Perception
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Stark white beaches contrasting glasslike water enchants;
drawing many souls close, so close they are engulfed in it.
Hopelessly consumed selfishly by the veneer opting to idle
# Shine Your Light
We are not meant for shadows' cage—
Each soul, a lantern, on life's stage,
Burning bright against the night,
Breaking chains with inner light.
Art is the portal to heaven or hell
A colorful perception of bliss or horror
Waiting to be narrated or manifested
I yearn for how life loves to love
On the bridge of experience
Every fine day blooming by the tick
Narrow hallways in morning
Where the sun wont come through
I laid cramped on the floor through the night, painted blue
Early sky with no warmth
Like a push, but not forth
Dragged behind my shortcomings
A moment gives life
Twists us to pain
Grants us reward
Redemption
A moment strips us of dreams not yet had
And sure enough we can all fall in collective defeat
My days are the yearning kind
Desiring for what only God can provide
Looking elsewhere for what can only be found inside
Luke 17:21 set of mind
People with phantasm,
Castigating and nitpicking over tiny details,
Not judging the verity of the status quo
Are those who don't see the truth.
For Some It Seems Perception ... LEANS ...
Toward THOSE Dreams of ... " FANTASIES " ...
Tears of joy in a rain of hearts.
Clouds spread across the wall with flames engulfed by a passive wave.
In this day I found my pain,
My freedom,
And my closure.
The Fighting NEVER Stops,
And In The End The Battle Is Lost.
I See Pain In Many Eyes,
The Reason Is Simply The LIES.
Many Promises Made Token,
Are Soon To Be COMPLETELY Broken.
Without my glasses on, the world softens at about 10 feet.
Usually it feels Constricting, Confining, Claustophobic,
But today, it is my happy tent of reality.
Hearing my secrets
That's still only a small part of me
You don't comprehend how much life's taken a toll on me
But I'm good I'm great
Hearts pumping no mistake
I can't show you what I've been thru, I can only show you what I look like. I can't show you what its like to be me, I can only show you what I like. I can only show you.
dear Perception,
while human life is ephemeral,
art transcends all time
its everlasting infinitude,
exceeding the constraints of the hour hand…
The letters that he wrote me are from a
ripped out pages of his notebook.
The edges are not jagged ,
they are soft like flower petals.
Maybe you only call my eyes
Beautiful
She waves me on,
Preoccupied, as she always is,
By a diamond mirage
And a ruby facade.
I begin to speak,
But what am I to a Queen?
She has built this castle
A loose grip on a wheel
Used to guide a machine
A titan fist drives an upheaval
of frustration into a raveen
Cultural Pride is like picking sides
Its hard to get out of it
It will get around you
I feel ocean air when I'm landlocked,
Passed through every obstacle and roadblock,
There's dirt under my shoes, but it sure feels like sand,
I've taken the scenic route, but I'm just where I planned,
It's easier to fool yourself than face reality.
People bash on society to hide the truth.
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder"
It's a bunch of bullshit
Infatuation simply made you appear as a personification of love. Maybe it was your skin. How lovely it was to touch your very being.How incredibly fixated I was at the feeling of my fingertips simply caressing your very presence.It was as if I we
In the dark you see light -
I see the flames.
That's not the Sun burning -
This heat has no name.
The kitchen's on fire,
so I run out the door.
You stop in the middle
Lids yawn to consciousness and
Awaken, blind to the
Mysteries of 6 am and the
Shapes and colors dance like the
Creatures of last night’s dreams until
Lazy lenses work toward order,
Paint me perfect on your wall.
Deep wine lips, erase the flaw.
Pearly white teeth that I have always hidden.
You’ll see a smile I view as forbidden.
I'm not sure I like my reflection;He looks at me funny.There's something in his eyesThat boasts he knows me too well.And I just don't trust him-I think my secrets he might tell.
I want to be happy even if it is just for a short amount of time.Is it bad that I just want love for love, or is it a crime?All around me I see relationships turning to stone.
