#perceptions
For a moment I thought
it was a butterfly,
the yellow and orange leaf
that took flight from the swishing poplar tree
across my balcony.
It swayed and fluttered in excitement –
here and there, up and down,
undecided if right or left,
to the ground or up to the sky –
Should I stay or should I go?
What to make of perceived options
when you lose your wings to know
that gravity always wins?
And ultimately to the ground
with or without wings.
Jul 29, 2025
Jul 29, 2025 at 3:53 PM UTC
I did not like
What I saw in this
Mirror
So I changed
Mirrors
Jan 21, 2025
Jan 21, 2025 at 8:25 AM UTC
no awareness time
is meaningless as i think
random perceptions
Jun 7, 2024
Jun 7, 2024 at 5:24 PM UTC
See the world distinctly?
Pearls?
A kaleidoscope of memories?
Or lucidly look differently?
A beggar, or free from the constraints of Western reality?
New eyes take in all perspectives: perceptions,
Compelling new experiences: horizons.
Releasing shame; distorted distractions.
Embracing imperfections, peccadillos,
Layers of realities,
Depths, and
Rationalities.
Diversely.
Maturely.
Dec 6, 2023
Dec 6, 2023 at 12:45 AM UTC
you tell me
I am a flipper,
no I am not,
if I am loved right
I am a keeper.
Jul 25, 2022
Jul 25, 2022 at 2:01 AM UTC
You
See them
Not seein you
You don't see
You not seein
Them
Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 2:06 PM UTC
No thoughts to make you real,
nails clenching on my notions,
screaming without ears to hear,
perception of memories put forward
creation of scenarios torn,
oh to stop,
make myself physical,
contained within today,
to look once more,
no reasons beyond context,
you had to create a somber scene,
unsteady emotions drive hasten movements,
reasoning occurring in my racing mind,
you sank deeper into my thoughts,
fragmented comments make fuller picture,
pensive minds adhere these.
Jun 21, 2020
Jun 21, 2020 at 9:53 AM UTC
When i was young
My grandmother would always scold me
For wearing shorts
Or anything that's revealing my skin
She told me,
That there were demons who loves seeing girl's bareskin.
I was scared when i was little
But as i grew older
I learned that the demons
Were men with uncontrollable ****** urges
That take advantage of any girl they see
There's no such thing as demons
It is all human
Dec 25, 2019
Dec 25, 2019 at 1:35 PM UTC
God is comfortable with diversity
God sees straight
As well as crooked
Black as well as blue
God recognizes
And appreciates each of us
Who walk on earth
Think of another world
Where judging others
Rules the day
What does it look like,
Look around you
It looks like today’s world
Might perceptions change
Where people see each others
With total wholeness
Respecting others
While dropping away
The compulsion
To categorize
Might perceptions change
Might people view others
With wide-eyes
Accepting crooked and straight
Black as well as blue
And become comfortable with diversity
Oct 20, 2019
Oct 20, 2019 at 12:35 PM UTC
I know not enough words to weave you a beautiful story. The extraordinary sceneries, the overflowing emotions; I can describe neither. And you'd put me in a great deal of trouble and frustration if you ever ask me to describe life, for any words I speak will never equal to this – this undescribable journey. I long to tell you all the little things I notice everyday, how beautiful the scene outside my two by three window today. You, who constantly complain about the daily stresses you experience; I want you to notice the things I see. Why are you so blind to the lilies outside your window, brushing against it in an attempt to say hello? What about the sound of rain, have you never stopped to listen? You told everyone that you hated life, but don't you understand that life loves you, despite every insult you've ever thrown at her? If you ever ask me about life, I'll tell you so many more things. I'll be life's spokesperson, since you seem to be deaf to her cries. Perhaps you'll understand if I try to say these things out loud. But alas, I've never got a chance to do so, because you've never asked about life. But I suppose that one should ask my name first before one could ask about things like life.
Sep 27, 2019
Sep 27, 2019 at 12:09 PM UTC
Colour me in your mind
Am I vermillion red
or prussian blue?
Maybe a mix of the two?
