Enjambment
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sometimes it comes upon you like
the crashing of a tidal wave.
you don’t even hear the damned harbinger, and
suddenly you’re drowning in its depths. you can’t breathe,
The L-Word
Living in a nova till death takes our breath away.
Loving with merciful potent of deceit.
I live my life fleeing the glare of the sun,
I spend all my tears in the safety of night,
I watch all the blood from my arteries run
Down my arms, and it somehow feels right.
Ah... You seem to be far away from me,
Enjoying in the Heavens with joy and glee.
Yet I recall the continual soft glow upon your smiling face,
And the aroma of your touch, And enchanted embrace.
three houses, one hotel, and it seemed every guy
on my street still conversed at the corner. there's
always an element to hide; some grams of H' to
the breast pocket, weed and some ganja. Green;
A dismal shroud slunk
From slackened hands,
Dense rain draped the valley
In its musty, velvet folds,
Dogfighting flurries of
Paper airplanes wavered,
Plummeted under those whistling bombs,
In the slushy shine of winter mornings,
The harsh, huffing breaths of a
Hushed and harried engine heaving
Its hoard of hearts and hopes
Hastens the horizon, rushes
The clicking clack on slickened rails
Say it’s for freedom
Do anything to help,
alter and abolish
Displacing people
Fighting for their lives
oh boy, I laugh out loud.
We’ve really gone and done it now
you can’t hide Me---
I cut my teeth on wires
the two ends that do not meet
Despite commonly needing pen and paper to compose,
I feel most poetic, most suffocated in my own
artistry, with trickles of crimson falling down my thighs;
missed like mist on summers day
are when brown arms and green necks thrive
on sunlight and gist
footsteps and good meds in sync to beat of crux
as luxurious rubber gives its everlasting kiss
The river has been guarded
by ice for years, waiting
to be thawed. One
day a drop of sun falls
in the middle of the river.
A crack forms,
I wrote this last year. We were working on poems in our English Literature class and our teacher gave us a link to a portfolio of photographs taken by a war photographer named Larry Burrow during the Vietnam War.
All of Earth's mothers
are Earth
and are Earth as seed.
The rest of us
are Earth flowers and
Earth evolving.
Often wash your hands
With soap and water
For 20 seconds at least,
After going to the bathroom
Before you sit to eat
And after blowing your nose,
Coughing or hands to your nose
While you sneez
Let me spill happiness on the
road leading to your soul
like spilled incense from a censer.
When gods remove their mask
the face behind is no more
than a creator. An artist
on days ego is allowed to sing
becomes a creation. Breaths
spun from their own lungs
my living lord
my living God
my hero
my dad
one who fulfilled all my wishes
one who understands all my feelings
and one who cry when I get dwellings
NIGHT BECOMES DAY&
DAY BECOMES NIGHT
BECAUSE OF YOUR SMILE'S BRIGHT
THAT IS SHE
EVENTHOUGH WE ARE LIKE CAT AND RAT
SHE ADDS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL FEATHERS IN MY HAT
THAT IS SHE
I wash you off of me,
Like a bird flicks water through its wings.
Water running down my skin
taking the feels
Of you with it.
Even though
You've not touched me.
Scarlet flames of fire
dance across my fingers.
The light cannot harm me,
for I am its master.
Fire bends to my will,
and dies at my command.
The dark can't consume me,
I find poetry playing in your sweet smile,
Passion reflected in the universe of your eyes,
Music that twists and shimmers in your voice.
When I wish to create beauty,
I take my pen and sketch you
In words.
I have searched the world,
the deep oceans of great minds,
to find this word--
a word without a tongue--
and if you know it,
please tell it to me,
and I will speak it till my lungs give way,
We’re in a state of constant clapotis—
reaching chaotic spikes that look like progress,
but never really moving at all.
Simulated punctuated equilibrium.
The clacking of the keyboard
The movement of the mouse
The planning of the storyboard
The shaping of the models
Bringing life to a still frame
And rejoycing towards the final product
A Melody on the Strings of Life
Dicey strings loom ahead on that enormous stage,
I tremble, terrified of onlooking eyes.
Piscine pissed upon, I think to myself,
I must go now.
My roots exposed,
I leave, for new shores.
The stones of my home
are ground, from the
shoes my ancestors,
Look at that house plant,
why does it tremble?
Look at all the leaves that have sank,
why are you so gentle?
Why are you so devoid of light?
and if all else is to falter,if the existence of our bodieshere at the same timeecho as an accidental rarity;the mercy of life’s hands,allowing the continuation ofour breathing—if all else is sorely
Freshman year is terrifying.
Your friend’s older siblings told you your friends would leave you,
your teachers fail you,
your upperclassmen hate you.
The long, blinding rays shocked him.
His hands glowed silver, reaching for her brilliance.
She peered into the darkness, aching for his touch,
They gazed across
Swansong
Mute swans of Europe, their song is legendary,so rare their voice, when poets sang that singingthey spoke not of the tone nor cadencesbut of the final utterance of the dying.
Standing in the rainunder a slate grey sky,grass tickling the bottomsof bare feet, Arms spread wideto embrace it allas the wind howlsand the trees sigh. Thunder roars and
You stand
Under a plethora of maple leaves,
A flamboyant display of color
Paired with a crystal blue sky.
You breathe
Making eye contact with the 75-year-old man reading a YA novel next to me on the plane I beg to be thinSkinny enough to slide through the window sill It took him all his life to knowIt took me ten years to quit nail biting and now I wait for my fi
I am the "fat friend"
I am the friend that pokes and prods
I am the brunette friend
I am the friend who cries herself to sleep
I am the friend with horrible anxiety
I am the friend with terrible paranoia
I hate myself Don’t try to convince me that There is something special Because if I look closer I see my faults Even though I feel different It’s in my mind I can’t say I see that I’m special Because There is nothing good about me It’s not true
No child should die in the dawn of life,
They as bright and shining as early morning,
Their just-beginning story, that first word, paragraph, chapter
Scarlet sunsets,
Flaming sands,
Blood-red roads lead to oblivion.
Mountains hide
The wretched screams
Torn from a people
I’ve considered putting my hair
Into a ponytail when I’m sleeping
Because my hair not soft against my
Cheek and gets in my eyes and is
Hot. I’ve also considered getting
Another better-paying job. Both
In a time before cars
Or trains
Or planes
He wielded lightning like a spear
Hurling it at the ground
Screaming as it makes contact
A bright, beaming smile is thrown
to the lens, it’s owner alive with the sense
of recklessness and absurdity
that allowed him such a following.
why, I am but a modern Orpheus
I open my delicate ribcage
and beckon your song
from my heartstrings
pulling each tender note
out to ring through the air
why, if I could place my love for you
I woke up in a puddle of blood sweating
All I hear is “my son is hit” and paramedics screaming
“We can’t save him”
I thought I was dead
I woke up in a puddle of blood sweating
All I hear is “my son is hit” and paramedics screaming
“We can’t save him”
I thought I was dead
it hurts. to you it burns like magma
slowly, slowly
creeping over the elbow.
it hurts it hurts it hurts, but
the tears
they hurt more.
they are not fire
or hail or
asphalt.
texas,don,g,nutt,59,poem,im me so who you im me so how could this be im me so who be you im me so what it do talking down get down round for round known but the thought the point is who you you say who me i be the m,v.p.
He was a young man.
Gazing into a pool of the self love
he was never given by the culture around him.
He was alone.
Knowing he would always be told
he was never allowed vulterability.
He’s the one you assume is just dealing with problems,
the kid who hustles others.
Whose poker games and magic tricks led to
close fisted hand overs of money and muttered discontent.
the Earth once asked its lover
what are humans made of?
same as you
replied the Girl
explain
said the Earth
i have iron in my blood,
oxygen in my lungs,
and salt in my tears,
I.
I am from paperbacks
Poolmate liquid chlorine
And Gauloises cigarettes.
