"dramatics" poems
* [Part the First]
There's some giddy, childish sensation
The hope of a new generation
Faceless cameras war for my voice
A flashing ocean of stomps and shoves
Taken from me is my choice
Given is a false sense of love
They smile too wide to be true
Contorted and stretched, like some plastic
But they're all I have before the blue
So deep breaths, and then come dramatics
People who pass me by
Don't seem to realise
The emptiness of the sky
When they look into my eyes
They ask:
Is it lonely up in space?
Is it a cold, abandoned place?
Is it bright amongst the stars?
Do you know who you really are?
[Part the Second]
My life has faded to drunken thoughts
Reality doesn't confirm what can't be bought
The multicoloured psychedelia
Of nebula turning to rainbows
Now looks more fake than ever
And so my sanity goes
There's a beast out there, lurking
I'm not sure if it wants me
But my hope is hiding, sulking
From the abyss that can hear and see
The worst way to die is alone
Where there's no one who can help me
As my punishment destroys my home
At least, from my memory
They screech:
It's so lonely up in space
It's a cold, abandoned place
It's too bright amongst the stars
I think I'm dreaming too far
[Part the Third]
The faintest echo of laughter
Presents itself as my only answer
It's distant, like someone drowning in ecstasy
But it rings from the walls to my ears
The effect of the starry-eyed seas
Has mutated into whimpering fears
I know I'm not amongst the stars anymore
But the damage cannot be undone
So I gave myself to the floor
I could lie here, and never see the sun
Space could've never actually existed
Just a vivid fantasy of escape
But my mind has been so twisted
It must've been the cruelty of fate
They wonder:
Was it lonely up in space?
Was it a cold, abandoned place?
Will the stars ever forgive?
Do I still have a life to live?
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 11:14 AM UTC
She stands before the class
Her voice rings loud and clear
Each word beautifully enunciated
For all who wish to hear
The perennial English teacher
She reads with such dramatics and flair
Such a pity that its only noticed
by students in the first few chairs
She's reading out my poem
She paints pictures with her words
But honestly? Sometimes I find
Her explanations quite absurd
No, That's not what I meant!
Dear teacher, stop twisting my verse!
Dear students, please notice the flaws
In the story she so carefully rehearsed
It's amazing how sometimes she understands
The thought and feelings of what I wrote
And sometimes she gets it so very wrong
That I want to strangle her throat
She continues unperturbed
By the lack of interest in the room
Students only see her smile and energy
Not her disappointment and gloom
She worked so hard to teach them,
A little appreciation would go far!
But they just sit and pretend to listen
As they wait for the end for the hour
Finally, she comes across
That fateful line
The one that sparks a discussion
I watch the class come to life
In a tsunami of opinions,
She smiles proudly, riding the wave
She launches into her explanation
And it's the completely wrong one she gave
Its one of many misinterpretations
Of my carefully crafted work
There! That student! She understands what I meant!
Now now, don't tell her she's wrong. Don't be a ****
A debate ensues and words fly
The classroom divides into two.
Half are on my side, dear teacher
And the other half believe you.
Out of the blue, the bell rings
For once the students want more time!
A pat on the back for the English teacher.
This victory is both hers and mine
So what if she gets it wrong sometimes?
So what what if she's too dramatic?
Sometimes she's just unreasonable
She's your average literature fanatic
She always gets her point across
Without having to scream and shout
She teaches the students the value of words
Isn't that what it's all about?
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC
Crossroads (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
== Crossroads ==
by
SassyJ
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Complexities we create
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Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 10:47 AM UTC
Dull does not become me, pale, monotonous I laugh at, for they never defined me.
A world in black and white would cause me to shrivel up and die for I am as bright as the brightest butterfly.
The little girl inside me screams to show off the colors that make a girl girly, a woman a woman.
The color pink is my absolute favorite, it brings out the very essence of who I have become.
The little girl who loved pink candy cane, pink bubblicious bubble gum which made the biggest pink bubbles no one could miss.
