Embarrassment.  
We all know what it is.
It's the son of Mr. Miscommunication
and the lovely Ms. Stupidity
Embarrassment isn't a kind thing
It crawls into your stomach and pokes at you
only to remind you
of your misfortune mis-step.
With all of Embarrasment's toying
you become uncomfortable
you sweat
you fidget
but it's still there
that, hopeless feeling of stupidity that
eats at you.  

Embarrasment's quite flexible,
he likes to move around
the more you think, the farther he goes
from your stomach's trouble to your chest
where he hurts your heart
and lodges your lungs

At this point,
we all know what happens
but

I'm far too embarrassed to explain it.

To all the teachers who have let me down, to the teachers who made me feel isolated and alone for all the teachers who made me lose faith in the education system and caused me to believe that my strengths werent nearly as large as my weaknesses, to the teachers who have made me feel like my only purpose for living was to get good grades. I want you to know how you made me feel.
To the health teacher sophomore year who during the ****** education unit ignored my inquiries about safe *** in same *** relationships and then proceeded to tell me that my questions were innapropriate and that i was too young to be asking that, i want you to know that hearing that was a slap in the face to me. Hearing that sent 16 year old me so far back into the closet that i couldnt see any ounce light. I could not see a reason to be hopeful because you deemed my sexuality as wrong and made me feel like i was alone, i want you to know that it took me 2 years after that to understand that my feelings were not something to be ashamed of and it took me a week and google to find the responses to the questions you refused to answer.
To the chemistry teacher who told my counselor that i am a ******* addicted drug user and never even had the nerve to ask me why my hands shake, i want you to know that i have a disorder called essential tremor and my shaking is something that took me years to embrace. I want you to know that your assumptions stole the years of confidence i had built up in the acceptance of my disability and made me feel targeted and insignificant, if only you had simply just asked me then you would have saved me the loss. To the same teacher who made me sit out in the hall for the whole hour long class period because i talked while you were talking, i want you to know how ****** that feels. To any teacher who sends students in the halls, know that there is nothing worse than isolation and that making your students sit out in the hallway wont do anything but make them feel the pangs of loneliness and embarrasment.
To the spanish teacher with the bad temper who always took the time to complain and point out my mistakes, i want you to know that it never helped me learn anything and for someone who preaches tolerance amd respect i think its ironic that you made students feel so bad to the point where theyd leave your class crying. I want you to know that i tried my hardest to get your approval and never got it at all. But even though there have been those who have let me down, there have also been those who have brought me up. There have been those who have pulled me out of the deepest of slumps and showed me how to be brave.
To the math teacher who was more like a mother to me, a really cool one at that, who had awesome taste in music and understood that intelligence is not defined by grades, i want you to know that even though i hated math, walking into your class always made my day a little bit better. I want to thank you for understanding me and teaching me to try even when my attitude was ****. Im lucky to have met you because if i hadnt, i wouldnt have so much motivation.
To the theatre teacher who i met before highschool even started, i want you to know that you are the person who guided me to where i am today. And even when i cant find the words to say how i feel, you always know how to lead me to them. You were like a father to me when my own father was sick and for that i will always be appreciative.
To the theatre teacher who i can say without a doubt saved my life, who brought my out of the darkness and helped me see light, who understood all of the issues going on in my life, i owe my life to you. Meeting you was something that i am forever grateful for. You always know how to make me feel better and less alone and when i feel like im falling down you always help pick me back up. You're the only teacher who can see when im not okay and the only one who i can share with why im feeling that way, you're the only teacher that still manages to inspire me everyday and make me laugh at the same time. Thank you can't even begin to explain how much you have changed my life.
Ive learned that teachers have a bigger impact on kids than we think, they can affect them so much even in even the little things, ive learned that the things that teachers do can either inspire or haunt you for the rest of your life and its important that teachers understand that school is not the only thing in a students life, its important to understand that in just a day a teacher could either save someone or break someone. Empathy is the most important key that a teacher should hold because if you can make someone feel less alone, then youre doing it right.

i know what i am,
to you.
an embarrasment,
don't let the ladies from the church,
hear that i dont believe in god.
you have dragged me,
to shrinks,
to priests,
convinced i am of the devil,
convinced i was molested.
convinced that there is something to be fixed.