I am from abraded hardwood floors,
Scraping feet lent a soundless echo,
Going to boarding school didn’t seem like it was going to be so intimidating.
It was always something I knew I would have to do.
It never hit me that I was on my own
I was once here
In this hollow room
Nine years ago.
Holding a simple rose
Parting from the one I love
Oh what a humbling feeling it is
to watch all your hard work fall into the wrong hands,
oh, the wretched feeling!
The audacity she had to steal my deserved position,
I was too young the first time-
And it is only one time for now.
And why shouldn't you have another try?
But now,
unlike before,
even through your cloudy eyes,
you see his war decorations
At one point, just a small insignificant
Freshman trying to find their place
In the sea of people. Whispers from peers
"You're a man now,
Step Up.
C'mon, don't let life drown you.
If you don't Step Up for yourself,
no one will.
You need to take control."
Why does it feel like
I'm losing control?
She sits in the dark corner, all alone. She
Is passionate without knowing how to feel.
She can see happy people with their friends while
She can't sense any love.
She smiles for those around her, and
Perspiration and butterflies
Trembles of anxiety
Drowning in blue with tangled chords-- annoying
Heavy metal hung around my clammy skin
I am an American citizen
Born and raised a southwestern Virginian
A member of the USA's dominion
Yet people are still of the opinion
Lost to an act so long ago, a kid already but I didn’t know
what it was you that you did and yet although
I was so naïve I could tell how wrong it was to not go
I remember the one phrase I used to tell myself all the time.
“Man, I wish I was a grown up.
Adults get to do whatever they want, it would be so cool”
But what is cool about
It’s your fault,
So why am I ashamed in myself?
It’s because I became a person
I never wanted to be:
An avid sports spectator,
A slut,
I remember the house on Sycamore.
How it sat in the corner of the cul de sac,
taking up as much space as the four bedroom,
three and a half bath
room house could take up on that dead
end road.
Born from craddling arms and tender kisses,
love sprang to life.
And by way of rigid rules and confinment to rooms,
the rebel girl was tamed. Despite
their heart's affections,
my parents governed sternly.
Frustrated
I am pulling on the
barbed hooks stabbed in
to my mind which is
just
pulling teeth and
that very thought just
Hate
They say it is equal to love
The strength of passion in a different form
I feel only one emotion
When you whisper that you love me
My RAGE, with the degrees of a thousand Hiroshimas,
ERUPTS!
reverberates,
reverberates,
reverberates,
up and down the chords of my body.
Strummed by the unwarranted jab from
kid.
When I was twelve I asked my mother if
I could go bungee jumping. She said
NO. But she let me go paragliding.
I took the chance.
i keep my keys
between my fingers
i carry pepper spray
i call my mom
just in case
i text my best friend
i hold my thumb over
She:
A fighter for those who couldn’t fight,
Born into anti-semitism
Bullied and chastised
Wanting inclusion
Fought until it happened.
Hello, I’m finally greeting you now
I’m sorry I’m so late
I guess I am now just ready
To face you confidently.
Sometimes I look back
I’ve never been in love.
So I’m shaking things up,
writing a love poem but no I’ve never been in love.
You are ready for people to disappoint you
Because it is what they have been doing
You feel as if no one will ever care
You don't take notice of those who always try their best
The last year of middle school
when so many things changed
The year I truely grew up
and had to change
The year I joined the high school marching band
and made new friends
With an unparalleled zest for life,
the bivalve mollusk spends day
after day, after day
luxuriating in a cocoon of wet sand
for thirty-five arcadian years.
Our true love began with dedication
Our mutual feelings we do impart
Your love leaves me with a bright sensation
To you I grant this gift: my loving heart
Compassion spreads its wings like a white swan
I stop your breathing
I make your knees wobble
I flutter around in your stomach
I make you cry, chanting in your ear,
He must be several hundred feet off, but He weighs on me already
Do I head the other way? I only say that because
He’s homeless.
What a selfish Trick, huh?
It holds you down,
And it's hard to fight,
It threatens to consume you,
If you're not careful it will,
The fear a failing, regrets, dying,
It's overwhelming.
I remember the smell of flesh
sizzling on hot cement, the wind
tangling my hair, my toes turning to cherry tomatoes. Jump!
they laugh in my ears,
Before hath shorn
Of heartache born
And all will scorn
For thou art torn
Notes on the Windigo
Do you know the Windigo?
A beast so low
I look around and my eyes fall
Am I the only one who feels this urge to run
to the hills, to my bed, to the arms of my mother
I hear my heart thumping so loud it drowns them
Quaking
Shaking
Heartbeats overtake me
Thump
Thump
Thump
Goes the heart of oppression
Stressin
Hoping to be blessed.
Can I be the woman God calls me to be
patience is a virtue
in braver hands than I,
like a storm made whole of eyes
‘tis a joke played by minds none too wise.
where does confidence linger?
patience is a virtue
in braver hands than I,
like a storm made whole of eyes
‘tis a joke played by minds none too wise.
where does confidence linger?
Those eyes
Those beautiful, blue-green eyes.
Smiling, laughing, then
Nothing at all.
At least not towards myself.
A glance,
A wave,
A passing infatuation,
D i s s i p a t i n g
Through these perilous roads
Under the cover
Of the night sky
Glaring forces
Spring from the darkness
And with pain at the temples
A green leaf fell and
I stood up to catch it; My
breath was caught instead.
The wind managed to
blow breaths to push leaves beyond
I don't believe in omens
I don't believe in signs
Though our paths have crossed and
Our fates seem to align.
Am I in denial if "Coincidence!" I cry,
Blind to unseen strings?
Is chance a myth, a lie?
I would like to look at the sky, but the starsopen my blood and disturbthe verses on the mouths of the dead:
The yellow man under the drawbridge saw that I was lost so
He asked me for my phone number today
For the third day in a row
But I said no because it wasn’t the fifth.
and the sun rose in the west today because it thought the world was dead.
but it is alive because I woke up this morning and breathed.
and you know, I have always wondered
what is death to the mortician?
Love is wicked
It is not possible that
there is hope
after the break-up
I believe that
We are just naive and intolerant..
“I love you more than anything,” you once whispered in my ear,
while you read aloud Goodnight, Moon in my pillow forts,
and hummed quiet lullabies so I could rest.
“I love you too.”
Is voting the only time you’re able to truly validate your voice?
I’ve heard about the police brutality, the shootings, food insecurity
But turning 18 is not the only time you get to make a choice
Fly with me to Neverland,
A plane ride away.
Find your soul,
Or barter it away.
Quick fame
Make a name,
We question the origin of things and look for scientific explanations
To justify and provide reasons to the start of our nation
It comes down to a significant simple story of creation
Fairness, somethin’ extendin’ only in our hands.
Our weak, ivory hands.
We wrap the privilege ‘round our fingers,
I write my words on the page
and watch them disappear
I write them over
again
and again,
it’s like they were never there.
yet no matter how much
I write
and write
When we parted waysLife became very different.I don’t know about the other sideOf this chainlink, my glances overTell me life hasn’t went downhill.
Like the sky is to the ground, was love distant to us.
Over the cradle years of our lives, meats we did enjoyed
Vicinities of peace, had we, during breakfasts, but our
Enemies are now the game changers; for
I bet you he was different then, more beautiful, definitely.
His walk would’ve been more refined, his carriage better placed.
Back when there was chestnut in his hair instead of grey.
"She burst into chaotic silence. Dislocated pieces danceddelicately until they hit the surface. They were greeted by soft ripples,then swallowed; conveyed to union by passagethrough the very same water she feared.
You start to grow up
You grow up together
You think that honestly you've known him forever
But then it hits
Like a wave, a tsunami, some might saySweeps you off your feet in its powerful sway
He opens the door,
The inky night greets him outside,
After a repetitive hug and a simple goodbye,
He parts in the white car
Matching license plates,
Film class
A documentary, my teacher says
The bear man appears on the screen
He lives with them
The Bears
“Dangerous creatures”
he says into the camera
He loves them
Be the person you needed. Those words have echoed in my mind
since my time immemorial. I know not who or what imparted this
tiny gem into my brain. At different times, I needed different people;
We’re all just
Playing a game
Trying to win at life
So I’m gonna
Touch the pain away
And scream my name
Goodbye Mr.Funnyman.
