cade-brown - Hello Poetry

6/21/2018 The night is alive with possibility The suspense is killing me Lightning strikes a pose And thunder comes to me deeply Seeping through atmosphere Home is here Home is where a gaze holds you safe and a shoulder keeps you steadfast Cognitive dissonance I cannot live with this policy ripping through my arteries, this image won’t stop coming to me A 9-months old baby In an orange jumpsuit In a cage in a city Unclaimed, unwritten, undocumented, unforgiven for the sins of colonialism Unforgivable Where were you when ****** branded the Jews? Then you are accountable too

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Jun 21, 2018

Jun 21, 2018 at 10:39 PM UTC

cade-brown

Cognitive Dissonance

6/21/2018 The night is alive with possibility The suspense is killing me Lightning strikes a pose And thunder comes to me deeply Seeping through atmosphere Home is here Home is where a gaze holds you safe and a shoulder keeps you steadfast Cognitive dissonance I cannot live with this policy ripping through my arteries, this image won’t stop coming to me A 9-months old baby In an orange jumpsuit In a cage in a city Unclaimed, unwritten, undocumented, unforgiven for the sins of colonialism Unforgivable Where were you when ****** branded the Jews? Then you are accountable too

18

#adjective 1. i never asked to be like this, consumed utterly. when i run out of ink i dip my quill in my own veins and scratch out beautiful, ethereal, unutterable words in crimson. passion and pain are interchangeable in my mind, each one bleeding into the other and through each other. 2. words forge my palace and my prison. i compose poetry and story and power, like a creature possessed. my pen flies across the page, like it has a mind of its own. 3. i run out of space on the page in front of me, filling my notebook, filling innumerable napkins at various cafés with half-formed thoughts and unintelligible scribbles. i ink 3am inspirations and epiphanies on my skin, up and down my arms, a living testament to my obsession, my mania. 4. i must move mountains and i have a teaspoon for a ***** h.f.m.

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cade-brown

Apr 20, 2018

Apr 20, 2018 at 7:49 AM UTC

012301

SCRIPTURIENT

#adjective 1. i never asked to be like this, consumed utterly. when i run out of ink i dip my quill in my own veins and scratch out beautiful, ethereal, unutterable words in crimson. passion and pain are interchangeable in my mind, each one bleeding into the other and through each other. 2. words forge my palace and my prison. i compose poetry and story and power, like a creature possessed. my pen flies across the page, like it has a mind of its own. 3. i run out of space on the page in front of me, filling my notebook, filling innumerable napkins at various cafés with half-formed thoughts and unintelligible scribbles. i ink 3am inspirations and epiphanies on my skin, up and down my arms, a living testament to my obsession, my mania. 4. i must move mountains and i have a teaspoon for a ***** h.f.m.

6

I know why the caged bird sings. It's not because his song is as vibrant as his feathers, that he plucks away each day because he doesn't feel beautiful. It's not because of the majesty that exist in the freedom of being able to spread his wings though he knows he'll never rise to the occasion. He sings because he believes that this cage was made for a king because he has never tasted freedom with a side order of skies. He's never flown past the sun on a cool morning or hung with the moon on a warm night. He's only ever known the comfort of a prison that his thoughts have become accustomed to calling home. He would never venture beyond the "welcome" mat because what's beyond the threshold holds no promise the way these bars and metal locks do. He sings because he knows that no one is listening so if he makes a mistake he doesn't have to live with the regret or embarrassment of knowing that he missed his note. The caged bird never believes that he's caged because behind these walls he's safe and he prefers it this way. I know why the caged bird sings.

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cade-brown

Apr 20, 2018

Apr 20, 2018 at 7:41 AM UTC

MisterGranger

tHE cAGED bIRD

I know why the caged bird sings. It's not because his song is as vibrant as his feathers, that he plucks away each day because he doesn't feel beautiful. It's not because of the majesty that exist in the freedom of being able to spread his wings though he knows he'll never rise to the occasion. He sings because he believes that this cage was made for a king because he has never tasted freedom with a side order of skies. He's never flown past the sun on a cool morning or hung with the moon on a warm night. He's only ever known the comfort of a prison that his thoughts have become accustomed to calling home. He would never venture beyond the "welcome" mat because what's beyond the threshold holds no promise the way these bars and metal locks do. He sings because he knows that no one is listening so if he makes a mistake he doesn't have to live with the regret or embarrassment of knowing that he missed his note. The caged bird never believes that he's caged because behind these walls he's safe and he prefers it this way. I know why the caged bird sings.