Pink skirts, pink shorts, and my dazzling pink sunglasses made me look like a princess from another era.
The sheer color of pink, and the flamboyance nature that it adorns with that dazzling ray of different shades.
The world would be a simpler place if colors were lighter for it would bring about so much laughter.
A night on the town and ready to make a splash is what it's about.
How about a blue dress and what accessories could I wear to make me look so debonair?
I got it, what goes with blue? Why pink is a good mix. Pink pumps, pink bracelets would catch someone's eye.
Definitely not blah looking, more like dazzle, razzle superstar in the making.
The trees are green and that's amazing, the clouds are white and that's also amazing.
The earth is brown, the sea is blue but without a dash of rose pink, ruby pink, ultra pink and creamy pink tell me where would we be?
In a world lacking in fashion, pizazz, creativity, no future insight to vanity.
We need flair and dramatics, fashionistas in our market and I propose to get us started.
We need to paint the town and make it look oh so **** Pinktastic.
May 28, 2020
May 28, 2020 at 11:07 AM UTC
Inception Transcribed (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
==Inception Transcribed ==
by
SassyJ
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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Inception and intersection of human life are diverse. We are ushered as a blank canvas to the shores of life. Socialised with values, beliefs and cultures. Our acclimatised acculturation. Submerged in the swampy lowlands each sunk and wandering through and through.
This morning I woke and left my house...... looked up to the horizons of nature. And there it was.... a revolving camera smiling at each stride I take... following me and taunting me. Unreserved in institutions, submerged in the ever decaying social structures.
Why do we do what we do everyday?
Is it part of the human processes and functions?
To exist and be absolutely absent but present. I fret, then I smile. Trying to join the puzzles in the mazes. Ever questioning if I am here to learn or to be polluted by bureaucracy.
Lets call for an assembly, announce that the town is dead. Yet, its people are gasping, breathing to fill their lives with a new paradigm. Look at me all cyanosed , the blueness of the dying veins... sunk in the redistribution and social panic. Re-engaged in the demoralised democracy. Look at me asking....
What is the meaning of life?
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC
Booming Rhetorics (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
==Booming Rhetorics ==
by
Checkered Darks
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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https://soundcloud.com/user-367453778/boomingrhetorics
Human nature itself is a smash of contractual responsibility. A splash of rights afloat as we sink in our psychological rooted moral panics. All I see is a cascading titanic of ventures our mislaid adventures one after another. The criss cross of chains, we bonded in tax measures, reserve treasures...... It's not my leisure I beg you don't make your pleasure.
I sink in pressure, resolving Karl Mark ideology of conflicted power. Is it our born nature or nurture to live in a world of social polarisation. A pole to pole, a tug of war. Each owning and holding a rope.Is it our task to cage in boxes, fencing notions of inequalities within our society. Is it our right this notion Bourgeoisie and Proletariat.
Help me out as as I wade in the swampy lowland. Treading through and through, head afloat, the submerging walk me to the shores..... Help me find my way through this dark tunnel. Help me see the light, let the sun ray penetrate my blight.
In our dichotomy of democracy we have made it right. A rolling ball of ........
1. Stock them high sell them cheap is the order of the day.
2. Social warehousing of merging demand and supply chain.
3. A disintegration of socialist entrepreneurship.
4. Re-distribution of Export Production Zones in marginalised countries.
5. A surge of capitalism on this patch we call the universe.
6.Conortions of monopoly colluding sustainability.
I pass this ball to you. As the industrial revolution fades and debates of "STEEL" revolves.
My Speech is a mere consideration, our contradiction. The contractual complications that we have grounded and granted ourselves as humanity. My voice is an exchange, my gift, a cloud of thoughts, an arousing hope our haunting costs.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 6:19 AM UTC
Juxtapositional Refinement Redefined (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
== JRR ==
by
SassyJ
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Credits to: Angelina Lopez (HP Poetess)
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Juxtapositional refinement redefined:
When you meet beautiful souls we have been taught by the society to confine them. Like "I love you" but what does that word really mean. Does it mean "sharing in openness" or does it mean " been confined in expectations and obligations".
