When I was younger, I used to stare into my mirror
and see not the yellow of my skin
nor the slant of my eyes.
I used to see a cop
a robber
sometimes a Power Ranger or Pokemon trainer.

When I grew older, I was still blind to me
but they were not. They saw the yellow of my skin
and the slant of my eyes
the black of my hair
And for the first time.
So did I.

I heard the ching chang chongs
and wondered what it meant
and if it meant anything at all.

I learned years later that it meant nothing.
It held no translational meaning to those whom it may have applied
but to me
to them
it meant that I did not belong.
I would not belong.

When I was younger, but somehow older,
I was taught that I was different.
I was taught that I would never be the same
and to keep my head from being crushed by the
waves of their learned behaviors that I had to be the same
as everyone around me but I was taught that I was different.

And that it wasn't only skin deep.

-trj

Grasp roots you've always had,
the ones self made,
and eternally contain.
Never let insecurity get in your way.

Remember,
embrace yo snake
let your gold permeate
all things you care to create.
Stick to your few traits,
don't do too many drugs man made,
dance in the cliche fingers of rain,
sing with blood to release pain.

Listen with your heart,
review with your brain,
never filter vulnerable art,
know the best isnt always sane.
Allow the moon to light your dark,
absorb the motion of waves.

Baby, this is it,
the beauty of self acceptance.


Author: Unknown,
cause these things I write down might be me,
but also just some soul speaking through my wings.

Consider poetry
& all of its complicated forms.
Then strip it
of all rules and restrictions.

Now, consider the subject matter.

Free verse
would not be free enough
for the words I would choose
to describe
what I would like to do to you.

Maybe these types of instincts
weren't meant to be cheapened
with velvety phrasing
& sumptuous language.

You see,
I have this hypothesis
that poetry
would be just as effective
translated into raw action.

(They really should have
shipped me off
to the nunnery
when they had the chance.)

But they sent me to college instead—
where I learned
how to properly test
my hypotheses.

**Hot ****, do I love research.