41

Boys will be boys, will be men, will destroy Will take and take what you create Will shame you if you deviate Will make the rules they proceed to break And after every encounter, you're a little more shaken A little more autonomy from you has been taken You rack your brain to find the words to demonstrate just how it hurts Time passes - and the moment is gone They were staring at your *** and you know it was wrong You know you don't belong You are an object for observation But that's a whole different song So does it make it any better when you play along? Are you simply playing victim in a manmade system? A child of the Fight, how do you extract from that mode? In a world full of players, you let yourself be taken How is it that you manage to let the simple words break in? The glass ceiling is surprisingly sharp And the burden on your back gets heavier as you approach The child in the closet didn't make it this far There's a fine line between honoring your wounds and hiding in the dark This is the line I walk every day On one side, victim and healer, I tend to my wounds The other lives in reality and makes the right moves But duality is a falsity Of course one can't be two And the structure I see in the world I perceive brings out the fight **** the patriarchy **** the Right They're not right Their vision is just limited There are so many issues I wish to address If I cry through the fight, does that make it worth any less? Does my brokenness somehow discount the rest? The weight of my burdens change by the day And yes, victimhood is the easiest way May I be the last to place blame This glass house holds no shame And if you won't throw the stones at the broken and stuck Pass them around and throw them straight up Let's all make the ceiling shatter and fall And watch now as the shards rain down And this can happen when we're all ready to be active And act as protagonists in our own play So **** the patriarchy, but do it in your own time, and in your own way

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Apr 15, 2018

Apr 15, 2018 at 8:32 PM UTC

cade-brown

**** The Patriarchy

Boys will be boys, will be men, will destroy Will take and take what you create Will shame you if you deviate Will make the rules they proceed to break And after every encounter, you're a little more shaken A little more autonomy from you has been taken You rack your brain to find the words to demonstrate just how it hurts Time passes - and the moment is gone They were staring at your *** and you know it was wrong You know you don't belong You are an object for observation But that's a whole different song So does it make it any better when you play along? Are you simply playing victim in a manmade system? A child of the Fight, how do you extract from that mode? In a world full of players, you let yourself be taken How is it that you manage to let the simple words break in? The glass ceiling is surprisingly sharp And the burden on your back gets heavier as you approach The child in the closet didn't make it this far There's a fine line between honoring your wounds and hiding in the dark This is the line I walk every day On one side, victim and healer, I tend to my wounds The other lives in reality and makes the right moves But duality is a falsity Of course one can't be two And the structure I see in the world I perceive brings out the fight **** the patriarchy **** the Right They're not right Their vision is just limited There are so many issues I wish to address If I cry through the fight, does that make it worth any less? Does my brokenness somehow discount the rest? The weight of my burdens change by the day And yes, victimhood is the easiest way May I be the last to place blame This glass house holds no shame And if you won't throw the stones at the broken and stuck Pass them around and throw them straight up Let's all make the ceiling shatter and fall And watch now as the shards rain down And this can happen when we're all ready to be active And act as protagonists in our own play So **** the patriarchy, but do it in your own time, and in your own way

45

9/2/2017 Sure, i was young and stupid Its a good excuse its not nice to think you would make the same mistake twice Im older now, more wise At least, thats the narrative i live by I wont be stupid again like that time I wont misjudge a snake for a vine I wont get bit, i wont cry My boundaries stand high Noone unworthy gets by So dont even try I will find good people, make good love No more stupid mistakes, no more fuckups My old self was sweet but messed up Im stronger now, better at coping with stress Less ******** more truth But is that really how you wanna feel about the younger you? The one that made it through? The little kid that stood up time and again When depression exacerbated everything she felt? Who made it through her own hell? Well, maybe its healthier to belittle her than to feel helpless But know that she was glorious herself and She was wise and well equipped To cope with reality's ******** She survived the hellish Stayed vulnerable, wasnt selfish Hell, if thats what you wanna trivialize, be my guest But just remember to say thank you Because if you are better, its because she was the best

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Apr 15, 2018

Apr 15, 2018 at 8:31 PM UTC

cade-brown

Thank You

9/2/2017 Sure, i was young and stupid Its a good excuse its not nice to think you would make the same mistake twice Im older now, more wise At least, thats the narrative i live by I wont be stupid again like that time I wont misjudge a snake for a vine I wont get bit, i wont cry My boundaries stand high Noone unworthy gets by So dont even try I will find good people, make good love No more stupid mistakes, no more fuckups My old self was sweet but messed up Im stronger now, better at coping with stress Less ******** more truth But is that really how you wanna feel about the younger you? The one that made it through? The little kid that stood up time and again When depression exacerbated everything she felt? Who made it through her own hell? Well, maybe its healthier to belittle her than to feel helpless But know that she was glorious herself and She was wise and well equipped To cope with reality's ******** She survived the hellish Stayed vulnerable, wasnt selfish Hell, if thats what you wanna trivialize, be my guest But just remember to say thank you Because if you are better, its because she was the best