The paradigm that we live in as society is delusional. We have learnt to analyse the "in between" based on our analytical and logical systems. But how about going to the individuals involved and creating an open dialogue to talk about what the situation may be. This is a thorough and more accurate way of attaining acuity.
To flow in openness is like listening to 'harmonious jazz music' ...... it is like inhaling the beauty of the ginger scent in the breeze.
Life itself speaks to us and we don't have to make it complicated. If we only were able to have an open platform..... hearts that are blissful and not tainted by fear then we can redefine the contrasting views of dichotomy that we have as mankind.
In essence, If you haven't communicated to someone openly about something ...... we should never draw out conclusions. They will only be pre-judgemental notions oozing with constraining predefined and predetermined assumptions. Give everyone a chance and the world will smile!
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 11:09 AM UTC
Mediocre Flow (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
==Mediocre Flow ==
by
SassyJ
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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https://soundcloud.com/user-367453778/mediocreflow
In the woods I get lost, arrays of green specked by the rays of the sun. The wind blows but its swift in measure. I get lost my body in the breeze, as the time runs faster I breath slower. Lost in the wonder of the nature. I lay it all down, the worldly desires, disused contributions… all in the mediocre flow.
The grounds feels so alive, alone but never lonely. The trees talk to me, they journey my vulnerabilities. A hug of the branches goes far beyond. The only lean over that drives me to ecstasy of …….my mediocre flow.
All done with expectations and chasing the unending mazes. We become the mistresses of the earth, arching and protracting with emotions, lotions ……looming greyed blues. Hold this packet of stars, I pass it to you to touch, to overflow in it’s magic and fantastic voyages of the. …..mediocre flow
Feel the greenness patched on the muddy grounds. Have the enliven nature of the flying bubble. See the flow of the waters, the contraction of the streams to the lakes. Touch the drops….the raindrops, nurture them as they sink below your feet. Feel the life, feel alive….. the mediocre flow
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 7:42 AM UTC
Black Part 2: The Darkest Room
My whole life is one big dark room
Somehow I ended up dragging you down too
There's a hole in my head
That leads to the infection within
I tell you time and time again
I'm broken I'm no good
Just a washed up toy that's never in the mood.
Roses are red
Our love is turning blue
By the time this is over we will probably be through.
My whole life is one big dark room
I never wanted you to have all my gloom and doom.
They say come to the light
But my heart knows it's a lie
An addict for dramatics
Our dynamics aren't the same
In this unfair game.
My whole life is one big dark room
I ended up hurting you
And all I loved-I loved alone.
Jul 14, 2021
Jul 14, 2021 at 3:45 PM UTC
One man who stood among giants
Short in status
Mighty in endurance
It was the spotlight in posing
The man’s name was Ed Corney
Mr. Corney was a Master Poser
Amazement and determination throughout
Dazzle in muscle as they entertained
Ed Corney is a name that just remain
It all relates to the sport of Bodybuilding
Mr. Corney muscles were always ready and pumped
He trained with precision
Mr. Corney practiced posing with all the right moves
Posing with transition in elegance being smooth
Dramatics beyond any verbal script, but creativity being an art
Mr. Corney can be seen in the documentary of Bodybuilding being “PUMPING IRON “
Bodybuilding was Ed Corney’s heart
It was the fire burning within from the very start
One would often see Ed Corney among Arnold Schwarzzenger, Franco Columbu and Serge Nubret and other Bodybuilding champions
Mr. Corney trained lacking nothing, but everything to gain
Competition to win being the purpose
Yet Ed Corney was more than just Bodybuilding
It didn’t matter he won numerous bodybuilding titles, but ne never loss sight of devoted fans
It was Mr. Corney fans encouragement, and that is what caught Mr. Corney’s eyes on the prize of bodybuilding achievement
Mr. Corney was a humanitarian in every sense of the word
The weights in all gyms have dropped down on all floors
The loss of a Bodybuilding Champion
A long list of Bodybuilding competitions
A muscled hero will be posing in Heaven
Ed Corney’s final competition is won
He is in God’s Kingdom
God said, “I will give you rest and on Earth you did your best”
You have achieved awards on Earth
But Heaven will be your enriched birth
Ed Corney words he might would say, “Thank you fans, but my work in Bodybuilding is finished, and remember me in being distinguished. Train wise and achieve your own expectations, but always have the art of Bodybuilding in appreciation. Remember the greats who made Bodybuilding what it is today, and tomorrow being your heritage. It has been honor to share with you being one of the Bodybuilding stars. My journey has taken me beyond the Bodybuilding skies and planets. This is not a finale, but until we meet again.
