"confronted" poems
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities...
*that's all any man wants,
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
who knows the when and why of differing
cuddling styles...
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
who knows when to leave a man alone
alone in his man-mourning time,
distance needed,
letting his ex-rage dissipate or
watching his red and blue football
redefine ignominy...
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
that when the man low whistles, eyes adrift,
she heartily agrees and is
reciprocity rewarded regularly
with hunk alerts of
"hey-check-him-out!"
that's all any man wants,
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
a tigress in the bedroom
she asking, try this, I'll love it,
served with a desert demo of awkward afterward,
his less-than-perfect cuddling abilities
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
who doesn't abhor partner silences,
comforting they are, in their own ways,
lying side by side, interrupted only by peccadillo body noises unexpected and
sheepish apologies and loving arm stroking
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
who lets the man roar, top of voice,
when imprisoned in car,
his voice, un enfant terrible,
performs with Creedence Clearwater
a sing-a-long in traffic, asking
"Have you ever seen the rain"
while amidst Israel-leaving-Egypt
Sunday beach traffic on the L.I.E.
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
when it's pheromones alternative mode day,
he celebrates Carole King day,
she demonstrates her cuddling abilities,
par excellence, with kisses and tissues
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities...
a woman, plain confident in her abilities
no matter the situational status,
when confronted by
less-than-crazy-impetuous,
she smiling says "why not,"
when he proposes,
a movie and dinner in a fav haunt?
"plenty excellent enough" her answer,
spoke in a rising voice
full of unfeigned delight
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
accepting the unexpected airport embrace
on a moving sidewalk, unexpected delays
with the aplomb of a well lived life's
long term sustainability perspective
when he kisses her hand for no reason,
while driving 75 miles per hour,
she only winces internally,
the other hand vise-grasping
the other door's handle,
who brushes hair wisps in a dark movie,
celebrating her Bathsheba Everdeen's
duality of strength and tenderness
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
that when on second date he proposes
a non-exclusive relationship,
confident enough to high-five respond,
and laugh about it,
seven years on
a woman, confident in her cuddling abilities,
that when she reads it,
analyzing the oeuvre as
"too **** personal and
as usual
too **** long"*
that's all any man wants,
a woman, confident in her
cuddling abilities
in everything...
even a little occasional criticism
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 10:45 AM UTC
Stereotypes are a commodity
Stereotypically
My childhood should be filled with only happiness
Happiness because of my color
No struggle
Struggle should never have confronted me
Never should have shown me how to survive
Or how to better myself
Because me being me I realize
I realize the uneducated hide
Hide behind stereotypes the unconsciously enforce
Enforcing by proving the statistics and stereotypes
Statistics and stereotypes that have to have an origin
If you judge me by stereotypes
You will fail to realize
The stereotypes you fight to uphold
will never define me
I will succeed not because of my color
Or because of a stereotype
I will accomplish my goals
Only because I refuse to let others limit
The excellence I can achieve
By pushing stereotypes that hold hardly any truth onto me
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 10:41 AM UTC
There's a mermaid that waits under the sea,
she waits in hope that a brave soul shall surrender to her and in doing so she'll rescue them in return and embrace them into her watery world.
The sea belongs to The Mermaid, she's delved the underworld, lives for discovering and has left the surface for those that are not ready to meet her yet.
Maybe it's part of her enchanting beauty that she is always so immersed in the intensity of the water,
the darkening depths of the sea, her own emotions, the womb of her world giving sustenance.
In my curiosity to go deep into the abyss I met The Mermaid and there she asked me to plunge to the depths of the sea with her.
The water was no longer blue, the rays of the sun no longer illuminated,
it was cold and dark and I knew that I could just about reach the surface of the waters again to leave, but I also knew I'd done that many times before.
I begin to sink but apart of me still resists,
my legs slightly kicking and my hands unsure as I struggle to know what to do.
'Let go' -I hear The Mermaid echo through the water,
her patient voice holds me, I feel safe but still I'm in conflict with all that I'm confronted with above.
My mind continued to battle here as my body naturally slipped down some more,
the deeper under water I went the more everything felt still.
I felt The Mermaid on the periphery,
in a distant part of me I think she's always lived, I've just not been able to trust in her.
