Malik+Tlili

"Poetry is the universal language..."-William Hazlitt

Malik Tlili
 * Ode to relations**

why should life be given to some? when hours of tears have ached the body numb. with each tear 10 shall come. the tune of life has reached its final strum.

Day by day, crawl to run. when eyes were met the world was spun. the mystical bond from father to son. life is a game, thats not to be won.

cruel rules, and dramatic twists. random stranger cuffing steal on wrists. taken so quickly as if it never exists. wandering disoriented in an inhumane mist.

life is a movie you will never expect. but who controls the remote that clicks play and eject?

Malik Tlili

I was raised by a short woman Pudgy woman Four eyed woman Brown haired woman Foreign woman "walk on the walk side and be carefuhll" Woman

Bickering Nagging Whining Complaining "make sure you clean your room" Woman

Always calling Always yelling Always beaming Always investigating Always prosecuting "Come home now !" Woman.

House woman Cleaning woman Cooking woman "I always make the food but nobody respect it." Woman.

"Stay out of trouble" "Be good" "Where are you" "Do your work" "Read a book" "N and O . No" Woman.

an Annoying woman a Leave Me Alome woman an Attention loving woman a "Please shut up mom" Woman.

Malik Tlili
 * Sonnet #34**

Malik does not like writing poetry. He struggles with writing iambic lines. He loses train of thought but finds the key. He's back on track and heads for the mines.

Golds and riches he finds deep down under. He changes lines to gold like king midas. writers beyond today read in wonder. Variety and sweet lines like splendas.

Visuals and words that stun people zen. How can one change from dislike to master. Words of art like picaso with a pen. Words fill the gaps like cracks filled with plaster.

Malik Tlili will rise into fame And with each piece of Art he Brands his name.


 * Home **

Time flies. And you stay still. If paper beats rock, then bills Can kill.

Sheet rock walls barley held together. But good enough to protect from the weather.

No ears, but the walls do listen. They hear the purpose of the tears that glisten.

Sweat stained floors and un-open doors. Squeaky steps and rusty drawers.

Magnetic fields attract those on the road. Back to a place that is their humble abode.

House of destruction with memories concealed inside.

Standing and daring the next to reside.

The poems I have written mainly revolve around the theme “family”. The ode is a poem about family and connecting to the point of view of children loosing someone special in their family. The next poem is about who and what type of people you are raised by. The poem is mainly about the different culture I was raised by. Also it was made for others to connect to the poem and notice the similarity of morals although from a different culture. The repetition is used as a tool of showing the style of constant rules being made by the person who is raising me. The repetition is also to seek out the feeling of mutual understanding of the rules constantly being made by the parent or guardian. The sonnet is a poem that explains the assembly line of one person believing they cannot write poetry, into a person writing masterpieces of poetry. The structure of this poem is based in an iambic pentameter. The sonnet consists of 5 feet per line. Which is 2 syllables per foot. The last poem is back to the topic of family. It explains the house that brings together a family and witnesses first hand their road to destruction and trouble. As the family goes the house stays for the next set of people to come. The structure of the poem consists of basic couplets. Which are pairs of lines containing end rhymes in each. Which is a basic AA-BB-CC- etc. rhyme scheme.

**Yusef Komunyakaa**


 * Ode To The Maggot**
 * by Yusef Komunyakaa**

Brother of the blowfly  And godhead, you work magic  Over battlefields,  In slabs of bad pork

 And flophouses. Yes, you  Go to the root of all things.  You are sound & mathematical.  Jesus, Christ, you're merciless

 With the truth. Ontological & lustrous,  You cast spells on beggars & kings  Behind the stone door of Caesar's tomb  Or split trench in a field of ragweed.

 No decree or creed can outlaw you  As you take every living thing apart. Little  Master of earth, no one gets to heaven  Without going through you first.