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 6:37 PM UTC
I think I’m going to
Slow down for awhile
I need to embrace that
I may be mentally mature
But I’m still just a kid
A kid with an unbelievably and
Obnoxiously mature mindset
But a kid nonetheless
So I think I’m going to
Slow down for awhile
God knows that I really
Don’t need to be worrying
About the dramatics
Of the adult lifestyle
And I need to enjoy that fact
While it’s still true
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 9:25 AM UTC
Bleak clouds
& fortune
hovered
around
the star-studded town
I was lifted high
then propelled far down
into the depths
of eternal despair
A sickening flair
for the dramatics
& the addicts
The angels summoned you
To illuminate my path
&
Guide me on track
I may reminisce
on the days of black
When my mind
was out of whack
hands grasping
a bottle of jack
But I can not
& will not
go back
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 9:44 PM UTC
There is no perfect someone waiting at the top
of the steepest peak, waiting for you
like some comic superhero in a cape
here to save you from your faults and failures.
No.
Love is looking at someone and going, "Wow, you're pretty ****** up,
but I love you regardless."
"And baby, even if you make a tremendous mistake,
I will always love you."
No dramatics, no perfection.
Just seven-hundred shades of awkward blushes
staying up 'till 4 o'clock talking about kittens
tripping over your pants to answer their calls
and spending hours in angst over what sweater to wear on your dates.
There is no shortcuts, no steep passes, and most importantly, no heroes
only little mistakes, slips of the tongue, and sweetness
but, if you go in expecting mountains
the disappointment will be your downfall.
So, just live with it
go to sleep, embrace your lovers, laugh at yourself
and don't dread the mountain pass
for, in the end, there is no true mountain at all.
Only kisses and the simple taste of what is to come.
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 2:02 PM UTC
My spirit wants to do right, but the flesh is unwilling to comply. That's why it must die. Daily. Crucified. All the affections and lusts, crushed with the weight of his Spirit hear to comfort mine own until this mind disownes every thought that exalts itself against the one on the Throne. Adonai, El Shaddai, Elohim, thou most High, Prince of peace, never cease, to amaze, the Blood connected to the earth and awoke men out of graves/I refuse to be sinfully enslaved, hiding in dens and cavs like the ones his goodness tried to save...I understand you Paul, you did what you didn't want to and didn't do what you should have did, yet the Master forgives. I wanna live burden free, no hurt in me, I don't want to subconsciously hold on to the flair of dramatics, rejecting a life lived peacefully while repetitious requests prayed vainfully asking God to take the pain away yet rejecting his orders so the pain can stay. In a twisted way, some people depend on there own misery, no matter how much they complain about it. Because its either what they know best or all they know, and familiarity can be a mental, emotional and spiritual ******* that most...can't let go...well Lord im willing. I'm willing to let go of the past that you already have a long time ago. I'm willing to see myself through your eyes. I'm willing to allow you to turn this anger into joy, this easy irritability into long suffering, this pride into honor, false humility into the one we clothe in..im willing to allow all the pain the sting of rejection gave me over the years, to place shamelessly in your healing hands, im willing to give you the violin, that I've used to play the songs for every pity party thrown within, Upon personal request, while partly oblivious, to the world around me is dying in sin. Lord, continue to help me locate the man I was always suppose to be. Reveal him to me. Describe him to me. Develop me into him. He's been waiting for my embrace for too long. And I'm ready..to put away Childish things..
