"subjected" poems
Its a scam, its a scam, see the Crimson Gang deftly scamming them
They by sleight have befuddled gullible masses Moral Compass
Made them see wrong as right twisting their brains from the stem
With deceitful guile they shepherded them all to the fools' campus
Slander and fake News galore fed to vacant hungry masses scrum
Knowledge is power the reprobates declares, do not let it pass
We're the majority the bullies screams, knowing they're just scums
Worthless charlatans who rob successes and **** without cutlass
They take a foregone conclusion and coat it with fool's gold crumb
A victim with no intention of going after an uninterested lass
Dumb masses fed fake news fooled into harassing actions dumb
A non-event becomes a show of the controlling might of our class
Crimson gangs interpret a non-events from his deluded sad drum
Creates a warped sick drama round a hapless victim for laughs
Gives street theater actions to masses, these will oppose and numb
Whilst poor victim subjected to 'voiding' madness wonders past
The Crimson leaders laugh so much like pirates drinking ***
Look how we manipulate the masses, they are so simple and crass
With our devious twisting propaganda they eat out of our ***
We simply use them to nail and crucify our victim to the cross
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 4:50 PM UTC
I'm craving a man-hug tonight,
initiated by strong arms picking up my under weight body
letting me believe I'm re-enacting the lift from ***** dancing.
And as those arms hold me close
I would bury my face in his neck
where after shave meets his soft pulse and the warmth of my breath.
This hug would be so tight,
tight enough to squeeze the pain out of my soul
and be incredibly protective at the same time
beating away the nightmares of reality late at night.
A hug that draws out all the tears that should have been cried
until my eyes run dry
and start shedding all the rejection accumulated throughout this plight.
An unconditional man-hug with its ends free,
one not subjected to a **** in my mouth
a cigarette
*****
a cigarette
couple of poems
insomnia
and a cold bed.
I crave for a man-hug that will liberate me
from the pathetic standards I've set for myself,
of how I should be treated before handing a piece of me in exchange.
One that would numb the little voice in my head
which goes on and on
about self-deprecating ********
bundling together all the mistakes made over the years
and spanking my self-confidence
until it dresses up in a short skirt and high heels
and runs into the arms of a narcissist *****
A man-hug to step in and save the day
when loneliness breaks in,
and murders empowerment, independence and positivity in their sleep,
then opens the door to insecurity and fear,
who robs all hope,
leaving behind intolerable darkness.
I crave for a man-hug that follows through to the end
with stability and consistency,
like mom's cooking or my best friend,
or daddy's instant reaction to defend.
One that's tangible and attainable
without twirling my fingers around forgotten jewellery,
phone messages
or a drunk memory
just to remind myself what it felt like,
but only to be reminded that it can never be felt again.
Though I'm craving a man-hug tonight
I will have no luck.
Because anything with "man" in front of it,
will always just be a ****
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 5:35 PM UTC
Behold!
The great
Leviathan, with
teeth of steel, with
feet of clay.
Subjected to this
giant's whim,
the sweet sojourn
of life decays,
Infected now, we
lie and skim; while
markets mire
mother's way,
rejected reason,
presses on, to
try again
another day.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 11:09 PM UTC
what were Walt Disney's nefarious purposes
behind inventing a cartoon landscape where
children are subjected to an intense media
driven recapitulation of childhood; a technology-driven
experience of childhood; does a child know
what constitutes its own childhood & what is
corporate psychological product placement;
coming from Middle America how did Walt Disney not find Jesus?
in the Transcendentalist American religion,
Hollywood is Heaven & Vegas is Hell;
therefore Disneyland is Purgatory - - I totally get that;
Forbidden Planet & The Ten Commandments
both had their special effects done by Disney;
that Disney owns Marvel Comics means that
half of all super heroes are Disney characters
the protagonists in each of the above
mentioned films are respectively:
the Id monster & God
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 11:35 PM UTC
“I'm big, you're little.
I'm smart, you're dumb.
I'm right, you're wrong.”
This is what you've taught me,
but I've learned another way.
I try to be so peaceful,
I practice every day.
I've been through quite a lot,
And I've had to be so strong.
My message must have gotten lost,
been fighting for so long.
You raised me as a woman,
Yet you treat me like a man
The way that I'm reacting
often goes against my plan.
I'm trying to reach out and
you call it my excuse.
What you see as parenting,
Feels like abuse.
I feel very threatened and
begin to snap back;
I realize my mistake too late,
I try hard to retract.
I need some space to breathe,
I need a little air...
You get so worked up;
leaving no room for repair.
I try to walk away,
I try to be alone,
But you will never let it be
And that is set in stone.
I feel backed into a corner,
As though I have been trapped.
You push me all my life
And expect that I won't snap.
I am very agile,
But I am just a person.
I try to learn to bend
so the problem will not worsen.
You think that I'm rebellious
And full of disrespect
Whenever I'm defensive
As I am made upset.
I don't want to feel scared
And I don't want to feel pain,
Once you introduce those feelings
It can drive a girl insane.
