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"[BLACK] PARENTS VS. MENTAL ILLNESS"

[BLACK] PARENTS THINK JUST BECAUSE YOU
DONT PAY BILLS THAT YOU SHOULDNT BE STRESSED..
OR UPSET, SUICIDAL, OR EVEN DEPRESSED....
BUT MOM,
LISTEN,
THATS NOT THE CASE.
IVE BEEN GETTING BULLIED SINCE 
ELEMENTARY SCHOOL,
WISHING I COULD DIE SINCE THEN, TOO.
WRITING SUICIDE NOTES SINCE I KNEW
WHAT THEY WERE,
AND DEPRESSED FOR AS LONG AS I KNEW
WHAT IT MEANT.
AND NO,
I HAVENT PAID A BILL BEFORE.
I USED TO CUT,
STOPPED,
AND THEN PICKED UP THE HABIT, AGAIN.
I USED TO TAKE A PALM FULL OF SLEEPING 
PILLS TO GET A SIMPLE NIGHTS REST.
I THOUGHT THAT IF I GOT A JOB, 
MAYBE THESE DEMONS WOULD DISAPPEAR.
MAYBE THESE INSECURITIES WOULD AS 
WELL,
BUT NOPE,
THATS NOT THE CASE.
I WAS STILL DEPRESSED,
JUST WITH FATTER POCKETS.
SEE, 
MY MOM COULDNT SEE THAT HURT IN MY
EYES,
SHE COULDNT HEAR MY CRIES OUT FOR 
HELP.
NOT BECAUSE SHE WAS SO BUSY "PAYING 
BILLS",
BUT BECAUSE SHE WASNT LISTENING.
WHEN YOURE A MINOR IN A BLACK 
HOUSEHOLD,
OPINIONS DONT MATTER,
FEELINGS ARENT IMPORTANT,
AND DEPRESSION DOESNT EXIST.
SO TO HER, AND MY SISTER,
I WAS JUST THE ODD ONE OUT.
JUST A LONER,
A SELFISH,
LAZY TEEN 
WITHOUT A FUTURE,
BUT LITTLE DID THEY KNOW
THAT I WAS FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE.
FIGHTING-
SO THAT MY DEMONS WOULDNT WIN.
BECAUSE I KNOW THAT IF THEY DID WIN,
ID GET NO CLOSURE,
ID JUST BE THE WORTHLESS FUCK THEY
THOUGHT ME OUT TO BE.
IM DETERMINED TO STAY HERE,
SO I CAN "PAY MY BILLS",
but when i do, 
my kids feelings 
wont be ignored,
because i know that 
theres more to life
than just 
"paying bills".

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

Comments

Poetry is Music

I wake up, hit play and start.
Listening to what I hear is art.
I jump and dance and sing along,
I'm not sure what it is about this song.
Is it the amazing chord progression or melody?
No, it's the words, that's the key.
I pause, sit down and write.
Listening to these role models keeps me going through the night.
These words that I memorize are more than they appear,
They're poetry that is the most pleasant to the ear.
I want to be like them, I want to write songs.
I want to know that someone out there is singing along.
Poetry is music, above all else.
It gives me emotion, and to it, I give myself.

Comments

Fly

Locations

53142
United States
42° 34' 24.6864" N, 87° 51' 18.72" W
See map: Google Maps
53142
United States
42° 34' 24.6864" N, 87° 51' 18.72" W
See map: Google Maps
I don't know what to say. 
 
I'd love to be that one that doesn't walk away
But I'm afraid that it's in my blood;
These scars prove that it's a part of who I am
Like I'm a dumb lamb with a brand on my wrist
Of that one camp that never tried to find it's land. 
 
I'd love to be that one that can really say forever
And mean it; for the-end-of-my-days ever. 
But I don't think that's the ever he meant
When he married my mother;
No, that ever had an 'n'. 
 
I'd love to be that one that refuses to leave
But I don't even think that's his belief
Because I still feel apart of that branch,
Even though this leaf has fallen,
And it's been stomped on, hopped on, forgotten on,
Just to hear the crunch. 
Was it that satisfying?
To hear my voice crack with every step?
Your words were leather soled business shoes,
Too busy to realize your own blood's
Tears from the fears you taught her,
Like now how mirrors scare her when they stare at her,
Because this blood is tainted and painted red,
Not real blood but rather injected, infused, reused, infected
Like the words that injected into an infected me. 
 
Because you have me right on that 'X',
Don't you?
With one flick of the wrist; step. 
And as soon as I get back up and stand on my feet,
There's another twist of the wrist; crunch. 
You would think your wrist would grow weary
But it doesn't, unlike me. 
So I lay there bloodied and burdened
But I still crawl to my feet,
Because what else is there?
 
Giving up?
 
That would mean leaving, 
And that's one thing I can control. 
One thing I will never do. 
Because that's one never that's never wrong. 
 
With every crunch and break within me,
There must be a crunch and break within you as well. 
You fed me, dressed me, led me, and left me. 
But you were never really gone, were you?
Because there's a bit of you in me and me in you. 
We grew together, bloomed together, flew together, 
and fell together. 
 
