"complexed" poems
I wear the letters NYU sprawled across my chest as my individuality is asphyxiated.
Lungs choke under the weight of the added pressure.
The thought of college plus my complexion,
Equals complexed looks that ponder my intellectually-heightened direction.
Will you think a little bit more of me, with my conformity?
Attempts to better myself meet enough ignorance to even cloud the vision of God.
Segregation and alienation cause mental spasms the strength of lightening rods.
I guess you're just a product of the environment to which you were exposed.
But I'm always trying to fight the stereotype that black people are ultimately foes.
I am the ant and the kids of rich parents are magnifying glasses.
Cremating me with the solar power of son's who were taught that their existence was worth more than mine.
I lay motionless, in bottomless quick sand pits, itching to alleviate my stomach stitch, engulfed by set standards that could not be met.
I am tired of trying to be what you'd like to see.
Astute, respectable, young black man-just so you can approve of me and hopefully think that we are not all "up to no good."
Say it loud,
I'm black
And I'm,
Not going to lie,
The proud part is kinda hard to say.
Because I walk down the street and see my face in the homeless everyday.
I fill the prisons and I'm famous when the news reports crime.
And when I show up early to interviews,
they look confused to see that I,
Don’t run on Colored People's Time.
I don't hate black but I hate the fact that black means that sometimes I have to find alternate routes to success.
While other people's roads are already paved, I suffer from all the stress.
I try my best but I'm always categorized as less, then a man.
And I'm trying to change perceptions but I still feel like a visitor on American land
And the poor are physically trapped so I relate mentally.
We both suffer from the oppression and accept the hatred like it was meant to be.
Society has led you to believe that blacks are not worthy of equality
But take a long, hard look into my eyes and tell me that you don’t see my humanity.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 1:42 PM UTC
I hope she knows what she's getting herself into.
I hope she knows what your heart sounds like after a night of
comparisons between her handwriting and mine.
I want you to know that I am through with dumbing
myself down to fit inside your god complexed hands.
Don't tell me I never tried to save us.
I wrote you songs with knives on my palms
and your ears were anything but listening.
I had a dream about you every night since you told me
you didn't know how to love anything with a heartbeat and hope.
I started sleeping again when you came back, and oh when you came back...
I am not sorry that my temper is as short as the lifespan of us.
I am not sorry that your smile is the only one that ever made me
want to wake up in the morning.
I am all pain and long long longing and she has always been
a storm with a heart dead set on your stillness.
Our problem is that I never stop shaking long enough for the dust to settle.
I've been writing with the same pen for four years and
you still only recognize my words when she plays them back.
Let it not be confused, foggy or incomprehensible-
you were the one.
Until the one became none and I stopped being a number when you stopped counting miles.
I hope she loves harder than a woman with dementia, relearning parts of you every morning
in the places you reserved with my first and your last- maybe next time.
Maybe next time, maybe next life will be different.
Maybe I'll be patient, stronger, I'll stop covering my smile. You'll stop pretending to be in love.
I will stop shaking and the dust will settle and her poetry will make you sick.
Her poetry will sprout evening primroses and she won't know that you always fall asleep before midnight
or that you're allergic to flowers that bloom when the sun is down.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 8:55 PM UTC
Eyes do speak.
It's funny how they perceive the things around.
The broken conversations heard by fully complexed ears.
I believed that I'd be ok.
The conclusions that eyes draw.
Never making sense of the words heard.
I believed it to be my biggest mistake.
Falling for the beautiful images seen.
Following sight, my first love.
Pain is often beautiful, layered one color after another.
The stories that unfold given enough time.
The initial cause and effect, forgetting the love immortalized before anything
was ever heard.
The intimacy that eyes will only understand/
Speak to me and I'll fully understand.
She'd never been in love.
