My writings are divided by ======= these lines.
The darkness ever constantly
looms over her head
A head that seeks clarity
To solve the puzzles -
Retreats into the unsure mind.
Lost in a world that
condones mimics
Hiding truths and spreading lies
in classrooms
If wisdom is virtuous
But trash fills the mind
What ultimate good shall come?
Tomorrow's leaders -
trapped in a mindest
that worth comes in big pocketbooks.
Greed takes over.
Trust, nonexistent.
Cutthroats stand by mistfortune
Bringing down the power of community.
The meaning of unity has boiled down
to ignorant simplicity
of Race. of Class.
======================
Meditative release
direct focus to positive instances.
Blessings of my current state,
fail to calm the raging waters.
Tears on pause,
visible strength to an unstable core
A nonchalant charade.
Just go through the motions
of a masquerade.
Tired of games and the unknown.
Anxiety builds the more I fidget.
In need of a quick fix -
yet, knowing, such does not exist.
Hit rock bottom
only to look up,
reminded of the sole source
of undeniable hope.
========================
These two hands aim to inspire.
Fighting to expose the lies that bind us,
to release those preoccupied with themselves.
Destroyed spirits controlled by fury.
Led to believe segregation means understanding.
Convinced such divisions are destined to be
as history's repetitions trapped them in inescapable fate.
Common imperfections of mankind overlooked.
Lost in an oblivion of ignorant bliss.
I seek substance when conversating, not a spotlight.
A floor free from labels and judgment.
No hiding behind a conspiracy of silence
Afraid of unleashing a quiet riot - verbal suicide.
============================
Mental Misfit
Miseducated, the victim of abuse in all forms
Blamed for family deaths
Beaten. A consequence for
a big heart attempting to share
with those less fortunate.
Marriage outside of her own race
conflicting with the norms
of old fashioned oriental values.
Cursed and spit upon. Degraded.
Sunken lower than the dirt
that birth as a female brought, ill-fated.
Alcoholism rocks the love boat
as her beloved husband
threatens to flee with child.
Rude awakenings.
Continuous pressure weighing down
from all sides.
Elementary education doesn't go very far.
Harboring hatred
until the cup runneth over.
Bipolar schizophrenia dubbed midlife crisis?
Secrets pour out. Behavior uncontrollable, a tad justified.
Voices in her head, pictures, obsessions.
Shouting into the heavens
Not crazy. Not crazy.
Pace around, lost in a mantra
around the same table that
becomes an obstacle in medicated drunkenness.
As she is sprawled out under it,
you hear whimpers.
Quite the opposite of raging euphoria
with make believe powers to
stop cars and read minds.
So giving. Buy more to be rid of more.
Bow down to the house,
dance and be rid of evil spirit,
make offerings of fresh fruit
and why? To encourage utter lunacy?
Away she goes - to find the cause.
Endless psychosis in restricted spaces.
No diagnosis. No solution.
Invite more injections. Pills.
A horrendous lab experiment.
Once weaned off those bottles of waiting death
I Await. Could she ever be who I once knew?
Time escalates with fear.
When the next episode begins,
will she see it to the end?
=========================
Question everything. Why?
Only to hear answers unwanted
Hurtful truth and deceitful lies
Some say that they wish to meet
genuine folk
Upon discovering a lashing,
the sharp blows of a blunt tongue
Produces a mouth wide open in shock: a scoff.
How does the dose go down when faced
with truth?
Do you choke when you swallow
or do you refrain from spitting out
that which is bitter -
not fit for your refined taste?
=======================
Shelter during inclement weather
proves fortunes given by the grace of God.
I see your eyes follow me as I pass
and I am overcome with guilt.
Ashamed, I divert attention
away from my bill and a half outfit.
This image portrayed,
never reveals more than what meets the eye.
I am capable of love. I assure you.
My heart cries for the little children
anticipating their next meal. Because I,
am well fed.
I have often let myself become victim -
to living in want, questioning unhappiness,
not appreciating influential beings, sensing that I
am wanted...needed...
The gifts of this world are immeasurable.
Beauty is found in the ill-kept streets
of the ghetto - in the glimmer of hope
restored in the eyes of the children.
=========================
Terror, war, loss of control. Such madness.
An overwhelming blur in the midst of excitement.
Heated discussions complemented by hard work implemented.
There is common ground.
Without commitment, there is no survial.
============================
Patience - this gradual progression,
soon to reveal what's behind closed doors.
Priceless lessons to fear,
unveiling the degree of incompetence
that leaves me paralyzed.
Risen hopes in future plans.
