"kotch" poems
Strumming my pain with this paintbrush;
While singing my life with these chords
‘You are killing me softly’
By discriminating my sensuality towards my creativity!
The societal concept of embracing movements
And identifying the aesthetic value of the mind
Or the aesthetic concept of a painting with just
Two colours ‘Black and White’
Labelling the imitation of nature;
changing the concept of gravity.
You see!
The mind-set against me
Is killing me softly!
Why don’t you just love me!
Accept me and my uncommon norms
That expresses all elements of society.
I am not all about practicality
but theory and ingenuity.
Can you imagine how I turn your boredom
into entertainment?
Can you imagine if I was dead?
Your misery, would be such a misery
Because I contribute to eliminate
Misery by turning such misery
into artistry.
But the perception of me
is not just 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th or 5th position
but far- fetched and non- existence.
Watering the marketing fruits
Of medicine, accounting, law,
mediocrity and other fruits that are eligible
to your nature.
While I sit on the side of civil agony,
fighting for your attention; for you to water me.
I’ve been discriminated
And violated by the words
Of the hegemonic community
Who strums my pain
With their mouths;
While I sing my life
With these chords
‘You are killing me softly’
I am more than just your
Rolly Polly-Jambalassi- masquerader or One drop movement
I am not just your pick me up
When you want me to tell your
La Diabless story or sing to you future fantasy!
I am more than just your ordinary
Kotch pon di programme, bubble gyal ah bubble,
Misty Blue, All of me, Turn down for what lullaby!
I am more than just a Point or Flex!
You see the point is - society need to
Adopt me, nurture me, dispatch all
Hegemonic forces against me
And Flex on my actions
Because right now “THIS ARTISTIC STRUGGLE IS TOO REAL"
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 5:52 PM UTC
I am a little boy again
Is the supermarket empty?
I am the ugly duckling
Is there life outside the pond?
I am a cub in a giant cage
Is there a zookeeper?
I heard there was an oasis beyond the desert
My warmth adds up, the numbers don’t
My spirit searches, my mind wanders
There are a billion faces behind my own
Is one of them me?
I clutch my teddy, violated
Looking for a lake to wash in
I slap on a face before I go out
Zane, Zack, Z’karyah, kotch, Psalmspitter,
Tenderfoot, Buddha, Dylan, Matthew, MiaR
I look for shalom, but find chaos
A thousand roads forward and back
Do any of them lead me home?
Where? What is that?
Sides draw battle lines, I am cut in two, or three, or four
As the little boy inside me tries
To figure out what to search for.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 4:23 PM UTC