I gazed intensely
Still I pursued
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 10:31 AM UTC
Sad to say
Hope wasn't enough,
there was a thousand words battling in her mind
but her tongue remained numb
Deep into the late night hours
She hugs her pillows
and paint them wet
Realizing her existence in this world is inane and all her ways are complexed
Yet,
She was forged this way
An unbalanced scale of life
She was forced to stay
Agony of her loneliness brought penetrating pain
She cried even through the sunshine
Lived depressed during the rain
Whips from life's battles instilled on her frame
Perfectly tattooed on her skin
Innocence robbed from her before the age of ten
Those hands exploring her body never got approved
Scars and words of abuse was all she was accustomed to
From minds of the ones she loved
Grew extreme curious
Too see what lies inside of a woman for deliverance
Nights she cried tears that refuse to come
Glands denying the tears and sufferings that attempted to form
Rejected
The torture and sorrow in the glass of her reflection
Taught her venom which she perpetually spat at the girl in the mirror
Her thoughts was her MRSA, constantly eating her away
Rug burns implanted on her knees from all the nights that she prayed
Her life felt more painful than being engulfed into flames
Disgust boiled in the bottom of her stomach, just from hearing her name
No one understood her pain
No one even knew
Of all the dirt and infidelity her poor soul was drug through
Knives met her hands
Many nights she felt tempted but was too weak to stand
She'd rather fall
Full possession of her extremities but,
She rather crawl
into a deep dark cave
Than to reside in this World and become its slave
She was just a little girl
Dwelling in purity
A lost wandering soul
No form of security
For those who are believers and have even only a mustard seed of faith
Please
Pretty please
Remember her in your hearts
When you go to God and pray
Copy Right 2013
©Patty Ann
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
The nightfall smears a biding shade and plume
as Nyx complexed the clear diurnal day
and skews the stoic lensing out of gloom
alike the hearted Eros, wrought his sway.
How still the specks of frost on balm and reed
like stars arranged in view for crystal eyes,
and glazed upon the tips; a sweetened mead
which lovers strive in truthful, purple prize.
A sullen stratus coats the idle orb
succumbs the amber beams to patchy lure,
and from within uncertain skies absorb
a kindred duel; dreamers must endure.
Tonight, the morrow, all thereon to be
to ardors flux; at night is when to see.
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 2:57 PM UTC
Fresh like a breeze along the beaches of caribbean seas,
squeezed orange juice on early mornings in champagne glasses.
Fresh like a bald cut on a Marine, Navy seal
or even the old man down the block keeping it real.
Fresh like a baby in a womb, car smell, new perfume, dorm rooms,
or anything that seems cool.
Fresh like a new pair of J's,
or even a basketball player even better than Kobe when he plays.
Fresh like a girl opening her legs for feelings of ***********
or even teenagers using proactive for there pores.
Fresh like tired of saying fresh like
I'm the best right, lyrical lights
infested blood, Z Type.
I know its wack but I try my best,
to even contest with poetry,
complexed not even a inch of talent flowing in me.
My enemies telling me that its real
still there scrolls are sealed,
lying to keep my lips sealed.
They laugh behind my back
giving false facts, about me laying down wax
to keep my rhymes charged to the max.
Instead I walk on tacks bare foot open toes
its a lie to tell the truth why should I even appose.
I received a broken nose mentally
foreseeing scripts critically
AM I FRESH I GUESS NOT.
More of a plot to leave me blind,
terrorist worst then Sadam
aligned to lock my mind
I look at myself below divine.
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 9:48 PM UTC
you paint a picture with words
speaking out just to be heard
you think yout fooling me but i've known all along
your everything you say you are
except one thing
strong
your weakness shows as you string me along
i try to believe you
but deep insidee i know you are wrong
wrong about being right
yeah its a complexed contradiction
but what else should i expect
with someone that mixes fantasy with nonfiction
so mirror mirror on the wall
its about time you crumble and fall
and amidst your broke shards of glass
come to realize the past has passed
dwelling in broken memories
your drown in your thoughts
tangeled up in emotion
afriad to admit your caught
like a spider you spin your web
parallel to the cycle spinning in your head
on your worn out path you continue to tread
i dont even know what it means to be
without you
because your always haunting me
taunting me
drawing me into your cycle
its time i break free
so mirror mirror on the wall
its about time you crumble and fall
and amidst your broken shards of glass
come to realize the past has passed
turn over a new leaf
dont look back
or stop in your tracks
determine myths from facts
begin to act
like the adult you are coming to be
look from an outer perspective
begin to see
clearly now
come to think about it
i dont know how
i believed in your self doubt
so mirror mirror on the wall
its about time your shatter and fall
and amidst your broken shards of glass
come to realize the past has passed
come to peace at last
and realize
that despise
isnt a comprimise
when it comes to fate
and that hate
isnt the only way to demonstrate
your emotion
lifes as vast as the ocean
and always in motion
changing with the tide
so swallow your pride
learn how to recognize
a blessing in disguise
end where endings end
after that
begin
know yourself deep within
submerge to the surface of conciousness
and listen
to the voice within
yeah thats really livin
so mirror mirror on the wall
its about time your shatter and fall
and amidst your broken shards of glass
come to realize the past has passed
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 8:36 PM UTC
Holy hell,
this show is insane,
riveting, complexed, nuanced,
compelling, captivating, addictive,
he proclaimed
on Snapchat, Twitter, Facebook,
wondering where the days went,
wondering what unforeseen abyss swallowed him whole.
