"categorizes" poems
The professor said
"Family therapy is like a Pie Graph
Everyone in the family contributes their own piece of pie.
When people leave
there's a chunk of pie missing
and the other members of the family
have to take on some of those roles to fill the pie."
Here's my theory:
Everyone in the family has their own whole pie.
Categorizes each housemate as a piece of it.
how they view them in their family.
how they relate to them,
Imagine a home
Mom and her four daughters.
Step dad, his daughter and son.
imagine three bedrooms.
The adults taking up one of them.
let's look at the Mother,
Her four daughters
all with different fathers
she knows how to raise children.
The daughters all know how to
Be
Children, be
Sisters, be
older or younger than each other.
The step-father knows how to have
A Wife,
One Daughter,
A Son.
Well Step-brother leaves the house.
Susie has a child at fifteen.
what does
her pie look like now?
She used to have a boyfriend,
four sisters,
a mother, father.
Now lost a brother
gained a baby.
She only knows how to be a child.
let's look at the mother.
She hasn't learned: Grandchild
but she knows how to raise a baby.
lets look at the step-father, lost his son, gained four daughters,
what's another one?
The sisters, lost their brother, a role model.
Exchanged for this this new baby.
another sister?
everyone's pie is empty in some parts.
judging by some other
dead white guys theory
when who you are doesn't line up
with who you see yourself as,
that's when people develop
Mental illness
Well I wouldn't call it ill, but let's count the bruises.
That baby is going to grow up as her mother's sister.
Suzie is going to seek the comfort of men.
Her sisters are going to constantly fight between calling themselves auntie
and Big Sis.
like tossing themselves on either side of the barbed wire fence is cause for death.
The farther we go back in each family member's backstory
the more slivers of pie we find
Georgia has autism,
Carley diagnosed depression,
Rosie an abusive relationship of 10 years.
Clover is quiet.
The Brother, schizophrenic, autistic, bipolar.
Any number of names they can slap on him.
He doesn't live there anyhow.
isn't human.
Muffle the sister that says she miss him.
hit her, cut her, lock her up.
This was a case study.
I lived with this family for four years.
unintentionally filled up parts of their pie.
I was Son.
Older brother.
Boyfriend.
Father.
When I stopped being a fly on the wall
Stopped seeing how their story was developing.
I didn't have any pie left.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 1:25 PM UTC
There are many ways to break
a person down: whether persistence,
verbal or physical brutalizations.
The worst type, by far, is the quick
lash of the tounge. "That makes you
look frumpy..." Or "You've really gained some weight." Things she
categorizes and compartmentalizations
into foreign areas of the mind.
Weight is a shallow, low blow, she thought. However, the words slice
harsher than any insult she's ever heard. ****** Ugly ***** Lonely big girl. That's the garbage thrown to her.
What she needs is reassurance. Affirmations--pretty and pathetic--
that she should be comfortable in her
own flesh. The very body she breathes in and carries is the one to be loved.
Size 2 or 22, pants and dresses don't immortalize the true beauty of being. They don't capture the heart and soul. But most important of all, they have no ******* impact on the radiance one emits.
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 2:27 AM UTC
As a young Latino male,
I am looked down
as a gang member,
even when I have no
gang colors on me-
but wait, to them,
my skin is the only
color they need
to categorize me
as an illegal immigrant
that just had crossed
the border, and is affiliated
in a gang.
And if sticking up
for my people,
for my blood
categorizes me
as a "gang member"
then I do not know
what to tell you.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 5:36 PM UTC
I'm allowed to care here
the tears aren't ******
emotions can live here without any fears
no one categorizes everyone forgives
I'm allowed to care here
without being restrained
i am still breathing and i can touch you here
i can feel your pain and your passion
i can go beneath what you show the world and see the
deep down true you, the precious you, the emotional you
no filters, no judgements, no damnations
I'm allowed to care here
I'm allowed to feel you here
I'm allowed to be human here
thank you for meeting me here
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 1:26 PM UTC
Once upon a time in the lonely vacuum of space, the martian drew his telescope and observed the human race.
He stared in confusion as they created the first fire
dancing around it, with awe and desire.