30

9/17/17 You break, you rage, you hide from yourself You go to work inert You write, cry, eat, divert Write poems and lists and tools It gets better Just watch your monkey brain chatter Next time you will be better She said read the list of cons every time he tries to contact you You see its ron calling then read all the wrong things he did to you Its a way to train your monkey brain to reconsider its attitude Reactions are automatic trails straight back to you Addiction is a pathway, cold turkey is the best path to choose I used to use but ive been two months true And we move on In the medical field, we say See one, do one, teach one I saw, i did, i taught I hid, i undid, i thought I was free But freedom is fleeting And catching it defeats its meaning I mean i think im seeing I intend to be teaching Because learning hurts Growth spurts Its a steep curve Sometimes it only seems to get worse But its worth it in the end Thats what they say The only question then Is who says "when?" And how long do I have to wait?

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Apr 15, 2018

Apr 15, 2018 at 8:30 PM UTC

cade-brown

What You Do

9/17/17 You break, you rage, you hide from yourself You go to work inert You write, cry, eat, divert Write poems and lists and tools It gets better Just watch your monkey brain chatter Next time you will be better She said read the list of cons every time he tries to contact you You see its ron calling then read all the wrong things he did to you Its a way to train your monkey brain to reconsider its attitude Reactions are automatic trails straight back to you Addiction is a pathway, cold turkey is the best path to choose I used to use but ive been two months true And we move on In the medical field, we say See one, do one, teach one I saw, i did, i taught I hid, i undid, i thought I was free But freedom is fleeting And catching it defeats its meaning I mean i think im seeing I intend to be teaching Because learning hurts Growth spurts Its a steep curve Sometimes it only seems to get worse But its worth it in the end Thats what they say The only question then Is who says "when?" And how long do I have to wait?

33

When i think of all the people i love If i were to die tonight Theres a lot who wouldnt come to mind But who gave me light Theres ppl who wouldnt even make my list But who have made my life livable for at least a little bit All the things you think youd never do Things that would never happen to you ** I would never I said I wouldnt ever I thought Im living a joke At least i can laugh Thats my joy and my craft I do **** ive been thru **** Im not proud to admit But i love myself always Thru all of it Forgiveness is hard Moving forward is harder One step forward That ones a non-starter Is it in the cards or Is this pain just fodder For my art or Am i really moving Tell me god How am i doing? Were you a **** up like me? Did you **** Mary of Magdalene? Did your parents disapprove? Were you in love, unmoved? Unshaken by the fear and hatred By the biases that make people say **** You lived with the sinners You must have been one Is my line in the sand thinner? What misdeeds did you consider? Tell me. Am i like you? Were your senses alive? All five? Did you embrace them or hide? Did you hate your skin? Or did your sensuality thrive? Did you never touch your disciples With amorous love? Almighty, human, spirit, dove How can you be human Without being broken? Without hurting and being hurt, your claim is token Cant have spoken on the human condition Without having lived it Without having given and taken What is this life for But to **** up and love more? To tip the balance to love over hate To hurt people some, play the ***** Learn your goodness aint innate It grates on my nerves Claim to serve Cling to words In a book used to curse The broken and hurt What the **** is life worth If you dont get to live? Lord forgive me my sins Forgive those who sin against me And let me fall into temptation Deliver me to evil For that is our kingdom Humanity's glory Amen

0

Apr 15, 2018

Apr 15, 2018 at 8:28 PM UTC

cade-brown

The Lord's Prayer

When i think of all the people i love If i were to die tonight Theres a lot who wouldnt come to mind But who gave me light Theres ppl who wouldnt even make my list But who have made my life livable for at least a little bit All the things you think youd never do Things that would never happen to you ** I would never I said I wouldnt ever I thought Im living a joke At least i can laugh Thats my joy and my craft I do **** ive been thru **** Im not proud to admit But i love myself always Thru all of it Forgiveness is hard Moving forward is harder One step forward That ones a non-starter Is it in the cards or Is this pain just fodder For my art or Am i really moving Tell me god How am i doing? Were you a **** up like me? Did you **** Mary of Magdalene? Did your parents disapprove? Were you in love, unmoved? Unshaken by the fear and hatred By the biases that make people say **** You lived with the sinners You must have been one Is my line in the sand thinner? What misdeeds did you consider? Tell me. Am i like you? Were your senses alive? All five? Did you embrace them or hide? Did you hate your skin? Or did your sensuality thrive? Did you never touch your disciples With amorous love? Almighty, human, spirit, dove How can you be human Without being broken? Without hurting and being hurt, your claim is token Cant have spoken on the human condition Without having lived it Without having given and taken What is this life for But to **** up and love more? To tip the balance to love over hate To hurt people some, play the ***** Learn your goodness aint innate It grates on my nerves Claim to serve Cling to words In a book used to curse The broken and hurt What the **** is life worth If you dont get to live? Lord forgive me my sins Forgive those who sin against me And let me fall into temptation Deliver me to evil For that is our kingdom Humanity's glory Amen