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 1:58 AM UTC
The rain came down in sheets that night
Thunder, as lightning split the sky
In that flash of light I saw you at my door
Your tear filled eyes glistened in a dark.
You want it darker?
Whistles of the wind through wires as
Rain knocked agains the windows of my room
Glass of wine in candle’s dancing light
Drama of the one you left behind.
You want it darker?
Your story was so incredibly complexed
In the way of pain inflicted perfect storm
How the one you love - left you broken
Hurting, at my door, looking for revenge.
You want it darker?
With every kiss our friendship’s dying
With every teardrop revenge was growing hotter
No love can heal the pain we’re causing
As we fell lower our fury burnt brighter.
You want it darker?
Like stars on a cloudy night
My true feelings were hiding in a dark
I couldn’t even look you directly in your eyes
Cause through you I was making love to her.
You want it darker?
Agonizing pain of self Inflicted cuts
Hearts drained of passion, dying fast
We both knew that you’re in love with him
I’m still in love with fading light of her.
You want it darker?
Like waves crashing agains a shore
I felt your pain collide with mine
Eyes wide shut as we reached out to touch
In our minds we wanted the ones that we were not.
You want it darker?
Dying candles flicker in a rays of raising sun
Lifeless hearts, falling out of lovers grasp
I used the blood for ink to pen this poem as
Angels wept in sheets the night before.
You want it darker.....
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 7:30 PM UTC
Ride or die
I try to survive
And remian vibrant
But they smear the lines
Blurring my life with things
Set against me
Making negetive things
Represent me
So ride with me
On this voyage
To the netherworld
Die with me in this world
So we can live happy in the next world
Be my right hand when there's nothing left
When my time is next
When our way of life is two complexed
Stay with me when my morale is exhuasted
My pain is extensive,
Visions of my death are vivid
Ride with me, Die with me
Let the two coinside
Our bond be tight
Twisted and intertwinded
Until our minds combine
Bring your heartbreak
I'll bring my pain
We can ride with eachother
Until the end of our days
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 7:07 PM UTC
When I tell my little sister I got a pet mouse
She's asks "why didn't you get a hamster like a normal person?"
Her voice poisoned with disgust
When the guy at the pet store says he didn't expect me to be a snake person
Says he didn't expect to sell a mouse to someone like me so quickly
I know he means little girl, breakable woman
Little girls are not supposed to be into snakes and scraped knees and oversized tshirts
But I, I always have been
And yet my friends who have the best intentions
Tell me if people saw my accessories they'd never assume I'm queer
But they don't say queer they say gay
But I'm not gay
But I'm not straight
And I keep teetering between too much and not enough
Always in this heat of this new game
And I was never taught how to play
I was never given a rule book to my gender
To my sexuality
Because they never tell you how to be in between
I never correct people when they mislabel me in one way or another
Because I've learned people hear what they want to believe
It means I will be wasting the already fleeting breath in my lungs
To explain something to those who will never embrace it
My gay friends debated over whether bisexual people are actually gay in front of me
And wondered why I walked out of the restaurant
They didn't see the lava bubbling with anger and shame at the back of my throat
I cannot even call myself bisexual
Because that implies too gendered
That implies too simple
For my hopelessly complexed identity
I find myself somewhere on the border
And some days this body serves its purpose
Other days it is violently trying to escape itself
Not quite enough to mention to anyone but me
Not quite enough to matter to anyone but me
But I see these binaries as a prison
And most days it seems like I am in solitary confinement
Too much, not enough
Always in between
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 11:33 PM UTC
Just happened to glance a pretty girl out there,
Bathed in tattoos, sitting in my bookstore.
I loved the way she looked, knew that i adore
That blouse, the chest, stuck sadly in her wheelchair.
Was it her fragility that made her fair?
Her curly hair complexed and tied trojan war,
A warrior on wheels, stare full of ignore,
Her name came to me in the air, it was Claire.
So unfair, a devastating joke from god.
Beautiful despair, her hand clutching the steel,
As she reads some more titles that came off odd.
