"extremely" poems
Out here there are no hearthstones,
Hot grains, simply. It is dry, dry.
And the air dangerous. Noonday acts queerly
On the mind's eye erecting a line
Of poplars in the middle distance, the only
Object beside the mad, straight road
One can remember men and houses by.
A cool wind should inhabit these leaves
And a dew collect on them, dearer than money,
In the blue hour before sunup.
Yet they recede, untouchable as tomorrow,
Or those glittery fictions of spilt water
That glide ahead of the very thirsty.
I think of the lizards airing their tongues
In the crevice of an extremely small shadow
And the toad guarding his heart's droplet.
The desert is white as a blind man's eye,
Comfortless as salt. Snake and bird
Doze behind the old maskss of fury.
We swelter like firedogs in the wind.
The sun puts its cinder out. Where we lie
The heat-cracked crickets congregate
In their black armorplate and cry.
The day-moon lights up like a sorry mother,
And the crickets come creeping into our hair
To fiddle the short night away.
30.8k
You see my brown skin
And assume I'm a ****
You see my hijab
And assume I'm a terrorist.
You see the smile on my face
And assume I'm happy.
You hear my words
And assume I'm okay.
But I am not.
Instead I am broken.
Yet I am also strong.
I am dark and rule-following.
I am peaceful and Muslim.
You assume based on
Society's POV.
If you smile
You must be happy.
Fox, CNN, any media
Tells you I am a terrorist.
So the names I get called
And the extra security checks
Are extremely upsetting.
The murders of black folk
Is either considered appropriate
Or it's "black on black crime"
So it's not taken seriously.
Who are you gonna believe
Me or those who don't know me?
Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 7:34 PM UTC
My Bipolar Disorder is a stout-bodied mammal with horns and cloven hooves.
There are two types of My Bipolar Disorder:
Domestic, and Mountain.
My Bipolar disorder typically spends its days grazing on grasses
My Bipolar Disorder will dig depressions in the ground to sleep, rest, and bathe in.
My Bipolar disorder is super social during the winter, and tends to go solo during the summer.
My Bipolar Disorders tail usually points up! (Unless it is frightened or sick)
My Bipolar Disorder is extremely Curious and Intelligent.
Once My bipolar disorder has discovered a weakness in its fence, it will exploit it repeatedly.
There are over 300 distinct breeds of My Bipolar Disorder.
Within' minutes of being born, my Bipolar Disorder is up and walking around.
My bipolar disorder used to live in the white house with Abraham Lincoln.
One day an ethiopian Herder walked in on My Bipolar Disorder liteally bouncing off of cliff walls because it just Discovered Coffee.
My Bipolar Disorder has four stomachs
The horns of My Bipolar Disorder are typically removed to reduce injury to humans.
My Bipolar disorder will explore anything new or unfamiliar in its surroundings, mainly with its mouth and tongue.
My bipolar disorder readily reverts to the wild if given the opportunity.
My Bipolar Disorder is more susceptible to Parasites and other infectious diseases when it is mismanaged.
My bipolar disorder has had a lingering connection with Satanism and pagan religions
My Bipolar Disorder is considered a "clean" animal by jewish dietary laws.
According to Zeus
As long as you leave it's bones whole,
My Bipolar disorder will keep coming back to life.
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 1:19 PM UTC
I have a dream & some desires,
Let there be contentment for me,
And no one should have for me, ire.
My list of desires isn't endless,
I actually require, not just need, her,
And for meeting her family's, particularly her father's, expectations.
When I'll have her in the delivery room,
Then I will just be praying to time,
And wishing our combined life to be peacefully happy and content extremely.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
As i walk down the hall many people i see
Different lives are lived so different are we
from each other
She's happy, he's mad
That kid is suicidal
we no not of others peoples life yet we think we do
what good does someone else's life do to yours
we are all different with different lives
He has tattoos she is well dressed
one might be extremely nice while the other
gossips of her friends
Again what does someone else life have to do with yours
is your life not exciting enough that you
must talk of someone else's
If so what a sorry life you must live.
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 12:52 PM UTC
A hairy ball of energy
Who loves to run and play,
Whose tricks and tomfoolery
Would brighten any day.
Almost hyperactive,
Without doubt lively,
Incredibly inquisitive,
Exploring constantly.
Chewing on everything,
Peeing everywhere,
Not fond of house training
but slowly getting there.
Extremely mischievous,
Just wants to have fun,
Loves to get pets from us,
Each and everyone.