Everything feels longer underwater,
time isn't of importance once you've abandoned your anxious breath.
you begin to feel apart of it all,
as though you're a small ripple of an imperminant wave and an untameable current bound into One.
This place feels like I've been here forever now, it's so cold it actually begins to feel warm. The deeper I allow myself to sink the less I seem to contemplate. The less I struggle to let go the more peaceful I feel and the deeper I slip into the unknown the closer I get to her.
I soon reach the bottom, the deepest place I can go and here I meet her where I always knew I would;
It's too dark to see so I wait in the unknown for her to show herself but she didn't appear outside of me, in fact she spoke through me and with my own inner voice I heard ...'If you do not connect to the depth of yourself then you'll never know how you really feel. Just as a Mermaid swims so deep she can no longer see.. You must swim too, even when It's dark and scary and you might not even know what you feel or you feel too much and you feel as though you're drowning.. You must trust. Trust in yourself beyond anything and you shall always find your treasure here...
...There's a Mermaid that waits under the sea,
she waits in hope that you shall meet here and to see without having to see. <3
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 9:24 PM UTC
Gracefully swaying in the wind with branches stretched out far and wide. The Willow tree whips too and froe. Dancing in the breeze, giving way to the force of nature. It shows how to overcome adversity. When confronted with the storms of life, you must learn to bend but not yield. As the Willow that is firmly rooted, so must you be. Carried through the tumultuous Gale. Tossed and tried, but in the end coming out the other side. Having weathered the storm. Though a few branches may be broken , the roots that hold you firmly in place are in tact. As the Willow so must we be, in order to survive, recover and grow beyond what ever storm life may send our way.
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 11:27 PM UTC
Eros will never agree with
The way you ****** your *****
To this ****** Screams and
Scratches, moans and murmurs
Of pleasure and pain, devoid of
Reason, embellished with passion.
Seasons of lust and burn, slash
And turn, tides of libido that has
No way to subside. You worship
This body at the altar of pretensions.
Hoping that even the gods through
The oracles, will speak to you in the
Language of mortals, and will bring
You some cataclysmic eruptions of
Heaven and hell. Will is nothing to
You unless confronted by contentment,
And sealed with chastisement.
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 10:01 AM UTC
a light at the end of the tunnel
is the freedom
in the words I type
Where would I be
without the steady click
of my mind laying into the soft
caress of a screen, as for paper
it's insolent and my pen it ran out of ink
The lines I draw, are only in my mind
as I've seemed to have misplace the valley where the dead rest
The tangible object where many of writers have left their soul
The pages where have they gone ?
The smell, and the history, all here in this screen
A bird sits at my window sill as if waiting for me
to deliver some sort of message
she will fly and soar and anyone who lays on her will know
that I couldn't deliver the message I was told to write
I couldn't jump over to the other side
I couldn't make it through the forest without becoming more lost
I didn't try hard enough, I let fear take hold.
I wanted so badly to become
The one,
the one you all need,
but the tree's they laid witness
to trial after trail of failure
laid between the click of a keyboard a new generation
of the vessel that we use to pour our souls into
my thoughts captured before my eyes and
just one click and you will all see
and maybe you will feel the failure I carry
the failure i've never confronted myself with
a perfectly honest revelation
of how I failed you all,
of how I couldn't jump,
of how I let the fear of the pain
get in the way of the success of a champion.
Now I'm in my room feet firmly planted in reality and i still
feel the fear
I still feel the self doubt
the feeling that no matter how many times I jump
i'll always fall short
I'll never make it to the other side
I'll never be a person solidified in a vessel
whose soul was felt
whose soul was known
I'll never bring the world together, or sacrifice
I'll most likely be average
I'll mostly likely die without hearing
the sound of my giant crowd.
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 2:35 AM UTC
Today is the anniversary of another trip around the sun for the woman I love more than any other.