A goddess, half man - half machine, you're ideal,
My heroine handicapped and neatly flawed.
Claire made me forgot my own Achilles' heel.
Jun 19, 2019
Jun 19, 2019 at 6:02 PM UTC
i wish i could
string my phrases
together with
a lace of
simplicity and
modesty.
but i am
complexed
by you.
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 6:29 PM UTC
What if clouds fell down from skies
and stars were 1,000 degree shining meter orbs aligned to target earth?
As much things we've done theres no benefit from just one good deed
we are all indeed doomed turned ashed in tombs not even able to continue our spiritual quest.
We described ourselves as complexed individuals
obessed with visuals same *** a changed *** to run away from reality then run dead into a brick wall.
Theres many questions unsaid and many great minds having to weep because blood shed is enough said from a death note a quote saying hes better off dead,
its not about mixed relations or faded retaliations this was all planned a real hunger games seen eye to eye through many nations.
Thats why hip hop is where it is today it hid way too many years in the shade now it finally reveals that a once strong culture is manipulated and turned gay.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 9:07 PM UTC
full, so full and effervescent.
overflowed by my creator despite my will to hold or withstand the contents.
ever trickling for you although I harden my spout
simply purposed yet complexed by morality
oh so full, so effervescent, pray my spout never shy from Providence's one true will.
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 10:40 PM UTC
A complexed fusion.
Complicated with confusion.
A foggy & dazed delusion.
False accusations.
Mere assumptions, no amusements.
Senseless movements.
Defiled improvements.
Stubborn sunshine that is not yours or mine.
Youth can't pause or rewind.
Unfading beauty doesn't wither.
Breath taking chill which shivers.
True loves kiss is never delivered.
Sunshine sets, the present regrets.
A wedding I never get.
A hatred you can't forget.
A destiny unescaping, mind ******
An existence slow & scraping.
Only remembered from videotaping.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC
This complexed mind
with it's idle paint set
don't you see people
he is already dead
I am not brave
nor do I care to be a hero
I am already dead
and mean to be a zero
Part please my company
for I am already dead
try to work it out
get it though your human heads
Yes I am already dead
broken and tortured by me
look how **** poor I am
I have no pulse, don't you see
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
By NeonSolaris
© 2013 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 6:07 PM UTC
Fall in love with a girl who loves the Galaxy
She daydreams of being apart of something
so complexed, so beautiful
something much bigger than herself
Fall in love with a girl who loves thunderstorms
She's haunted by something
so gloomy, so frightening
something that cries and screams for her
Fall in love with a girl who loves sunny days
She's immersed in something
so happy, so bright
something she can't waste until dusk
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 2:25 PM UTC
I am creative, not coordinated.
I am complex, not simplicated.
I am dark, not illuminated.
I am here, not alienated.
I am a now, a dark, a complex and a creative poet.
Beware if you are afraid of the dark and watch your step as you leave.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC
She's the thought that occurs in my mind.
The one that shows up without warning.
A gallon of gasoline, a handful of matches.
The spark that ignites there is brighter than anything
I've ever seen.
Setting fire to anything that isn't her.
I couldn't have saved myself If I tried.
Watching everything reduce to individual piles of rubble.
Shes recklessly chaotic.
Perfectly complexed in the way that she stands.
Striking the head of the match on the bottom of her heel.
There she stands watching everything burn.
Covering herself with my faults.
There she warms her heart by the fire.
Stoking the fire with old memories.
Slapping my hand each time I reach for one.
She's that one thought that asks me to hand her more matches.
Paying no never mind to if she's burned herself or not.
Dousing everything in gasoline that surrounds her.
Her reply to everything.
Revealing a devious grin, extending her hand for more matches.
Theres no doubt in my mind that she's a devil disguised in angel wings.
Roasting her halo over the fire,
Soon to press against me.
Branding me with her everlasting essence
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 3:17 PM UTC
exercising my mind,
challenging restless muscles.
heart vibrated in rhymes
body couldn’t comprehend.
feet marched distressingly
upon restless pavement.
concrete incinerated
between fatigued toes.
soul and humanity battled
a complexed imprisonment.
Appalachian was a battle ground,
that planted my fortune.
i twisted my cramped fate,
encountered an extraordinarily
individual wandering around
an disfigured realm.
discovering inner strength,
forced oxygen to pursue my stride.
demanding my determined breaths,
to encounter pulsating freedom.
Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 9:26 PM UTC
remember when you we set out towards Arkle
started out
you were both young the sun shone and the air
and a little naive was sweet
you got your first house we made easy work of
reaching the summit
you made it your home the view poitively exploded
in scale
then children came along but once on the ridge the wind
picked up
life became a little more and walking became more
complexed complicated
but you held their hands we had to hold on to every rock
yet each decision carried concentration was paramount
a lot of weight
as you raised them with every decision mattered
heart and soul
ironically they weren't
children long eventually the wind subsided
they had established their
own identities and we wended our way back down
before long they had
their own lives to enjoy the pleasant walk back
to the road
then you look back on life's
long road and ask yourself? as we look back to the castellated
ridge so high and way back in
the distance
did we really raise a family? we ask, were we really up there?
It all seems so long ago now. It all seem so far away now.
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 3:18 AM UTC
Haven’t written in a while.
Haven’t listened in while.
I’ve been missing,
you’ve been missing,
we’ve been missing for a while....
Trek, trek, trek.
CAVE, CAVE, Cave.
Home...home.
Alone.
Swim and sink, eat and drink
think and think...
another drink, drink, drink.
I feel every part of this. Resistance is futile. I embrace it now as it changes my many faces. I feel the old fade with the oxygen that leaves my tomb. Beauty is a thing of the stars now; a bunch of pretty lights I’ll never be able to touch....it seems. My world has shrunken but is now far more complexed...since I have grown into a smaller being. My life is beyond pleasure and pain now....
How is it that my mind expands more
and I understand less?
I no longer imagine life
but I clearly invision death.
Worst feels like my best.
Bliss feels like my stress.
“That’s only The Devil” they say,
but I know I’m apart of the blame.
“Pray about it. Ask God for guidance”
I have yet to call His name.
I fall asleep in the dark
and awake in the same.
There’s a man in the mirror
my reflection feels estrange.
I write because it’s apart of my fight. It’s when I feel the strongest. It’s been quite some time since I’ve done this. I died. I’m still dead....I’m just alive this time.
#CAVECAVECave.
Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 7:20 PM UTC
****
Where do I start. How do I start, knowing that I can never find the perfect words to express every single little bit of emotion and the billion thoughts that run through the messiest brain to exist- mine. Yes I believe I have the most complicated brain in this whole entire universe or maybe I share this same belief with few other beings, competing to win the title of having the worlds messiest brain.
Having just experienced one of the many **** cramps oh and probably the first of the year, I have to say that I am in great pain and anxiety. My toilet is occupied by my mom and will continue to be for the next hour. Many things go on in the toilet. I hope I don’t **** my pants. Have I found myself? or maybe I jumped to that question way too fast. I have come to a realisation that I haven’t been feeling like myself lately. My mind, body and soul has been disconnected and ta da we have disorientation, constant questioning of self identity, a whole lot of self loathing, uncertainty, lack of emotions and the list goes on.
I am now on the toilet bowl and very much thankful for the spicy and alleviating whiffs of cigarette smoke taking over the pungent odour of- I don’t need to go any further do I. I have always felt like a TMI person and sometimes I see that as a negative thing but is it really? What is so bad about exposing oneself and only letting the world know the truth? Do we have to act a certain way in which we don’t address the smallest things that bother us and pretend we are all fine when our wedgies are killing us! Quite tired of putting up a ******* front!
The pitter patter of rain and petrichor helps to calm the discomfort of my stomach ache. The result of consuming large amounts of chocolate and milk on a cold rainy day. This is the start of something new or perhaps something that I have lost. My ability and nature to write my thoughts down. Something so simple yet complexed. Have I hid my innermost feelings these pass few months or maybe...what I have done might just be the scariest thing. Deflecting my feelings and the truth then proceeding to believe the lie I had been telling myself all this while.
Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 11:14 AM UTC
Your words conform my foolish thoughts.
Words however do not necessarily express emotions
our conversation echoes through me,
messes me up as spells and potions would.
our love is as weightless as gravity
as simple as the most complexed thesis and
As true as the hallucinations a sickly person would have.
denial and deceit line our relationship
as the tiles on a house would.
Yet rage and love coexist
like how man and women do.
The words you pose to me are ugly
still the words that come from your soul are beautiful.
Something you wrote from the past rings through me
and so i'll bring it up personally.
"she leaves again acquiesced in the pain,
a broken heart shattered by sophistry.
in fury they part their love
condemned to history."
Now looking at this I ask,
if you knew what would happen.
why didn't you prevent it?
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 7:34 AM UTC