"leniency" poems
acting is a lot easier than people let you believe.
First you pick a person,
some sort of simple, easy, fun-loving personality
some range of phrases for said personality
mixed in with reactions of course, and
BAM
you got the gist.
my character is funny in the way that they're sort of me.
I'm very fake.
I've got this habit, you see, this habit of smiling and laughing.
"it's fine, it's funny we're laughing."
I'm the therapist, they come to me, I help.
I collect shards and paste them together
abandoning my own flayed pieces,
ignoring my own shattered self.
But that's okay!
See that's okay!!
Because J!
J!
J doesn't mind being stepped on!
OH ** **
J DOESN'T MIND BEING USED AND TORMENTED!
NO NO CONTINUE PLEASE!
J doesn't MIND only being talked to when others need something!
Please, go ON!
Because J!
J WILL LET YOU?
and why?
maybe it's the separation anxiety
or abandonment issues
or the fear of being alone in a general way
or a fear of being hated
maybe it's because J is so ****** use to being treated like a
******* DOORMAT!
that it doesn't even phase them anymore
it doesn't even matter anymore
it's part of the normal world
day-to-day life!
. . .
I smile a lot.
I laugh a lot.
More than most.
More than I should.
Some would argue that it's simply too much
am I trying too hard with it?
is it somehow obvious?
. . .
I left my first period to the bathroom. and proceeded to
sit down on the hate this word
and yet i couldn't cry?
WHY?
someone else was in the bathroom.
I wanted NEEDED some sort of a break
and yet J
and yet I
I could not give myself leniency.
Even alone
even if the person there didn't matter.
So when she left, a shed I still could not cry
and i split skin instead.
I had planned it for a while
nowhere near deep enough of course
couldn't be caught bleeding all around the school.
I had my blades in the bag,
I tucked them into my pocket.
some of the juice splattered itself onto tile floor
onto blue jeans
onto hate this word paper
wrapping itself around my arms,
pleading with me to please, please stop.
but who the **** cares
because
. . .
I smile a lot.
Mar 23, 2021
Mar 23, 2021 at 9:39 AM UTC
21st century slavery: Shayn Powell
Take a look around,
It’s 2018.
What do you see?
Everything looks fine,
People striding in glee?
Look hard for it may
Be a mystery,
That we’re living through
21st century slavery.
We claim these are
The lands of the free.
It’s a fib, that’s not at
All what it seems.
Because if it were
the land of the free
than Martin Luther King may
never have had his dream.
There wouldn’t have
Been a march for
Freedom in 1963.
And Mr King wouldn’t
Have lost his life
For standing up in
What everyone
Should've believed.
Take a look around,
It’s 2018.
What do you see?
Everything looks fine,
People striding in glee?
Look hard for it may
Be a mystery,
That were living through
21st century slavery.
America, “land of the free”
Were fine we claim,
living in prosperity.
“Everyone’s equal”,
You’ve heard it too, How silly
Don’t you agree?
My best friend
Rolled his window up
when he saw a policeman.
It’s sad, But this is the
reality we live in.
“We’re equal” but we
Strip kids from their dreams
Because they were brought here
Against their will illegally.
Have some leniency,
Then again you’re
changing their scenery.
How can you do that
So easily?
And what’s this ****
we learned in history?
Jim Crow laws?
Thank god those are gone.
Or so we thought
You’re not sneaky America,
Mass incarceration is
Nothing but a plot
For a group of minorities
To be 2nd class citizens
To us all.
That’s evil that should leave
everyone appalled.
It’s time for a call
For action.
All this arrogance
Has left us distracted
From what our nation
claims to practice.
Because
Take a look around,
It’s 2018.
What do you see?
Everything’s NOT fine,
People AREN'T striding in glee.
Really look for it’s
Not hard to see
That were living through
21st century slavery.
Yours truly,
That worried white kid
Who lives in a society
That’s unruly.