But I think it's time to be cut off from this branch, 
Because this leaf is ready to fly with the birds, 
To wherever the wind may lead it. 
In our eyes, it's meaningless,
But in His eyes, it's trust;
The true forever. 
 

Comments

C.R.E.A.M

Location

cats are god

cats rule all

cats conquer hearts

cats are the internet

cats on shirts

cats on posters

cats allow no escape

cats rule everything around me

 

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Set apart

Set apart

 

1 Thessalonians 5:23 

23 Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you completely; 

and may your whole spirit, soul, and body be preserved blameless 

at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.

 

Set apart by Jesus in the place far from forlorn.

Still I have the tendency to return to the place I know.

The world that I knew so well has a gravity of its own.

It pulls and tugs through my mind and won’t let go.

 

Even when my Lord holds me tightly to Himself

I wiggle, turn and bellyache for Him to put me down.

I promise not to touch anything that’s sitting on a shelf.

I’ll be good I’ll promise as my feet touch the ground.

 

He just stands and looks at me while I wave my hand.

I won’t go far I promise as He just smiles at me.

As I turn the corner and on my own I stand,

My mind starts takes over ... now I think it be free.

 

Jan Wienen

This poem is about: 
Me
My community

Comments

Unbreakable

Fri, 08/19/2016 - 19:27 -- Vmjiron

I keep my head held high

To show the boy who sexually harassed me

I am STRONG

To show the boys who thought it was exceptable

I am Confident

To show the school who failed to punish him

I am Not Worthless

To show everyone

I am Unbreakable

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Bullying
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 
Repetition

Comments

Birds Caught in the Dark

Where do the birds go to escape the cold, but also not to be in the spotlight of the sun? Where are the birds that are afraid to fly because they have fallen so many times but they get back up and try again because they know there is so much more beyond their nest? Where are the birds that sing unbelievably loud, but go silent when they hear something else's voice? I found out where the birds decide to go. They fly up to what they hope to be the safest brown tree that has the roughest yet strongest bark. They wait inside the hollowest part of the tree hoping whatever they were trying to leave behind won't follow them. They will wait until nightfall to finally come out and stay perched on top of the nearly broken branch hoping it would break so they have another excuse to fly away, but also wishing it wouldn't so they could stay put where they are safe. They try to take another step but for whatever reason as it always happens that branch snaps, and because of the size of the bird's body but because it has let so many burdens and regrets lay on its shoulders the branch can no longer hold it. It flaps it wings exhausted from flying but decides to keep going believing that it could spot something better beyond the nightfall. Now people say that that weird feeling you get in your stomach is called butterflies so why do I feel the birds instead?  

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

Comments

RAG DOLL

Rag doll'

How are you feeling my dear? 
you look so peal 
you look like hell 
The day has had its way with both of us
you don't do as I command
so get get full punishment 
oh, I've gone out of my way to make you stay
you will never be free of me 
you think you feel the pains of me 
Oh, grad doll you haven't seen nothing yet 
I cry out why do you make me feel like this
pain I'm feeling as I am going to die 
I was a fool to think someday you could ever love me
and just maybe you would come around
and see the pain you are putting me in 
but that is what you love 
I'm not thinking that about you 
I don't want to ever be like you 
Because you see at one time I loved you 
but now I see you are not what you seem
You are my mystery to me
Sometimes I just want to scream
but that would do me no good 
I am your rag doll you like to play with
I think you should just go away
please take your hands off of me 
I don't want your nasty kisses 
you are drunk and mean 
There's no necessity for you to stay 
please just go away 
next time you come around my way
forget it I don't want to play
then you slapped me on my face 
just to see me cry
then you tell me your sorry 
you don't want to fight 
then you promise tomorrow will be better 
just wait and see then he puts me back into his be

Poetic Lilly Emery (c) 

Comments

In Time Of Love

some day you'll feel the power of love catching feelings the visions like
a thousand doves
flying free 100 mph
into the wind
love game is strong
when's she's with me she knows were she belong's
tie the knot and marry
the love we have is for eternity forever life-long
the journey prevails
taking a trip through
a portal of time
love is the feeling
of the 4th kind
rhythm of love happens
when two souls combined
we are fused together
give eachother pleasure
I'll be with with you forever
even in the stormy weather
you be the student
I'll be the professor
in the science lab
ending the semester
you gazed in my eyes
with the cutest jester
our life is a movie
were our own directors
shes dreams of the plot
I infuse the storyline
we both reach the climax
feel love for the first time
we're falling in love we
film our actions
our love is pure
no fatal attraction
end to our life movie
with satisfaction
resolution comes an end
but our life's are for eternity , living, laughing, loving life over & over their is no end

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

What I Think of Poetry

Poetry, a three syllable word

It has a meaning to it, but 

not just any old meaning. 

A deep meaning. An infinate meaning. 

Poetry is the power to express yourself through words,

to tell a short story

or is it to make a statement, to express love?

Poetry has many meanings. 

Does poetry come from the heart, the mind, the soul?

Or does it come from life?

Can it come from pain.

Can it come from love.

It can come from any and everywhere. 

I think poetry is

Powerful

Outstanding

Enchanting

Tantilizing

Revealing

Yearning

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