In fantasies, it's always time to shine,
but this heart carries broken melodies,
missing endless opportunities. Close, to victory,
over confusion in a cluttered mind.
Lack of closure. Please, no force of healing,
for the human spirit can not
always be strong.
Hindsight keeps the mind
on edge of insanity.
If everything is based on a lie,
buy time to rethink what was taught.
For one moment I forget what is moral.
Failure rings through my head. *snap*
Reality is hard to face. *crush*
these...dreams....ESCAPE.
===========================
Nuclear arms stir up fear
of mass destruction
yet we fail to realize
gangs take the streets.
Education funds are pooled for war.
Angry mobs in homeless form,
with nothing to project their voices.
For what value do we place
on youth not mature enough to understand
or the aging minds, immoble.
==============================
What causes a heart to rejoice?
A new birth? Sunshine after pouring rain?
Tell me that these truly matter
in the eyes of today's youth.
Youth that inherits competitive nature. That
splits friendships with a
penetrating knife plunged in between
shoulders of support.
It is rumored to be lonely at the top.
Push after shove,
could this fight for solo, for spotlights,
still be encouraged?
Instead of passion being poured
into things done with love
There's a mechanical replacement
of pure attitudes - the exhibition of poor sportsmanship.
Which of these will break the mold
to use the two hands given to him by God
to serve all of humanity,
exposing himself to all that which is meaningful...
and good.
==============================
Blooming as a flower in spring.
Reaching
through crevices
as set examples like grass through concrete.
Risen, like Maya Angelou.
Discomforted but strong.
Carry me over like notes of melodies,
inscribe me in books of tragedy.
No matter.
For this soul climbs,
never grounded in sorrow,
emperess, of emotion.
=====================
In truth, this shredded heart
keeps crying.
Well aware of all those who care,
But daily struggles prevail.
To keep the mind preoccupied,
a guard to send thoughts unhealthy - behind.
Though multiple tries yield no results.
The wish continues,
in hopes of one day letting go.
Alone, such a mission, so hard to complete.
There is a being within me that
guides me through this maze of grace.
Give credit to whom it's past due
Expedited solutions - not always the case.
Only in this humble state,
am I awakened to life's blessings.
============================
In my possession is all that does more harm
than good.
Of these, which do I cherish?
A tug that something is missing,
plagues me so.
Worn and tattered, I carry on,
searching for the answer
to the never-ending questions.
In the final gathering,
catch me on the cusp of a new cycle,
pay your respects and saddle up.
Give wings to plans that never took flight,
cry not, of falsified starts, or their tomorrow.
Paint the night with memories.
Even roses have thorns.
===========================
My solution is simple, not kept in the
secretive mind.
I carry with each step what I believe,
always in peaceful protest.
My way, if proven effeective,
appealing to others, shall lead those
that follow suit.
Mind made up, no amount
of convincing would ever dissuade
thoughts parading in your head
or correct that attitude of finality.
Unsatisfactory answers, the runaround.
It allows me no room to
present my case before the judge.
Any attempt proves futile.
No demands in a fair and just trial.
Skin pigmentation speaks volumes, all
births follow a pattern -
behaviorisms convicted by the masses.
Self-representation,
bearing the cross for those equipped as I.
I pity you, living disillusioned,
in pompous superiority, as I
look to privileges of time better spent,
never inconvenienced by waste
of precious moments.
=================================
Would one grant me permission
to smite the incessantly chirping creature?
Fly off! Into the invisible.
Melt before the first cool breeze,
soar near and far -
Mourn the morn that breaks in sorrow.
I dream away the sleepless night
plagued with insatiable passion.
Push stop, rewind.
Retrace past loves left behind.
Care to share this heart
no longer.
Place all emotion in its bind.
Untied, without a doubt,
shall leave no peace of mind.
============================
PC terms for filtering ears
listening, only to what
they want to hear.
Lives carry on, assuming
assigned roles.
Robotic machines in
crippled pursuits.
Suppressed authenticity,
and self-expression.
When the fingers start pointing,
blaming whoever is within reach.
Look to the true source
of dissatisfaction - to find self
misplaced, maintained with an
attitude of indifference.
==============================
Eyes brightly lit, wide smiles,
warm hugs, and tearful partings
fill up my mind as I am reminded
of the rewards and complications
that come with my chosen path.
The perfect example of
finding pleasure in the simplest.
These beings show us a
world of no barriers, no limits
to what one can do if only
given a chance to prove themselves.
Self-advocacy the very thing
most desired.
Let their voices be heard, and
more importantly,
let us remain silent, not
interpret.