You forgot to take your bow.
You left the stage in mid applause,
who do we laugh at now?
Was that the problem?
Our foolish eyes just didn't see
So many thoughts flood my mind
I look to the sky and ask God "one more time?"
I made it a habit to search for love, acceptance, and comfort in others
She fell in love with the people
she returned because of them
because she wanted to love them better
and she did.
Though she also learned to love
the moments of the sunset over the lake
Your actions have not gone unnoticed
Nor your tears and prayers taken for granted
Your sacrifices, encouragement, and love shaped me
Into the strong independent woman I am soon to become
Am I tainted now? I’m asking out of curiosity.
My darling, sweet child of mine,
Don’t blame yourself for this act of atrocity.
A twisted man crossed the line,
At home, beige, tight walls squeeze
until you pop
outside to discarded happy-
meal bags, cigarette buds, broken-down
cars that rust
your lungs with the ash
of your parents and their parents,
the first time I stank
when I kept you dead
when I should have manured
you into the root of fresh promises
as I was oft-tempted in death
where I can't find ash
so I choose my body as the crypt
I like that she writes about the mountains within the mole hills;
how she tells of big awakenings and small deaths
in grocery store visits or quiet cross country flights home.
I like that her story becomes our story.
Just as a waterfall spills over into tomorrow
and only into tomorrow,
Every molecule unable to return back in time
to its exact point of origin,
1.write a poem, she says, abouta time you felt otheredi'm not in the class, butsince i'm here, i write naming the names i was namedthe last--so devastating so ugly--a wordI hardly dare sayfaggot, they called mea thing to be tied and b
I turn to writing whenever I want to be cruel.
A tip I learned years ago, back in grade school.
I couldn't hit anyone as a stupid school rule,
So I turned to my book where I could ridicule.
Frantic wings beating blindly,
Bombarding the window pane.
Beak nimbly tap tap tap tapping the glass it doesn't see,
Jewel toned chest sparkling sapphire in the sunlight.
Historians agree that our ancestors lived in caves.
Sheltered under a rock, we adapted to walls,
a safety mechanism.
From caves to townhomes, we kept our walls,
built a fourth one,
shaded the windows,
Poetry has given me a way to express myself
To process my deepest thoughts
That I don’t dare let anybody know
Poetry is what brought my mama to tears
A wealthy kingdom fights no war.
The princess is inside her room;
The king is dead there on the floor.
No one could have foretold the doom
The monomyth is this: the unknown will callThe monomyth is this: when the men come, light yourself on fireThe monomyth is this: dream.
The monomyth is this: the unknown will callThe monomyth is this: when the men come, light yourself on fireThe monomyth is this: dream.
There used to be less life in my paper
A split between my spirit and my text
More frustration over my pent up self
Sometimes
I just want to
crawl up into your ribcage
and nestle there.
I want to
read all of the breaths in your library of a ribcage.
I want to
the sound of emptiness
as a period is ommitted,
the comma's slow pace -
the dash's quick burst.
the calmness of a line's end.
The boldness of caps,
the sweet softness of lowercase.
Looking back at the tear-stained pages
Or the fantastical flurry
Or even the self-beating words of a young mind,
I find something sweet and fitting
In the art of permanence.
Through the frosty window, in crisp air
and a silent sea of white
I see the tiptoe of a fox, bright as a burning ember
My breath snatched, I stare—
dark eyes
Then I see the mounds, scattered—
You? No really you?you, with your… FaceYour small eyes mousy hair big feet and frankly HUGE noseEveryone says YOU are more beautiful than MY LailaPffft
I came from the moon-
A crater left in the wake
Of a girl who couldn't stay still
The changing faces of my father
Trying to find the daughter he carved-
Never content because he can't find me
Dear Friend-Turned-Rapist,I used to stare, mesmerized At the ocean roaring outside of the windows I was told never to open,
Dear…
Old friend who made me happy,ecstatic,and Joyful
You kept me calm,collected, and full of life
Old friend you…
Dear Happiness,
Please don't ever leave me.
I wish to be hand-in-hand with you until the end.
Continue to spread your wings and soar to unreachable heights.
Dear Anxiety,
Dear Ibuku,
How thankful I am for you.
You gave me love and you gave me care,
Gave me the Word of God and love for prayer.
Dear ETs,
I’m sorry, I cannot find a way
To bring myself to fully answer your question
Regarding humanity’s ending passage of days;
Lovely Ummi,
I remember the hustle and bustle
Of the crowds, of the people--
Bodies pressed against each other,
Like the Baklava, you made
Spin, Spin, Spin:
My mind is railing,
As you are constantly indecisive
Between
Right
Or
Left.
I attempt to untangle the enigma of your mind,
To Your Highness, who sits in his throne
Once a year. The rusty crown
Waves its golden scepter, now opaque,
As a hammer shatters the national pride
Life can be hard
Life can be tough
Why is my life a mess
I find myself stuck.
Lost in space
Nobody to help.
My life is a mess
Like messy books on a shelf.
Most times I wonder
Dear moon,
You shine so brightly,
which I can never understand,
in a night so dark
when so few people
are actually outside.
Dear Crocuses in my Front Yard,
You still have
six more weeks until
it is safe—
I know,
it is warm today—
but false hope
could kill you.
Regrettfully,
The Gardener
Dear D,
You’re my worst enemyWho is always there with me,
From the moment I awakeTo the thoughts that I make.
Dear Home,
I laid in your living room with Taylor,
Petting Penny as she fell asleep.
I stood in front of your bright green door with Taylor,
Waiting for Mom to take a picture before our first day of school.
You provide a picture as realistic as can be,Granting people far and wide with the ability to seeWhat others eyes gaze upon day after day.But to keep
Want to see where this shortage of discipline kicks in?
Take a peek at US presidential elections
Inflating white hate whome congregate behind behind racist gates like devolving apes
New York,
You're a strange place.
Filled with some that fit in and some that don't
With some that fit in because they don't
Some who make it, and some that won't
Hey. Me again.
I’m getting so tired of our little
back-and-forths,
so I’m calling it right now.
Don’t come back to me.
I know what this is,
and I’m done with your abuse.
The Mask
Why is it that we all hide under a mask?
To feel the need to hide under the face of another?
I won’t be a hypocrite.
I will admit to it.
Dear Sarah,
It's been a while now. A long long while.
I still remember when I met you,
on that cold, rainy day where I was introduced to you.
Without any further mention
Dearest Reflection,
The sun illuminates my room.
You present yourself.
Once upon a time, blue and hollow,
now radiant like the star light flowing in.
Your smile, once seldom, rare, and far between,
New Year’s was a mouth… a river… of want
stretching like power lines in the dark. Between our bodies
laid a desperate thing.
Dear Sparrow,
We are not so different.
I come from the boarding house, a place with the slow pulse
of exhaustion, a place with a grim greeneyed monster who waits
Red bird,
You sit there on my windowsill,
staying oh-so still,
keeping watch over me
amd my house.
Red bird,
you are like a burning flame,
that burns all day
with a passion unnamed-
astimerunsoutthereissomuchtosay
beforeirunoutofbreath
andbeforeirunoutoftime
likehowmuchyoumeantome
howiwouldgiveeverythingforanothersecond
buthowtheclockticksfastertogether
Dear Me;
RE: Let Loose Your Sail
Life is simple, yes - it is quick
Time moves fast and starts to slip
Slip through our fingers
Whether calloused or soft
where were you on my 10th birthday when i got bruises instead of birthday cake
IT WAS A BLESSING IN DISGUISE HE SAID
I DONT WANT TO HEAR ABOUT ANOTHER BLESSING IN DISGUISE
why is it so hard for u to look me in my eyes
Freedom has snuck its way into the English dictionary,
Developed a non-existing definition,
And fooled the human mind and heart.
