Firstly, I'm not a body-shamer.
To each their own
(a good phrase, though grammatically incorrect),
But sometimes I find it hard to understand
The tatoos, the piercings, the colors and placements.
The usual answer, if I dare ask:
     I'mhxpressthinmythelf.
Good for you.
Does the diaper pin through your cheek
Tell us you're a Dad or something.
     Na.
The quarter inch bolt and nut through your ear?
Are you a machinist or a plumber, or something?
     Na.
The doll-house plates in your lips?
Are you a Duck Dynasty fan?
A member of the Audubon Society or something?
     No. I'mapontingxprschmyselpth!
Sorry, what was that?
     I'mapontingxprschmyselpth.
I'm sorry. I don't quite get what you're saying.
I don't mean to be rude,
But could you express those plates for a minute... I... I get it.

We know it by the
Huge blinking lights
From rides that
Tend to make people
Throw
Up
Dairy Queen.

We know it by
Those big, intricate
Winding tatoos
That snake up the arms
Of half of the attendees
That have a message
That I can't read.

We know it by
Little children
Clinging,
Terrified,
To the hands of their
Irresponsible mothers.

And we know it
By inhaling so much
Secondhand smoke
That we're almost positive
That a little lung cancer
Has invaded our privacy.

We know it by
The Herndon Festival.

And we love it.

A collection of poetic tattoos
Permanent upon my heart
Fancy scripted verses
Beneath my chest
Illustrated hope
Penned deep
Artistic ink
Promised
Phrases
Of my
Love

"1)..You take your girlfrend. An go
clubbing,after you marry her you want to
stop her from clubbing.....my brother,you
think a miracle will happen??
2)...You have 8 tribal marks ,stretch marks
scattered all over your body,but you still
want tatoos......aahh my frend,are you a
zebra??
3)...You be 6 feet tall,you still wear 6 inch
high heels..my sister,you want to whisper to
God??
4)....You take pictures inside different types
of cars,yet you go say you are not a
cheater..aunty, are you a mechanic??
5)..You gather different pictures of girls in
your phone and you go expect your girl to
believe you are not cheating..abeg uncle,areyou a photographer??
6)...He gave you an engagement ring for over
5years but he never married you..my
dear,are you lord of the rings?
7)...You claim you ate pizza but you go *****
Polony and vetkoek..my friend,are you. a
magician??
8)...Your girl be licking ice cream but you be
drinking pure water.,.my friend,are you
diabetic??
9)..You are 18 years old and your sugar
daddy be 70 years old and you go call him
baby..aahh my sister,that one should be your
ancestor"

Hey, aren't you
That son-of-a *****
Whose mother jumped the wall.
Yea! You know who you are.
I spotted you hanging on the corner
Through the windshield of my car.
Were you talking conspiracy,
And planning your next job;
Dealing girls, drugs and guns,
Looking goth macabre.

You know who you are.
I saw you look right back at me
Through the side window of my car.
You were talking to your buddies,
I couldn't hear what you said,
I'm convinced it wasn't good,
By the tatoos on your head.

Yes, you know who you are.
You're still idley standing there,
In the rearview of my car.

This poem is for everyone who is reading it at midnight.
It's hard to be encouraging to you.
I'm writing this at midnight.
I can't sleep, either
The never ending rush of existence that lives inside of you,
I feel it
I feel it, too
At night I become a display case,
Showing everyone every shred of me
Every brutal scar that my clothing couldn't hide
Covered up by waking up
Or the clock striking seven,
Forcing another sleepless night
Slowly begining to fade the nightmares from before
Nightmares aren't dreams, they're memories
I show them on my skin like tatoos
All night,
I try and hand my consciousness to you
All night,
I try to convince myself there is a reason to wait for tomorrow
All night I face self loathing and terror
Every night I wish I weren't alone
Some nights,
I remember that I'm not

.slipknot's (sic) "vs."
  stone sour's get inside...

don't know,
sunglasses in the night,
beginning with a crescendo...

i'm pweetty sure that these
pro-life hags...
ever be presumed schizoid,
spending time with
fellow psychopaths
at some outskirt
London allotment...

     with a bunch of:
pick up, take elswhere,
    put down,
watch "it" dribble...
then expose itself
showing off a ******* *****...
and then,
a dave rubin,
finds it weird,
making an interview
with a pro-life advocate...
    well at least the mad
are not brain dead...
compared to these:
'here, by the grace of god',
wonders of the world.

sure thing, chief.

this, this...
pro-life advocate,
is going to suddenly turn around,
and play the priestly role,
of not being
the cabbage-kid caretaker?
really?
you know...
   when i was digging out
these potatoes,
i've seen more humanity,
when sheep were being
herded,
i've seen more humanity
when, even in their "claustrophobic"
setting laid eggs...
what i came across what:
wish you were in aushwitz
readied **** nurses...
about to shoot in
the back of the head
with these vegetable worth
of humanity...
    