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 12:54 AM UTC
let’s pretend that my flaws are my
best qualities.
that you’re dependable, and your
shoulders will not shake.
let’s pretend i didn’t swallow his
nectar.
let’s pretend the marks upon my scruff
originated from my
callused fingers.
let’s pretend i can only ***
with
you.
that your spit wasn’t scratched upon
her pale fat thighs for almost 2
years.
let’s pretend that my lungs are steel,
and my ribs are made of
diamonds.
so if you wanna kiss me tonight,
kiss me hard so i can taste your
mistakes,
with a touch of plasma.
choke me until i’m on my knees,
confessing my sins.
hot like peppers.
cold like the snow we fell in.
we can never return
to that
night.
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 12:28 AM UTC
It’s a fallacy, ‘to be or not to be’
actors strutting and pouting across
a stage, their black shoes burning
holes into the painted wood,
Their words lacking conviction
each action, merely an action,
but it’s what they have to work with
that holds the key, he secret ecstasy,
The escape route from Hell
Knowing that, given the choice,
‘to be’ is not where the scales will
settle. We are wanderers clutching
at straws of adventures, but we will
pick the short one, eventually
Where then do we go? When there is
no ladder made of gold to climb.
no pearly gates nor a wizardly,
kindly face
‘The play’s the thing’
wherein we catch
the conscious of
ourselves
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 12:36 PM UTC
Bleak clouds
& fortune
hovered above
the star-studded town
lifted quite high
propelled
further down
into depths
of despair
sickening flair
for dramatics
&
addicts
gangster men
guns ablaze
****** daydream
life of haze
poisonous
bloodstream
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 4:30 PM UTC
"Da Dramatics"
when I hear I don't do drama..
It makes me..
Pull back my hands..
Cover my face again..
Look away.. shy away..
Because..
No miracles can be performed here today.
If You don't do drama..
See drama may be rolled up in my sleeves.
As I act out my creativities..
Share my masterpieces,, drama may be what bleeds.
Drama in the sense that.. How I color my days..
How I blur out the craziest of ways.
How I finger paint with audio lyrics..
How I try to make sense of dimensional physics.
Confessions and testimonies,
bleeds from my knees.
And if I have to hide so much inside.
Zip my lips...Be ashamed of my slips.
Hide shades of identity.. Blur what bothers me.
Only offer out the candy..
The weather hasn't always been kind to me.
Your telling me there's no place for me.
because there are days times I need to be
as naked as can be.
And I need you to be naked around me.
To Dance naked with me.
Well I'ma need you to be able to take it.
As I can't fake it.
Drama is musically.. parts of my harmony.
Tamed/drama .. You have to be strong enuff cinematically
With ears of christianity
Embrace me theologically and love me.
Don't fear the pets I have chained. On leases beside me.
I'm a soldier dramatically.
Drama does not define me.
But It can be calmed made to behave spiritually.
Except the dramatics as you accept my harmony.
SelinaSharday S.A.M 2018
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 5:03 PM UTC
Lulling conversations
about ceiling fans and washing machines –
appliances I’d never think
to purchase as an idealistic youth,
because they’re included
in the best homes, a lifetime warranty.
Such as the time I learned
vinegar dissolves sweat from t-shirts,
or that nail polish remover cleans carpets.
There were occasions I
unplugged lamps during storms,
as knowledge crept upon my aging spirit,
while on others, teenage
dramatics fell solid victim to the
irate beast of lethargy, a sandman.
Can responsibility be measured
by the care I offer electrical sockets
and moments devoted to preventing sparks?
Quality versus quantity –
there’s a hearty debate, countering
kitchen tips exchanged from
housewives to sisters and the infrequent son
that I base my initial worth on,
of all arbitrary numbers.
