They tell me to be happy
To laugh & act care free
They tell me I’ll feel better
Why can’t they just leave me be?

They tell me to be happy
As if it should be easy for me
They tell me I’m not trying
I can’t help but disagree

They tell me to be happy
If I go to therapy they guarantee
That it will fix all my problems
Which sounds so silly to me

They tell me to be happy
I tell them I’m just fine
Sometimes there’s beauty in suffering
And I’ve found mine in rhyme

My heart casts
a shadow
that takes
your form:
How can I
resist?

THIS:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jCHL9b6nBXA



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCII)


Watch Paul McCartney's erm, debut of thence
That soulful number "Yesterday." and they'll
What, eh?  If's not the song itself t'avail,
How 'bout John Lennon's snide remark for sense
To Ringo, was't?  As if there was fr'intents
This rivalry which could not in betrayl
Be satisfied to have Paul up (sans bail?)
Alone on stage where all the girls cooed hence.
As if they did not cry for John in tour,
And that by name, he must begrudge it too?
I'm just a child in sheer compare as twere,
Yet "all grown-up" now to effect, see through
Their boyish ways and fall in love, though's poor.
While "Yesterday's" notes never fail too woo.

22Mar19b

I just lay here
With my own fear
I sit in a chair
Thinking life is unfair

I’ve been chasing a cause
Despite my own flaws
I just need the key
In order to be free

I’m not breathing right
My heart is my sight
My passion is my light
Leading straight to fight

Now I’m already dead
When my light lead
It was you I dread

The bigger my heart,
the greater my capacity for hurt.

The more open my mind
the deeper I need to think.

beauty is not defined by
the colors of pigment you brush onto your skin
to hide what you believe are flaws.
its not defined by the fibers you glue onto
your eye lids.
nor the creams and glosses you swipe upon your lips.
beauty is not defined by the skin tones
that rest on top of your bones,
or what colors of silk lay upon your head.

beauty lies peacefully within the soul, mind, and spirit.

you are beautiful.

a year's worth of scarring
adorns my thigh,
lying there
a constant reminder
but they are also
a year's worth of happiness,
of friends,
of recovery,
of love.
they are from the year
that i wanted to die,
but now
they represent
another year
i have lived.

Sometimes
it feels like
the only way forward
is a U-turn
back towards yesterday-
heading for the past.
For it is there
where my heart
doesn't want to leave.

Her Majesty
I am a woman of Power
An African Woman

We may all lay under the same stars but I praise beyond the earth
We may all walk on the same soil but I conquer the roots

I am An African Woman
They may all talk but history is in my name
They may walk in the essence of nature but history are my footprints

I promise I will be good
Don't let anyone steal you from me
I will care for us as I should
I'm not always close, and I know that is hard
But don't let anyone see what I see in you
Don't take yourself away from me
Because you are the she, the she that makes me complete

Words can hurt. Words can heal. Words in a book can make you believe anything is real. Words can bring people together or tear them apart. It all depends on the kind of conversation you want to start.

The steam streaks on tiles
Loosening dirt and grime

Books devour the silence

that weighs down inside

like bright little creatures

they dream and breath

in their cosy little worlds

until each page sizzles

with a human touch

wheres the golden days they spoke about
seem like metallic lies
shiny by the looks of them
still cold to the touch

I followed through the void,
witnessed the darkest glare,
said to myself I'm fine,
I think I will die there.

it’s a beautiful thing
this day and age
with bubbling permafrost
with drug-resistance
with obesity treatments
with technological advancements
with scientific discoveries
with silent wars
with blue lava
with bleeding glaciers
with divorce
with sensitivity
with my generation
of people believing
this new generation
is completely and
utterly clueless as a
common occurrence

but let’s think about
what these kids are
into nowadays.

let’s think about who
invented these inane
things for the kids.

my generation of people.

so the kids of today are
the ones who are ******
for liking the things
that we’ve created?

I’m sorry but we have to
be the ones who are obtuse
for believing such things,
oblivious for not
realizing them and
showing the world
we have
little or no imagination
anymore.

the generation before us
has lied to us and
thought us to lie
to the generation
after.

whether it’s the gods
or holidays
or what not.

the youth of the today
are autonomous.
they can not take
responsibility for
their actions nor do
they understand and
just go along
with the trends,
much like,
all the generations
before them
but we need a scapegoat
to cover up our own
farce implementations.

the truth of the matter is..
we’re all a little vacuous
in our own way
especially the ones with
an answer for everything.
living in an imperfect world
where there’s always room
for improvement
nothing for us
or against us
wrapped up in our
congratulatory
self-contradictory
and illogical theories
and as useless as
exploding appendix.

the lost generation
the interbellum generation
the silent generation
the baby boomers
generation x
the millennials

a strong admixture
of imbecility and
self-assurance
filled with belief
and unawareness
to a senseless world

like hate
like blame
like gossip
like jealousy
like being offended
like being impressive
like the punk rock dream
like hospital waiting rooms
like fundraisers and charity events
like your co-worker to the right and
the left of you
and their families
and their families before
them

our greatest creation
our strongest aide

to deconstruct

jet black raven
ruby red
marble eyes
with
speckles of
jasper green
and
cadet blue
plumage
perched
on
top of
a sycamore tree
near
the
ghost grave
while
speaking in tongues
along
the way

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

Lick my lips
Cradle my face
Gaze into my eyes
And tell me I'm safe

i dread the day you learn
for the first time that
you can't just love all
the darkness in me away

and no matter how much
you care i will still toss
and turn at night and scars
might still appear on my skin

i dread the day you realize
that you can't cure me
and sometimes all you can do
is stand next to me and
hold my hand through fog
pouring out of my ears so black
and thick we can't even see
each other's faces

i dread the days i can't
get out of bed
the days you want to
take me out and all
i can manage is a prettified
shell of myself

i dread the day you learn
that sometimes no matter
how hard i try i still can't
pull myself together

the day you learn that
there isn't an answer
you can give that will
save me from my fears

you aren't the first person
who has tried to love the
darkness inside away
my family and friends
have given it their all
but someday you too will learn
that if love could
cure mental illness
the world would be
a much better place

I'll get the day
on my side
and sail
with its tide-

I'll persuade
the night to sing
along with me
and comfort bring-

I'll tell the stars
you shouldn't hide
away--lovers are waiting
travellers need you to guide-

I'll whisper to my heart
in patience and faith abide
for a kinder and happier world
let this be my prayer to recite.

I just ordered
My third cup of coffee
After all, I am in good company
Words spilled before me.

Could they have known —
I will always look for
The smell of old books
In this digital world.

Words, my words,
My heart treasures
To put pen to paper.

Time is unkind
For a writer,

Nothing is ephemeral.

You are
A page marked by a folded corner
A love I will come back to
In the future.

Paint me a picture
Of your skin
Does it bronze beneath the sun?
Or sizzle and blush
Like your cheeks
When you’re in love?
Is it soft to the touch
Like when your palms graze
The smooth surface of water?
Or rough around the edges
Like your favorite book
And its lovingly worn corners?
Does it melt in the heat
Like sweet syrupy treats
Dripping through your fingers?
Or does it welcome the winter
With wide open arms
As if greeting a lover?
Paint me a picture
Of your skin