Ugly
as the mirror fragments sealed.in a mask upon my face
No, Ugly
Like the shattered remains of a broken moon admist a nighttime eclipse
No more
No, Ugly
The cannons resound.Their deafening ringing smothers my voiceSilences my questioning thoughtsLeaves only the orders I was given.
I am a deep thinker
Of the living
Of the dead
Of the happening
Of the unseen
Of the omnipresence
Of the reasons
Of beings that be, become, and then no longer
I am not I think I am...
I think I am small.
I think I am inadequate.
I think I am less than.
I am more than what U think I am...
U think I am a burden
I am but a mere quirk in the face of billions, shifting my way down on a path that shall leave me dispersed.
Times have shaped the outline of my brain, leaving me so estranged from the me of the past,
Through the glass I look
Searching for some answer
Faces slanted into an opaque distortion
Everywhere I gaze
As I look for my new spiral notebook in the morning
I see this old spiral notebook
the yellow spiral notebook
before that yellow spiral notebook,
there were many spiral notebooks
We chase after the intangible
Leaving our presence as history
Forgetting to remember that we are in the Now.
And in the midst of each others desolation,
I am full of hormones, emotions, and fears.
I’ve hidden behind a mask for years.
Not a literal mask, like the one Phantom wore
But a more subtle one—that made me seem adored.
We seem to fill up empty spaces
We try to weave certain instances
Being reluctant can't improve every chances,
In every realm, not all the time we find happiness
Be adroit as the world is changing everyday
Ruddy, thats what they call my complexion
A mix of pure white and dots
I am calico
The contours of my body are softly proportioned
a little extra here and there but I am muscled
I am strong
Once upon their time,
There lived an old witch.
She was old, and wrinkled,
White fuzz covered dark skinned-skull,
Colorful cloths wrapped her
As she walked her ways.
She helped the poor,
If people only realized this is as loud as I can be
I won't bray like a donkey just so you can hear me.
Just because I'm not boisterous and annoying
Dosen't mean I'm also always boring.
The world is full of hate
drenched in the cynical behavior that we come to know
women are starving
to achieve the level or perfecton that photo editors create
children are bullied
When Blue Reflects Upon Waves
I’m staring, always staring, forever staring,
No focus in sight, yet a bright future yields token,
Novel, arguably plausible possibilities.
I’m driving to the store. I look left at a stoplight;
A girl is applying on mascara on her already thick lashes
In the limited time frame that we have and I think of
A change can alter the world
From the change of wind for Columbus
Or a single intake of wind in a different direction
If a slight step is retaken in a new way
The world will shift
The perception starts young
Color inside the lines!
She loves to hear,
What a good girl
Effort turns to numbers
Letters worth a grade
She keeps them all A’s
What a good girl
A rush enters like a veiling curtain
Of cascading water;
A vaporous fall, endlessly joining
Aqueous substances below.
Descending from a starlit heaven,
How could my heart retain
A fear that time
will not stop
Because it won't
And I have seen it pass
All along
So I am sure
That it won't stop
And it cannot,
Now, can it?
He sees balls of flame and dust.
She sees old souls that guide her path.
I see worlds beyond all of us.
They see stars, numbers, and math.
He endures the dull,
While she beholds the beauty.
We shackle our Feet,
With Vanity and Mirrors.
That bring us to our knee's,
While we fear and shake with tremors.
We build our castle on the media and magazines we read everyday
I am not sorry that I'm not a 36-24-36
But I do have a body size that leaves me with confidence
I love my rich dark brown skin
And my dark brown eyes that shines from within
I thought he was intangible
He's fragile
He is frozen in time
He's scared
He is now going slow motion in reverse
His words are misguided
They tear everything apart
He battles his secrets
When my parents tell me
And my teachers agree and all my friends join
In their praises I can almost believe that
I've done enough.
Or better yet that I'm good enough but only
Almost.
Look at her, look at me;
its gold, versus silver,
the sun against the moon.
