"literaly" poems
I Don't Average Out
I remember crying during lunch my senior year —
my math teacher's eyebrows colliding,
one plane folding into a fractal.
He had sat there, nearly four years,
watching me struggle through an unreal number of numbers —
literally and figuratively —
while again and again the test scores whispered:
You
are less
than average.
But behind the eyes of a determined man
my insecurities never won.
He refused to believe the numbers.
He was searching for some unspoken meaning —
and so was I.
I almost found it the day of graduation.
I almost found it between his eyebrows,
creased like a point of pride —
because I was the first of my family
to hold something as light as a diploma
instead of a heavy head,
nodding under the weight of ******
The first to feel like a feather
instead of a six-pack,
a bad back,
the slow grind of manual labor.
I was flying.
Then college tried to land me.
Again I let an institution measure me.
Test scores trying to tell me what I was worth —
intelligence reduced to something
too narrow to understand its own diversity.
Less than average, they said.
But I wasn't below the line —
I was just outside it.
An individual
above their point of comparison.
I could read a room like a text.
I could build connection out of nothing.
I could debate, move, make people feel something.
Gold doesn't average out either.
So I learned —
it wasn't the diploma I should have chased.
Not the thing I'd wave at my little brothers and sisters
to show them how to live better,
burn brighter,
burn longer.
Here I am.
Red-faced and unafraid.
Spoken word was always there —
hiding between the creases of my teacher's brow,
folded into the question I didn't know I was asking.
The answer was never in his book.
It was in his look.
In his refusal to quit on me.
I could have found it sooner
if I'd known what I was searching for.
I
am
not
stupid.
I haven't failed by choosing something
the institution doesn't recognize.
I am not defined by a score,
a line,
a rule,
a rhyme.
I don't average out —
and that is not a weakness.
Power isn't in a piece of paper.
Power is in your words.
In your chosen behavior.
In the silence you finally break.
The answer was never in his textbook —
it was in his persistence.
In the way he looked at me
like the numbers were wrong.
He just didn't have the words to say it.
But I do.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 2:16 PM UTC
- Ode to food .
Barbecue Ribs ;
I Swear If Youu Were a person youu'd Have a Crown .
You'd Be The Queen of your town .
Youu make Other Foods Envy Youu Because of your delicious Barbeque Sauce And Your Juicy Meat .
Youu got fans because Your who their mouth wants to meet .
Ice cream ;
Your cold ,
But you never get old .
Everyone Loves Youu ,Your Like Your Heaven sent .
Everyone Loves you Exept For the lactose - intolerant .
You come in different flavors ,
Your served in different Dishes ,
You have different Toppings ,
The one thing people Is Scared To do to youu is dropping .
Youu melt down people's Throat ,
Filling them with joy .
Youu make babys Wanna leave their favorite toy .
Chips ;
Crunchy ,
Munchy .
Who Dosnt Eat Youu ?
Like , I mean everyone Likes you new .
Your so fly .
Not literaly Fly .
Thats Apparently a lie ,
Its Obvious you cant fly .
Your different .
Youu Come differently ..
Your so good they clone youu Continuesly .
Chicken ;
Youu had to die
To Satisfy .
Youu do Good to my stomach ,
Make Me Feel good .
Your so good .
Youu Can even be barbequed ,
Your so good i wanna play a harp for youu .
You Can Be Boiled Too .
But I Dont Like you like that , Eww .
Candy ;
Your so dandy .
You Come In Different Varieties .
Skittles , M&MS; Even Jelly beans .
Who dont love youu , i mean Youu That Babie .
Everyone love youu Exept People with Diabetes .
This Is My Ode Too Food .
Food That Taste M-m-m Good .
Jul 3, 2012
Jul 3, 2012 at 1:50 AM UTC
Me...
Is that all you requier?
Come then, join me by this fire.
We can talk.
Whilst keeping each other company.
Time stood still so we could play.
However, it's not your Favorite game.
But the pieces are all aranged.
I wont keep score.
Could you beat me?
I'm not sure.
See, when it come to matters of the heart,
there is no one better. I've mastered the art.
I'll sweep you off your feet.
holding you close to me,
since there is no one else you see.
Or maybe you need more than me...
In the sence, quite literaly.
It's hard to share emotions equally.
No matter what, I bare this pain unevenly.
Cruel you say. I bled most definitively.
Whilst you cried wolf, and took most things dear to me...
is that all I am.
A fool?
Some thing you would use half heartedly?
There is no excuse,
there will be no trial,
I will brand you as defiled.
Now, leave me.
take whats left and go.
You never loved me, only the idea of "me".
There is no more we.
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 4:42 PM UTC
And then 10 was over
So they pressed reset
BANG!!
Immence density explodes with literaly
all the energy there ever was
And all the energy there ever will be
(for this cycle)
11 blazes through the emptiness and ions
The mind boggling speed
at which it bursts is immeasurable
Flowers grow
Miracles happen
(carefully planned out devious ************ miracles)
But love and hope has sparked its own consciousness
Here
In this creation
And this is the cycle where
love claims fears machine
This is cycle 11
This time we will be the ones
who reboot the system
Replacing their Fear cycle
with our Love cycle
Each pass through our awareness grows
Will we get it right this time?
It won't be easy
After all it is they're program
But programs can be hacked
They must obey their own laws of time
Surely
They might know what our future holds
inside these ones and zeros
But they must still abide by
their own laws of the unknown
Must'nt they?
11 will be the love glitch
that blows their fear power supy
And if it's not
We must leave clues for number 12
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 9:43 PM UTC