Happy Birthday to my mother, Elise
who drew me a picture of the female reproductive system
and labeled the parts
and explained the process
of ************
before my body ever had a chance to frighten me
who taught me the word
******
and taught me that there was nothing silly, or shameful, or icky
about the word
or having one.
who taught me
that people are inherently the same
and humans are valuable
and the meaning of the word
humanity
and the value of justice
and the meaning of the word
"injustice"
and consistently confronted it
often uncomfortably
but un-apologetically
whenever we found ourselves in its presence
Who responded to compliments
about my appearance as a child
with humble disinterested grace
and taught me with intention
in everything she said and did
that what is valuable about me
is my mind
and my heart
kindness
spirit
ethics
righteousness
some may say too much of the latter
who taught me about Janis, and Sylvia, and Frida
and Roe v Wade
and punctuation and articulation and diction
and the Serenity Prayer, and that Galway Kinnel poem about what is still possible...
I love you Mom. I could go on forever. My love and my gratitude for you - and what you have gifted and instilled in me - is bigger than the universe and eternity and possibility.
So glad you are with the sweetest child in the whole wide world this evening.
Loving and sending you love and bright light so hard.
Micah Haverly 2015
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 5:38 PM UTC
How beastly the bourgeois is
especially the male of the species--
Presentable, eminently presentable--
shall I make you a present of him?
Isn't he handsome? Isn't he healthy? Isn't he a fine specimen?
Doesn't he look the fresh clean Englishman, outside?
Isn't it God's own image? tramping his thirty miles a day
after partridges, or a little rubber ball?
wouldn't you like to be like that, well off, and quite the
thing
Oh, but wait!
Let him meet a new emotion, let him be faced with another
man's need,
let him come home to a bit of moral difficulty, let life
face him with a new demand on his understanding
and then watch him go soggy, like a wet meringue.
Watch him turn into a mess, either a fool or a bully.
Just watch the display of him, confronted with a new
demand on his intelligence,
a new life-demand.
How beastly the bourgeois is
especially the male of the species--
Nicely groomed, like a mushroom
standing there so sleek and ***** and eyeable--
and like a fungus, living on the remains of a bygone life
******* his life out of the dead leaves of greater life
than his own.
And even so, he's stale, he's been there too long.
Touch him, and you'll find he's all gone inside
just like an old mushroom, all wormy inside, and hollow
under a smooth skin and an upright appearance.
Full of seething, wormy, hollow feelings
rather nasty--
How beastly the bourgeois is!
Standing in their thousands, these appearances, in damp
England
what a pity they can't all be kicked over
like sickening toadstools, and left to melt back, swiftly
into the soil of England.
4.9k
I lost my innocence when I was small
It was what had caused me to build up walls
The older one you are supposed to trust
Made me cry with his pubescent lust
Just five years old when it began to start
Eleven when he had a change of heart
The smell, the room, the feel of the bed
Are the very things that stay in my head
I could not tell for who would believe
That this boy would do this to his niece
Not all can understand my shame
Or even know where to place the blame
The small girl with blue eyes and blonde hair
Or the pre-teen boy with an arrogant air
At five you don’t understand that it’s bad
But you always know it makes you sad
I have since came to terms with what happened to me
An innocence lost that will no longer be
Nevermore will I hide this shame
I will forever refuse to hide his name
I have confronted my demon from my past
It is his disgrace that will now last
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
I dive left before heading right, more times than I care to admit,
Each time I turn right and am not confronted, it feels like rejection,
A small death of little consequence for the life that could have been
So sweet, so superficial, a mini life grew- as I read your bio,
To be dashed in another instant of silence,
I have a tendency to rush into things without much guidance.
Your voice is sweet and smooth- to read,
Imagine a personality that fits- perfectly in the palm of my hand,
Conveyed in small white messages, poked through smaller holes,
Each one I read makes me feel a little brighter inside,
But each little light catches fire and dies, I must confide
That each one I read makes me feel alive.
But only for the moment, so I conduct another,
Small parcel containing another little piece of my soul,
“If you can feel your soul slowly, slipping away, that means that you still have one”
That is a phrase that will lead you to defeat before you have begun,
It leads to me giving away much less than I can afford,
These ‘one for one’ serotonin boosts are leaving me bored…
So maybe we could meet, go get something to eat,
I am sure that I won’t be bored by your topic of conversation,
Or at least I will try and make it look that way,
Because the cold reality is that we have nothing in common,
Except for a lack of self-esteem and an overestimation of our-
Social skills, next to non-existent,
I am perpetually distant!