The poem “Ode to Maggots” by Yusef Komunyakaa seeks to show the significance of maggots by creating a feel of distress and respect towards the little things maggots do. The poet admires the large work that is done by the maggots being in such little figure. The poet attempts to help reveal how the insignificant plays such a role that people shun in today’s society. He gives the maggots great credit and respect to how all human beings and living things associate with maggots in life. “ Little Master of earth, no one gets to heaven Without going through you first.” The poet also mentions and personifies the maggots giving them credit for something they cannot physically accomplish. “You cast spells on beggars & kings.” This is a metaphor/personified line. Maggots cannot really “cast spells” but it adds to the poem to show a form of strength and impact of a small thing having a large affect on others.

**by Yusef Komunyakaa**
 * Slam Dunks**

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;">Fast breaks. Lay ups. With Mercury's <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Insignia on our sneakers, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> We outmaneuvered the footwork <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Of bad angels. Nothing but a hot <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Swish of strings like silk <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Ten feet out. In the roundhouse <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Labyrinth our bodies <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Created, we could almost <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Last forever, poised in midair <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Like storybook sea monsters. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> A high note hung there <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> A long second. Off <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> The rim. We'd corkscrew <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Up & dunk balls that exploded <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> The skullcap of hope & good <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Intention. Bug-eyed, lanky, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> All hands & feet. . . sprung rhythm. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> We were metaphysical when girls <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Cheered on the sidelines. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Tangled up in a falling, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Muscles were a bright motor <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Double-flashing to the metal hoop <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Nailed to our oak. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> When Sonny Boy's mama died <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> He played nonstop all day, so hard <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Our backboard splintered. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Glistening with sweat, we jibed <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> & rolled the ball off our <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Fingertips. Trouble <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Was there slapping a blackjack <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Against an open palm. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Dribble, drive to the inside, feint, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> & glide like a sparrow hawk. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Lay ups. Fast breaks. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> We had moves we didn't know <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> We had. Our bodies spun <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> On swivels of bone & faith, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Through a lyric slipknot <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Of joy, & we knew we were <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Beautiful & dangerous.

This poem creates the visuals and feel of different cultures of basketball. It gives excerpts of the way basketball has an effect on others lives and their experience and relation to the sport. “ When Sonny Boy's mama died /He played nonstop all day, so hard / Our backboard splintered.” The enjambments used in these lines create a feel of suspense and questionable outcome. After the first line it leaves suspense of wondering what happened when his mother died? The next line leaves off with him working so hard, and the question that it leaves off with is “How hard” and it then uses visuals of the backboard splintering. Which creates a visual of intense play. This poem also uses many visuals and similes explaining the movements of the game. Such as “glide like a sparrow hawk.” “Glistening with sweat” which creates a visual of a hard working sport. The poem uses visuals in many other sections as well and with these visuals it helps create a feel of what the sport is like and how it has an effect on peoples’ lives.

by Yusef Komunyakaa
 * The Smoke House**

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;">In the hickory scent <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Among slabs of pork <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Glistening with salt, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> I played Indian <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> In a headdress of redbird feathers <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> & brass buttons <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Off my mother's winter coat. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Smoke wove <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> A thread of fire through meat, into December <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> & January. The dead weight <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Of the place hung around me, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Strung up with sweetgrass. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> The hog had been sectioned, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> A map scored into skin; <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Opened like love, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> From snout to tail, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> The goodness <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> No longer true to each bone. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> I was a wizard <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> In that hazy world, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> & knew I could cut <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Slivers of meat till my heart <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; line-height: normal;"> Grew more human & flawed.

The poem sends the effect of a wondrous and strange experience of being in a smoke house. It sends out a curious and suspenseful effect to the reader. The poet explains the discovery of the smoke house and all the different types of things he found when playing in the smoke house. He uses many visual lines and description of the way he felt about the actions taking place in the smoke house. The poet doesn’t use any type of rhythmic or rhyme scheme patterns throughout the poem. The poet attempts to understand that it is a smoke house but it is still unclear to him. I was a wizard / In that hazy world,” “ I played Indian / In a headdress of redbird feathers”. The poet dressed up and played in the smoke house and throughout these games he would play he would understand more and more about the actions taking place in the “hazy world.”