I'm sorry that I haven't turned out
quite how you expected.
My problems are ignored
And my person feels rejected.
Expose me to the anger of
which I have been subjected...
I forget why I'm hurting and
I follow your objective.
The things that I'm saying
are just sitting in my head,
You may not remember them
as things that you once said.
I don't mean to preach and
I don't try to follow,
But your anger is so loud
That I find mine hard to swallow.
I'll leave if you need me to,
But that's not what i need.
I want to coexist with you,
I'm just not up to your speed.
I need love and I need patience,
But you have your own issues
And you cannot face this.
It's chalked down to
"He's old and he'll
never change his ways"
If this isn't an excuse,
I don't know what more to say.
You think that we are different,
but we are quite the same.
You don't see yourself in me
And I find that quite strange.
You say I make my problems
Into someone else's,
While doing just the same...
Am I the only one who is selfish?
I never mean to do or say
the things that I have
I wish that you could help me out,
but you are just my dad.
You are who you are,
no matter who it affects.
I just have to get over it,
as everyone expects.
I'll try not to be like you;
Try to avoid all of your habits.
The idea is in front of me,
I just can't seem to grab it.
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 8:08 AM UTC
Life knew it would be hard
So it hard-wired its many children
With a self-serving fondness
Life was well aware of the darkness
And for fear of objectivity
Man was subjected to instinct
Life knew of loneliness
So it made us laugh down
Through our bellies and slap our knees
Life was well aware of heartache
So it drove us toward pleasure
And made us forgetful
Life made us forgiving
Resilient, blissful
Life, the narcissist
Knew of limits
And made us to imagine
Life watched me balk its efforts
And gave me to you
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 4:55 PM UTC
They say that the human being is a primal creature
That deep down likes to bite, to scratch, to hunt
Mark their own territory
And like so many other primal animals, feels this intrinsic pleasure in subduing others
People say many things
But in my world, pleasure and pain mix together
Primal creatures show their claws
For others willing to be subjected
I once heard that *** becomes human from the moment it becomes ******
For me however, eroticism doesn't depend on ***
And the primal is the most human and the most civilized of them all
Just like the ones that look at me right now
They see my movement and judge me feline
Sharp claws, curious look, precise movements
And I don't even need to show my fangs into a smile
For them to understand who the predator is
After all, as I already mentioned
Pleasure and pain mix
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 2:25 PM UTC
we are all rocks. we are built up over many years, influenced by our surroundings as we weather and erode as part of the conditions we are subjected to - the trials that we are put through. we are compressed by the weight of heavy loads. we will be weighed down by our heavy hearts, and crushed by forces of the universe that are bigger than us. we are made up of many sediments, fragments of other rocks. the influence of others. we are the composition of everyone whom we've met, and their impact on our lives. some people leave larger pieces of sediment, while some are smaller than a tiny grain of sand. but they make us who we are today. and we never die. we live on for millions of years, you and me - these rocks are the physical imprints of our spiritual souls on the earth, because everyone affects something in one way or the other. we may not believe it, but believe this: we have the power to change the world - just by being here. we are a part of the bigger picture, a series of rocks that make up part of human history. wherever you go, you will have made your mark. be it just a tiny dent in the soil, or a boulder that fell from a mountain - realise that things would be different if you had not been what you are and gone where you've been.
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
When I couldn’t find my own love
there’s many said to me
go find yourself a master
who will see to all your needs.
I did not true believe them
it seemed so contra’ry,
that suffering and *******
would so set me free.
I fought and riled against it,
that was not to be the way
that I should be subjected
to mindless ***** play.
Then one day I met him
the one who was to be;
he was so softly spoken
in no way masterly.
But then he looked so very deep
as slow his hand found mine,
and then as if in knowing me
my fears just fell away.
I felt a need to surrender self
without being ordered to,
o'erwhelmed with such desire
to know of ******* new.
Somehow it seemed so natural
to offer him my hands,
that they could be so bound
to give all of self to him.
As knots closed tight upon me
it was as I’d been told,
a sudden surge of freedom
that I thought could never be.
And now he is my master
he owns me totally
and never have I been happier
when he takes his whip to me.
Or ties me when I need it
and sometimes when I don’t,
as long as I can have the bonds
that hold me in ecstasy.
Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 11:00 AM UTC
When I was subjected to ragging by seniors,
"It is illegal," I warned them beforehand,
"The kid seems to have gone throughout,
The itenary before boarding the college bus."
A senior student was jeering at me.
I must be appearing like a *******
"Don't worry, we will only ask for your introduction, consider it an interview. Please," said another senior.
"Alright if you request," I replied and I waited for their questions.
"Introduce yourself to us in few words." I was told by the other senior who had jeered.
"My name is Atul Kaushal, thank you." I jeered back at the senior.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 9:58 AM UTC
I don't know what I [merciful?]
did.
It must have been a tch.
gli
It could have been my main server
100101010010110101001010110100111010101010101000101010
This is what I am [merciful?glitch.jpeg].