I am sure that you were terrifically disappointed with last night
Because your messages are written on withered pieces of paper,
A full stop is the most definite thing that there is,
Subtle undertones have a pulse and it beats,
Black blood to and from a dying heart,
I should have known that you were poison, right from the start.
Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 8:22 AM UTC
The body remembers, though it has been
four years since the summer you shattered your
knee but still limped out across the continent
to Boston to see him you idiot and
this is the fourth summer you've placed between
yourself and the last pin and the last *****
your body remembers, though in the
torturous lengthening of fused and toughened tissues
the bad leg is finally catching up,
and the scar with its ten numb inches of
puckered track has come to fade bone white
against your skin
but it’s still stored somewhere
in your sockets or cells and when you fall off your bike you still cry
Though you’re not really hurt your body remembers
So that when you’re confronted with their engagement photo
(you didn’t even know he was seeing anyone)
the darkened garden at the Plymouth Plantation
begins to bloom up around you before you can stop it
like a seizure or a vision, and you’re there again
trespassing after him through shadowy pines
and night-damp atlantic air
to where the white chairs encircle the altar.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
at first it was he who trembled awkwardly with fear and paranoia of mistakes he believed would commit that his phobia itself had turned into an error. once confronted, he had gradually become more comfortable and less awkward; their special bond had taken a positive toll. at the peak of this, she had also gradually become more and more of herself, expressive and carefree.
now only to become what he once was.
Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 4:53 AM UTC
Did I win or lose?
Perhaps-maybe nature won.
One less spin cycle,
Gallons of life water saved.
In my intellectual hemitage
I find a difference can be made,
Oh underwear,
Spirit of nature,
First I wear you proper,
And the day is good.
I walk forward into the morrow
And turn the world backwards.
Yes the tag now goes to front,
And wedgies aside, all is well.
In the instantaneous moment
Ina departure of normalities,
Confronted with a bundle of reflections,
I move into day three,
Inside out.
The days have dispersed,
I wreak of the third day,
Still a difference has been made.
I take off the underwear,
Crispy and tainted,
With a lump in my throat
And a little hope I made a difference,
The underwear is sacrificed to the hamper.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
Broke the straw across her back,
so she snapped, never turning back
Bruised her arm by joking accident
with all the malice of death’s intent.
No natural love or paternal instinct
to catch
the tears she’s choked
with your hands on her throat.
Touch her again and the demons will get you
tell her to end herself before you do;
and the death you deserve will befall you
slow, alone and barren.
Better to have left long ago or
confronted your own lineage-issued father and
let yourself be disowned
than be the ******* you are.
Leave her be
middle child,
second accident
of the disappointing gender.
How dare you lay a finger on an innocent child?
You’ll never be absolved in anyone’s eyes.
Raised by fools, you’ve ruined your gift.
The daughter you never wanted
may never say it,
but will grow up to spite you.
Suffer like she does.
She’s been soaking it up now
for a while
but the blood flow continues
from deep wells of wounds.
She can’t take this load anymore
the people she carries
don’t love her and she’s
parched but still going.
Surviving on a lump in her throat
as she’s dragged through sandstorms and beatings.
Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 5:31 PM UTC
Traffic came to a halt as signal turned red again,
I heard a small kid knocking at the window pane.
I looked up suddenly and met his eye,
My face turned frowzy - not sure why?
Begging for a 10 rupee note in exchange of a flag,
Scores of other such items he carried in his bag.
Something about the set of his face suggested a despair,
Maybe he wanted to say something but he couldn't dare.
Maybe his leaders had covertly kept an eye on him,
Thus flagging him down from expressing his whim.
He just pretended that everything is fine,
Was it because otherwise, he would've nothing to dine?
I looked into his eyes, which couldn't hide it all,
Gently I started reading through his eyeball.
The desire to be rescued from poverty and pain,
The outlook over his dreams to start all again.
The delicate and subtle hands were badly bruised,
The plight of his innocence had left me confused.
The tears went unseen and the voice unheard,
Aspirations of flying high like a free bird.
Three, two, one and the signal turned green,
He flashed a gentle smile and passed by the scene.