Just listen.
The darkness ever constantly
looms over her head
A head that seeks clarity
To solve the puzzles -
Retreats into the unsure mind.
Lost in a world that
condones mimics
Hiding truths and spreading lies
in classrooms
If wisdom is virtuous
But trash fills the mind
What ultimate good shall come?
Tomorrow's leaders -
trapped in a mindest
that worth comes in big pocketbooks.
Greed takes over.
Trust, nonexistent.
Cutthroats stand by mistfortune
Bringing down the power of community.
The meaning of unity has boiled down
to ignorant simplicity
of Race. of Class.
======================
Meditative release
direct focus to positive instances.
Blessings of my current state,
fail to calm the raging waters.
Tears on pause,
visible strength to an unstable core
A nonchalant charade.
Just go through the motions
of a masquerade.
Tired of games and the unknown.
Anxiety builds the more I fidget.
In need of a quick fix -
yet, knowing, such does not exist.
Hit rock bottom
only to look up,
reminded of the sole source
of undeniable hope.
========================
These two hands aim to inspire.
Fighting to expose the lies that bind us,
to release those preoccupied with themselves.
Destroyed spirits controlled by fury.
Led to believe segregation means understanding.
Convinced such divisions are destined to be
as history's repetitions trapped them in inescapable fate.
Common imperfections of mankind overlooked.
Lost in an oblivion of ignorant bliss.
I seek substance when conversating, not a spotlight.
A floor free from labels and judgment.
No hiding behind a conspiracy of silence
Afraid of unleashing a quiet riot - verbal suicide.
============================
Mental Misfit
Miseducated, the victim of abuse in all forms
Blamed for family deaths
Beaten. A consequence for
a big heart attempting to share
with those less fortunate.
Marriage outside of her own race
conflicting with the norms
of old fashioned oriental values.
Cursed and spit upon. Degraded.
Sunken lower than the dirt
that birth as a female brought, ill-fated.
Alcoholism rocks the love boat
as her beloved husband
threatens to flee with child.
Rude awakenings.
Continuous pressure weighing down
from all sides.
Elementary education doesn't go very far.
Harboring hatred
until the cup runneth over.
Bipolar schizophrenia dubbed midlife crisis?
Secrets pour out. Behavior uncontrollable, a tad justified.
Voices in her head, pictures, obsessions.
Shouting into the heavens
Not crazy. Not crazy.
Pace around, lost in a mantra
around the same table that
becomes an obstacle in medicated drunkenness.
As she is sprawled out under it,
you hear whimpers.
Quite the opposite of raging euphoria
with make believe powers to
stop cars and read minds.
So giving. Buy more to be rid of more.
Bow down to the house,
dance and be rid of evil spirit,
make offerings of fresh fruit
and why? To encourage utter lunacy?
Away she goes - to find the cause.
Endless psychosis in restricted spaces.
No diagnosis. No solution.
Invite more injections. Pills.
A horrendous lab experiment.
Once weaned off those bottles of waiting death
I Await. Could she ever be who I once knew?
Time escalates with fear.
When the next episode begins,
will she see it to the end?
=========================
Question everything. Why?
Only to hear answers unwanted
Hurtful truth and deceitful lies
Some say that they wish to meet
genuine folk
Upon discovering a lashing,
the sharp blows of a blunt tongue
Produces a mouth wide open in shock: a scoff.
How does the dose go down when faced
with truth?
Do you choke when you swallow
or do you refrain from spitting out
that which is bitter -
not fit for your refined taste?
=======================
Shelter during inclement weather
proves fortunes given by the grace of God.
I see your eyes follow me as I pass
and I am overcome with guilt.
Ashamed, I divert attention
away from my bill and a half outfit.
This image portrayed,
never reveals more than what meets the eye.
I am capable of love. I assure you.
My heart cries for the little children
anticipating their next meal. Because I,
am well fed.
I have often let myself become victim -
to living in want, questioning unhappiness,
not appreciating influential beings, sensing that I
am wanted...needed...
The gifts of this world are immeasurable.
Beauty is found in the ill-kept streets
of the ghetto - in the glimmer of hope
restored in the eyes of the children.
=========================
Terror, war, loss of control. Such madness.
An overwhelming blur in the midst of excitement.
Heated discussions complemented by hard work implemented.
There is common ground.
Without commitment, there is no survial.
============================
Patience - this gradual progression,
soon to reveal what's behind closed doors.
Priceless lessons to fear,
unveiling the degree of incompetence
that leaves me paralyzed.
Risen hopes in future plans.