-
Soon they built structures and created the concept of
"yours" and "mine"
Constructed shining gold tower to appease the divine.
Some got by off of what they could find, others denied sustenance to
enlighten the mind.
-
The psyche categorizes, loves, and despises-
Creating a logical framework, eliminating surprises.
Their ideas grew toxic and they created defining labels,
Some drank from silver spoons, others from the slavemaster's ladle.
-
Their gadgets surpassed the advancement of their brains,
they tortured others for information
electrocuted the "insane".
-
Men in decorated suits unveiled weapons of mass destruction,
the self-conscious folk invested in liposuction.
Killing machines with the efficiency of the wheel,
children losing their hands for contemplating to steal.
-
Now, the one's who preached for love and acceptance
were inevitably shot or beaten into repentance.
**** compromise, we have the hydrogen bomb.
What if insurgents had loving moms?
-
A single tear dropped from the martian's eye
as the end was near for his friends in the sky.
A violent altercation between brothers and sisters
was the epitaph of the blue planet
as it cracks and blisters.
-
Fading into space
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 5:52 PM UTC
Just awareness.
Thoughts too deep to be fathomed on the surface.
Such as "woman" which alludes mere objective reality.
It employs the heart, which gives only desirous and love thoughts, which even more so alludes singularity, but rather a memory of 10,000 women's pictures are categorized by the brain.
This in itself is taxing for any outer organization.
It is done by the brain by simply pulling out the latest woman on my mind.
The mind an old house of files and recordings which can't all be accessed, and when I write that the master of the house says "but here" and shows me a random memory.
Proving only that a random record can be accessed.
Why must love start to be forbidden by age differences, work settings, and lifestyle differences?
Doesn't love have any sense?
Her eyes are inviting and her body is youthful and vital.
A ripe peach.
The heart is so material, more than the brain.
The brain reasons, gives levels, and categorizes.
The heart simply loves.
It is sheer feeling.
The deepest seat of imagination.
Can she "feel my heart beating" in my wish that she was happy, that my love could be expressed?
Does she "feel the same, or am I only dreaming?"
The heart has such lasting imaginations.
They consume the attention and won't allow it to wander away.
The heart laughs because the eyes are mere spectators of the heart.
The heart says "I am reality".
It's more immune to observations, it is harder to change its interests.
My heart must cling to another heart every night, and my body sometimes adulterizes the heart I hold so dear.
I'm never alone in the imagination of the heart.
True love feels the same whether it is shared or not.
It makes the blood pump a little harder, and blush with joy.
The difference is its materialization.
Once love materializes the desire is met with responsibility.
The truest heart is the one that has consummated the least love.
Feb 15, 2021
Feb 15, 2021 at 1:42 AM UTC
Reality spoke with word of emphasizes
As I gazed into his eyes
He looked terrified
I felt nerves inside
The next stage of history he categorizes
As humanity idols and compromised
For the humans logic and reason
Was now seasoned by the serpent poison
The foundational truth of our existence injected with corruption
The heart motivated by evil inclination
The human race, universe, and earth
Were now under a curse
Unit the promised one will come
Things will get worst
After Adam and Eve had their first two sons
It became a conversational tradition
On how to honor the God of creation
What could and could not be done
One was a framer and the other a hunter
The yearly sacrifice need to be offered
One sacrifice fruits and the other a lamb on the alter
The choices to do what is right and wrong
Was now in their hands where it belongs
Not both offerings got accepted
The one who offered the fruit got offended
His jealousy led him to **** his brother
Into the ground poured forth his blood
Crying out for justice into the ears of God
He was judged and cursed as a ****** unit his days were gone
As men and women started to multiple
Their hearts were filled with evil
Angles lusted over the women’s beauty
To them, they came to sleep
And giants they conceive
The Creator was now agree
But there was one that found favor in His eyes
To him, he would speak
Noah was his name
Times and seasons were about to change
The Creator will share with him what was to come
He told Noah to build an ark and not delay
To take two of every animal and his family he would save
It was going to rain for forty days
And forty nights
The fallen angels were put into chains
For they taught the secret arts
To all plants and stars
Humans were never the same
For those that failed to listen to Noah
And not come into the ark would pass away
To be Continued..
Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 6:07 PM UTC