Yapping so excitedly
At everyone and everything,
Such an incredibly funny
Lovable little thing.
Who looks at us imploringly
With great big brown eyes
That we fell in love totally
Should come as no surprise
This lovely little puppy
Right from the start
Became one of the family,
Captured every ones heart.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 3:46 AM UTC
LGBT.
You may have never heard of this acronym before,
Or maybe you associate it with liberals, or Obama,
Or hippies.
LGBT stands for:
Lesbian:
I was approached by a straight man
At a gay bar, who asked me if
I wanted to 'have a good time'.
I told him no.
I could see something in his eyes
Flicker, and he asked me why
I told him I only liked women
In that regard
He stood up angrily,
And told me that I was an
Ugly d*ke anyway.
LGBT stands for
Gay:
I was holding hands with
My boyfriend while
We were walking in the park.
We watched an older woman
Walk up to us and say,
"You're going to hell."
I said, "I'll see you there,"
She glared at me before
Storming off in a rage,
mumbling, "Disgusting f*g."
On her way.
LGBT stands for
Bisexual:
I came out to my family today.
My cousin said,
"You're just confused."
My father said,
"Don't you dare walk in
My house with a f*ggot."
My mother said,
"Pick a side."
My supposed "friends" said,
"You're just desperate and greedy."
I've been dating an amazing person
That I can never share if I want to
Stay on good terms with "family".
LGBT stands for
Transgender:
I binded my chest today
With Ace bandages even though
I know it's extremely unsafe
Because I didn't want to be
Seen as a girl again.
I finally cut my own hair
And when I told my mom why
She told me,
"Leave before your father gets home."
I am sleeping on my friend's couch tonight
Because my parents couldn't accept me
As their son.
You might associate the acronym LGBT
With liberals.
Liberals that don't use their religion as an
Excuse when they're really just scared.
Or Obama who said, "No one in America
Should be scared to walk down the street
Holding the hand of the person they love."
Or hippies who refuse to conform to
Heteronormativity, because it only matters
That you love, the who or when or where or why or
How
Doesn't matter nearly as much.
People are more than their secondary ***
Characteristics.
"Love thy neighbor as thyself", right?
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 10:02 PM UTC
We can't go backwards
But if we could it would be
To that very night
Holding each other
Time standing still
And a blissful,
Extremely tender
Loving innocence
Surrounding us
No passion
Just simple love
Where a simple touch
Can sing a hundred songs
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
I have been doing a lot of work with my feelings lately. I have avoided them for most of my life because, well the bad ones outweigh the good ones.
The rest of them were f@#ked or beaten out of me.
I have always believed that my feelings only led to trouble and pain. A simple feeling stated as a child sent me tumbling down a rabbit hole of horrific pain. An innocent smile was interpreted to be nothing but filthy desire. A frown was nothing but blatant rebellion that had to be dealt with.
My thinking is extremely black and white. Good or bad. Right or wrong. But what I'm learning is that feelings don't fall easily into any of those categories. The classifications that I have used to reason my life into some semblance of order do not work for feelings.
So walking in this grey area is very difficult for me. I cannot make much sense of what I allow myself to feel and if I do, I get stuck. The detachment I have felt to my memories is slowly being bridged by the missing feelings. And that is terrifying.
I have always been able to share, matter of factly, the details I have chosen to disclose. And I'm very afraid that those details were the easy ones; the ones I could disconnect from and push the feelings onto someone else.
Remember those rabbit holes? When I find the feelings associated with that pain it's like falling down that hole bound, gagged, and blindfolded. My logic was my only means of control and I've lost it amongst the feelings. The only way to climb out of that hole?
Literally feel my way out.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
Things can only disrupt you as much as you allow.
If this seems hard to see or needlessly abstract,
consider the Factor that is Self-Discipline:
If any factor equals Zero,
the product is also Zero.
-
I mean this in a general sense; applied over time.
Things can be extremely bothersome in any given moment
but once those bothersome moments
reach forwards (and maybe even backwards) in time
******* up a perfect good "Now" then,
I say that it's a bothersome burden
which is (most probably) a result of unresolved internalized conflicts or Shadow.
This is where Self-Discipline becomes a Factor
and my analogy takes flight, in context.