        **** me, if they asked:
i would have brought an axe...
and this, pro-life chick,
so deluded from her experience
of the cabbage-patch kids,
well, sure as **** she won't be taking
care of these deviances,
will she?
                         it's somehow "life"
once the ***** passes the *******
"criteria",
    prior to? dead-tadpole...
something that would
resemble frog mating...

  people would rather prefer
petting three-legged dogs,
than any physical / mental
abnormality of humans...
   they would rather...
feel less of the "love"...
  and...
             squint at the spring blush
of a tomatoe...
         because people,
tell trimmed,
perfect nails...
expect others, to be "human"
when caring for the outliers,
like my grandmother said,
talking to an outlier
neighbour...
     so how do you feel...
with a heavily disabled child,
needing to express
his only ****** capacity,
you putting on the ****,
him jerking off...

while your healthy one
is roaming the rooftops,
readying himself to jump?!
i'm suicidal...
              claustro-**** or what?
like yahweh wasn't the purge,
the god of the purge,
against moloch?
    or beelzebub
                       or belial?

honestly, people who are pro-life,
don't even stratify in my screetch
at watching pro-life to its fullest
extent...

             cabbage-patch kids are far
from even hearing the arugment,
you have remnants of auschwitz nurses
herding them,
  i've see more tenderness
associated with herding sheep,
than what these people endure,
   and i call them "people"....
sure, the shape is there,
until the tongue and freelance
genitals come out with
a speech best associated with
onomatopoeia...

        it's always "pro-life"...
once you've made your argument,
and then did the Pontius Pilate
token of reply...
                    always the responsibility
of the argument,
but never, the responsibility
of the care...
              nice...

i've seen them, pretending to eat,
drool, strapped to what
euthanasia would have done
much simpler, ethically...
            you'd guess a *******
tapeworm would have more
existential focus to continue...

because... it's... not... supposed...
to... be... fun... or... easy...
              mind you, they're not kids...
30+ and almost brain-dead,
i've honestly seen humans
herd sheep with more humanity
than these, "people"...

           that's the "glorifying" aspect
of humanity,
it abhors abnormality,
i've been taught the lesson...
****** tatoos
over chernobyll birth marks
and subsequent scars...
   mediocre: rules!

              pro-life my *******
just became fused with a chilli-esque
rash...
        i wonder how it would fare,
if i just kept shooting blanks...
and women were shooting
out fertility,
   waiting for my shots of void...
would i "feel" less like
just doing a pol *** genocide
into a tissue...
more like: ******... better own that...

next thing you know,
you'll be placing your mortage
on a single roulette spin...

        i'm not laughing...
i know how the dichotomy of man
contra the inverted ontology
of nature prescribes relief
when subjected to the outliers...
it kills them off...

but these, petted,
prettied...
nail varnish....
   primmed hair...
       you think these arguments,
from these kind of people,
will solve the "problem"
of the cabbage-patch kids?
   ask me a different question...
like i said,
i've seen dogs treated with more
dignity to these half-brain-dead
outliers...
              and look how close
i'm standing on the ledge...

               hello england...
             hello the fwee wowld.

I watch men I do not know.
How they smile,
twitch,
scratch-
how the ***** steel bristles
cut through their cheeks and chins;
their tatoos
dull blue and grey
on sweat washed arms.
How they rub their hands,
push back their hair,
adjust their collars,
breath,
laugh,
belch.
I am looking for someone
I never knew.
I am looking for my father.
If he were near, I could not
let him pass by unseen, unfelt.

Meeting him,
I do not know what I would say.
hello
or
do you know me?
Maybe I would say nothing.
Maybe I would just sit and stare,
like a soldier,
seeing his own arm
****** and torn in the road,
wondering why the fingers don't move
when he tries to make a fist.

I am PRISSY
I am WINNING
I am a DAUGHTER
I am a MOTHER
I am a LOVER  ...a wife
I am ******  ...and I write it wink
I am a PROFESSIONAL
I am SILLY
I am BUBBLY
I am CURIOUS  ...but I'm no cat
I am SUSPICIOUS
Yet
I am TRUSTING
I am BEAUTIFUL  ...Inside and out
I am LOVING
I am FLAWED
I am PROGRESSING
I am KIND
I am MEAN  ...for a second If pushed

I'm only HUMAN with
Super Human capabilities
I am a BUTTERFLY
I am a STARFISH
I am a RARE FLOWER
Its name is YELLOW YHAMA

I have an ACTIVE IMAGINATION
I have LIVED
I have LOVED
I have LOST
I have GAINED
I have TATOOS  ...I want more
I have an alter ego named €HINA
My PROS outweigh my CONS

By day

I am Teyhama Harden

you can call me

"Butterfly"

amongst other things ...ADVENTUROUS!


~ButterFly εїз 2012 ©