73

8/24/2017 You were the one that chose to cheat And now. Now you wanna be with me? Its you and I, there is no we Its not my fault that you're so weak Its you that ****** up, see? But now you wanna be with me? Without me you go crazy Try to take your life maybe In a hospital bed, waiting But see, I cant be your reason to be Your temper tantrums dont shake me You want me to forgive and forget Because you "need me" and you havent ****** up lately Its not like five years of lies invalidates any promise you could make me Histrionic narcissist, even everything wasnt enough Even eight different women couldnt fix the depth of your insecurity So you go to church and claim purity I can say this with absolute certainty We are done, you and me. You are a tornado And I found my way out But i cant take her with me I had to gather what was left of myself and flee Before your chaos engulfed me entirely And now there is a blameless girl With a broken dad An absent mom and a step-mom whos gone And you are the one to blame You are the one who did wrong

0

Apr 15, 2018

Apr 15, 2018 at 8:26 PM UTC

cade-brown

You

8/24/2017 You were the one that chose to cheat And now. Now you wanna be with me? Its you and I, there is no we Its not my fault that you're so weak Its you that ****** up, see? But now you wanna be with me? Without me you go crazy Try to take your life maybe In a hospital bed, waiting But see, I cant be your reason to be Your temper tantrums dont shake me You want me to forgive and forget Because you "need me" and you havent ****** up lately Its not like five years of lies invalidates any promise you could make me Histrionic narcissist, even everything wasnt enough Even eight different women couldnt fix the depth of your insecurity So you go to church and claim purity I can say this with absolute certainty We are done, you and me. You are a tornado And I found my way out But i cant take her with me I had to gather what was left of myself and flee Before your chaos engulfed me entirely And now there is a blameless girl With a broken dad An absent mom and a step-mom whos gone And you are the one to blame You are the one who did wrong

30

8/24/2017 I rise That last interaction wasnt quite what i asked for Not sure how she feels or why I said that to her That one thing we all seek I try to give freely My body screams i see you Do you see me? I rise My heart stings from the things i cant do The ones that I loved and couldnt hold onto The paths that i saw and chose not to pursue The vague nameless shadow that clouds my view I rise, I rise I still see, im still seen My heart still beats I know my love language I speak it with me There are still secrets I frantically seek Knowledge is the spark that catches me Depression is no match for connections and facts The key to my heart is curiosity I rise

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Apr 15, 2018

Apr 15, 2018 at 8:25 PM UTC

cade-brown

I rise

8/24/2017 I rise That last interaction wasnt quite what i asked for Not sure how she feels or why I said that to her That one thing we all seek I try to give freely My body screams i see you Do you see me? I rise My heart stings from the things i cant do The ones that I loved and couldnt hold onto The paths that i saw and chose not to pursue The vague nameless shadow that clouds my view I rise, I rise I still see, im still seen My heart still beats I know my love language I speak it with me There are still secrets I frantically seek Knowledge is the spark that catches me Depression is no match for connections and facts The key to my heart is curiosity I rise

23

9/3/2017 Similar feelings in similar situations Flirty, playful, good conversation Their names run together in my mind I bite my tongue before i speak the wrong one All i want is just one No, not one of them Someone who holds me when im hurting and knows when Knows me, knows how to let me cry Knows why I speak my mind Calls me on my crimes Doesnt tell me lies Who gets me every time Yes its sappy and Im whining Trying to picture perfect But perfects not worth it Cuz its never real * Just a moment you steal Then reality kicks down the door Tussled hair, pants on the floor Youre the fool who got used by a tool Or you did the using Its just semantics, but you think you're broken And thats what it is * Every time you give, you leave a little more behind Think itll be different next time Why? Because the only other option is giving up on something new And thats just something you'd rather not do

0

Apr 15, 2018

Apr 15, 2018 at 8:25 PM UTC