
Trying to connect with his mate through correspondence failed without reason, unknownly;
Hurt by the ambiguity, and to even the odds he decided to send her a message vigorously;
 the message stated that he wished her dead;
As years passed, sorrowfully he realized his wrongful deed,
He attempted to connect one last time;
The connection went well;
However his beloved words of affection was staled because he wished her dead;
We may lash out at others for the pain that we experienced in the past;
This will cause friction when positive vibes are vital in mass;
It is hard to be shield from subconscious pains that can be jolted like voltage;
We must always remember that words leave scars and open wounds;
They can also bring forth happy tears and joyful tunes;
Tools for building up or weapons for tearing down;
The affection of words;
Tell me..... how does this sound?

written by: Ricky Mitchell
photo by: James 119
copyright 2010

29 March 2010


Blessed to the queens of the African/ Edenic Diaspora;
With the eclecticism of your mind from the servitude of time;
You have revolutionize the worlds many infrastructures;
Time has elasticized your queen-dome into becoming a source of profit;
Corporates has commercialized your physical beauty and projected your sexuality to the masses;
Conforming you to the Tell-Iie-Vision that falsify your essential merit;
Still in all with Gods will you have already proven to them that they are a bunch of crosses;
Clinging to your heritage and culture is what makes you and your king compatible as a unit;
Even though the diversification of your circumference leads you to vulnerability;
You are a compassionate being who expounds upon the true meaning of the word humanity;
You are to mankind the source of their delight and the hight of their might;
In rage you will stand firm and put up a fight;
In love you will show the magnitude of your affection and the core of your devotion;
Sacrificing yourself with every convulsion;
You are the LIONZ OF ZION.

written by: Ricky Mitchell
photo by: Ethiopia Het-Heru
copyright 2010

21 March 2010


As I look through the windows of your soul; I see you in return looking through mine;
The oval of your eyes commenced to open as our connection began to unfold;
Feeling the  neurochemicals of your emotional colours;
The beauty of love reveals its self so bold;
I touched your mind; you massaged my intellectual lines;
So vividly fine... I cannot leave you behind;
As you caress my intellect and wreck my kingdom with crescent waves of cerebral orgasms and brain spasms from your queendom;
A new course of love has emerged;
At the center lies a fascinating hormone called... you and I,
I want you spiritually and mentally; forget the physicality which needs to mantain its rightful place as being secondary;
No need to rush for the bed; undress my mind and come inside my core instead;
Surf with me through the deepest soulistic water of my intellect;
Hold me close to your neurological fibers and allow our passion to spread;
 The mind is the most powerful, hypnotic, intoxicating, and narcotic force in the universe;
So when we converse let us exercise our mind and expand the challenges of each unique verse;
Can you feel the essential most natural aphrodisiac of all times?
So creative we are with our artistic feelings that no other being can accept its foundational element; 
through you I see the lost of love for women kind;
so dark, so unsure, and so confused;
like animals they move indiscriminately from one mate to another in search of love;
failing to realize that they have lost the true path;
they have abandon the neocortex of their language, which is the mainstream of their be-loved brain stem;
The foreplay of the mind and that intellectual and sexual gradification that follows,
leads you and I into a social stratusphere that is so clear and divine;
I see you; you see me; I see your family; you see my dynasty; so shall it be our destiny;
I wish not to unlock our connection,
But I know that having too much of you will only weaken and spoil the beauty of our affection;
 Thus I will let you free and pray that we do not allow our lower anatomy to capture our mental and spiritual faculties;

written by Ricky Mitchell
coyright 2010

12 March 2010


Glory was the days when you were hustling away;
Crack, cocaine, Marihuana, you name it; you had it made;
The street corners were your precious domain;
Needy people flourished around your presence craving for the essence that would ease their pain;
Dressed in suit and ties, like the aristocrats of modern times;
Education was still planted in mind;
Camouflaged like a chameleon, no one knew your real intentions;
To live the life of glamour, you sacrificed all that you could remember;
Up and down the iron horses you would travel;
Bus runs were your routine pedal; seven days a week you would struggle;
Wanting those presidents that have already been covered with pebbles;
Six feet under they humbled;
Rest assure the day came where you stumbled;
Confined between four walls and a couple of bars; you withered in storm;
Feeling lost and gone, you prayed and mourned;
As you continued through the days, years swiftly and rigorously clothed your fears;
Bearing time on the cross of injustice now became the crusade that you faced;
What a disgrace, family and friends gradually became displaced;
No more grace stood in place;
Now confronted with thoughts of change;
The transitional phase uprooted in flames;
Gallons of sweat flooded your pores as you submerged in rage;
The battle began between the four devils:
Lust, envy, hate, and jealousy of all that stood in you;
Three hundred and sixty degrees you screamed like a banshee;
Past actions of running the streets became your nightmares;
Can you go back, should you proceed, or should you let it be and flee?
Such misery clamped onto you to keep you company;
Still in all the day came where the trumpet would sound;
You thus psyched out all that surrounded you;
Only to listen out for that sweet melody;
Free at last, the meteorological climate gradually dissipated;
Feeling refined you journeyed on with your life;
Thinking about all the goals and aspirations that you had created;
The tools that would build your foundation continued to be mended;
New associates, new friends, new and old families, and a job that allowed you to be contented;
This is the glory that is now the milestone of your past;
What won't breake you will only make you stronger;
As you get older these thoughts of yours you will always remember;
Three hundred and sixty degrees brings forth a new chapter