Maybe it's only true for me, but I have my suspicions that I am not so unique in this way.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 9:42 PM UTC
#STICK’EM UP with LIQUID NAILS
DANGER ! EXTREMELY FLAMMABLE
See Other Caution on Back Panel:
I’m hot for you Cowgirl – you’re so flammable my glue-gun starts to melt; my screwdriver starts twisting when you loosen that low-slung belt. You make me feel like laying re-bar in a freshly-poured foundation. Shoot me up with that caulk gun baby – I need you like salvation. Ten and one-half fluid ounces – pull off your top, pop a love-cap in me. Fingerin’ your trigger while the job is gettin’ bigger so take me for a ride to the hardware store, honey, cause I’m seeing red and feeling white on your golden background’s sheer delight. Hammer me a heart-full, spike me on a cross of blonde, I’m hanging ten, surfing the tube of your magic wand. I’ve been in love ever since I first waterproofed my seamy undersides with you… stand over me in those red, red boots, you Liquid Nails Girl – and from your pure white Stetson let righteousness unfurl. You won the shoot-out long before you even drew, my dear. Lost hope of the Wild West, Final Frontal Feminine Frontier – there’s only one side of you… your GOOD side. Just one look and your fearless gaze silences the foes, my blooming prairie rose.
YEE – HAW ! Be my angel, be my dream, my valentine rodeo queen, be my bodyguard, my therapist, long & tall & hard & wet – be my Liquid Nails Girl forever and I’ll ride right into your sunset…
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 9:28 PM UTC
It is so real to me.
I see it's harmless name everywhere, and it looks so innocent off of the context of your skin.
It haunts me where ever it is or whatever state it is in, and it is so shadowed to me.
But also extremely real, and vivid.
So chilling, but it also sets me to fire.
I see other harmless names and I am foreign to the lands of those graves.
I am glad, but I hate that this stands out to me.
I am walking the path of the graveyard, and will I fall in to my likely grave?
Or will I break off onto the swept path?
I will not know, but I am passing the graves of others who have succumb to the rough grips of these names.
And on these graves there are things written, telling what pushed and buried them in these graves.
And I see many empty graves and blank headstones ahead.
I know that mine may be waiting for me, and self harm is pushing me along the path to it.
Still, I am pushing back and I will ***** the swept path with my muddy feet.
And once I am there I will run far away and never let myself be pushed again.
I will not be buried in the dirt of self harm.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
To my beloved father who's no longer with us; I wish you were here to see me now.
I'm the little girl in a grown up body who grew up to be a woman you can be proud of.
I miss you dearly my beloved father who gets half of the credit for my being on this earth.
I've a great appreciation of your patient and learned words; I followed in your foot steps.
Feel blue at times because you left before I had the chance to tell you how much I love you.
We both know you're looking down and rooting for me as I experience parenting first hand.
I know your job wasn't easy and I understood when you said no; it was with good reason.
But that little girl in me often wishes you were still here for that occasional heart to heart.
Miss you and always be grateful and never forget what you taught through great example.
Never "ever" saying, "Do as I say kid, but turn blind eyes away from Dad's bad actions".
I'll always be thankful for you showing me integrity in words that mirrored your actions.
I'm grateful you allowed me to make mistakes and gently guided me with your wisdom.
From you I learned; No matter how much life pushes you to extremes, you keep fighting.
From you I learned; Love and respect of life even when faced with hate born from illogic.
From you I learned; Love self enough to set free all that damages physically & emotionally.
From you I learned; To proudly stand alone when necessary, never to cower; face my fears.
Though your life on this planet was cut short, what you taught will last infinite life times.
You were the kind of dad everyone loved and admired; you brought joy by your presence.
There are so many things I vividly remember about you and shared with my own children
You worked extremely hard to provide for us and showed Nothing worthwhile is ever easy
Happy Father's Day 2013 to my beloved father and all dads every where!
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 8:39 AM UTC
You're like a rose blossoming into a beautiful flower.
One I could look at for hours.
You're like a star high lighting the sky.
You a good man love surprise.
You're extremely wonderful.
You're extremely charming.
You are worthy of adoration.
Yes, you are.
I'm fond of you.
Proud to call you, my adorable you.
If I'm loving you too much.
Then it be up to you to leave.
I refuse to love you less.
Cause you been the best thing to happen to me.
Yes you.
And I forever call you, my adorable you.
This I will confess.
As long as I have breath.
I'm going to go out of my way to please you.
Call me love sick.
Call me silly.
I just don't care.
You deserve more.
To me.
You're a good example of love.