Or just a hue
Of simple forest green
No wait, aquamarine
like an underwater scene
Deep and darkness within
Yet maybe you enjoy shades
that are bright
and they look so
under the sunlight
But true colours show
only under the grayest skies
to the most observant eyes
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 12:37 PM UTC
I'm younger and far left
He's older and far right
And he's my godfather
And I'm his godson
Long after I flushed the holy water down the drain
Our relationship has remained the same
I guess we're all somebody's child
And if we have to call him God than so be it
Because sometimes I wonder
If we didn't know each other
If he'd think I was a ******** ******
Or if I'd think he was a **** bigot
Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 3:53 AM UTC
Perceptions, like opinions,
are often set in stone.
Established like law of the mind
they are easy to create and laced with fallacy.
Even the widest gaze cannot see everything.
Through each strangers eye
a new “you” is manifested.
Thousands of “you” running through their minds,
but none of them are… you.
You are the master of your creation.
Based on your reality
you must adapt to cope with life.
For some the burden is less than others.
The spectrum of content and discontent
lay within the realm of perception,
and the inevitable unknown of external factors.
I once had a perception of self
too highly influenced by those around me.
Whose perceptions I foolishly held on to as truth,
for lack of a better understanding.
I self-destructed into everything
they wanted me to be.
Disingenuous and jaded
I shattered from the lie.
There is an unmistakable familiarity
with rock bottom
that I have grown to welcome as home.
The fall down is vigorous,
hitting the ground hard enough
to knock every molecule of air
out of your lungs.
You lay there breathless hoping that
perhaps this is the crescendo.
Once you decide to breathe again
you can rise up.
From the outside I am not a strong person,
about as average as they come.
I have an inexorable burden
that you cannot see.
Yet another perception
only I can perceive.
What I must do to appear normal
is utterly exhaustive.
Compile daily responsibilities of a “normal” person;
I have to sprint to compete with those walking.
In the shadows I can show the pain
but in the light I must remain in character;
an actor on a stage.
The endless mind acrobatics
twisting and pulling myself to fit this mold.
A mold I was never made for,
so it hurts to obey.
As much as it hurts, I remain silent
about the realities of it all.
Whilst I adapt to my environment,
you call me weak.
As I pretend I am not in pain,
You note I am behind.
I pour my energy into your sorrows
You consume, endlessly.
If I ask for this treatment in return
You point to my condition,
Note your perception of unsuccessful,
based on a reality
you’ve manifested
for me.
My reality is one only I can see
however, that doesn’t change the impact
of the failure nomenclature.
Comparing me to you or any other
encumbers my progress.
Your lack of understanding
is not my duty to teach you.
My façade is not for entertainment
it is for survival.
May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 10:24 AM UTC
Whistling, wandering in the twilight
Closed, forbidden, straining for light,
Longing for flight
Dreams that haunt,
Making the present oblong,
Give me flight, give me reign, give me freedom,
but oh so grave,
Equal parts fear, equal parts need,
Strange this devouring new greed.
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 8:06 AM UTC
If I am not to speak my truth
Then how must I speak?
With lies and deceit?
If I am not to speak my truth
Then how must I speak?
With silence?
Without words
Without hands
Without sound
Without the bumping of Braille
Should I speak the truth in a language you cannot understand?
But wait what could be more frustrating
Then speak with words you know
Yet,
Still,
Cannot understand
If I am to not speak my truth
Then what truth must I speak, but that of lies and deceit?
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 5:20 PM UTC
It’s spring
on the shore
near Isle of Palms
their toes dig deep
in wet sand
until shards of shells
fashion a strip
that challenges their soles
as they tiptoe forward
A faint-hearted rainbow
bridges sea to sky above
while they walk
along the wind blown shore
She sees the arch of colors as an omen
that love fades
like the bronze backs of teenagers
turn pale in autumn’s shadows
He regards the
vague glow
as a pristine promise
that their love will grow.
He attempts to link
fingers as a sign of endearment.
She smiles, swings her hands in rhythm
and quickens her pace before him
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 2:21 PM UTC
*****
Dot the i.
Cross the t.
If a *****
Is what
I need
To be
A *****
Is what
You’ll see.
Nov 25, 2016
Nov 25, 2016 at 8:36 PM UTC