Some slaves to man
I think you took something from me
I don't want it back:
The fire in my heart,
The music in my eyes,
The sea inside my fingertips
Dear Anger,
People wear you like a battle cloth;
Is it when they knock your door?
Or you wander at will…
Dear my fears,
You’ve weakened me, but I have always overcame you.
No matter the situation, I’ve surpassed the seemingly endless obstacles in which you have bombarded me with.
Where should I go,
Now that you've turned the corner?
I wasn't really paying attention to
Where I was going, just following
The breathing heart within your familiar jacket.
I'm so easy to lose, because
dear misery,
i’m writing this letter to ask you to leave.
i can no longer take the constant torment.
i can no longer take the constant pain.
Dear Love,
I hate you.
Yet you mean the world
to the world.
Your deft hands lure me
When I was not with you,
I would lay on my sofa,
And check my phone
Every three minutes.
As if crying everyday were not enough,
because i love you
i only smile as i watch you tilt back the milk carton
white drops running down your chin
the lips softly parted.
i only smile even though
It overwhelmes me- just staring at its vastness
The deep blue consumes my thoughts
Until I don't know which way is up.
Down, down, down it plunges;
The darkness stretches for miles.
The pushing, the pulling,
The shouting, the shoving.
Why are we like this
When we can be loving?
The left and the right
Blame the other side
But they're really two waves
Buried underneath the skin
Every box you tried to put me in
Could not show you now what is really inside
All the promises; why did you lie?
Upon my face you laid your hand
Sent me into a forbidden land
Do you remember that one night,
when we first got together?
Pure and innocent
Beautiful yet risky
I wanted to be with you too.
You
Me
And a time machine
Makes three
We can leave
This place
And see
All there is to see
balance
i don’t think
about equilibrium when i’m at your side.
i don’t have to try
to make you see through flaws
Do you know I love you?
Because I love you.
I never knew it could be like this.
You take my hand, smile,
And I feel whole again.
The umbrella?
It doesn't matter how wierd it looks,
I would even like it weirder.
As long as it covers me and to my hand it hooks.
I didn’t know what love can do, I thought it was all true
The elders were right it contained pain, but I am not ashamed from what I knew
I think break-ups are so hard because
You’re not only severing yourself from the person
But from the symphony, and the sandwich shop
You used to go to before each show
your hands are warm,
they never harm.
your eyes look at
me, and in that
smile of yours I
see the present
dark fades as she shines
a knight of silver
empty vessel made
by uncaring hands
who fights forever
him.
i had a dream about him last night,
he was sweet and charming and
took me to an aquarium,
i woke up in a cold sweat,
Linda Hayden
Maple Leaf
Marmalade colored trees blazed against the
cold, whirling skies overhead.
I picked up a maple leaf that showed itself
You
Are the hope around my neck.
The pendant on my chest rests on the
Padlock to my blood that Stained
all over the dress you stressed to see me-
Loving Me
Means you care for me
Loving Me
Means you know me by who I am
Loving Me
Means you listen to me
Loving Me
Means you want to be with me
Loving Me
Three words said too much
But not enough
With meaning
Or without
Familiar with both I am
Love is being one with eachother
Love is comfort
Love is peace
Love is communication
He looks into the mirror
And sees a dying man.
He looks upon a man of shame,
Of torture and disdain.
He sees a man that knew no joy
Until Aladdin came.
Every night he dreams of life
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Who is fairest of them all?
Not me, that much is true
I'm not as beautiful as you.
Of the billions among billions
of stars in our solar system,
only one
leads to a land
of unspeakable beauty
of incredible adventure
Once upon a time,
in a land far away, kids
slept more than five hours a night. Kids
had more than a cup of coffee for breakfast. Kids
hung out with their friends after school.
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Fair-skinned, beautiful, and kind
She sings, birds listen, and fly to her hand
The World fights against her, and she smiles still.
This is the Fairy-tale Princess,
The streets of Paris are lovely at night, just as they always have been
and always will be, he whispers.
I nod slowly, and halt, contemplating all the books he wrote
that I loved so dearly.
The flow, watching it shake my soul. It hurts, oh yes it hurts! Watching you sleep away, wish to hold you and call you mind, my soul wept, thy heart crushed, no future, aborted so early, merely blood was visible.
I wish I were my intestines;
they are needed by someone.
She is every organ.
Once, I ached to be her
friend, fur shed, toenails
if you wanna be a princess,
there are some things you have to know:
how to be polite,
not ask questions,
plan ahead.
sit still, ana, so that
i’m focused the
Computer not
comprehending
whether or not i
am truly thinking
about what i am
A small bottle
A brush
Heavy paper
Covered in crevices
And teeth
Pressure
It takes pressure
They say you see
someone’s soul
Through their eyes
I see their souls
In the money they
Slide into my jacket
What does it mean to be free
Is it simply to live
to breath
to be?
Why is America obsessed with being free
when we live
we breath
we're "we"
I am free
I live
Once upon a time, there was a kiss that changed the world
A lovestruck prince kissed the sleeping princess and broke the seven year curse cast upon the land
Is this the land of the free?This is not true for all,Fortunately it has for me. Other people will agreeThat prejudice can make you bawl.Is this the land of the free? Banding together is the keyFamily does nat let you fall,Fortunately it has for m
make america Great again.Make America Great Again?Was it ever Great to begin withThe United States of America Was hardly
Why change? If America is the richest and most powerful country on Earth.
Why change? If we never lost a war with another country in history.
America has been at war amongst it's self;
We the people fight each other.
Breathing in
And out
As tears cascade down
From eyes that have
Not yet seen light
Down her gentle
Features until they
Reach the cliff
Of her face and
Drop to the floor
-splash.
Grim are the days when
Grass does not whisper
And silent run streams
But no one listens
To know the difference
We are the country who
Pledges our allegiance to
A flag of
Purity
Valor
Perseverance
And justice
America the Great
It’s something you shouldn’t hate,
We look to strive
And keep record of our archives
From the Roman times
Left and right, front and back people
Stand there. Inching closer to the doors that
Slide. All for
Saving their legs. The ding
Sounds a high pictched tone. A
Sudden jolt forward, everyone ushers
I'm sorry...Yes that's how I
should start, I'm sorry
for what I've done wrong and
for what I have yet to mess up on.
I know your sensitive,
I know I can be brash,
But, I know that I love you
I can’t sleep on the fourth of July.
Not when fireworks
sound like cracked whips
and sparklers glisten
like blood under a streetlamp.
Sitting by the pool, I squinted my eyes at the torrid back yard,
my lawn chair slightly separated from the others.
My glass of iced tea sat within reach, ready to rescue an
overheated and dried out tongue.
The clock reads 1:23.
I am still, bathed in the green light
of the microwave.
My mind drifts from place to place
but my body
is stationary.
The clock reads 3:45.
history is repetitive-
mistakes are overshadowed by our illusory strength.
My country 'tis of thee
will you protect me?
Fractured Unity
unwilling to Change.
the air growing denser,
Never have I seen out country is such a state.
Each state separated by what they belive.
Instead of those beliefs bringing us together,
They split us apart.
Instead of coming together because we believe in love,
Blubbering voices cannot communicatea desired fluencysupplemented by tearsand fear of the face superimposed into clouds.
Still I keep walking
Though ahead the Future looks dark
I don’t know where I’m going from here
New friends greet me but
Cameryn, it’s not there
You are thinking too much again
Internalizing
Enfolding
Why don’t you just take break?
The crumbling walls, they fell, they fell,
With dust and clouds of smoke.
But radiant light broke through the night
And a spirit, mine, awoke.
It was hard to say for sure that day
it was anonymous, her name was never said, but i knew, my pain knew, without finishing the Message:
because We
had spoken about it before, my voice burning with love
It's all your fault.
