To the middle school English teachers
that simplified Shakespearean plays to the last syllable, feeling like the same dagger of odd epiphanies.
The distinct powdery paint stained floors, acrylic smudged tables and the coffee aroma by 09:03.
An art class educated by a poetic tongue, flicking through all art movements like he existed eloquently in each.
Our engineering & graphics teacher who simultaneously mothered us as her own from the isolated section of block D. In the background, a blackboard with meticulously drawn site plans of the highest precision. Her shouts were just as sharp.
To my spontaneous IT teachers that taught me how to maneuver through binary dilemmas and store any distress in random access memory.
Or to the person who found my wallet with my ID and bank cards but had no idea where my cash disappeared to.
The aloof B15 bus driver constantly arriving before the last bell, especially on rainy pastel gray days.
The far too kind Mrs Sharon. I've never met you personally. However, your positive impact on my grandparent's life rolled both from their tongues and into my life.
Thank you.
Dec 30, 2021
Dec 30, 2021 at 1:52 AM UTC
It's in the struggle of achieving dreams where adversity introduces a man to himself.
Those are the same moments where you brawl with the inadequacies that plague you. The grotesque sight of failed expectations and debacles that burden your mental like a clogged bathtub.
I've met myself on many occasions in the heat of adversity.
Each man different than the last, because I rejected each mediocre version of myself and demanded more - better!
I have done this until there was no more to meet.
I can't tell you who I am, but for the first time in many moons...I have met the person I worked so hard to be and just for a brief moment, I can finally be content with who I am.
Nov 17, 2021
Nov 17, 2021 at 6:37 AM UTC
If I had to anonymously write about being hogged by depression, my pens would run out of ink before I could finish.
While reading it, you might even conclude that the author finally succumbed to the morbid thoughts and machinations lurking around his overwrought mental. When in reality...
10 toes is what I still stand on.
Aug 10, 2021
Aug 10, 2021 at 5:10 AM UTC
Death and the ***** got a high exchange rate
How much marketing is put up for the hate
Its graffiti how the bullets are sprayed on us
Splattered on our T-shirts to reminisce but never do make it on any front page
The museums are filled with masterpieces painted from the bristles of our anguish
The harsh circumstances that make us selfish
If my blood turned into a currency
how much would you sell me out for?
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 7:40 PM UTC
Lethargic energies found on the corner street
Dreams devoured by their caustic cigar
Infatuated with not what to eat...
All the seek is the next bottle of liquor
The women selling mealies and vetkoeks
Hoping for at least, a penny
The kids are back from school but too hungry to entertain books
No wonder these kids grow to be as fatuous as Lenny
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 3:57 PM UTC
Not once but the number of stars on their shoulder
I wish miracles existed 'cause he'll never survive
Is this what is meant by laws being bolder?
Taking the life of a youngster holding just a knife?
Live ammunition shot by fatuous brains
Bury our bodies but our soul remains
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 1:27 PM UTC
while hugging, our bodies release oxytocin hormones into our system
eating chocolate gives off the same hormones
as being with your loved one
...guess that's why I'm rocking back & forth
on grandma's squeaky chair
with all chocolate money could buy
a precaution for the lonely hours of 2am
when the chocolate is well out
& still...quivering & craving
your feminine touch
your sweet lullaby voice
& your ability to numb my heart from the pain
right after you abuse it with love
chocolate makes my heart weep,
But Baby,
You make it roar
louder than a lion that just won war
a blink without your love quivers my soul
Don't you see, you're the drug
that makes me whole
you make ****** seem like ordinary water when compared to you
my druggie,
-Your ******
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 4:12 PM UTC
Yes, actions speak louder than words...but some lies shout.
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 3:23 PM UTC
some souls
are made
from pitch black coals
turning everything they touch dull & old
But
Every fierce, eternal fire of hope demands the same load
of dark unattractive coals
that nobody wants to touch.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 2:53 PM UTC
There are no parachutes given
on the plane of Love.
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 7:33 AM UTC