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 Sep 2016 John Rameu
alexis hill
I've lost me.
lost that creativity
word savvy
bein able to write poetry

I've lost me.
my solitude is
so sweet more so
much more
than that cancer filling

my lungs from every cigarette
**** that just another habit
swallowed down the rabbit hole
entirely whole

I've lost me.
I got about a dollar in change
my wallets empty
I have no job or friends

no one to turn to
it burns through my heart
this beating drum
need some Xanax or a ******

not even running on
adrenaline just soaking up
the sun till it's
like a game:

who can burn the most
who can turn my stomach the most
who can learn from every lesson the most.

who can. who can, who can find me. for I've seemed to have

lost me.
 Sep 2016 John Rameu
alexis hill
However it begins, start off quiet
Then; it's gonna get louder
And louder.

This is how you write with power.

mix drinks, mix soul with attitude//
with empowerment
wrap it up in rhyme or rhyme it up
in rap
until it all becomes, sounds, and lives to be true.

Create persona's; flashy personalities
Political philosophies
like as if communism were the opposite of
democracy

Stop at some point in the poem-
Stop while they're jivin and movin to your words.
herd the unheard
jack lines. jack verbs.

This will give your poem
hesitation, a sense of urgency
and pause

Then of course a poem with power
contains anger

I have seen the disintegration
of dilapidated streets
gentrification

an educationally starved
third world nation

and make sure to speak with mastery of articulation
see, it's even spelt out in the constellations

making // placing sound waves upon deaf ears

Now, all you have to do
is lower your voice,
open your head
and say listen-

"This is the sound of the world changing,"

I said.
 Sep 2016 John Rameu
alexis hill
I am I...
I am the the right of the wrongs
that rubber cement
the name of the game
I add links to the chain
re arrange the brain.

I am I...
I come from the west and traveled to the east coast
I am the earth the universe and this globe

I am I...
I paradoxically transfix your mental state changing the frontal lobe.
I am the blood and the veins of this country the crescendo of the symphony

don't **** with me

I am I...
I am the fist of power
I am the topic of the hour
the dro and the sour
I am the dopest of the dope yo the most of the most.

I am I...
Praise me.
raise your cup to me first.
dream and reflect//project yourself into the sky

I am I...
I am the knots,
the intricate seams
at the end of the rope
the drugs in your veins the perfect acid dose.

I am I...
 Sep 2016 John Rameu
alexis hill
I was sitting on the ledge
that borders the outside of drumlin hall
and what if I just leaned back
what if I just leaned far enough
to
f a l l

would someone catch me
and I always think about this stuff

like today when I was driving to class
I thought why not just swerve the wheel left and gun it into the iced over lake
instead I kept 55
still alive in the right lane
still have a chest heavy full of pain

because I have a time frame
and stupid obligations like class and a degree
and the pursuit of making a life for me

head towards taconic hall
with grateful deads "ripple"
blasting through my headphones
droning out the noise and bustle
of all these people

in psych203
my ink pen runs out during the exam
so I shake it hoping it will write more
about the paradigm shift
and collaborative efforts.

I rack my brain for answers but
all I can think about is getting a different writing instrument

so my essay is half black and half white impression on the page
the product:
an interracial answer

head to Hudson hall for coffee
might save the life of me,
but instead I see that group of guys
who spew cat calls and looks of googly eyes sizing me up and down

veer left instead of right
to avoid shameful clowns

outside my breath makes
mist
outside my skin makes
for an unworthy protection against
the cold

so I hold ground
what would be up without coming down

say bottoms up
say stay ****** up
say upside down
say what comes around goes around

because as I tread on, some other girl
in knee high suede
is swamped by those kids.
 Sep 2016 John Rameu
alexis hill
she dreads conversation
because her tongue is tied
the judgement is so harsh
and she is caught up in cries

she dreads the truth yet begs for
honesty
but honestly...
what a mess
she's depressed

tangled up in her own
reality
so easily drifting
throughout life aimlessly

as if she brushes off every
apology
since they never meant it
anyways

she dreads coming home
to an empty house
she speaks out loud
the walls echo in response

a frayed representation
for the people
who come
and those who go

the people who she
once held onto

she dreads the strands
that she must pull apart
they tear and they shred
threads which had made up
her heart

she dreads the
future tendrils
regrets past curls
till her waves are tied

she dreads
because she's knotted up
inside
 Sep 2016 John Rameu
alexis hill
above the city
contemplating the ideation of love
drinkin brews on the skyline
cradling the universe in my palm
I'm not home but I am worldly
as this is mine

what I love about traveling
is that there is the option
an option to question life
that pondering on how forgiveness takes time
that resentment and irresponsibility
may not ever be forgiven
it is unfortunately untimely

that in all honesty,
not all can heal according
to ones hourglass

be patient
this world is all we get
there is not reset button
the chances- we get one

so if we question the potential of the world
why not question ourselves?
are we accountable?
have we already assumed our problems
our mistakes that vindicate who we are?

are we love?
do we use love as self defense instead of
a weapon as we wish?
how do we save each other knowing
that love is not a weakness
but the strength within us to reveal

our darkest secrets and our
lightest atonements
how do we tell the world that we want it?
and that we want the world to want us?

like, we the people
want the world wants us
like we
want the world.
 Sep 2016 John Rameu
Aly
First Word
 Sep 2016 John Rameu
Aly
I wonder where i would be ,
wonder if somehow or maybe.
Where the world would have took
I who was too afraid to look
would I be in space on planet mars?
be floating above, up there with the stars?

Look beneath the big blue waves
beneath the sand or inside the caves.
the sound of my heart lost to comfort
big in regrets and deeply encumbered
blue, it is stagnant in it's hollow
waves crashing against it ready to swallow

For I regret not having been curious.
I forsake the days i settled for less
regret not having followed adventure
not finding myself in the process.
having wasted my time with such adult ways
been ****** into their incurious gaze
curious was I before those days.

Myself, who are you, i will never know
who is this person who gave up on tomorrow
are all my hopes now gone like how curiosity left me?
you have given up hope to ever find glee?
I sit among the "what if" shadows
will I ever really find my purpose?
never will i get back the time I have lost
know I will make up for it at any cost

Everyday I will search not a moment I will waste
I will rush into the coming days with haste
will I have ample time to ever find me?
search I shall with all leniency.
not a storm so large will make me sway
a large pay check will not take me away
moment I find myself I will say
"I am greater than I am yesterday"
will I find what i am looking for?
waste no time I am ready for more.
Thank you
 Sep 2016 John Rameu
Genevieve
Panic
 Sep 2016 John Rameu
Genevieve
The panic is setting in.
It started in my ankles,
Shivering its way up
To the sweat on the back of my knees.

Creeping,
Crawling up my thighs in goosebumps
Chills.
It reaches its slimy, mangled claw
U
P
And clenches my stomach,
Digging into my diaphragm
And pulling down.

Breaths turn fragile,
Like butterflies taking flight
Light
And shallow.

The panic
Has set in.
Home life is getting interesting.
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