Throughout that day, my mind was confronted with the thought,
His silence was loud, apparently speaking a lot.
(Shayad uski khamoshi bohat kuch keh gayi thi...)
Who will provide them all the necessities?
And help them with their basic amenities!!
Who will find them a decent vocation?
Food, shelter, clothing and education!!
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 11:10 AM UTC
how is it that i feel this strange way, even though i choose to ignore it, to brush it aside like noise coming from a construction site.
what is this uneasiness, the shaking of my body at the hands of winter?
do i simply choose to ignore it because i consider it insignificant or is it simply that am not brave enough to face the consequences of such thoughts?
these thoughts that are harder to understand than reaching the reefs of the sea.
i occasionally let the sun burn my skin, and let the rain drench my body hoping i would find answers in suffering,
but all it has taught me is too wiser in taking decisions, as i am confronted with a cold later.
how is it that we could be like liquid, formless and shapeless, sinking deeper and understanding every molecule of our existence?
how is it that we align ourselves with the secrets we hold that we ourselves, are not even aware of?
maybe we have always been like this, forbidden from knowing some parts about ourselves.
yet we think we know the world more, when the secrets within us are lost in the dunes of the desert.
this desert doesn’t really have an oasis, because the water dried up a long time ago, when humans didn’t even begin to question themselves.
to be like liquid now, to be free and yet know our deepest selves, maybe all we need is a little rain in this desert?
but the coast is far, and the winds only carry sand silt.
i wonder if this is how a civilization dies.
Dec 13, 2022
Dec 13, 2022 at 1:17 PM UTC
I lost my best friend to sadness
speaking these words at arms length
he said: to shake things up as hard as you can
and if you figure it out by god tell everyone
he said: failing is not just for failures
it's for everyone, failures just have more experience
but you can't quit now, you have to climb all night
climb everyone of their towers, and show them your life
but if I'm a quitter now, I promise I'll quit her in the end
I don’t need these weapons, I’ll set my heart to win
with the weight of the world trying to stop me
breathe out, then inhale my little heartbeat
and I'll do this for you, because the world might need it
if I don't I'll lose hope, and we'll end up losing it (oh well)
I lost my best friend to sadness
Even though we tried and tried, I guess we really didn't
I haven’t seen my chin since last may
I’m gonna hold my breath. Let's all hold our breath together
and turn this graveyard into a garden and grow from here
we give words to colors and swear we're not blind
we must be the last of our kind, claiming all the world as if we'll never die
we are the ones living right now clamoring around on top of everyone
but it has to hurt of it's to heal, well my god it must be healing
it's like a knife in the heart, and I'm starting to lose feeling
it's gonna hurt before it heals, but the pain is getting bigger
this dams about to go, and I'm running out of fingers
it'll hurt but it will heal, I'm starting to believe it
eyes wide open in the darkness, but I really can't see it
it’s burning right now and I want you to feel it somehow,
but without the pain of knowing it
when all is lost I won’t think of you
there's nothing in this world that ghost can do
no matter what's ahead I'll push on through
for your life or through your death, I’ll keep on
Until I've reached the sea where I can go no further
when all these possibilities keep forcing me towards their goals
confronted with their true self most men run away screaming
with nothing as their enemy it's hollow and it's whole.
stuffing sorrow in their souls
until all hope is lost in the infinite
I won't ever say goodbye because there's no good in it
I'll stay the course, you've sailed away
while my path leads to God only knows
I'll finish this race, you've quit so early
I'd invite you to swim but drifting is not swimming
and this is it, you've given me no choice
but to use mere words to stay alive. while you've paid them no mind.
and I'll tell stories about your life, you are no hero but I'll lie...
because, when all is lost I won’t think of you
there's nothing in this world that ghost can do
no matter what's ahead I'll push on through
for your life or through your death, I’ll keep on
May 12, 2012
May 12, 2012 at 8:01 AM UTC
“Solidity of my heart is ever repeating,
Yet yearning for things I'll never know,
The heat of the earth upon my feelings,
The zeal of the flurry gusts upon my dermis,
In the beauty of sunlight falling on water ways,
As you can feel the warmth of the sun as I have,
I’ve confronted my life’s crusades before this melody,
Oh yes yours be a simple cup of water for a diverse life,
It is the brine of the ocean that makes me crave more,
Tears that make my ever repeating heart stutter,
Tear drops warm as the flurry gusts upon my dermis,
Tears abhor the interior sole destruction of my soul,
Tears hasten down my cheeks like rivers,
Tears now smell and taste like the salt of sea brine,
As it leaves a taste of red fervor within my heart?