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 10:17 PM UTC
O-One has been kept waiting for a long spell
N-Not knowing if one can get out of this hell
E-Endless days one has spent in an unlit well
H-Hope seems not to be journeying one's way
U-Under clouds of darkness one shall e'er stay
N-Never shall one see a bright sunny day ray
D-Deemed to be unfit to walk that old hallway
R-Realizing this fact sure makes one feel gray
E-Excluded from the folks at the homely bay
D-Dare one say one is mired in a boggy clay
A-All is lost one can't redeem one's former place
N-Negotiations with other are now a void space
D-Dear me one is in a position of sheer disgrace
E-Ever so badly one did behave all that time ago
I-In hindsight good manners needed to be the go
G-Grave is one's standing and so very full of woe
H-Heck the word one called when one had to go
T-Tidings of ejection delivered by the boss honcho
Y-Yonder one was told on the spot to quickly go
D-Down in the dumps one has been for so long
A-Away at a lone outpost well out of the throng
Y-Yearning to once again hear their joyful song
S-So one is on an island for those who do wrong
O-Only three chances did one get at that game
F-Four weren't going to be allotted to this dame
F-Folly to think that one could avoid any shame
L-Leniency not given one has to wear the claim
I-In the finally wash up one's lesson is to be tame
N-Needling the boss honcho scrubbed one's name
E-Erased one shall be for being a bad egg dame
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 3:38 AM UTC
foam floral caps, work of wet hydrangea,
or pulse of caucasian lilacs in a sky-relieved frieze.
cambric pennons swag reconsidering
margins of wimpling burn,
wherein the stars…twiring stars,
the declining stars, moon and planets
turned--
purchase light with morning-hands:
green-bedizened;
amber trammeling bud.
absolve qualm suffusing tyre,
violet’s violent leniency--
and feel, o’bask! in velvet
flume of veins,
as beams of conspiracy raise
to post and lintel,
crutching a young god’s legs--
and feel, o’supplicate! bathe in
day’s anatomies,
til greave deposit in lacunary sleeves,
and a genuflecting sun bow eternally--
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 6:38 PM UTC
I wonder where i would be ,
wonder if somehow or maybe.
Where the world would have took
I who was too afraid to look
would I be in space on planet mars?
be floating above, up there with the stars?
Look beneath the big blue waves
beneath the sand or inside the caves.
the sound of my heart lost to comfort
big in regrets and deeply encumbered
blue, it is stagnant in it's hollow
waves crashing against it ready to swallow
For I regret not having been curious.
I forsake the days i settled for less
regret not having followed adventure
not finding myself in the process.
having wasted my time with such adult ways
been ****** into their incurious gaze
curious was I before those days.
Myself, who are you, i will never know
who is this person who gave up on tomorrow
are all my hopes now gone like how curiosity left me?
you have given up hope to ever find glee?
I sit among the "what if" shadows
will I ever really find my purpose?
never will i get back the time I have lost
know I will make up for it at any cost
Everyday I will search not a moment I will waste
I will rush into the coming days with haste
will I have ample time to ever find me?
search I shall with all leniency.
not a storm so large will make me sway
a large pay check will not take me away
moment I find myself I will say
"I am greater than I am yesterday"
will I find what i am looking for?
waste no time I am ready for more.
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 7:58 PM UTC
In Truth;
Should it matter what we really are? Or should we let our true colors shine?
Being held alive, but only in a straightjacket, learning you are bisexual?
Getting the doctors' notice that you are bipolar, or just being merely different?
Should we be ashamed, from the words that pass from behind each of our lips?
Should we simply hear the music, in which is played by the melody that you create by your own hands?
Should we repress out the truest of our colors so the rest of society cannot see the difference?
Dear Mika;
Say Goodbye; to the world you thought you lived in, to the world I thought I lived in
Where society was all strange, with no definite curve, without any hesitation from the ignorance
Now, the bitter and sour taste behind swollen tongues in disgust of what they only think they see
Spitting acid upon those they are lead to believe are sinners, disgraceful, and unrighteous
As they hold out a helping hand, disciplining to correct atrocious mistakes they believe you made
But you are only human, and they peeled through the defenses of pride and confidence you had built up
Take a bow;
And say Farewell, to a society filled with leniency, with the hatred branded hearts breathing fire
In any other world you, could be the difference. To change the rankings of what is right, and what is wrong
But here, you have had to give up your defenses and to let go of the emotions that create this difference
Although society believes that there are two choices to be made, and you have chosen the incorrect side
All you can do is hold your head up higher than the rest, and have skin made of diamonds and steel
Because; it is as if the World wishes to believe that the molecules in your DNA strands are not the same, and gravity doesn't affect you any longer
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 5:27 PM UTC
*hazard of counting time and words
~
stoops to foolhardy pacing
wit-clogs hardly ever silent*
1.
how seconds fall flat on its innocent face;
loss of hands - clock no help at all
as feelings croak in embrace of premature words;
rig a string tight, not long after your first day
2.
you didn’t know that where you were sent
all in good faith
put you plain on a danger-path ….. what sick traps awaited
(and yet, exculpa non-fini)
for, how could you fathom
that trusted hands and friendly eyes
coaxed your trust,
engaged in
what they never should...
