• Savant

Poem Commentary

I don't know if it's ethical for one of my favorite poems to be one of my own but it is certainly realistic.  LOL.  At the time I wrote this I felt that it was the culmination of all my creative, literary talent.  This is why I write.  This is why I have chosen this art form.  This is my gem.


The corner is an

Invisible Prison.

I heard them say there was a ceiling in this building

And no matter if I worked the weekends, led the meetings, or beat the chief in,

My wages weren’t increasing. 

Said it was something wrong with my skin.

Despite the average, I made it through the classes

Surpassing all the stats of the historically black

Enough to cease my skeptic’s laughing.

On time, fighting “Itis” in the afternoon

Biding slight for arriving at the top too soon

Now it’s revealed that in this field I can’t excel my shell.


The corner is a

Profitable Poisonous Position

I reach into the streets to find the meat

To fill my pockets,

Hunger, sprung up on my folks and even though I’m dodging rockets,

This is the only way to stop it.  Only way to lock the block up.  These Peruvian leaves of chocolate.

Don’t know how the ghetto got it.

Ghettos aint never close to water

Palmetto ports are even farther

And though we hardly got a pot for relief

Every pot on the block bakes rocks for the street

And every street got a spot for the rocks and clucks to meet

And dust initiates the beef between us

And them across the streets, it cooks

And we never stop to see, them crooks

Look just like we.


The corner is

Convergence of defenses

On this side his eyes are open wide

Nose too

Hoping to

Get a hold of the token inside you.

He knows you been lied to, he knows what you cried through,

He knows he can fix what was broke if he tried to.

But you always deny dude

Despise the look in his eyes AND

You tell him he aint special, that he’s just like any man,

You love him but just can’t.

You trust him but just can’t

Let him wreck your protection

Especially not no black man.

Rejection has him now mad at you

Projecting a gangsta rap attitude.

He used to see you like glory, but you know how the story goes,

He don’t love them hoes… no more.


The corner got


Leave your past behind the line when you bend it.

Being tempted by your flesh but not caving

Saying to your live in Boo you’re not staying

Praying through your tests to your blessings.

Lessons you learned some,

Respect, yes you earned some.

In retrospect they’d say you turned one.  Corners.

Poem Comments


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cocothepoet commented on Corners


Wow!! I loved that!! So real and true to the game!!!

RettaJ commented on Corners


this was a really great poem...would be great if it were rapped or recited in someway to a beat...loved it

SavVySam commented on Corners


A fantastic write! You should be proud of this effort and rightfully so there are some real gems here! "Leave your past behind the line when you bend it" WOW!!! Great job, I enjoyed this deep and meaningful read!

Charlie23 commented on Corners


This is awesome! Turned a corner, dropped a line, maybe it was just a dime. Dunno what that means, sounded fitting for mean streets. Had me completely caught up in the seriousness of it all, until I started laughing. Even harder when the next line I came to was "Metamorphosis". Fell like I fully developed into something when reading this poem! Great write!



Nice Charlie, nice. A dime may have been dropped. LOL. Some streets are mean. Some streets are pleasant. Streets are never the definition though. Really, all they are is a means to get from one place to another. Thanks for checking out my gem and taking the time to comment on it.

ginga commented on Corners


Yes Corners is a fine poem that emotes so much intensity and personal vindication. A poem that tells all that needs to be said savant. ginga



I gotta keep it real Ginga and I believe this perspective is not so far fetched. I think that is why I think many will be able to relate to it. Every block got a corner. Thanks for the comments.

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

Savant’s Poems (5)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Morning 2
Kind Words 6
Perspective 4
Corners 24
State of Man 45