all the while,
i had known,
that my disease was not of the mind.
i was not diseased at all!

i was wearing black,
because i liked it.
i loved a woman,
because she made me happy.
i have ink on my skin,
because its beautifull.
i have steel in my flesh,
because it appeals to me.
i am an atheist,
because it makes sense.

but lo!
shield your gaze from me.
cover your children's ears.
suspect that they are gay,
while you are at it,
it rubs off you know.

push your head into that hole,
stick your fingers in your ears,
and sing a ditty to drown me out.

cut me off.
frankly, i dont care.
i am done explaining.
no longer,
can i fake a placid demeanor,
around the dinner table,
to encourage your beliefs.

i know you think,
its all attention seeking.

equipped with this,
my mother,
my sister,
i will not squirm under your gaze any more.
i cannot conform,
to your ideas,
of a daughter,
of a sister,
of a wife,
of a woman.

i fly proudly in the face of your disaproval,
because i know,
every step i take towards your shackles,
is a step away from my destiny.

do you remember
when
the world shut me out?

how quick we forget, now

when i was four
and they threw
sand in my eyes
& me out of the box
i cried so hard
i couldn't see
and you still told me
i was too special
for them to see
what they're missing

i'm blind to you, now
when
i was chubby
8th grade
and no one else
loved me
you still told me
how beautiful
i was
and that you
would always
see me that way

how ugly am i to you, now

when i was purple
haired and fifteen
you bailed me out of jail
you still told me
even if i was wrong
you could never leave me
there

you bail on me, now

when i got stood up
you took me to prom
anyway
you still told me
i will always
be there for you
especially when
others won't

you stand me up, now

do you remember
how proud you were
when you still told me
ill always be
your child

somehow
i must be adopted, now

i may be pregnant
i may be gay
i may be high
i may be sick
i may be dying

but,
i am still yours

do you remember
when
the world shut me out?

how quick we forget.

Dearest Mother
I love you so much, so deep.
Why do your Children make you weep?
You adopted me, with a broken past
Filled with hateful ideals.
Thus,  saving my heart.
Although Im not your aesthetic child,
I love you more than those,
Who claim your side.
My bloodline, an embarrasment, they **** your body.
They steal from you, a detestable history.
Engraved on the future, a history past.
Of foreign Politics, your new prison Mom.
And why do your children embrace this lie?
Why are they standing idly by,
While you wither and die?
For fame?
For Fortune?
For Self..
For GREED...
This is NOT your teachings!
"UBUNTU" is...
You taught me to Love beyond the colour of skin.
And to love profoundly, my Rainbow Kin.
Your Spirit, dear Mother, I will defend till Death.
Help me return your babies
back to your breast.
Forgive my Ancestors, they have no clue what they did.
Their greed, their hate, their fear, killed your Kid.
Forgive your Children,
My brothers and sisters.
For their hearts are violent and full of blisters.
And Mom, I know this is not your way.
You show love and respect, the opposite of pain...
Though I may not be biologically yours,
You blessed me in your love,
Showed me that with you, there are no borders.
My Mother I love you. Im sorry for what they do.
Though Im not your birth child,
I know you love me too..
so WAKE UP my Sister
WAKE UP my brother.
Stand up with me.
Defend our Mother.
She is bruised and hurt,
Cant you hear her cries?
Because Her children are greedy,
And dont care if She dies.
Our "Leaders" **** Her out
For personal gain.
She is NOT for sale!
I wont play that game.
So Mom, I love you.
I cry because of what they do.
They claim your being,
They claim they own YOU!
But you cant be owned, or sold by any,
Because you are loved,
By oh so many..
Again I pledge my Love to you.
Im not alone, many of your Kids are good.
They embrace your teachings.
They keep your ways.
To live life in your Tradition,
And not in shame.
I love you too, my sister, my brother.
In Truth and Respect, another gift from our Mother.

construct and noose from tulip branch and be fed to the foxes
- live is in liver which will become desolate tomorrow trying to sort out my stupidity

I’m a numb statue
Built to remind you all
Of what isn’t worth doing

- diagnosing connection problems (with close friends)
- dance for the sake of keeping your mask intact

I hate you and love you all
In some odd dynamic way
I’m sober, then I’m resentful
I’m drunk, and intent’s full