*the only sane thing to do
is to live by
the second….the minute….the hour …..
no more
failing which, is
scraping by
on the leniency
of
second chances*
S T, 22 aug - thur
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 7:09 AM UTC
legs forced wide awake
being *****
by the gaping black hole
of nothingness
...
oh **** it...
go ahead...
have at it.
incapable of even
pathetically
grasping for air
or begging for leniency
as they shovel
handfuls of oily, greasy
chunks
of societal lard
and ****
down your throat.
you lie back
and recede
(but not even into yourself)
for they have stolen that as well.
Apr 21, 2010
Apr 21, 2010 at 11:36 PM UTC
I keep thinking how Jesus raised Lazarus from his tomb
And about how that really must have healed his family’s wounds
I’ve been praying for some leniency for yours too
Still, no matter how many tears I shed, it’s for no use
He must have thought Lazarus deserved life more than you
But I don’t think he does
See, I think God chooses favorites
And it just wasn’t us
I keep begging for a miracle to come through
Hoping that all this tragedy doesn’t have to be true
And I know it’s pointless of me to do
But I’m only human; What am i supposed to do?
Aug 24, 2021
Aug 24, 2021 at 8:10 PM UTC
Constantly averting controversy,
Hurting from unnerving problems.
Not the worst thing I've unearthed inside,
The birth of mind-disturbing strife attacks my life, so I
Turn the knife and end the plight, cause
That's the kind of fright that strikes the right delight I see in sight.
In darkest night, sin harkens.
Vibrant demons mark their silent dealings with violence.
Screaming stops my lungs, no breathing,
Retreating feelings try to stop the gun from ringing,
But the voice inside my head that's pleading
Remains important and so appeasing.
Like a fiend I resort to that deemed purport,
A pristine contortion of me and distortion,
A means for war, hence demons worsen.
Cursed, I've seen adverse **********
Burned, at least the urn was worth it.
Dreams are but a sea of urges,
Waves of hurt; a ****** circus.
Earth was keen to be so perfect,
But dirt, it seems, reversed its purpose,
Purged of peace by scheming serpents.
Words convene to verse excursions
Terse, obscene, and birth diversion.
Learn to breathe when yearn disperses,
Purely seek to preserve incursion.
When earnest deeds immerse subservience,
Evil creeds are sure to surface,
But thoughts serene will soothe the burdens.
Heaps of greed control these words,
Though, predisposed in certain versions.
Weeds they grow in fields of ferns, and,
No one seems to know the urgence.
Flowing streams bring treacherous currents,
Twists and turns that reap insurgence.
Since discernment keeps deterrents,
Court the beast with immense observance,
Or disease will curse life's brief occurrence.
Treat the deepest ravine of courage
With leniency so peace emerges.
Dreams are but a grieving circus,
That creep beneath your bleeding surface,
Seizing leagues of zealous verbiage,
Leaving hurt to skirt loves purpose, return concernment;
Submerge the cures for feeling worthless.
Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 2:28 PM UTC
Poetry exceeds me and my wildest dreams.
Ink and tree meet, but my mind missed the means:
Fantasy traps my heart;
Conviction steers the same
Leaving its direction pathless as a gale-less helm.
Sensibility's fervor is strict,
And Leniency's apathy is an empty promise.
What have I done?!
Why would I have listened to this flesh?
Only to destroy it.
I must wait.
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 1:54 PM UTC
I am a simple soul
When I die I want to be remembered fondly as a pretty decent poet
I don't want fanfare
But if I receive it I won't complain
Most of all I want to be remembered
My greatest fear is that everything I am and everything I have ever done will be reduced to a forgotten blip in the back of someone's mind
How I so much wish I had the power and strength to start fires I have no intention of putting out
My greatest philosophy is that a majority of people who do evil know **** well what they are doing, they just don't care
And enough of them can get away with it to inspire the next generation
Let me inspire a generation that won't allow evil to be done and go unpunished
Leniency towards evil is a joke that stopped being funny long before now
It never really was funny to start out with
Sometimes I catch myself thinking of all the rocks thrown at Peekskill and how they got away with it
I think of the four dead in Ohio
Even now I think of Sacco and Vanzetti and cry
I am a simple soul
I only wish that you remember those that came before us and sacrificed everything they had
And then I hope you think of me
Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 12:37 AM UTC
Your eyes dwell
on the frailty of my ****** structure.
Yet, you find it pulchritudinous.
What makes it?
I have no idea, what you see.