Aug 18, 2012
Aug 18, 2012 at 3:07 PM UTC
and i’m glad just to be
floating around in your atmosphere,
because the view is so lovely
from here. your face like marble,
carved out by the the wind,
and I dare you to bend
like winter twigs or golden light,
one of those things, you never could hold.
one of those things were never here at all.
nor the curve of the wineglass,
as your fingers twisted through air,
and the pieces scattered like mercury,
gleaming as bright as your teeth;
licking for something more tender,
something more meek.
i steal flashes of light and pin them
to the sun’s greedy eye for you,
like the brink of extinction.
it is more like a rebirth; the trees burning
and heaving their limbs like lungs.
it is a changing of seasons, and
it is all, it is all that I can do.
i linger at portholes shaped like your eyes,
gorged somewhat with nostalgia,
but i can move on through the chemical highs
and the lovely dramatics of reds on a stereo blue.
i can stand on things that are uneven.
oh, see how we’ve grown.
Jun 8, 2012
Jun 8, 2012 at 9:41 AM UTC
Jeff Beckham who stands by what he has accomplished and established. Some of you probably don’t know who Jeff Beckham is and how Bodybuilding fits in. Well let me fill you in. Mr. Beckham is a young man that brought promise and dignity to bodybuilding in what he stands for. Mr. Beckham chose Bodybuilding as an outlet to overcome what he felt was missing his life. He got involved into Bodybuilding in making a difference in his life and followed the same route he wanted for others and that was Bodybuilding and general exercising participation. It was the Bodybuilding door that opened and Jeff Beckham being part of the new frontier and a wave of accomplishments after another with several Bodybuilding titles under his belt. Yet, Mr. Jeff Beckham proved to himself and the world that he was destined to be successful, and Bodybuilding was going to be the centerpiece in positive action. Positive in believing in what Mr. Beckham would be his difference in encouraging others to follow in his footsteps.
He is also a Father being totally devoted to his Daughter, Miya, and takes part in her life when he is not in a busy schedule of Seminar training and Bodybuilding competition preparation. But no matter what, Mr. Beckham is his number importance in being a parent. However, Mr. Jeff Beckham offers training principles for anyone who wants to enhance in improving their body composition. He wants others to see results with how one can improve them. The key is tone and being lean. Now for Mr. Jeff Beckham’s posing routines, there is no secret. But if you ever need a Guest Poser, Mr. Jeff Beckham is your man. He offers Splits, Stretches and Dramatics that will uplift any bodybuilding competition and arouse the audience in wanting more. Mr. Beckham is devoted to Strict Discipline and Conditioning. So what does tomorrow hold for Jeff Beckham, I won’t say, but follow Jeff Beckham on Facebook and Judge for yourself. His Bodybuilding success could be what exercising you have been missing, and he will definitely help you achieve your proportionate goals.
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 7:03 PM UTC
Eyes of golden fields,
And hair of flaming sun,
Beauty of Aphrodite,
Voice of a siren.
Her sad gaze
Grasps you soul
And rasps your breath.
She's an unknowing temptress
Claiming lonesomeness
And strength of solidarity.
Dramatics fill her life
While tears penetrate her ducts
Only to be wiped dry
By her smooth white digits.
The opinions she illuminates
Are half always harsh
Half always right.
Yet in the gloom
She watches the man
She bows her song
And swallows the shine
Of that which she gazes upon.
She drinks softly
Falls to the cotton
Falls into self realization.
Her karma awaits
Sticking to her endo
Like fresh golden cream,
****** from the hive of greed.
She puts the unwanted to obscurity
And places her dreams in a bottle
To be carried from safety.
Her pain goes unnoticed
As she presses the glass
And downs its purity
To reach her haven.
I truly wish to save her,
For her beauty astounds me
And her love is secretive
Hidden to all those who seek it.
If only a door existed
For the key I posess.
