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 Jul 2013 PoetWhoKnowIt
Sobriquet
My friends and I got drunk tonight
it feels like there are fire alarms going off in my head
but it doesn't matter because tomorrow there are bacon sandwiches
******* bacon.
Burning inside myself
I itch to break free
To spread my wings
To fly away, my own way

Living my life to please others
While letting myself just
Sink-
I've done this for too long

But how to change
To what I am
Without hurting or losing
The one's I hold dearest?

"Those who matter don't mind
Those who mind don't matter"
Or so they say,
But I find this untrue

How could my own family not matter?
This is why I've hidden,
For so long I've been a butterfly
While inside is a black panther

The winds of change are stirring
Making me jumpy,
Agitated-
Ready to break free

But am I?
There must have been a light
That I could only see
That when I looked out the window
I knew what I could be.
But Not everyone could see it
So no one could believe
How bright this light was shining
And how it was for me.
I believed I had the strength
And the patience to follow through
But the second I got discourage
I decided it'll never do.
Because nobody believed me.
So why should I believe
That star was really shining
And still it shines for me.
But if nobody believed
Then what is it I see
Something everybody saw
And easily deceived.
Sometimes I catch myself,
Looking out to see
If that light is shining
I guess it's still for me.
Even though it flickers
And it's dimming down
I will keep on looking
Hoping I'll come around.
 Jul 2013 PoetWhoKnowIt
Leira
Everyday I wake up to you
Makes me smile to see your face
A peaceful expression that etches across your features
So content in dreaming
And when you wake, your green eyes shine as they stare into mine
You smile and say all the right things
You push past all boundaries just to make me happy
And when you wake I try to reply to all your wonderful sayings
Try to express the same amount as you
But no matter how much energy I waste
It will never accumulate
Because your connection is deeper than mine
It always will be
And I can pretend
I can pretend to love you with all that I am
I can try to say all the right things
But I would give anything to go back in time
Change when I let you in and why I let you stay so long
I made you believe that you belonged
Sometimes lying here with you by my side
Lying awake, waiting for the day to take me away
I think of all the times when you made me smile
How effortless it was
Now every morning, I force one
Hoping that it will be enough
That you will never see past my facade
I pray for change, that I can tell you everything
That for once, a moment can be real
And there are few that shine through
That pushes past my memory gap
Believing that maybe this could work
Yet knowing on the inside I could never account for what you do
So I close my eyes and dream of the night
When you were mine
That very first time
When all was real and true
I didn't have to think anything through
Because it wasn't for a show, it wasn't for pretend
It meant something then
So every night when we gather in the dim light
And I let you put your arm around me
Hold me in the dark veil of the outside
All I think is— I want this to be true
I want it to be real; I want to feel something inside me come alive
But regret and guilt eats away all that remains
Yet you stay, I stay
Because I don’t know how to tell you in so many words
That you aren't enough
I could have prevented all that has occurred
With a few simple words
I never learnt to say a million things
Not in that way
So looking at you now and knowing in a few minutes
You’ll be awake, ready to start the day
I think this is a better way
Of telling you everything
Because I’m hoping you heard
All that I had to say
While you were sleeping
So tomorrow I think I might be leaving
I think that might be the day I start living
Companion to "Consequences"
Marooned in an island of his own creation,
full of machine wonders and prehistoric monsters
                                 never one could dream,
he realizes,
life is what one brings out from
the depth of one's psyche's churning,
yet as much a creation of hands working,
on the potter's wheel that's turning
to create shapes of things we never had foreseen.

But deep down, he is a rage,
a fire threatening to erupt and consume all bastions of waste,
built, around our lives, by thoughtless monsters,
                                             then,
                                                a happy haze prompt him to flower,
                                                a rhapsody, kicks its baby legs inside
                                                a startling beauty begins to emerge.
 Jul 2013 PoetWhoKnowIt
TigerEyes
I had a dream I was dreaming..
implying strong aspirations of optimism
indicating my wishful thinking
that I was a small child
blonde, and fair without a care
fluent in French
along with emotional intelligence
ahead of my time
in feminine wile
I was acting out a play
animated in every way
drawing a crowd
all the grown ups watched
smiling at me
imagining a bright future
at least that's what I dreamed...
they could all see...
then I turned into a Chimpanzee
swinging from tree to tree.
© 2013

*Based on a dream I had last night.
 Jul 2013 PoetWhoKnowIt
miela
"if i had a son, he'd look like trayvon." barack hussein obama
there will never be justice on stolen land.
be concerned of the people,
and the system,
and the philosophy.
nights like these i fear:
having a son
having a black son
being black
being American
being a woman
being...
i fear raising a murderer or the murdered, of spending the rest of my life scared of a shadow, or becoming one.
victimized.
they only regard our kind when we shake the grounds in anger, when our voices boom off the walls and translate into violence. we are marching Martins.
i fear my son carrying his struggles on his shoulders, doning a black cloak like his black hood.
i can't watch him die again.
no black boy should feel like dirt when their pigment is golden.
Sitting on that
****** excuse for a bed
I dreamt of a world
In four dimensions.

A world in which
Every version of ourselves
That had ever sat
And would ever sit
On that bed
Were there with us then.

And I heard and felt your
Hundred different
Heart beats
From those hundred
Different moments

I felt all of your life
And pure energy
Pulsing into the hundred
Different versions of myself
And suddenly
I understood
Why the heart
Is such a powerful metaphor
For love

Of course there were
Two hundred different laughs too-
Four hundred kissing lips,
A thousand
Whispered secrets.

But then slowly
All those different versions
Of ourselves
That had ever sat
And would ever sit
On that bed
Filtered out
In the order
In which they came in
Until eventually
Just the two of us
Were left

I was unsurprised
By the lack
Of future selves
But that didn't mean
The fact didn't dig into my skin
And make my heart beat
A little quicker;
A littler more urgent.
We haven't gone home yet;
but will we ever?
Will we bother with it?
Are we best left alone (lost)?
Keeping hushed and brushing
(away) each other's (troubles)
hair our of our eyes.
The heart only ever tries.
(and beats on until it dies)
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