In fantasies, it's always time to shine,
but this heart carries broken melodies,
missing endless opportunities. Close, to victory,
over confusion in a cluttered mind.
Lack of closure. Please, no force of healing,
for the human spirit can not
always be strong.
Hindsight keeps the mind
on edge of insanity.
If everything is based on a lie,
buy time to rethink what was taught.
For one moment I forget what is moral.
Failure rings through my head. *snap*
Reality is hard to face. *crush*
these...dreams....ESCAPE.
===========================
Nuclear arms stir up fear
of mass destruction
yet we fail to realize
gangs take the streets.
Education funds are pooled for war.
Angry mobs in homeless form,
with nothing to project their voices.
For what value do we place
on youth not mature enough to understand
or the aging minds, immoble.
==============================
What causes a heart to rejoice?
A new birth? Sunshine after pouring rain?
Tell me that these truly matter
in the eyes of today's youth.
Youth that inherits competitive nature. That
splits friendships with a
penetrating knife plunged in between
shoulders of support.
It is rumored to be lonely at the top.
Push after shove,
could this fight for solo, for spotlights,
still be encouraged?
Instead of passion being poured
into things done with love
There's a mechanical replacement
of pure attitudes - the exhibition of poor sportsmanship.
Which of these will break the mold
to use the two hands given to him by God
to serve all of humanity,
exposing himself to all that which is meaningful...
and good.
==============================
Blooming as a flower in spring.
Reaching
through crevices
as set examples like grass through concrete.
Risen, like Maya Angelou.
Discomforted but strong.
Carry me over like notes of melodies,
inscribe me in books of tragedy.
No matter.
For this soul climbs,
never grounded in sorrow,
emperess, of emotion.
=====================
In truth, this shredded heart
keeps crying.
Well aware of all those who care,
But daily struggles prevail.
To keep the mind preoccupied,
a guard to send thoughts unhealthy - behind.
Though multiple tries yield no results.
The wish continues,
in hopes of one day letting go.
Alone, such a mission, so hard to complete.
There is a being within me that
guides me through this maze of grace.
Give credit to whom it's past due
Expedited solutions - not always the case.
Only in this humble state,
am I awakened to life's blessings.
============================
In my possession is all that does more harm
than good.
Of these, which do I cherish?
A tug that something is missing,
plagues me so.
Worn and tattered, I carry on,
searching for the answer
to the never-ending questions.
In the final gathering,
catch me on the cusp of a new cycle,
pay your respects and saddle up.
Give wings to plans that never took flight,
cry not, of falsified starts, or their tomorrow.
Paint the night with memories.
Even roses have thorns.
===========================
My solution is simple, not kept in the
secretive mind.
I carry with each step what I believe,
always in peaceful protest.
My way, if proven effeective,
appealing to others, shall lead those
that follow suit.
Mind made up, no amount
of convincing would ever dissuade
thoughts parading in your head
or correct that attitude of finality.
Unsatisfactory answers, the runaround.
It allows me no room to
present my case before the judge.
Any attempt proves futile.
No demands in a fair and just trial.
Skin pigmentation speaks volumes, all
births follow a pattern -
behaviorisms convicted by the masses.
Self-representation,
bearing the cross for those equipped as I.
I pity you, living disillusioned,
in pompous superiority, as I
look to privileges of time better spent,
never inconvenienced by waste
of precious moments.
=================================
Would one grant me permission
to smite the incessantly chirping creature?
Fly off! Into the invisible.
Melt before the first cool breeze,
soar near and far -
Mourn the morn that breaks in sorrow.
I dream away the sleepless night
plagued with insatiable passion.
Push stop, rewind.
Retrace past loves left behind.
Care to share this heart
no longer.
Place all emotion in its bind.
Untied, without a doubt,
shall leave no peace of mind.
============================
PC terms for filtering ears
listening, only to what
they want to hear.
Lives carry on, assuming
assigned roles.
Robotic machines in
crippled pursuits.
Suppressed authenticity,
and self-expression.
When the fingers start pointing,
blaming whoever is within reach.
Look to the true source
of dissatisfaction - to find self
misplaced, maintained with an
attitude of indifference.
==============================
Eyes brightly lit, wide smiles,
warm hugs, and tearful partings
fill up my mind as I am reminded
of the rewards and complications
that come with my chosen path.
The perfect example of
finding pleasure in the simplest.
These beings show us a
world of no barriers, no limits
to what one can do if only
given a chance to prove themselves.
Self-advocacy the very thing
most desired.
Let their voices be heard, and
more importantly,
let us remain silent, not
interpret.
Just listen.