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 10:01 PM UTC
Thank you Eric for being my friend. YOu
Have taught me how it feels to be Have Real Love,
how it feels to have someone there for you
when you need them the most !you're taught me to love Jesus you taught me that people are all different and unique in their own ways and it's okay to love them just the way they are
with no judgement.
you've also taught me that being in love means you have to think about the other person before you think about yourself! *for example you think about the things that you're lover wants and you get them those things. for you thinking about what they want
Makes you happy
you tell me that people struggle but having people that trust you is very important because without having trust without having the ability to believe in someone fully you are nothing you're not worth anything and you are worthless as a person
you have to actually give your word and have it mean something in order for you to completely give yourself to the other person I trust you with my life you are my best friend you never give up on me
.
you never stay mad at me.
I know it's because you have Jesus! you are the reason I have more faith! The reason I seek the Lord if it wasn't for you I probably would be dead!!! I have heard so many things about people saying that you are crazy maniac and that you would **** me in a heartbeat
You might hurt me
but you have never done that besides the words verbal abase.
But that's yours only defense
Against
Me because that's your only way of hurting me and you know that it does that exactly you. But most the time I do deserve it Cuz im not the easiest person sometimes im stubborn and selfish and rude and ****** And you put up with until you can't anymore then You (Man handle the situation and put me in my place ("slap in the face") ** IM IN A REALITY CHECK .
I say sorry
Eric the amazing
Your so extremely
amazing, caring, selfless, worthy
You are a Angel that is Heaven sent a gift from God
you are a perfect example of what God meant when he said he would find me someone that would teach me how to be a better person. if I wanted to be that better person grab hold and stop messing around
Sto running.
I want to be a better person
you make me a better person!
I honestly am glad to call you my friend, my best friend, my lover, the love of my life and my guardian angel you might not ever read this but least I got it out in the open no lies just me telling it like it is!
Jun 30, 2017
Jun 30, 2017 at 4:22 PM UTC
I’m Biracial.
Which did you notice first?
The me that looks like you or the me that looks like other?
There is no denying what I am—
from my last name to the shape of eyes,
you’ll know I’m not white.
But you’ll also immediately notice
I’m not quite not white.
I’m not quite not white enough.
White-passing.
“extremely” white passing until:
someone sees my last name
takes longer than five seconds to look at me
notices something “other” about me.
Other...
not one box to check on your
“optional” choose one diversity survey
Can’t check White. Can’t check Asian.
other...“Decline to Answer”
I’m Biracial. White-passing—
but not enough to stop ignorance
ignorance in the form of
questions and comments
meant to be “harmless” or “curious”
but ones that strip me of defining my own identity
“So are you a math Asian or a **** Asian?”
“You don’t look Asian enough for your last name.”
“Why are you trying to whitewash yourself for them?”
“Diversity quota”
And in comparison, those aren’t the worst things to hear.
By age ten I knew which words were meant to hurt
and which were meant out of ignorance.
Which racial slur applied to me.
I’m Biracial.
The same system that builds up half of me tears down the other half.
But— The model minority myth means something to you.
So you’ll build my other half up at the expense of someone else.
You’ll make me feel uncomfortable in my own identity
to fit what you need in the circumstances
Statistics to fit your workplace diversity quota
But still white passing so you can use micro aggressions as a joke
because I’m “white enough” that they should be funny.
I’m Biracial. Not other.
Not part you and part not you.
Not “missing” something.
I am wholly biracial.
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 4:50 AM UTC
I am tired, really tired...
I am tired of my talents not being recognized
I am tired of constantly proving myself
I am tired of being disabled
I am so tired...
Tired of not belonging
Tired of being invisible
Tired of being worthless
I am very, very tired...
I am tired of exchanging fake smiles
I am tired of meaningless conversations
I am tired of appearing dumb so as to get help
I am just tired...
Tired of being useless
Tired of failing
Tired of not dreaming
I am extremely tired...
I am tired of being apologetic
I am tired of being left out
I am tired of being ugly
What I am I saying?
What am I really tired of?
Why am I tired?
I am tired...
Tired of being speechless
Tired of being powerless
Tired of being afraid
In fact, I am broken down...
Broken down by being black
Broken down by being African
Broken down by being primitive
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 11:30 PM UTC
I met with a man today,
although
not so much a man as….
a boyish adult.
He told me he liked me,
or perhaps “loved” would be
a better description.
I was showered with things that most
people would love to hear constantly:
Compliments.
I…..am not one of those people.
Now, that’s just the oversimplified version.
A more detailed explanation would go like this:
I met with a man today,
although
not so much a man as…
a boyish adult.
We went out for lunch,
and left there around five hours later.
For the first three,
we were doing all right.