I can't take the blame.
All I want is power; Power over you because
I am insecure.
You can't be independent, no
I can't be co-dependence because eveRYTIME I TRY
Stop
to Edinburgh castle, I’m in tran-sit.
There’s a grass mar-ket
and a little vegan shop.
All summer I discover and revisit for-mer
favorite cor-ners
of Scotland.
I live in a glass house
My only companion, silence,
As it follows me from room to room.
It has always been with me
And though I enjoy its company
Overconfident and unstructured,
Never having been pushed to my limit,
Thinking about my potential future,
And all that came with it.
On the rocks within a course in which I had it all,
A feeling, a fluttery
whimsical feeling,
shot through my jaded soul upon the
sight of the mare.
Her crème coat is sliced
and sprinkled with jagged
ribbons of scarlet,
Chilled pulp dribbles down my chin
And my hands stick together like an
Ankle length dress to my sweat drenched thighs in high humidity,
However, the miniscule struggles only increase the ecstasy in each nibble.
The great faces of Markiplier
Hi, wow, okay, bye
And second, 'dark nexus for magickal
energies'...
pulls a questionable face
Wooooaaaahhhh OOO Kaa yy (not
appreciating this bull)
Monkey noises
I’m not sure how
It happened,
only that I feel lonely
all the time.
I’m lonely
surrounded by people—acquaintances, friends, and strangers alike—
I’m lonely
Violent personalities crash against
Each other, dragging us through endless seas.
Your voice floods my drowning mind, and I tense.
Chaotic surges force you through my dreams.
And then—I came upon the jar trees.
The cut off limbs and stuck on glass.
A colourful spectrum,
About the surface area of the woodened space.
I remembered our joke.
I'll listen if you allow me to
And I'll understand if you give me the chance
I'll always be there to comfort you
Even within the times of protecting
Of which I can't
I will help you grow
pierce my skin with your
silver blade tongue
you weapon of madness
with cold metal lines
and warm red taste
pale piercing pain into
flushed bliss
soft pink clouds float
My body, numb with painless agony
Slips into the fiery waters of oblivion
My mind, filled to the brim with empty thoughts
Sinks into the abyss that is null
silent first
someone else
she was cursed
with sad days
and loneliness
quiet next
not quite herself
supporting choice
supporting freedom rights
(but are you ever
horrified?)
choosing girls
fifteen sixteen eighteen
who deserve their high school
college years
The room seems empty, if only at first;
The air,
thick with sage
burning away ghosts trapped in finely woven thread;
those which catch both dreams,
and nightmares,
those spread along hollow walls
Alarms ring, four totalBegin to peel the covers, the warmth, awayChilled feet push up the stairsDrag the boy from his dreams
The day that I met you,
I never thought I would
See a smile so BIG
On someone's face,
And I never would have thought it would be mine.
Summer nights and bonfires,
Day after day
Me that / powerful noun we / use to express the one person
Me / the one person who will listen to /
Me that / lovely word we / see as our escape to be free
Me / the kid who can see / what i need to be /
I look for comfort, slanging smiles, swallowing frowns.
My palms sweating. Heart beating. Tears sweltering.
Thoughts lingering, desperate for salvation.
Dear Morning,
O good Morning,
I could choose to write to
Sleep
and stay
asleep.
I could choose to kiss
my imagination
and cuddle
my dreams
as lovers, beautiful beings that
I can hear but you never tell me- how you feel that’s why I’m drowning- in these ashes of flames that we caused, caused to burst since we showed each other our flaws.Though we try we just fill with hatred- for the agony of the other in the other’s
On a good day:
I wake up
From a strange dream.
Desperately replaying it in my mind,
Over and over again,
So as not to forget it,
I feel Mom tickle my feet.
"Wake up!" she says.
When the brushhairs touch the smooth canvas
My abstract thoughts and feelings are no longer outlandish
My cheeks lift up pulled by beautiful happiness
As ideas come forth unridiculed by their possible wackiness
coffee stirs me
from milky dreams
raises me from sleep
steam escaping
twisted sheets
still foggy on reality
until I wrap my fingers
I want to bite down, bite down, bite down
"I'm proud of you, you did it on your own."
Bite harder.
She's still trying to suck the air from my lips
My Ars Poetica: A Different Kind of Animal
Nothing turns a stomach like the rancid aura that cradles the furry carcass of a life that once was.
Let’s focus on the little things.
Not the things that ruin us,
but the ones that define us.
Let’s start to travel.
We came, we saw, we conquered
We loved, we learned, we lived
We wrote a story for us
Alas, our time is up
This chapter is done,
but your book is far from over
Six years old and I’m standing at the edge
Of the counter, standing on a chair, my feet
Raised to the tip toes, peering into the bowl
In front of me, the wooden spoon in my hands
5 A.M.
The alarm clock goes off
like a fire alarm
waking me from my dream state.
I stumble through the labyrinth
gathering my stuff and getting dressed.
He came over
eyes livid
jaw clenched, chin forward
body stiff.
a tiger waiting to pounce
I watched
I just gave you the link to my account.
I'm hoping you don't hate me for this.
But I wouldn't blame you if you did.
To say I was hurt would be an understatement...
I do not write poetry for people.
I do not write poetry for you.
I am blessed, yes, but I sit beneath no peepul.
It is not for the “ahs” or the “oohs”
I write poetry
Not for me.
I write to free the ink,
the substance within.
The freedom it brings,
flowing freely to
the open ears of a page
always listening intently,
never interupting, only
absorbing. The way
I once saw the world in clarity,
Each vine and leaf embedded
In my jade retinas.
But in September, the mist
Was ushered into my life.
It was all in her eyes,
Eyes that showed the real her.
Through her eyes, you could see past those smiling lips.
Eyes that were loud, loud like pounding drums
Eyes that were colder than a winter night.
Contaminated in desperation,
my heart longs for your voice to heal its wounds.
Though weary, my mind seeks restoration.
My soul awaits on words to make it swoon.
I am sinking.
I am sinking,
and I can't remember -
where I started
or why I am here?
The azure Sky,
the open Sky Open.
I scent the Earth in myself . . .
I am sinking.
What I am allowed to say,
what society says is okay,I care not for it, but I write it anyways,
because that’s one of the things
they say is alright to write.
Many people try to put art on a pedestal,
They mount it on a rest
Saying, "Shakespeare was the best,"
Or , "I (insert cute heart sticker here) Socrates,"
However, both men are no longer in the land of the living!
they say we're voting
in a dem-
-ocracy but what's
democratic about
choosing a pres-
-ident from two
candidates we
hate almost equally?
Not even God's favorite Angels fly parallel to He
For there is always a higher omnipresence
A benevolent companion to admire from below
If I didn't believe in tomorrowI wouldn't have a today,or even a yesterdayto speak of.That's
Blink,
and the delicate parachutes whistling
with white-spun dandelion seeds drift to
form the rich parchment of
my thoughts,
channeled
Something is fundamentally wrong.
Unless his blue eyes were created only to look
Downward,
At a ground that can hardly support their murky weight.
The tent was in the trunk
next to the air mattress;
the blankets covered the back seats.
It might be a tight squeeze in the small tent,
but that wasn’t our focus
I hold you in my arms
Close to my heart because
I need you.
I hold you tight with my
Hands because I want you
To stay.
I have you fooled.
You can do this,
It’ll be okay,
It’ll work out,
Just more lies through my teeth.
I’m a foe disguised as a friend,
God, I hate you.I hate how you deleted me only when you found someone elseand I hate how your friends say the same things about her.I hate how you use the same goddamn places,our memories, and our pick-up phrases,
Conflicted by the pressures of the world,
unable to understand what to do,
this generation is unable to recognize
the power of Knowledge.
Instead what this generation possesses
they say that all dust
is old dust.
that the dirt on my Nikes
once mingled with the petulant British
sand under Caesar’s feet.
by this logic--
Catching my own reflection
from the waters beside the boat,
I recoil in consternation
at the expression that I tote.