Mar 10, 2010
Mar 10, 2010 at 9:17 AM UTC
I remember when I wrote
my first proper story at ten
It was called Gateway to Heaven.
When My grandad died
I found myself preoccupied
With the notion of the afterlife
Cause I could not believe that someone
Like him could simply be gone.
Couple that with an obsession
With space exploration
And what you got was a spiritual sci-fi.
To be honest it was more a screenplay
I bought it into class
for some reason one day
Not sure why
Maybe I wanted someone to read it.
Left it on my desk and went for a ****
And when I got back my teacher
Who had a bit of a flare for the amateur dramatics
WAS reading it.
I was met with an intrigued gaze as I walked back in,
I remember thinking
*ahh why are you going through peoples things?!
That's rude!*
(Although I secretly knew she would)
Tryin not to blush as she asked
Me questions about it,
then asked me to stand up and read the plot out to the class.
At this point what you've got to factor in
is that I was incredibly shy,
hmm no maybe not shy,
more under confident.
Not cripplingly so,
don't get me wrong
I was incredibly social,
was very popular in my class as a child
but when it came to sharing thoughts of my introspection,
any talent or shows of confidence,
well let's just say I'd learnt to keep that **** to myself...
But I stood up and read it.
And was met with a
mass of baffled gazes,
a memory that I don't think
will ever leave me.
To be fair it was pretty out there,
all black holes, theology and grief.
The silence that fell,
matching the silence of space itself
makes me wary of silences still.
That eternal moment
Tryin to Guage the judgement
thinking oh **** it!
now everyone knows I'm weird,
shoulda just stuck to my status quo in my final year.
But it was broken eventually
by my friend Funmi who said
"I don't get it"
I'll never forget it,
it was sorta funny,
mostly disappointing.
I wish I had the mentality at that time to think these guys just ain't ready for me
but I guess that was that,
class went back to what it was doing,
teacher came up with
a look of approval and some words of encouragement which was odd,
she wasn't my favourite teacher at all
and she knew it full well
and i spose that marks my underwhelming moment in the spotlight...
*Although I've always
maintained the belief
that it'll shine bright on me one day
or maybe I'll outshine it*
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 3:10 PM UTC
I remember my teenaged phantasm and I lace soft boots to draw
tall grass and sand dunes and hothotsummer,
a pair of teenaged lips on my teenaged lips in sundown,
the little wreckage of the family behind walls invisible from distance,
and the perfect quiet of strong teenaged hands, the I-never-want-to-leave only
in that we know so certainly we will
come fall—
the beauty in the shooting of the star
and not the star.
I tilt the rearview, sweater on, and leave to you.
I picture the soft reeds and pebble beach with-you-near-you and I think
how I could take you there and live a baby flame fantasy with a flair
for the dramatics and more fallapart than meets the eye or the mind’s eye, even.
I could kiss you behind clapboards
like goodbye is on the weekend
and cry to Cassiopeia that why-does-good-always-goddamn-go-away.
But it doesn’t always, not just yet, and so I leave my young Hollywood vision
to my young Hollywood visionary and I take your hand to pass
the quiet sad beach at miles on miles an hour, because I want
you for longer than the starry summer
and Dad’s averted eyes.
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 11:39 PM UTC
Once, I thought my bones were made of marble
and bullets would sing through the air, press my flesh and fall
clinking to my iron-cast feet.
Once, I believed my mind was an untouchable machine
that thundered like a herd of wild horses, a hive of bees, a freight train
firing synapses in record time.
Once, I felt my choices made me something more than human
not like the mass of one-dimensional thinkers who wrung their pretty hands
fretting over day-to-day dramatics.
Once, I knew I was a demigod - immortal, special, surreal
and you could bask in the glow of my gold-forged heart and never be able to break it
pounding blood of fire and mercury.
Once, I was invincible.
Then this morning, I woke up made of clay
a creative, though unremarkable casting of dust
crumbling.
Just like everyone else.
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 7:08 PM UTC