Managing to have pleasant conversation
we even discussed our views on religion.
The last two hours
however
I am not sure how I managed to endure.
He told me he had "fallen in love with me",
and that every word I spoke had him falling deeper.
I explained that I have absolutely zero interest in any such things
*(love, romance, all that jazz other people crave,
you know how it is)*
I however, am not capable of feeling those sorts of attractions.
(don't want to be either)
As I spoke, he would reply by saying he was falling harder...
that I was pretty, handsome, cute, beautiful….etc.
Not a word of what I said went into his head.
***And I knew it from the expression on his face,
that I was only being viewed as something to conquer.
To…..”fix”.***
That made the compliments even worse.
***I hate compliments to begin with,
at least ones in regards to my appearance.
For me, they are one of the worst triggers
on my extremely long list.
So is being treated like I’m broken.***
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 3:20 AM UTC
I'm numb
Everything around me doesn't feel real
Everyone around me doesn't feel real
I'm so extremely exhausted of everything that I have no clue how much longer I can take
It's hard to believe that "It gets better"
I'm numb
I'm tired
I just want to be gone
-te
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 10:42 PM UTC
I am a controlling boyfriend.
No, I am not a male, nor do I have a girlfriend to abuse. But I am the crazy stalker controlling boyfriend.
I have realized something in myself:
I am free with my boy and his casual flirtations, but am extremely jealous and possessive of my girls, when I have one.
Or even in my present case of not having one, I want to possess her as she has possessed me. I want all your time, all your thoughts, as you inhabit mine.
“How do you handle the jealousy??" It's funny, I don't get jealous when I have both partners in my bed, or in my arms. That is when I’m most content.
I get jealous when outsiders are flirtatious or show interest. It's also funny, I'm more annoyed when people flirt with him thinking he’s unattached.
I don't get it either; just a quirk of mine.
Perhaps my nonchalance with my boy is merely grown out of our time together. In nearly seven years, not one has managed to create a rift. Those who have tried have failed, and he and I have come out the better.
Patience is a virtue I do not possess, and the longer I go on incomplete... mayhap my own fears make me dig my claws into a new potential. Fear that someone else will charm such a rare unicorn away from me/us, and we’ll be left again, searching.
Nor is this a new feeling, for this young woman. A year ago, I felt the same overwhelming possessiveness. Then again, it would not do to compare the two; they are two different people, who hold different qualities.
The bitter jealousy I now project I have tasted before. The shock that I’ve become my own controlling high school boyfriend fills me with disgust.
Unbeknownst to her, I imagine her not only in my bed, in my arms, in my life… but also on my knee. I’ve never before considered someone as both lover and submissive.
Unbeknownst to me, would that make my jealousy grow or fade, were I to possess her in every way I’ve imagined?
Obviously I have some things to work on.
Firstly, finding our unicorn.
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 1:46 PM UTC
You were like a natural disaster to our lives.
While we played in a field.
No warning.
You appeared...
You struck and we lay scattered on that field...
In tears.
Confused.
In pain.
Broken inside out.
No longer just children.
Victims to young to understand that we were forever changed.
To young to understand why we felt ***** and guilty.
The threats and fear, made us silent...
Fear and interrogation made me lie.
You left us in that open space forever, no matter where we went.
And our lives were taken...
Our parents were broken, because parents break when thier children are hurt.
And my lie...
My lie forever changed my protectors life.
My fear made me hurt another.
We were so young...
Some not old enough for school.
Our fear allowed the disaster to strike others...
Now as adults we know a new guilt.
But we were so young.
This very unnatural disaster still walks the earth...
Somebody gives this pervert comfort...
But we are forever changed.
Stronger today, yes...
But never again as free as before he stole our innocence.
This disaster turned our world upside down, and revisited us for years taking more of us each time he put his disgusting hands on us.
I'm not to religious, but I believe in God.
I have yet to know the reason for this, except that we are great protective parents...
And as I believe there's a God...
I know there is also a hell.
And while God tells us to forgive...
I have yet to forgive even myself for being so full of fear, because it allowed him to walk free and hurt us again and again, and others through time.
There is no part of us sacred or untouched by that evil...
No matter who knows our story, there's no person not even eachother who understands the depth of our individual torment.
The unfair torture of feeling an isolated, unexplainable, personal taste of evil.
Like a natural disaster, he struck us down...
Children at play made victims of a child molester.
Survivor's!
Of a sick family member's distgusting taste for extremely young children.
We can't say we are ok.