There will always be peace now way in my soul,
Tears sooth me like my feet upon brine sand stone
As I walk this journey I may stumble and fall,
For that infinite one that has left me now all alone,
I shall ever be fulfilled now in my melody of tears”
By Andrew Guzaldo 10/10/2018 ©
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 6:04 PM UTC
I need a mask
To hide the fears
Ensnaring my heart
I need a mask
To hide the feelings
I still have for you
I need a mask
To hide my anxieties
While talking to you again
I need a mask
To hide my frustrations
Over being not over you
I need a mask
To hide the chaos
That lingers in my broken solace
I need a mask
To hide the tears
And show you a false smile
I need a mask
To hide the screams
That I suppress in my lungs
I need a mask
To hide my weakness
So that you'll never see
I need a mask
To avoid my fears
Of seeing you happy
While I drown in my misery
I need a mask
To create a masterpiece
That fools me into thinking
I'm gonna be okay
I need a mask
To hide the fact
That until now
Nobody can replace you
I need a mask
To avoid confronting
These unavoidable emotions
Telling me that I still love you
I need a mask
To avoid everything about you
To keep my sanity in check
Even when insanity eats me away
I need a mask
To hide me from your world
So that someday
I may forget you
I need a mask
But which one should I wear
When I'm confronted with the truth
That you'll never come back to me?
Jul 27, 2019
Jul 27, 2019 at 3:42 PM UTC
To quote Athos from "The Three Musketeers"
"You are not a woman
You are a demon escaped from Hell"
When I first met you as a colleague
I made the mistake
Of getting friendly with you
When I should have ensured
That our relationship was going to be strictly professional
Of course, you had your own ways
Of charming those whom you came in contact with
That is something for which I have to give you credit
Albeit grudgingly
And you were an expert
At playing the victim card
Nevertheless, after I changed jobs
I thought I had seen the last of you
However, you came back into my life
As unexpectedly as the recent rains in Chennai
Initially, it seemed kind of sweet
However, I should have realised sooner
That you had certain ulterior motives
Unfortunately, I got fooled by your sweet talk
And started helping you financially
Because you looked up to me as a brother
I never doubted you in the slightest
Which was probably the biggest mistake of my life
You took advantage of me
In the worst way possible
And kept draining my bank account
Your lies kept getting taller and taller
And I kept believing them
Because, you had me well and truly under your thumb
However, even the most credulous person in the world
Can develop suspicions at some stage
Thus, after years of being in a psychological coma
I finally managed to wake up to the harsh reality
And told my family everything
Of course, with the help of a dear family friend
After we finally confronted you
You signed a written agreement
Promising to return all my money
Within a certain deadline
That deadline has long since passed
And you have not paid even ten percent of your dues
What is worse
Is the fact that you are absconding
And giving absolutely nonsensical reasons
Which even an utter fool would find it difficult to believe
You ruined my life
Destroyed my happiness
And shattered my self-confidence
Is this the way you treat a person
Whom you have addressed as "brother"
Not once, not twice, but several times?
I am giving you one last chance
Not for your sake
But for the sake of humanity
You had better take it
Because, if not
Then you will soon find yourself in prison
Again, to quote Athos
"You are not a woman
You are a demon escaped from Hell"
May 8, 2023
May 8, 2023 at 10:45 AM UTC
I stood at the top of the stairs, waiting & watching,
to see his car come winding around the bend,
up to our street and into the driveway.
Filled with anticipation & mischief, I listened quietly for his footsteps,
the jingling of his keys, as he unlocked the front door.
There I stood, hidden, trying not to breathe,
as I listened to him slowly climb the stairs, feet weary from the day.
Full of hope and excitement I jumped out,
'Boo!' I gleefully shouted, with a smile perched on my lips.