- "where I end and you begin" if only I could begin with you
- "there’s a gap where we meet" ALL THE TIME

- why do I find it hard to connect to you? is it because we’re both fundamentally socially ******* or is one of us in denial of something
- can’t express ourselves without getting drunk oh dear

and then we trip out of windows
and break ferns and furniture

in some bold dream scene
ego’s arising like iron waves
for the queen of the scene

black serpent and white viper
scramble to avoid eachother

- four foxes once dwelled here
- mistakes can seem meticulous, just google it
- if you could cuddle an insecurity like it had flesh and breath
- finding a new depth, ***** maths exams
- why must I be this way to write the best poetry
- we don’t know how to raise kids, we’ll bribe them instead
- minimum wage ******, an absurd public order
- I love your quirks like I love canyons
- numb is sometimes good when you can share feelings but not thoughts
- COME OUT OF THE CLOSET ALREADY

washed away my mind
in wasteful wishful thinking
wish I left a morsel of me behind

buy and sell sense in satchels
premium price my parable
sell it for members only
******* elitist

bernake. bank my soul
store it in between your teeth
eat my wages, waste away resources

argumentative stepfathers
second in line
come again
when you can bend time

wasted my time
inebriated entrance only
scoring chicks, only
everyone else lies in denial

an embarrasment your ego
such a shame you cut your ****
now tell me something else

you love him deep down
you keep him from me
you keep him from the eye
I’d ******* but I lvoe you

paraplegic prophets
on denials and amphetamines
screaming obscenities
dreaming denied fantasies
jesus

get out of your shell
all that lies outside is hell
abolish the polished snakes
their heads are venomous

- “it’s awesome when I’m this ****** p because it’s harder to decipher the meaning behind my poetry”
- “or maybe I’m being pretentious”
- “but I’m ****** anyway so it doesn’t matter”
- “when we’re like this we deny responsibility and give to mother nature and her world”

the pallettes are patented
we’d nothing more to lose

my liquerrational ramblings

I watched how violence manifests in the hearts of men.
When I walked passed a spider,
Resting by the entrence of my home.
He had no quarrel with me
Even when i took his sun without say,
Nor was he scared of this great figure
That he would scour away.
It was I who was gripped by fear,
Imagining the unimaginable.
In my minds eye
I had already seen my death at the hands of a spider.
My ignorance had lead my imagination
Into a great series of unfortuitous events.
Without knowing, without seeing for my self
It began
With thinking if I leave this door open,
He will enter.
When he enters,
He will make his way to my bedroom unseen.
And when the night takes me away,
He will make sure my soul never returns to this body.
This is when my fears soon turned to hate and anger,
Spurred on by the fear of death
I had no problem sending this creature to the great unknown
That I was scared of.
My superiority in statue,
My enduring strength to **** without the need to feed
And this consciousness I possess to differentiate between victim and transgresser,
Is the proof and worth
Of my life being spared and yours buried beneath the rubble
Allowing worms to feed off your decaying matter.
I will not be reduced to such insignificance
And be shamed by this inferior peasant with no home.
I had seen how fear had contorted my imagination
Influenced my thoughts to vibrate at a low frequency
Of; hate, anger, fear, doubt and anxiety.
With the aid of memory,
What I had conceived vividly in my mind
About how this creature wanted to belittle my existence
Now latched on to feelings from the past
That also vibrate at a low frequency.
The trauma I had to endure
From shame and moments of embarrasment,
Was the great encourager in killing
Preventing a reoccurrence of this pain in the future.
Even though he should succeed in my hyperthetical death
Where I would no longer exist to bare this worry,
I was still scared of what people might think of me after death.