We refuse to say you are anything more then a creature that has not yet met God's wrath.
And dare not say, you to know abuse...
Dare not say you found God...
God and abuse will find you when your six feet under.
I know I sin as I write this...
But to forgive...
As a mother myself...
Well that's it's not in me.
Do unto others...
Do unto others, that's how I live.
Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 6:21 PM UTC
Peer pressure, peer pressure
My name is peer pressure,
My father is doubt,
My mother is duress,
My sister is bad choices,
My brother is nervous energy
I was born in a cyclone of negativity
Whipping through an ocean of people
They're the tribe of the unrest
I know im extremely unwanted
But im here anyways at all times
Peer pressure, peer pressure
Is my name
No one is immune from me
Neither the young, the teen nor the old
I'm evil
I wreak havoc and strife
To the human race
I ruin people's lives
First,
I offer illusions of enjoyment
And pleasure to them
Till when
I take their greatest
Treasure
Till when
I see them departing
From all that is correct
Till when
No more goodness nor kindness
Is detected from them
Till when
Their morals and goodness
Have gone into decay
Till when
I see their senses sedated
And all their energy depleted
Till when
I see them
F
A
L
T
E
R
I
N
G
Till when
I see tears of regrets
Turn into cries of despair
Till when
I see there is nobody
They can turn unto
Peer pressure, peer pressure
Is my name
Those who grant me to their lives,
I make sure i become
A silhouette of lies to their lives
Till when
They're always
M-i-n-e
Frozen in time
Hopeless forever
Till when
I see them
Completely gone astray
Furthermore,
Pile on the agony
For that is pleasing
To my father Satan
B
E
N
E
A
T
H
Peer pressure, peer pressure
Is my name
"Alas!" Beware when making me your friend
Because i might end up
D
R
A
G
G
I
N
G
You to self destruction.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 6:13 AM UTC
the amount of melanin in my skin often seems to conjure up some controversy so when I sit down to write and I see my hands, my light skinned not quite black but surely not white hands I think about the privileges thrusted upon me and when I begin to write I feel my hair against my back, my curly ***** but not quite ***** hair I wonder how what's on my head could make what's in it so frazzled
I often frustrate myself because I feel like my writing often centers around the fact that I am a woman and I am colored
and the fact that when I say I'm colored some look lost
in fact, in the film, for colored girls
Thandie Newton's character says "being alive and being a woman is all I got, but being colored is a metaphysical dilemma I haven't conquered yet."
and I found it frightening how relatable that was to me, being that I'm not quite almost a woman and not quite almost colored
but when I look at my poems they reflect that I indeed am
even though I'm lightskinned and I'm 16 and according to my white friends I'm, just like them because, as I've discovered our definitions of what a black girl sounds like and acts like and is like are extremely different
and I guess that reflects on who we've been introduced to
I have cousins and aunts and grandmothers and sisters
who represent what I believe emulate what a black woman is
and these white kids see what the media feeds about how black women walk and talk and act and lack
see when I picture a black woman I see beautiful smooth chocolate skin full lips round ******* wide hips and a smile as brilliant as her mind
when these kids picture a black woman they see ***** hair dark undesirable skin soup cooler lips and a mind filled with ignorance
and this is where my struggle begins
But in every ethnic group there is good and bad
and I am sick of black women only being associated with the bad
the fact that when most non blacks think of what a black woman is, they imagine an unintelligible mindless sassy loud mouth is over whelming to me
if you're skin isn't light enough or your behind isn't big enough you're only "pretty for a black girl"
I not only want to raise but destroy all expectations society gives black women
but I cannot do this alone
because we are smart and we are beautiful
we are troubled and we are strong
and we are one
once we stop tearing eachother down we can all be one
and I'm not sure why god blessed black women with so much beauty or why I'm so blessed to be one or why he put this determination in me but I think I will recognize it the day the world recognizes how beautiful are we.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 4:20 AM UTC
It's frosty outside.
Just simple cold.
Just standing in the grass almost make my hands froze.
Here I am standing out in he Monday morning cold.
It was just a few minutes ago.
With you by myside.
I was feeling Monday Morning warmth.
If it wasn't for love.
I wouldn't be outside.
But you came up with this idea to take a walk.
Cause you wanted to do something different.
Listen if it wasn't for love.
I know I wouldn't be here.
Cause Monday morning cold will never be my best friend.
Now, as for the Monday morning warmth.
Which I extremely enjoyed.
You just might get me to journey once more.
Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 7:30 AM UTC