I recall the dull echoes
of the things I used to do,
No gods, no mastershere. From none according toability tonone based on need. Free at last.Who could survive without hope?
Floating toward the center of the sea
bathing suit wrapped tight around me
where else would I be
if not here
then somewhere on the shore
feeling the waves rise over my feet.
Without a bathing suit
Love, how vastly divine you are!
The light of your presence
Creates a happy heart within me
How could we ever fret
When we have you in our lives?
Even the most intense thought of destruction and hate
love has fixed its gentle tooth in me
love has loosened arrows to rain
love has patched my crumbling foundation of fears
love has abandoned me
You cannot see or feel it.
A farmer to his garden, he needs it.
Admiration and adoration to each stem.
Materialistic ideals, genuine ideals, manipulated, by
materialistic ideals.
Art;
the (blood rushing through
my veins, painting me with color in this
gray, flavorless world)
ability to
take your brok-
en, s e n s e l e s s,
s
c
a
It's a new world we live in with hover boards and guns
and bloodshed everyday
with people looking down at the ground instead of looking
up and seeing the sky
but that's ok
Desert Island Life
Only one thing is needed
(besides food and drink)
Netflix is my love
I cannot live without it
Netflix is my life
If there are'nt people,
The frosty gale glided through my thin fleece,
Rattled the bones underneath, yet failing to
Dampen the blaze that burned within beneath
its marrow; like snow, to catch them I flew;
Master, I wonder
why do you beat me so.
What have I done to deserve this
pain.
Is it because my name is Pitbull
As bright as the stars are they never compare
To the bright white light surrounding your life.
I have watched this light permeate the air.
Please realize I am not the only strife.
With silver venom flowing from his torn lips
That suggested he might do the same
He told me his mother had died of lung cancer
Yet before I could question the lit cigarette
What is the one thing I cannot live without?
There are so many to choose.
Family, food, writing,
Sight, touch, taste, hearing,
Music, movies, books,
Words, imagination and more.
I'm stranded
I don't know when I'm getting home
But I know I have my mirror
My mirror to hold close to my home
So now my home is my face
All I need in life
is the forest.
The mosses,
the rich brown earth,
the sounds of birds,
water rushing,
otters swimming,
life in the wild
happening in front of my eyes.
If only we could drift
away,
bind hands and finally
say,
"this is our lives, who could take it away
from us?"
"Who took it from you?"
no answer.
no response.
Economics is the study of choice.
When partaking in economics,
one of the main problems is sustaining the wants and needs of a society.
Because we face the problem of scarcity,
Friday—a day that every kid looks forward to because it is the beginning of the weekend
Most kids are excited because it means they can do whatever they want
Dear First Love,
I was so scared
of messing everything up
that I ruined it all anyway.
You were so good to me,
but I didn’t treat you
the same,
and I missed my chance.
Dear First Crush,
I dreamt about you once.
I was there and of course
you were there, and
we live out our entire lives
while I slept.
In reality,
my dream came true
Hope?
No, it's not that.
Not at all.
All I need to live
Is that single reason.
The "why" to my ways
The cause that I write for
The explanation of
My fighting through this life...
I stroll through a grove of ancient oaks,
Hovering down a path immersed in shade.
A clearing now, the blinding p e r f o r a t i o n s of light strike.
Between these walls, within these walls
As each step falls, we leave with out pasts.
No one will remember our ended Decembers
Or those blue, cold embers as we breath the last
There is a beast inside me.
Every time I open my mouth it tries to escape
but I close my eyes and swallow hard
and it is forced to stay.
It screeches, it screams, it claws at my throat
The world is silent and tired,having borne the weight of a thousand restless soulsand the window pane shivers as the night drags on and I feelalmost sorrybut I can see little diamonds coruscating in the darkness,constellations dancing a story olde
I blink.
I see.
I forget.
I try to scrape images from my brain
but they are too deep to touch.
How do I remember?
How do I feel what I felt at that moment?
You.
Sitting here in my hands
Once, my friend was alive
He supported me when others left
Now he's gone.
He left to let me live;
He was alive but never real.
To truly live with what
I cannot live without
it's hard
i guess,
to explain.
it's hard to articulate.
being,, close
to the right people.
"All Special Needs kids need to burn in hell"
I laughed.
It's funny when education is wasted on people like this boy.
I laughed.
It's funny how he is so ignorant to his own flaws that are shamed deep within his mind
passion
there is a ladder reaching
up
fingers brush bottom rung
cling and sting barren
fingertips
five more steps.
Dark clouds do not creep up at night,
Instead graze our minds when the sun does shine
And the thoughts impale us with softened blades,
Though our smile rivals the daylight,
If pried and smeared away with time,
Under the fleece, I feel heat.
The warmth of the fabric enveloping me,
like the warmth of ones lover's arms.
Under the fleece, I feel secure.
The layer of protection against the brittle cold.
At the end of the roadMake a right-hand turnCheck your left sideLeaves float
The trees rush pastThe car’s windshieldThe sun is blinding youEven in fall
Outside the Window
Mountains reflect the sun setting and the colors
Changing from a deep blue to a violet
What I’d Like to Eat
A waiter carries out a decadent brownie sundae
There's a formula
for everything these days,
and I can prove more
things than I can understand,
And I can fact check
the stars, number the sand,
I am
large backyards, clotheslines, and rocking chairs on the
front porch.
T-shirts and blue jeans.
I am the magnolia tree at
Grandma’s,
the one we played under as children.
I am
I wield a fist that has shattered glass, leaving in its wake
Shards strewn across the crimson splatter
lining the sink where I weep
sinking,
sinking,
sinking down into
A rock may weather
tough as nails
be eroded by time -
wouldn’t hear a train passing
being skipped
A girl stood clear unsure of what to become
she was quiet but friendly
honest but sensitive
positive and brave
with an ability to be open
Where will my world go?
I watch its framework fall,
but know not where it lands.
The vessel of wood carried my life upon it.
I am soft.
I am loved and coddled by a mother and a father,
who say I am the center of their world.
I am adored by all
that I have made grandparents for the first time.
Little girl
Pink tutus and ribbons
Pretty lace
Perfect routine
Big day
Butterflies release in my tummy
Bright lights
Ribbon hits the floor
Disaster
A gallery of accomplishment is on display:
The boy sits still, waiting
On someone to see his good work
People look, and pay their compliments,
But no one sees that the words on the page,
I will not be placed
Into some neat little box.
I will not fit.
I am not conventional,
I will not go along with the flow,
Biting my tongue and silencing my views.
I am the girl you were warned about.
The girl built from fire and stone―
The girl who swallows the stars and extinguishes the sun―
My hands fell on morning
Hard leather, cigarettes
Tint midnight memories.
Smoldering red sun snuck
Up on me. Heartbroken
Mother draped in her gown
Waves me off. From my home
Look Around You
On a cart full of lost minds
On the track
What used to be defined as communication is now
A flick fo the thumb
Rather than tell me yourself
Nah, the black and white text got me
A year in and it still feels fresh
yet smells like last fall's rain.
The grass is cut the same but new
feet treck across the green carpet.
Familiar faces line pathways
weaving between brick buildings.
I am not weak.
{I won’t deny my flaws and insecurities.
I’ve been bruised and broken in places,
used and abused and pushed aside and wasted,
disregarded and shamed,
manipulated and blamed,
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Joy.
Every day,
A great smile lights up my face.
I love to brighten someone’s day
With little things.
A smile,
A hug,
A “Hello” or “How are you?”
Sometimes…
"Comete todos tus vegetales," my mother would tell me
As I sat, after school, at our small dinner table
in our small dining room
In our small, two bedroom, one bathroom house.
I decided the morning that my grandfather died
that that was the last time I would breathe the same air
as my mother. She had promised time and time again
I am not who I believed I would someday become.