when that woman who struck your eye
one day pirouettes
around the lettuce to the red ripe tomatoes
several spectators their carts
separate your
purchase  from your desire
a big woman loading potatoes
and carrots her steel cage overflowing with chickens
*** pies and saggy ****\donuts and little debbies chocolate
sugar pills
and then the two year old in her mother's shadow
wary of the tall signs declaring bargain
harbors amid the frenzy
of all the selections offered freely
fears to loose the hem of the plaid skirt
her mother threw on carelessly showing her
pale thighs
thinking of
a dinner she prepared
for a tall guy handsome and young
a lifetime ago (she thinks where
is he now)
as crisp as new
as the asparugus arranged in rows
before she got married
and your desire
a new aisle has gone
to the flour sacks and sugar yeast powdery
wares aisle number three
and your imagination flows from the staples you came to
make the hunger again refrain from
idling your days nights your everything
to her ankles how they are so feminine
and how cat like quick her long red nails
flick the gravy in a packet to the bottom
of her basket she
concentrates on only one task
which pancake mix to buy
and your ego flips and sizzles like that sacrificial first
crepe the dogs fight over
your mind a mess you follow now
unconcious
your cart wobbling
always seem to get the noisiest one
unbalanced one wheel wobbling
back and forth
unsure of itself
as she lingers near
the cake mixes hoping she takes the strawberry one
and cream cheese frosting in a can
pretend you do that you are interested perusing studying
the shake and bake varieties BBQ and Classic ******* the boxes
one  eye on her choicest picks
while all the time preoccupied with
calves  and the back of her knee  her green cape
her eyes her red nails long fingers
the way she shops
like a goddess near her
tenderness a gourmet's dream
the choicest cut of market new
still the people nod and push through
most not heeding you
on a supermarket quest a game to win
puzzle stacks of cereal on special
arranged like pyramids
almost mid-aisle
careful you return to
reality and just miss toppling the Raisin Bran
monument
she has turned the corner
aisle four now
her with the calfs and that hollow  
back of a leg behind her petite knee
a sash
gay green in perfect contrast
draped over her bare shoulders
to her auburn hair
her legs longer
and more agile and god
you have bad thoughts
imagining
wait you say, thinking to your sotted self
this cart is empty it may be obvious my aims
so you gather two bags of instant grits
one box of starch you will throw out
and salt enough to last you to eternity
faster now walk push the loud wobbly out of balance cart
the box of starch bouncing among the torn grits pouring
now a path Hansel and Gretel would be proud of
you turn the corner your heart sank when she had
gotten out of sight
and faster now your urge is known trying to think of an
opening line
what brings you here   hell no
are you a Sagitarius  *** you fumble
again she is in your sight and her neck as she looks up to select
paper towels from the top shelf
is like a bird one of those egrets long svelte white
her chin a perfect cliff
and she has this way
you can only dream of
then
**** she spies you looks sly smiling
think of something to say idiot
fast take that bottom lip out from between your teeth
look confident give her back some of that I don't care
attitude be debonair
which you suddenly ponder is hard to do in here
in aisle four when
her green eyes are burning holes
like lasers in your cheeks your nose
wipe the wetness off your lips
you look into your cart
spying the half empty grits and the trail you left behind
but now is not the time to stutter or worry or defer
it's now or never
and you trip
over your two left feet
and push as you fall down
your cart
takes flight
annoying wheel calling
into her side
as you die
she laughs and says in angel's purr
I saw you there when I came in
I wondered were you ever going to catch up
and suddenly the speaker loud screamed in a dark
omniscient voice clean up on aisle four
on your knees now looking up
the embarrasment a price tag flashing
red  
as any apple cheeks
all that came out your mouth was
so sorry Madam
so you bellied up
a chance you manly took
took her hand and gently kissed it
thinking how by god
have I been blessed
and the story did not end there
you both had grits for dinner
and strawberry cake with cream cheese icing
and you can find your way back to aisle four
to reminisce every time you need to smile
just follow that trail of grits

Butchers used to hang their pigs (ham) by the tendons (strings) in the back of the knee. The Hamstrings are actually 3 different muscles that work together to extend the hip    and flex the knee.
Basically the hamstrings most important job is to make sure your leg doesn’t fly off your body when you run.
Yes, Found words with capitals. Then there are cheeestrings which i find taste of  nothing
in particular.
He was not tongue tied in the medical sesnse, he stammered and was bullied over it. While
I stood by with love and embarrasment .
We have since learned a thing or more.
Then there is the thread to consider,                             yet I understand that some use thorns.
Stories continue of bound feet and
crippling
people.
He suggested that body dysmorhia may be at the heart of things.                                           bdd.
I fear he may be right.