written by Ricky Mitchell
copyright 2006

05 March 2010


Living in the heart of the ghetto people struggle to find their identity;
Minds twisted with all sorts of sorrows, sympathy, empathy, and poverty;
their longevity still strong enough to uphold with humanity through immunity;
Staying truthful to the life that they live;
they voice their opinions through instrumental grids;
While others look to see the coming of a new born messiah;
new people are born in to the linage of the struggle;
Mothers upholding their responsibilities to maintain and support their future;
While fathers situate themselves on the metaphorical Vatican Mountain to fight the battle of Armageddon through their nine to five;
Babylonian affairs gradually crumble like the Great Wall of China;
Structures turning into dust and ashes through scorching flames of fire;
Politicians of every nation seeks the key of knowledge to unlock the mystical events that were predicted by Michel De Nostradamus;
Canvassing many areas like scavengers they are faced with acquisitions like Nicodemus;
Lonely spirits flood the cities;
Blood showering down like bulks of rain drops;
As gun shots reek-a-shay off buildings from building tops;
Salvation is yearning by the people;
The black star lines ventures to return to the front line of the ocean shores;
Waiting for repatriation back to the home land of the cradle of hue-men;
their glories are as sweet and tasty, as meat is to carnivores;
Africans of all descents join together like the million men march of nineteen-ninety-five;
Like lions roaring for satisfaction,
the Diaspora screams out for joy and ecstacy as they revive;
Lost souls of the gehtto stands firm with their guns ready to blaze;
Unification of the righteous civilization repent upon the scornful retrospective days;
Like the Buffalo Soldiers of modern times;
The universe shines bright with the colors of red gold and green;
Like wolfs in sheep's clothing false prophets are revealed by their true nature;
Equal Rights triumph over the relentless chauvinistic monarchies;
Hue-man- entities (Humanity) continue to await the day when they should reign as kings and queens

written by: Ricky Mitchell
copyright 2005

27 February 2010


Bless your heart with fruitful thoughts;
As life's adversities tries to tear you apart;
Eternal life is God's gift that enables us to rest;
For we all know that he knows best;
Day by day brings a new tomorrow;
and along with time comes great sorrow;
But to revitalize one's mind and stand firm in God's line
Is the attachment that is divine;
Heighten your spirit and allow your angelic wings to fly;
For with each and every sorrowful moments that passes you by;
Bear in mind that even in dreadful times God is standing by; never to say good bye

written by: Ricky Mitchell
copyright 2006

07 February 2010


Who's to say that life is not compact with mysteries?
Who's to say that experiences are not the progeny of adversities?
Who's to say that the wise man of the East did not circumnavigate
the sphere in which he calls his residence?
Who's to say that the trick-knowledgical commercials that are being advertised by the upper class are not displaying the lord of the world existing in an adobe?
Who's to say that the erstwhile ecclesiastics of the Euro-centric views of the Amerikkklan were not stolen from the antediluvian African Cathedrals?
Who's to say that the bench mark of Democracy: Popular Sovereignty, Political Equality, and Political Liberty were not apprehended from the old African Constitutional System?
Who's to say that you are African- Amerikkklans and not Native Nubians/
Is it because you were rescued from savagery?
only to brought nine thousand miles across the Atlantic sea;
Onto a land plagued with decency
Who's to say?
You tell me

written by: Ricky Mitchell

30 January 2010


As you progress through time
insearch of a companion that intermingles with my your line;
you have come to overstand this premise of mine;
A calm heart will always feel comfortable and content;
its attachment to the will of God will manifest the attributes that can never be bent;
it is true that if a persons heart is ill, it can never be attached to one that is good;
people have spent their life living in darkness wishing that they could re-channel this mood;
Unsure about the avenues that they should take
many have succumb to superficial needs and wants in hope for a break;
feeling this way they are left unsuccessful and emotionally empty;
day to day they search for ways to camouflage their pity;
By focusing on the materialistic gains;
keeping themselves busy via drugs, drinking alcohol, going to parties,
and engaging in promiscuous activities;
they feel as though this will cure or clothe their pain;
 forgetting the focal point of attention, their hearts are left neglected and strain;
I have been told that when my heart gives me hard times not to run away from it;
instead pray or intellectually reflect upon self for a bit;
this will allow the auricle of its will to rightfully fit;
 Understanding the importants of the heart will secure heavenly love;
failure to accept Gods will, will cripple the heart,
and not allow it to grow or attach to its counterpart;
for this instance one would endure continual spiritual pain,
 and be left with a broken heart;
The heart does not lie, and it will never feel strong unless it is healthy;
it will live on when your physical beauty is gone;
trust your heart and it will never bring you into a state of uncertainty;
nor will it fumble into the wrong hands and leave you torn
written by: Ricky Mitchell