Where she shines, I am dim;
saught after, and alone,
the Beauty and the Beast.
My Perspective Of Life Would Be A Great Way To Change The Attitude I Have Right
What would I change?
Being such a broad inquisition, there could be multifarious interpretations.
My opinions are right
Anyone else's is stupid and aren't worth a second thought
You’re stupid, I am smart
You're wrong, oh so wrong
I am quiet because I chose to be
No I do not have an attitude
No, I am not having a bad day
Well maybe I am, but what’s it to you?
So you can say, “She seems aggravated?”
And she realizes in that moment all that is divine and faulted in her life. She stares at what is left of her bare body all frayed around the edges: remnants of despair.
They think that I’m redThe kind of crimson that comes from loud mouths and smart remarksThe scarlet of sarcasm that stems from quick witFrom quips that taste like fire and sound like flame
I am not my reflection
I am not my reflection
I am not my reflection
And if I am not how I look to myself,
I’m sure as hell not how I look to you.
So black and white
You'll never understand
The smudges and strokes
Of my untrained hand
The lines and confines of my several binds
That bind and tie lies to those who must die
I'm tired of these fucking stereotypes
dictating how I feel and act
I shouldn't like English
I should be petite and quiet
I should study, study, study
Well I fucking done
finito, over it
Mirrors, ©2013
sometimes
I get a glimpse in a shard of glass
a corner of sight as I walk past
hello, girl, I can see
how someone might be attracted to you.
sometimes
When my shoulders sag from the weights of the world,
Remind me who I am.
When the darkness hides Your lovely face,
Remind me who I am.
White women are as fragile as a beautiful butterfly.
She cannot handle what other women can!
That is why her skin is green,
for her struggles are taken and cared for by a white man.
At what point is someone deemed approachable?I do not smile at your passI do not engage in conversationI simply do not care about you at all.Why did you follow me to my car?Did I capture your eye?
What you cannot see will hurt you.
What you cannot see will bite.
You fear your eyes are opening,
So squeeze them tighter,
Block the light.
What you cannot see is beautiful.
Screams and swears
Errupt from downstairs.
Two tiny brown heads have heard;
They hang on every word.
The shatter of glass,
The slam of a door.
He hits his gas
We say we want to die
yet we look both ways before crossing the street
and our hearts speed up if a stranger is too close behind us
maybe this is because we want to die
on our own terms
slitting our own wrists
I once had a spirit,
That would cry, Livid.
A soundless screamer,
A sleepless dreamer.
A cowardly warrior,
A body-less barrier.
A sharp taste of rum,
A native tongue.
When the soul spoke,
To hear words as music
To see words as a life
To know words as your own,
It becomes more than spoken.
But as emotions with lungs;
The beauty in which moves our hearts.
To comprehend words with emotions
In the heart of the city of Manhattan,
There once was a girl by the name of Ashton.
She was as rich as could be,
As her parents were the CEO’s of a large company.
Her funds were spent like they never would end,
Spread like thick mist of perpetual darkness,
The harbinger, the evil, the snake, mischievous. Slithers.
Spreads the black cloud of human error across the deep souls of mortal man.
You said you’d let me be anything I wanted to be…
But I never could believe you
When you couldn’t let me be me.
“Don’t let them play soccer or football until they’re in college!”
I have a vivid memory.
It's not black, darkness, emptiness,
but instead, a total lack thereof,
devoid of anything.
I can't perceive how alone I am, if at all.
Something is watching me.
Who’d know the color of my skin presents so much ambiguity in society?
A different angle in the light of the city
What am I today?
For the historic family trees of America remain hallow at my name.
sudden realization of the sin
wondering where to begin
i open my eyes and see the difference
yet closed eyes, in my mind, knows no resistance
thats what’s important, right?
Finely shaped,
Satin to fall against,
Each leg and arm.
Held up only,
By the finest plank,
Of light wood.
Taking it down,
To put it on,
Only to disgard it.
To throw it away.