I am as reckless as a child,
but it was my sophistication
that you’ve chosen to descry.
Your hands linger on my skin,
caressing every bit of insanity
and fragility, needing leniency.
What are you sensing?
I have no idea, what you perceive.
I am as sober as the night sky
minus the stars,
but you avowed your benevolence
towards my desolation.
Hence, you hefted such joy
inflamed such felicity that was lost.
What are you begetting?
I have an idea,
reciprocation, it is.
♥
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 7:51 PM UTC
How dare you?
How dare you presume
that you can still reap
the rewards and the virtues
of those who have chosen to
keep
their offspring,
their livestock,
their produce,
their children.
I am your child
when you deem it plentiful
to prove it.
My temperament, unmild as
it currently is,
was rocked into existence
by your hand
on my cradle.
Your tears,
so heavy, on my head,
and your mind, so
allegedly stable
made me my bed full of straw
and needles.
You left me
uncooked and, as yet, wholly raw.
You who bore me, left me.
You left another to tend to my sores,
one who's age is sure not to eclipse my own.
You threw me, out to pasture
to roam, alone,
feeling useless and inconvenient to you.
This may not seem true,
but who are you to deem it untrue?
There was no leniency in your
innocently though out cruelty.
For, after all, you must always be innocent.
Always must be abused and misused
by another.
You never perceived that you might be the
other?
Unaware of the pain your apparent
lack of care caused me.
My platonic fellow left to cure me.
Now she's the only one I feel I can
truly trust.
For, emotionally, I only shall do
if I must.
After you.
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 12:47 PM UTC
It's crazy how I am posed as a threat to the American society.
It's crazy how I fit the description of any crime. Because they profiled me, by my race.
Because my pigment depicts the actions and I'm just their next hit.
I'm just waiting for the blow to the head that will exploit my brains
Scrambling them into pieces on the street.
It will reveal what they fear
I guess brown pigment signifies a corrupt mind.
Mind you, that my homicide will make the world a better place
Because there plans are to get rid of the "filth"
Now you tell me who's corrupt as they wash their blood stained filthy hands.
Don't worry, because these ****** think they're on a mission to save America.
The tactics are changed, so don't be fooled the goal is the same as 60 years ago.
They fear my intelligence, because before they believed I was completely illiterate
But now.
They feel fear when they see me
Tremble when they hear me speak.
My articulation shocked them and left them on their knees, begging.. For their superiority back.
They label me as a thief, because that label has been jacked.
It's just unbelievable that fear has left my brains shattered on this concrete,
But are my black roots too strong for defeat?
Do they fear the strength in what they once referred to as a disease?
A curse by god, a lifelong flaw, it seems quite odd wait a second...pause
I’m an upstanding citizen by the standards of society
Though if they see my skin, like Christ three times they’ll deny me
Counterfeit Christians and let I not mention the leniency in religion.
Let us not stray I’ll get back to the beginning,
It seems quite odd they expect us to forget rather than forgive them.
Mentally weakening the dreams of the enslaved black beings
Sparking wars of race within a race
Willie Lynch thought he perfected his methods of slavery
But methods of our African ancestors taught us to bend, but never break
In a centuries time the change will blow your mind
From being chained and put in line, to inspiring culture in ignorant minds.
So raise your fist and clench it tight,
In hopes my brains don’t meet the concrete tonight
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
it's not
that i can't breath
just that the air
is too heavy
too humid
too thick with lies and
sickly sweet half-truths
that choke me up
and fill my lungs with smog
drowning me with the intention
towards strife and barbarity to consume
the life-giving
and raise
the executioners
on their thrones
of thorns
it's not
that i can't breath
just that the air
isn't right
does not satisfy
this burning in my lungs and
the dizzy fog in my head
that trips me up
and fills my mouth with gasps
my lungs heaving against iron bands
of cultural and social restrictions
on the righteous
and leniency
for the cruel
on their stages
in masks
it's not
that i can't breath
just that the air
is alive
smothering me
intoxicating and illusory and
insubstantial as a midnight dream
that jolts me awake
and fills me with unreasoning panic
banishing from my mind all reason
in the laws of nature to protect
the awake
and disturb
the sleepers
in their hollows
of selfishness.
h.f.m.
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 8:40 PM UTC
I'm tap dancing as fast as I can, Mom.
The sparks jumping off the sidewalk like
demon flares half mad in the dark!
all seems to be going swimmingly,
but you turn to stone and deliver me
to the monster at 3 o'clock sharp!
Read my crimes and grant no leniency;
the sentence is beating with Dad's belt.