Time stood still, if but for a moment,
searching his face, I focused in on his eyes.
Expecting to see joy and amusement,
instead I was confronted only with a frown of annoyance.
My smile departed almost as quickly as it had arrived.
Filled with disappointment, as I watched him move past me, not even touching.
Down the hallway to his room, briefcase in hand, shutting the door behind him.
Leaving me at the top of the stairs,
with a hole in my heart.
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 8:17 PM UTC
Generations pass as autonomy eludes us denying us the opportunity
to reach for liberality.
Indifference, being a predecessor, digs shallow graves in so many ways,
Watching heritage that once was become something uncanny,
Unrecognizably lingering; lifeless.
Racial force fields, forces fields of incarcerated thoughts to take root,
Keeping us from seeing beyond ourselves,
and
The barriers built to keep those out,
only keep us,
from letting us, to allow others in,
and trust is placed on trial,
looking at a life sentence of death, unaware of its opportunity
to freely avail or elude it’s predicament.
If only it would appeal to the counsel of the majority.
Stubbornness sometimes refuses to embrace what we know needs to
be confronted in order to bring about change,
unifying an outside world
where life is not always fair and those around us calculate thoughts to hinder our progression.
We live in a place of democracy and disdain where street corner pharmaceuticals
****** the weary,
where adolescent girls are forced to become
teenage mothers or prostitutes,
where empty baseball diamonds and dugouts
are replaced by thick scaling barb wired walls and gray barred cells,
where young men and women trade their age multiplied for the number they will where in a system for life, and
where the sound of a crying disappointed child is exchanged for anger and abuse,
in the absence of a father or mother figure,
figuratively disfigured and lost in translation;
an abandonment of generations past.
Who will lead and guide us?
Who will plead and advocate on our behalf?
Who will stand in the gap?
Who will lead us past the captive mind to captivate hearts?
Who will provide the keys to unlock and break us free?
Free from the broken barriers that divide us?
~
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC
Listen to the rumor mill.
And watch that rumor spread.
Notice that within that rumor mill.
How things gets mislead?
Instantly they run with the news.
And try to make it truth.
And when you advise the word spreader.
That unless the person spoke in personally.
The rumor should stay quiet.
But you always find some to buy it.
He said, she said seems to stand true.
Unless that rumor is specifically about you.
Then when confronted.
You know the story.
I'm only going by what so and so said?
Don't get mad at me.
These are the people that runs when they should have remained silent.
Now, no one knows how the rumor started.
Cause they were the ones that took the lie a little higher.
At the office.
At school.
At church.
And they should know better.
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 6:11 AM UTC
septemeber 2014 i told my dad i didnt want to be alive anymore
in our kitchen, we sat on the floor, he held me and through his tears he told me he never wants to lose me
i think about this all the time
october 2014 my 2 year old brother saw my cuts and scars
he brings me bandaids all the time
novemeber 2014 my mom walked in on my 6th suicide attempt
we stayed up all night driving around, talking about how much i wanted to end my life
she asks me every day how i'm feeling now
december 2014 my step dad found sleeping pills i had been purchasing and saving for 6 weeks
he didnt cry when his only son was born but he couldnt even breathe when he found my pills and confronted me about it
janurary 2015 my step mom drove my to the er when she found my almost dead in the shower
she didnt sleep for 3 days while she and my mom stayed at the hospital with me
feburary 2015 my mom found my journal of suicide notes
there was over 100 notes
march 2015 my grandparents began noticing how bad i was getting
my grandmother stayed at our house during march break with me
april 2015 i saw my favourite band who has helped me through a lot of tough times
i got their lyrics on my body forever to remind me that i'm not my illness
may 2015 my bestfriend and i made a promise to each other to remain self harm free
we promised to help eachother get through our illnesses
june 2015 she was in the hospital for trying to **** herself
i knew i had to stay strong for the both of us
july 2015 i started to work on myself
i started to notice the beauty in things again
i forgot how much i loved the rain
how much i loved flowers
how much i cared about nature and the planet
i forgot how much i loved life
august 2015 i started to plan for the future
i started thinking about 10 years down the road
september 2015 i'm not where i want to be yet, but im so proud of how far i've come
im proud of myself
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC