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Wednesday, April 30, 2014

The Next King Of Poetry Poem | Ryan Ngala


Edited, Recited, Typed & Written 
By
Mr. Ryan Ngala
Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN® Poetry


I write to recite,
That is my blog motto,
All I really need,
Is a pencil and something to write with.


And watch how my,
Rhymes flow so fluently,
I got so many thoughts,
Jotted down in my brain.


I have all my social media fans,
Right beside me,
As I start to write each different subject,
To become my number one favorite poem in the whole wide world.


Ryan the best writer,
My sister Wendy the best editor,
If I had a poetry book,
It will become the number one,
New York Times Best seller.

Saturday, April 26, 2014

My Momma Told Me Poem | Ryan Ngala

Edited, Recited, Typed & Written 
By
Mr. Ryan Ngala
Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN® Poetry™


My Momma,
Told Me,
To never talk,
To strangers.

As these homeless beggars,
Will be asking us for money,
But don't give us anything in return.

My Momma told me,
To keep on hustling,
And finding a job.

For a maximum minimum wage paid,
And that someday,
I'm going to become,
Filthy rich one day.

To always wake up,
My siblings early,
And also brushing
My teeth daily.

My momma,
Was also very
Young and
educated.

She was born in Nigeria,
Came to America
To raise us like grown up kids,
We are today.

My Momma told me,
To study and work hard,
Just to stay focus and pay attention,
But also listen on,
What she has to say.

From oldest to youngest,
As the next generations
Of super smart rich kids,
We were destine to become to be.

Who's That Chick On Facebook? Poem | Ryan Ngala

Who's That Chick On Facebook Poem


Edited, Recited, Typed & Written 
By 
Mr. Ryan Ngala
Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN® Poetry

Who’s that chick?,
I took a look at,
With my very own eyes,
When many of her pictures,
Gets commented on her Facebook page.

She sends a message,
To every guys’ Facebook profile,
With her pretty face, pretty lips, and nice thighs,
That just got me hypnotize.

Not knowing where I can ever see her once again,
She might see herself,
Posing for the camera,
Looking so clueless.

I should be commenting on your pix
Naming you one of the “Prettiest chick”
Even though she's a bad B*tch.

Friday, April 25, 2014

It's Hard To Say Goodbye Poem | Ryan Ngala

 It's Hard To Say Goodbye Poem


Edited, Recited, Typed & Written
By 
Mr. Ryan Ngala
Ryan Ngala’s Poems™ | STN® Poetry

It’s hard to say goodbye,
To all the friends that you love,
They live around the world,
Like even Africa or America as well.

I hope to see them soon,
So our friendship continues to bloom,
I hope you’ll stay in touch in tune.

In my heart theirs always room,
I could even begin to start to cry,
Because It’s so hard to say goodbye.

Thursday, April 17, 2014

My Mother Raised Me Poem | Ryan Ngala


Me as my younger self with my lovely mother
My Mom alongside with my sister Wendy


Edited, Recited, Typed & Written
By
Mr. Ryan Ngala & Mr. Rico Speight
Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN® Poetry™


My mother raised me,
To become a loving & caring son,
To take care of my lovely siblings,
And the rest of my day is done.


My mother raised us,
To do better in school,
Not to stare into space,
Acting like a fool.


My mother raised me,
To become a healthy teen,
She makes food for the children,
And asks us all to read.


My mother raised me,
To become a humble and nice man,
If they say something mean to me,
I can just keep my mouth shut instead.


My mother raised us,
To become successful leaders,
How did your mother raise you?

Copyright © 2008 - 2020 Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN® Poetry™.
All Rights Reserved.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Graduation Poem | Ryan Ngala


Edited, Recited, Typed & Written
By 
Ms. Diana Cruz, Mr. Ryan Ngala & Ms. Wendy Ngala
Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN® Poetry™


It’s a glorious morning,
And a special event,
Students looking their best,
As if heaven sent.


They start their goodbyes,
As well as their hello’s,
To the past and the present,
As their future's unroll.


They’re awarded with,
Smiles and cheers,
Out of control,
The previous year’s memories,
Bring the tears that start to roll.


The tears you said,
You wouldn’t cry,
When you got to this moment,
But with all the joy it brings,
You just have to own it.


Despite all the haters,
Who said you couldn’t do it,
You didn’t get mad but said,
You would just have to prove it.


You look out and see the ones you care for,
By your side,
Proud of what you’ve accomplished,
It was always inside.


Your God given talent,
Found it's way to shine through,
It was with the help of God,
And the power invested in you.


You never gave up,
Or sat still,
Now you’re,
Accepting gifts of,
Love and bills.


All of your hard work,
Your drive and desire,
Got you to this point,
Where the spark is the fire.


You’re on the right path,
Not your final destination,
But a road to success,
Because you furthered your education.


So go climb that ladder,
Without no hesitation,
Cause you made it,
To your Graduation!!!

Amazing Grace Poem | Ryan Ngala


Amazing Grace Poem
Edited, Recited, Typed & Written 
By
Mr. Ryan Ngala
Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN® Poetry™
RyanNgalasPoemsOfficial.Blogspot.com | STNPoetryOfficial.Blogspot.com

I see my vision,
As I glare through my television,
Hoping that one day,
I can become a star,
I can make a brighter future,
One day I will go far.

To be in whoever I want to be in life,
So I can strive,
In the highest obstacle,
And achieve on the highest pedestal.

I can embrace,
On the right path,
One day I will do better in math,
I can make a brighter future in my success,
In hoping that one day I can become the very best.

One day I will go further,
I rise to the top of the tallest mountain,
I'm never gonna stop as,
I reach to the highest bitter.

Like Rick Ro$$ say,
I want to be "Rich Forever",
I want to become a writer,
To become a better rhymer,
As I reach to the top,
Of the tallest skyscraper.

If You Ain't About Your Paper Poem | Ryan Ngala

If You Ain't About Your Paper Poem


Edited, Recited, Typed & Written
By
Mr. Ryan Ngala & Ms. Wendy Ngala
Ryan Ngala’s Poems™ | STN® Poetry™
RyanNgalasPoemsOfficial.Blogspot.com | STNPoetryOfficial.Blogspot.com

Verse 1:



If you ain't about your paper,
Then honestly,
They ain't worth nothing to me,
These broke mother fuckers will be,
Begging us for a got damn quarter.


But they ain't,

All about the dollars,
At least I find that sh*t,
So annoying sometimes.


One man once,

Came and approach to me,
He asked me for,
A spare quarter.


But what will that be,

All worth for and why?,
So then I told him, 
"You know what Na".


At least he couldn't used his,

Fucking common sense,
Just to pick up,
Five bottles and go make it,
His got damn self.


But instead he choose, 

To have someone else,
Like me to do his dirty work,
For him,
And I'm like,
What The Fuck?.


So I went about my business,

But these broke mother fuckers,
Who I can see in my very own eyes,
Approach and asked me for some of my own money,
At least I find them to be so got damn funny.


Will always be hollering, screaming and stressing out,
And for what?,
But I don't want to draw any attention,
To none of these broke mother fuckers.


That I see outside on the streets,

Asking me for money,
When in reality they ain't worth nothing or my time to me,
Why do these broke mother fuckers,
Want some of what I've have, huh!!!


I grind and hustle so hard for the paper,

That I make all the time,
But if you ain't about your paper,
Then you broke jokers need to step aside,
No Lie. 


Verse 2:



If you ain’t about your paper,
Then don’t come to me,
With your hands,
Wide open begging me or us for a quarter.


Because we will be making,
Billions, Millions, Trillions Or Thousands of dollars a year,
While you broke mother fuckers yourself,
Don’t get nothing.


You ain’t even,
Worth nothing
 to me hoe,

Like Chris Breezy told me,
These hoes ain’t loyal to me.


At least the people who look broke,
Don’t even have the common sense,
To even make their own money,

By themselves,
By collecting bottles and cans.


But instead,
I’m making all of this bread,
By myself,
Without no one’s help.


But with someone to guide me,
It’s so funny to me,
That we don’t owe them,
Much of anything.


Copyright © 2008 - 2020 Ryan Ngala’s Poems™ | STN® Poetry™.  

All Rights Reserved.

Paper Recycling Poem | Ryan Ngala

Edited, Recited, Typed & Written
By 
Mr. Ryan Ngala
Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN® Poetry™
RyanNgalasPoemsOfficial.Blogspot.com | STNPoetryOfficial.Blogspot.com


The way that I’m getting money,
Is so simple,
Fast and easy,
Money doesn’t grow on trees.

That’s a false statement to me,
It’s the fact that,
I’m collecting bottles and cans.

As I’m hustling for the paper,
I will make whatever I have,
To make $5 or $10 dollars,
And save the change for later.

It’s a pretty sweet idea,
So once I become,
Smart with my money,
I should spend it more wisely,
Even better.

Surprise Poem | Ryan Ngala

Edited, Recited, Typed & Written
By 
Mr. Ryan Ngala
Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN® Poetry™
RyanNgalasPoemsOfficial.Blogspot.com | STNPoetryOfficial.Blogspot.com



When I was up on the 5th floor,
Waiting to use the bathroom @ C.S.O,
I heard the door,
Started to open once more.


I saw Ms. Christa Miller,
Wanting to step out,
That’s when she started,
To get jumping and hollering out,
“Oh Sh*t!!!”.


Her heart went beating at,
A faster pace,
As if she had just saw a ghost.


Wanting to come and apologize,
But it was no worries for her,
It was at that point of my mind,
I just sit back and thought to myself.


I just started to realize,
She acted,
All so surprise to come and see me,
And that's no lie.

I Don't Have, To Hate On 'Em Fly Rich Girls Poem | Ryan Ngala

 I Don't Have, To Hate On 'Em Fly Rich Girls Poem

Edited, Recited, Typed & Written
By 
Mr. Ryan Ngala
Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN® Poetry™




It was back then,
When I was still,
In A. Philip Randolph Campus High School,
All the girls look so fresh to death.

Because they dress,
So professional,
The type of chick,
That everybody,
Wanna be their ride or die for,
Or wanna holler at them.

But It was at that point,
On my mind,
What I can do,
To make a chick.

Want to impress,
A fly cool dude like me,
So I started,
Wanting To write some poetry.

Started to sing like Floetry,
And In at any moment or an hour later,
All the fly ladies and the fellas,
From HCZ®'s College Success Office & Employment & Technology Center,
Started to watch,
My poem performance,
Only exclusively On YouTube.com/RyanNgalasPoems.

It was back then,
They notice how talented,
I really was,
From the very beginning.

Dem fly rich girls,
Who'll be on the cover,
Of the New York Times,
Or Vogue Magazine,
I don't have,
To hate on 'em fly rich girls,
And that's fine by me.

The Fat Cat Poem | Ryan Ngala

The Fat Cat Poem


Edited, Recited, Typed & Written
By 
Mr. Ryan Ngala
Ryan Ngala's Poems™ | STN® Poetry

The fat cat,
Sat on the mat,
Hitting a mouse,
With a baseball bat.

All while sitting on his hat,
Trying to catch a rat,
Running & saying that stupid brat,
Who was just sitting on his fat hat.