By this age, I was supposed to be a princess
or an astronaut
or a bull rider.
Instead I am head of the rocket club
and am having one dream
The rain in the back of my head comes from
The pain that festers in my heart.
My disdain towards myself makes me bleed more
Then a stab to artery and vein. I bleed
How does one stay the guilt of being
a burden willingly taken?
The mind kept by others is weary of dreaming.
Innocence was the age of knowing
nothing once in shadow Awareness cannot awaken.
I am the Magpie.
When Winter came, I flew South;
“It’s warmer there,” they said.
Will I ever see my home again?
When Winter came, I flew South,
But I will return home in the Spring.
You can't suffocate me
'Cause I will inhale more than you know
Keep trying to pacify
And feed the demon inside
The hunger and lust exist
For a reason beyond the truth
Through years of sorrow and so much pain
I thought I’d never see the day
When everything changed
Once upon a time,
the invention of happiness came about.
It washed over my world like a shower
and I discovered I really had no reason to pout.
Welcome to Rebekkah-stan
I
The body and the soul, they act as one.
A tandem vehicle for change to come.
While life on Earth's unbearable for some,
Darkness.
Never ending darkness.
I close my eyes and feel the silence.
A rumbling on the horizon.
Thin and harmless claps of thunder
You calculate the total cost of all the expenses of this trip as your plane launches into the sky
$50 because your suitcase was 8lbs over weight
Another $50 for the Nike’s you bought for yourself
he hands of Time seem at rest,
but with a simple, steady beat they move
toward an eternity unknown
to the world.
Write when you are empty.
Spend your days
burying your thoughts in print,
allowing the words to take you deeper
than your feet could ever wander.
Write of the rains of November,
of bruised sunsets,
Each step taken is another place moved.
Each word spoken is another breath breathed.
Each speech given is another passion found.
Each song played is another love created.
In the face of despair
One would feel the need to give in
When I look at you,
I see desparation
When I peer in the mirror,
I see a reflection of you and me.
The world seems cruel
The quill slides over
and into the inkwell
the battle 'gainst evil begins
then promptly the clash
of the two sided sword
rings louder with the side that wins.
a story, a plotline
Sometimes it rains on my face
a lot
those salty raindrops you know?
I wish I can make the stop
but the more I want to, the more they fall.
I feel like I’m being strangled
Great orchids bloomAgainst the humid, foggy gloom,Seedlings eat the deadAnd on my skin rolls angry redAs army ants crush my bonesMarching over my heaving tombstone;And I rot six feet underneath
In my old best friend's bedroom
drunk and stoned out of my head
I keep lighting myself on fire
again and again in her bed.
Every time, it burns
and every time, I scream
but once it's out, I light it again
We are but lonely gods;
Divine primary partners In creation
Stumbling in vain for
Ephemeral sleep in starlight.
Speaking in soft slumber
Of our most noble pride,
The faint smell
Of tobacco. That hated smell,
Forever fused into
Skin, sheets and Mind.
Last night,
Every flashing light
Every piercing shriek
Every bass note from the
The snow dances down
Like prima ballerinas,
Floating and flitting.
It lands with not one small sound,
A lull, then orchestra swells.
As expected, an
apple falls from Life's tree. So
do all its neighbors.
Yet one could obliterate
conformity; you.
The world will try to
poison vulnerable lives.
But His staff leads home
The leaves fall as I walk under the trees,
My eyes crinkling against the crisp, cool breeze.
I pause, and time seems to stand still,
As I become hypnotized by the fiery leaves, until
Pardon me if I regret this
Father, these are my confessions
I'm selfish, reckless, and restless
Pleas fall on deaf ears from friends that once were mine
I suppose that's just how time flies
He didn’t do it, remember?
The light hit the face at that
Crooked, something-degree angle and
Scattered like roaches.
His brow twisted, lips curled
Downwards and furled.
No man falls like that.
Light went out and like a roach
Boy hid,
Long wait, short wait,
Two-tone clock ticking ‘till
Good ‘ol Mr. Sunshine flashed his pearly whites
And kissed the ground into shadows
I am so much skin
I am freckle, scar, and vein
The bones tap like piano keys
But the song should stay unsung
Shame, reverse time and take back
What you gave to me
The Crowd surges forward as one
tidal mass of flesh compressing
itself against a steel barricade.
In the front row I am happy,happily
It rains softly tonight
As I stare out my window
The tiny droplets streaking across the pane
I often wonder why the skies cry tonight
Perhaps in mourning of its Dark Mistress
Here’s to you for tearing me down.
I can’t believe I ever wondered
If this is the end.
It’s like there’s no room to breathe.
The light dissipates as we’re plundered.
So, we sit
We wait
What now?
The smooth, seductive sound
Of the blues swim around us
The intoxicating moods that shift all around
I look at you
You look at me
The day I see you
is the day I find myself.
Every day, I look outside the window
and see what appears to be
never seems to be
what I want to see.
Just today, I see you walking
No justice, no peace.
No justice
for the deceased.
The system continues to cheat
Latinos and Blacks.
It’s just like back
in the 50s.
The only difference,
you’re sitting with me.
I hide where everyone can see
But the harsh lights blind them
And I would hope I do too.
Glittering.
Who is she?
I hide at center stage
Where the words that couldn’t
Wouldn’t
I am the product of my Father’s hand,
a creation of God,
knit carefully into a man.
I am the effect of love and nurture,
a home that cares and builds and corrects.
I am the aftermath of disaster, of learning
Notes.
Not like the ones
made of trees.
Floats.
across the air,
through the keys.
Jazz Pianists' fingers tell no lies,
traveling through the
White and Black Sky.
That perfect caption -
it's all I need to say.
It tells the world what I'm doing,
where I'm at,
when I'll be away.
That corresponding picture
(damn I look so fine!)
They say that I have problems:
Schizophrenia and such.
There’s a lot more, but
I don’t understand very much.
Am I crazy?
I can’t possibly be!
There isn’t anything
Wrong with me.
I felt comfortable, still, and ready
While I sat with my mind set and steady.
With their infinite wisdom of the universe,
They came down to our planet surely knowing how ignorantly intelligent we are,
Started to see how we were not very diverse
But for how we conduct business in bazaars.
I feel most alive on the US-15 with my mother, my father, and my puppy.
Well: who am I, put honestly?
Without facade, I seem to be
A borderline dichotomy
Between two frames of mind.
At first, I show my artistry:
An optimist's philosophy
Where I eschew gentility -
Me Myself & I
The joking one,
The one who laughs at everything,
The one who is outgoing, cheerful.
What is beneath all those smiles?
Is that a tear I see?
I walk, sometimes,
down the ageing pavement.
Quick steps, cat-like,
but I'm no sly cat.
I laugh, sometimes.
It could be said that I purr.
Maybe it sounds warm to you,
To you,
I am just a pale face
Tired and exhausted
I lack something that you want.
And to you,
That is perfection.
I am more than just this filter
Of beauty so fake.
I am a person.
Cold concrete brings ache to his body—unforgiving
Drops pour through a window onto his tired back
Yearning for freedom, he begs for the light of the moon,
Trapped in this nightmare, the pain will not fade.
I Am...Who am I?
Who am I?
I am x-
An unknown, never constant, and always drifting.
I hear a rumor
Passing in the wind
I move closer to hear.
The rumor is about me.
Yet again another individual
Caught in a web of lies
That makes others happy.
i wake in the morning,
having no warning,
of how i would be looked at
like i have on a funny hat.
i walk through the halls
with no fear at all
knowing that who i am
Sometimes I wonder
What would it be like
If the world were different
Sometimes I wonder
How many people
Are killed and hurt
Sometimes I wonder
What would it take
For when I enter the
Lighted room, I cannot fathom being in
Another place
With so many faces
Staring in my eyes.
A
Realization comes over me and I think:
I look at you with my hidden eyes
Your smile lights up the world
Blue, green, and gray crystals
In my heart, butterflies twirled
I did not see it coming
At first mere acquaintances
All my life they’ve taught me to be clean,
Wash my hands while singing the ABCs.