Jan 26, 2023
Jan 26, 2023 at 9:49 PM UTC
I woke up to the fact that I've been compartmentalizing people.
Sectioning off different aspects of their personality and treating them like strangers.
As if they aren't just one and the same.
It's gotten me in trouble to fall in love with
The good you's and developing too much leniency for the bad you's.
Almost ignoring the bad altogether.
But sometimes we have to put it altogether to accurately make an assessment on someone's character and if we really love them,
And even if you really love them,
Is it safe for you to love them?
I can't hide from the whole anymore.
Its gotta be all or nothing.
Aug 8, 2023
Aug 8, 2023 at 2:41 AM UTC
Ah, you never see how my looks freeze
and how they stick to the feelings behind the scenery...
And there are times beyond the imaginary
when you do not search, just come across:
a tiny piece of paradise -
which the value is enormous...
A new paradise I found today,
merci!
A harmless and innocent memento:
I have the power to carry it inside
and you are full of leniency...
I get cosmic vibrations at times
feeling the universe testing me
and making arrangements,
the noble angel smiles and whispers:
'never question the grace of destiny'.
We were tried and gifted with what we lacked
and we met our inner selves:
we were hungry to share,
we were for love,
we are for love,
we will be for love, dear...
You will be to relieve,
I will be to live...
To live in the deepest sides of the meaning...
How insanely I miss you...
Feb 16, 2022
Feb 16, 2022 at 4:08 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
The law applies to all
So when the mighty fall
Just like the rest of us - y’all
They hear the clarion call
When asked - Oh yes indeed!
They do regret their greed
So no matter their misdeed
For leniency they plead
And let’s keep it real
Cuz they’re not made of steel
They’d like to cut a deal
Found guilty they’ll appeal
And baby I’m not lyin’
By accident or design
Without them even tryin’
They’re lookin’ at big time
When they’re cut down to size
It makes you realize
They fall quicker than they rise
Right before our eyes
Past actions sealed their fate
But it’s no cause to celebrate
Cuz they got crushed under the weight
And they learned that lesson late
So you ask for the deductive?
It should serve to be instructive
Not at all counterproductive
How greed can be seductive
Although they celluloid it
By all means just avoid it
There’s no need to Sigmund Freud it
Just because they once enjoyed it
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015. All rights reserved.
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 4:44 AM UTC
we are given so much leniency, naturally, from life itself; it just gets broken down and separated into categories of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ and ‘ok’.
look, what is allowed is what is allowed.
we must allow the nature of freedom to take control and leave the rest alone. or suffer a life of quieted disappointment.
what is allowed is what is allowed.
(that statement does go both ways, of course; but, for the purpose of this conversation, let’s focus on the non-restrictive connotation for a bit)
the forces that are currently sitting atop the thrones control the flow of the day-to-day and do not implement the rules that follow the rules that were given to man, by Mother Nature . . . they try to follow Father Time as though he really even exists
“you do the crime, you do the time”
is what they all say . . .
but, who is it that taught them ‘right’ from ‘wrong’. and, who taught them. and, who taught them. and, who taught Adam and Eve. and who taught God. and who taught Zeus. and who taught . . . Mother Earth? and who taught . . . the Sun? and who taught the other dying stars? and, tell me,
who. taught. the dead ones?
did they not get proper instruction?
who. is in. control. here . . .
what is really allowed . . . ?
and who taught freedom
how to have
a moral code
in the first place . . .
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 8:47 PM UTC
Hollow is the repercussions I feel,
And shame is the tyrant of lucid imagery.
Weak is the management I failed to seek,
And time is the master of foiled leniency.
Nails crawl at my spine and claw at my skin,
For a time I thought that they would become weak.
Wood saws at my mind and pinches my toes,
For a time I thought I may hold victor.
Hollow were the adverse consequences I felt,
And shame was a florescent picture.
Weak weak the advice that I had failed to strive for,
And time was-
Time is-
Time, it will always be-
The mastered version of foiled leniency.
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
I've never cried at funerals
Beside the bowed heads
Looking past the markers
In this gated community.
I've never cried at weddings,
Those blissful, blessed tears of joy.
Seeing the children settled and content
For the years they've yet to live.
I've never cried at birthings,
Though tears are warranted
For years of trouble and ecstasy
They will surely cry.
I've never cried before the courts
Pleading for leniency,
Or alone in a cell.
I've never cried for lost innocence,
Those tears that only come with experience.
The loss of a love.
I've cried for myself,
And I carry a hankie
To marvel at the wet spots.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 12:18 PM UTC