Research Albino.

sbm.

what to say, when you cannot help.

smile, when the work is overflowing,
when nothing froths properly. milk is not
my favourite thing.

never has been.

those dependant on never eating.
much.

a pause, a comma,here and there, sometimes
confuse. yet know the difficult task comes
easy in time, with practice.

you may not think so when the machine explodes,
covers in embarrasment. there is another mill.

some times it feels awkward.

the looms are still working.

sbm.

i am the solo flight

signs & patterns

non sensical

i am the timer

the quiet time

i am a broken plate glued

reused

i was a mouse found hiding

i am embarrasment while others are not

i am reluctant

a hero

another life

i could be a leader if you listen to me

i am non binary without your finery

i am no one i may be someone

listen to me

Hope flies out the window fast
Bottom empty no repast,
Moment born of cancers’ child
Status hangs unreconciled
Woe be they who lay it thin
Who stalk these dark nights, plundering.
Woe be they who keep their guard
Abreast, and lo behold, ******
That which causes heart to sing
Despite the hurt imbued within.

Solitary, lonely way
Through this enigmatic day.

When, in truth,  potentials lie
Through yonder, bright magenta sky,
Through reams of iridescent verse
Orated daily, unrehearsed,
Bowls of olives, black, in oil
Turkish loaf, foccascia foil
laughing girls in skimpy skirts
Raucous till he belly hurts….

But futile in this state of woe
As bitter bile now sours the show.

Towering in halls of cloud
Mouthing ,hard, jawbone aloud
Struggling to hold intact
Counterpoints to interact,
Damning inconsistencies,
Weak deniability’s
Betrayal slides In cuts of time
Agonising back teeth grind
Quivering in searing pain
Every good, undone again.

Stalking hard to places thin
Solitude… eviscerating,

Emptiness imbues the light
Shatters soul in shoals of fright,
Delve hopelessly to hopeless ways
Scream as light refracts in waves,
Wallowing to places thin
Wavering to lost within.
Weakness in the cold half light
Shattered prospects drenched in fright,

Rabid eyes withdrawn in face
Incarcerate hot hatred’s trace.

Better now in light of day
Sunshine beaming in to play,
***** count resumes its gain
Flocculant reduces pain
Shame slides in the door ajar
Embarrasment impinged afar.

Amazing how a cup of tea
Resurects the life in me.


M.
14 April 2019

Dear struggling child of God,

I know you keep trying to steer the ship back to the shore. Back to safety and peace in God.

I know the storms seem tougher than you are and Christ seems more distant as the waves push you deeper into the sea.

You tell ourself, "tomorrow will be different," every night you close your eyes and wonder when God will be near again.

Holy Spirit seems gone.

And you're left trying to tame the madness and chaos that He's left you to deal with all alone.

When your tears are concealed by the anger of the storm, and you wonder if God truly left you to deal with the storm all by yourself.

Child, I know how much you long for things to be the same, for the Prince of Peace to calm the storm or help you walk on water.

The worse part is, no matter how hard you seem to try, He just doesn't seem to care.

Right?

I have no courage to give you, or wisdom to impart on you. I'd say in your weakness, He is strong, but how could I when the weakness seems greater than God Himself.

But I want you to know, holiness is a journey that's not easy to embark on.

To be sanctified in Jesus through the redeeming work of Holy Spirit, feels like a battle you'll never win.

And trying to steer to the safety of the shore, is like running against the wind.

But when you think God has not prepared you to face the harshness of the storm, remember Christ who become a child and chose to be born in a stable. A place not typically fit for the majestic glory of God Himself.

When your body is limp and weak, remember the King of Kings, who was slapped and beaten in shame and carried so much embarrasment that His own disciples abandoned Him.

Remember the garden of Gethsemane, when Yeshua chose the cup of suffering that we may share His glory and be an ambassador.

Remember how He chose the wrath of God, for the freedom of mankind. How his hands and feet bore the holes of disgrace that came with dying a sinners death.

Being an ambassador of the great King, means we bear an image that represents Him. Though there is glory, there is also suffering.

So be still even in the rage, even in the discomfort, knowing that the God who created the seas, will direct you to where you must go, not where you think you want to be.

Sincerely,
your struggling sister.

I'm an embarrasment
The clothes I wear; the way I talk
My short physique and my big head
I'm the subject of ridicule
And I can't do anything about it

I can't stop needing glasses
Or liking girls over boys
I can't talk without an accent
Or wear better quality clothes
I can't help being me...

Wearing my own skin
Looking at the world
through my own eyes
has become impossible