Two couples joined together;
 from the bitter emptiness of affection;
striving to make ends meet; their solidarity are compromised by division;
one deeply seeking the remedy that will purify an emotional insanity;
the latter searching for comfort through social equality and intimacy;
Uprooted from the inquiry of a counseling session;
through periodic engagements their connection grew into what is know as convenience;
both individuals sharing similiar instances: family binding;
husband and wife confined in the status quo of marriage;
children from past and present affiliation;
 bonds tied in very little socializing
Still the relationship persisted; feeling neglected and unappreciated;
confusion permeated the circle that once appeared so permissible;
in the heart of loneliness one senses no remorse from the other;
weeks would pass with little involvement;
one would inconspicuously show signs of discomfort;
Converstaion over the phone
which was once craved now has become like distorted messages;
hoping for a change in rhythm;
one would project pseudo-expressions of feeling delighted;
confused about whether or not the latter will be the one and only;
one poses questions to those who, presumptuously, would give wisdom;
remarks would indicate lust and carnal gratifications;
crushed by the large amount of assurance;
one is left with the burning sensation of a

written by: Ricky Mitchell
copyright 2008

17 January 2010


Tears of aspiration floods the ghetto with all types of inspirations;
day in day out the cries of the ghetto is heard;
guns blasting; police sirens screaming;
still the ghetto prays to see the day when their pains of suffering can be curled;
Trying to find their way out of poverty;
their minds are cluttered with all types of anarchy;
leaning towards every possible outcome to make ends meet;
never will they allow the aura of defeat;
confined in slums; endeavoring to find ways out;
the ghtettos of all foreign and domesticated lands strives to feed their mouth;
Ghetto stands on every corner; waiting for the lost souls to quench their thirst;
in return they receive respect through commerce;
they would even place their neighbors under surveillance;
so that when their residence are unattended,
like a thief in the night, their occupancy would swiftly meet their acquaintance;
Lets not forget the bodacious ghettos, who would bombard strangers with no remorse;
exposing all shapes and size of steals overtly;
intentionally to vandalize, rob, and steal with marginal force;
survival of the fittest only the strongest survives;

This is the code of the ghetto in order to stay alive;
Many ghettos have crossed the path of no return;
for money, power, and respect they continued to strive;
already born in a life of hell, how will they burn?
Few ghettos have chosen to allow their tears to taint the surface of papers and walls;
while others vocalize their emotions to the masses;
through rap, reggae, soul, deejay, hip-hop, punk rock, and the list flows;
Not to mention the ghettos' lustful and envious prides;
they would walk or drive the streets with class;
even though their burdens ripples like the ocean's tides;
cars sitting on 20s or 22 inch rims; shining with high intensity;
speakers blasting music of redemptions, rage, frustration, grievance, and sexual gratifications;
I suppose this is how the ghetto advertises that they are still the majority;
Living it up the bourgeoise way, the ghettos seek to assimilate;
through education, implantation, dilution, and experimentations;
they have inconspicuously detached themselves from where they came from;
conficting confronations explodes like the disaster of nine eleven;
words of scandalous, humiliation, and shameful expressions,
lashes out like thunderbolts from heaven;
these are the ghetto tears that still pours like rain;

Written by: Ricky Mitchell
copyright 2007


Yearning for your attention;
I am caught up in a dilemma that I have yet to mention;
I wish i could spill my entire affection;
but the unhealed scars that I have makes the feeling taboo;
longing to hold you in my arms;
I am left with just the thought of loving you;
Yearning for your attention;
I am caught up in a dilemma that I have yet to mention;
when I see your presence,
I believe more and more that you are my soul mate;
that you are the one that set my heart free;
Yearning for your attention;
I am caught up in a dilemma that I have yet to mention;
how can I place a smile on your face;
and be the sun that shines in your grace;
Yearning for your attention;
I am caught up in a dilemma that I have yet to mention;
I will cross the ocean for you and bring you the moon;
Will you be my strength and keep me in tune;
Yearning for your attention;
I am caught up in a dilemma that I have yet to mention;
I try to hold back the feelings that I have for you;
but each time that I do, cupid tweaks my heart with an arrow;
Yearning for your attention;
I am caught up in a dilemma that I have yet to mention;
I wish I could spill my entire affection;
but the unhealed scars that I have makes the feeling taboo;
longing to hold you in my arms;
I am left with just the thought of loving you

written by: Ricky Mitchell
copyright 2008