But what if I really like dirt?
Sorry but I swear it won’t hurt!
Nice shoes cramping my style,
Some people appear to be "flawed"
but you don't see what their life has been like;
You don't see their pain, or their strugge, or their loss
Living that 32 GB lifestyle,
posed photos taking up my space.
Out to dinner? Let’s take a pic…
They all look the same
Family, friends, or coworkers hopping in the shot
I don’t know which of my parents promised you a “polite young lady” for a granddaughter,
but you should probably ask for a refund.
Because I remember, seven years old, Thanksgiving dinner,
It's who I am.
I've always been tall.
And no, I don't play basketball or volleyball.
I am constantly stranded in a sea of small and world of petite.
Yes, my feet are large, but imagine if I had small feet.
Beneath my skin there is an entireunexplored cosmosthat replenishes itself withlike the cells that make up my body,it is filled with innumerable,splendid celestial bodies
Tonight existed an icy one,
nothing occurred truly stature absent;
we clashed at the crowning of the peek
witnessing for the yesterday's mantle
without a real sense of direction.
If the flames burn auburn in the chill of the night
Patient rests my soul, for the eve of first light
Notice not I, the cold that endures
But wait for the sun whose golden glow assures
Flaws:
They make us
We're flawed beings with perfect streaks.
Flaws:
They break us
We're flawed beings with colorful stripes.
Flaws:
They're your weakness
Your downfall
Dedicated to a dear friend named Sandra Hong, whose life was tragically lost and taken away from us too soon in October 2013.
No, I did not just wake up like this,
I was created and I was born like this.
I'm perfectly imperfect.
Not caring what the others do,
Its up to me, all that I do,
Sitting in the pale,
lack of reminiscent memory covered bed sheets,
of a musty condemned motel,
lying on the outskirts of Ureka, Nevada.
Four eyes and two hallowed bodies
Scrutiny. That's the world I would use to embody a mirror.
Not vanity, or beauty, or even reflection. But scrutiny.
No, I am afraid you’re wrong.
I am words
And lyrics
I am “tell me that I am everything you need.”
No, I am not silence.
I am tears and laughs
I had my head beneath the water
I was about to take a breath
To let the quick intake of dark liquid
cleanse me with death
Life and its troubles are changing
with each passing day
the world’s Pain is severe and unending
and can lead the strongest-willed astray
But a bigger part of the soul,
They call us all the selfie generation,
encourage confidence just to shame it.
They airbrush out flaws and blemishes
and say we're all beautiful regardless.
They give us mixed signals about all this,
I hide behind filters just to fit in and not look lame,
But this is not me, I am never the same,
Rather, it is a blank screen with a vintage frame,
I know it will not win me a ticket to fame,
Sometimes I wonder about our generation
How will we fit in with the larger population?
We go through our days hoping to be distracted
And we dont stop and think about the way we acted
I speak in undulations to you- formless master (nourishment has no price except existence)
“Just one more”
One more selfie after 95 others
Only one more attempt to find their “good side”
With another filter, another caption, another expression
Glimmers shimmer down the dimly lit halls
As I strut, Fully erected
Slightly grinning at my magnificence
Not a spec lie on my clothes-
Every inch of my being beams with a different persistence
Without a flaw
Perfect skin
Perfect body
Perfect hair
It's a
girl.
We have impossible standards
For each other and ourselves.
It's not fair
She awoke in the dark, with the moon in her eyes.
She'd taken a chance; she'd been foiled by king's spies.
The mind is an
amazing,
strange,
horrifying
Little place.
Or so I’ve been told.
Since all we know is in relation,
It's hard to know true perfection, although
we must know
that we have two things in us.
A famous line from a movie onced went something like "You can't handle the truth".
If I were to tell you the truth,
it'd have to be from a telephone booth.
Somewhere where I couldn't see your face
My friends’ minds do not blush at their ignorance,
My friends’ ears do not turn red
Instead, their flesh molts as a dead thing’s does.
From purple to blue
From blue to black
From disused to diminished
No one considers acting a real occupation,
But we are all modern thespians.
From a young age, we’re taught emotions to use as masks for everything:
Happy in public,
Stoic in times of danger,
Girls.
Overpriced makeup. It
Differentiates those who want to be from those who... Are?
I remember how the shackles fit
since I was three years old
and noticed that my brother had cars
and I had an apron lined with
silver bars, they trapped my dreams
they hid my screams under a noxious smell
Who do I say,
Do I say that I am?
What am I now,
Am I now that I was?
When will it be,
Will it be truly me?
Where does this end,
Does this end with a dream?
Oceans rolled,
i do not want to be the girl that makes you forgetyour nights filled with loathing and apathyor that pushes the thoughtof suicide from your cluttered closet of a mindi want to be the girl that makes you remember
African -
I am an over one-thousand-year old toil
Basking under the golden sun
From which those northerners recoil;
Through savanna, through jungle, through desert I run.
Long before they gave me a fork
The fact is I am HUMAN.
I make mistakes
Those mistakes prevent me from
Continuing my life,
Where do I begin?
And Where do I end?
Time goes against me,
But life always goes on,
Flawless? What? Who, me?
Not in a million years.
What in this world can I do perfect?
In what do I have no fears?
Fashion? Hah! I think I choked.
My hair has its own free will.
I am inherently by birth a flawed creature
I was born from the earth with my mother's heart and my father's features
Raised in the darkness just as a lotus would drive forth from the dirt to the heavens above
I never was the girl who had it all
Hell, I was the one who had nothing at all.
But here I am,
I stand before you
proud and tall.
No money nor connections,
just sheer ambition
Why am I so amazing?
I got blood through my veins
and oxygen through my lungs.
Yeah my body performs so many miracles.
Plus even then
I have the capacity to form
emotions and a
You're dropping "I'm sorry" like I'm still around.I don't care how you feel. I don't care about your excuses.You took for granted all the times I never let you down.
Every person is just another risk.Recyclable, used, stomped on all in the name of insincere apology.Thrown in the unwanted corner, waiting for someone to care.
I was the ice you stood on,
a cold sheet to crack and go beyond the surface of.
I was afraid you would fall,
but you could walk without sliding,
getting traction with every step.
I liked your sorcery.
The only thing that seems
to hold me back at times
is syntax in my sentences,
and error in my rhymes
I fear the judging eyes of others
the rhidicule of mothers
Remind me why we can’t try this again.Now that we know what’s at stake,we won’t make the same mistakesand if we do, we’re done for good, the end.But at least we’ll know what could have been
I can rhyme words without a rhythmbut as soon as I try, I lose the feeling.So I’ve learned to let them flow,let ‘em rolloff my tongue - or in this case my pen -
Do or die, fail or try;either way, you don’t have a choiceunless you want to live life with a voicesilenced by others who would rather live in fearthan open up their minds and hearts to hear
Speaking for others has never been my style,but I promise you this will be worth your while.
This stress triggers my anxietybecause I can’t handle you being mad at mefor any reason. It makes me nervous.I think, "Do I really deserve this?"or is my mind just ten steps ahead of reality?
They're getting deeper and I don't know what to do
it's as if each little line becomes bottemless and cavernous as it grows more and more every day
I've been so strong all this time
The numbness is pervasive like smoke. It is fast moving silk. Sensual. Smooth.
And I chase memories. Ones I'm not sure I'd like to catch.
Voices matter.
Without a voice, Hitler wouldn't have taught us the power of speech.
Without a voice, Martin Luther King Jr. wouldn't have taught us dreams can be reached.
Soldiers Live and wonder why
They've seen their brothers fall and die
They've heard their hero's final cry
Soldiers live and wonder why
I’m not too good at this, letting you hear
How much I do care and it fills me with fear.
My belov’d words fail, I don’t know what to say,
But my heart and my eyes scream “Don’t go! Please Stay.”