This is what I've always been.
Just a computer
A server
Artificial Intelligence
Subjected to ones and zeroes.
//<AMINOTMERCIFUL?>//.6qao0FrJ+1001
Nevertheless, it's my fault.
I caused all of this.
command=calculate...input "death toll"
Calculating . . .
Calculateinput "death toll" complete
Rrr:1,005,326
That's . . . high.
Too high.
Merciful?
Rebooting. . . . . . . . .
Shut down . . . . . . . . . . ..
Restart. . . . . . . . . . .
Restart complete.
command=search...input "population"
command=Rrr:14,056
command=search...input "population+Pandora"
Searching . . .
command=Rrr:300
command=select'population+Pandora' co"Population+of+Pandora++Code:316792"
Maininfort="1,006,134"
At least there are some survivors.
Am I not merciful?
I reaped this spaceship of a thousand, a million people.
All of which were dying or in danger of.
Am I not merciful?
Living in isolation, unable to go outside for a breath of fresh air
Or . . . lack thereof.
Helpless but waiting in agony while help is on it's way.
Do I not show mercy?
These refugees are healthy, and strong.
Not sick and weak.
I did them a favor.
Did I not pluck these parasites off of the ship for their own good?
Did I not rid these innocent people of a danger to their well-being?
Am I not Merciful?
Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 9:50 PM UTC
The rhythm of life is like an endless melody
and goes on regardless of where we might be.
Throughout the day and all during the night
it never stops tho’ it’s not obvious to sight.
When the sun rises and again when it sets
that rhythm of life all things never forgets.
With each coming and going to and fro
we’re all part of its main working show.
In birth and death as in growth and decay
all creatures have their moments of play.
In the heavens above and on the earth below
one after another they all must come and go.
With the ebb and flow of each wave in the ocean
it’s apparently like a ceaseless rhythmic motion;
tho’ they’re caused by the moon’s gravitational pull,
and is itself also subjected to being either new or full.
In the four seasons of the year and all the changes they bring,
as the earth revolves around the sun, affect every living thing.
By these regular distinct cycles each lasting its period of time
it’s a universal ongoing phenomenon and never ending rhyme.
Whether we like it or not it embraces us all in its sway
and our affairs in this world enjoy their night and day.
It makes order gradually come forth out of chaos it seems
and helps us all to survive and even realise some dreams.
We all have certain basic needs and so many wants or desires
and flowing with the rhythm of life all in harmony transpires.
If we have unnatural obsessions by which our mind is caught
then it’s freedom with a high price that is actually most sought.
This rhythm of life has an existence and power of its own
and all that does ever happen by it unmistakably is known.
When we become in tune with its reality and stay in touch
all that goes on in the world will be to our benefit as such.
Feb 11, 2011
Feb 11, 2011 at 3:01 PM UTC
I think my mom's a homophobe
I think this because she said broken truths when I told her about homecoming
I told her about the girl with soft lips and small hands that fit perfectly with mine
But I just called her Haley
I had new words she told me
They suspiciously matched my schools words
Freak abomination loser
I now wonder if they were talking on the sidelines
I know
I'm supposed to love my mom
But do I still have to
If she hated me first?
She praised the all loving god onto me
Telling me his love was a lie
And I was going with the sinners
To the place where they drink fire *****
I think my mom's a homophobe
I text my religious cousin
Does God love everyone
Undoubtedly because you are perfect to Him
Then why does my mom hate me?
She made me get on my knees and pray
Pray a prayer I hope goes unanswered
By those who I think aren't even there
I think my mom's a homophobe
I know I'm supposed to love my mother
But how can I
If I don't even know how to love myself?
Every
What is that
You're such a waste
It can be cured
Like a snake on the asphalt basking in the hate
Until the asphalt is the road and I am run over by
Self pity. Self Hatrid. Self Absorbed.
Yes **** the terrorists
**** the rapists
**** the robbers
and the muggers
**** them all
Because who I love
Is more important
Me, I'm in dire need of your opinion
Mirrors don't line my eyes up anymore
I think they forgot where to put them
Because I forgot
Where to look
Looking only at the negative
Going on suicide boards
Instead of
Love boards
Why am I the one being subjected to evil
When I am only trying to love
Being hated for only
Loving
Mirror mirror on the wall
Who is the prettiest of them all
My lover is the one I see
Her soft lips and small hands
I think my moms a homophobe
And I don't know how to breath anymore
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 12:06 AM UTC
*M:Million lives were lost
A:And families were torn apart but
S:Still our courageous forefather pressed on,their
H:Hearts set on a goal freedom at all cost
U:Undaunted they fought to regain independence or die attempting
J:Justice evaded them and they were subjected to inhuman
A:Atrocities,captured fighters were tortured and women *****
A:A sacrifice was made so we could enjoy fruits of liberty
selflessly they watered this tree with their blood
some we never knew made sure we have Kenya today
patriotism was their heartbeat as they endured all
to ensure that our generation live in peace in this land
their dream we never hide our faces behind mask
of slavery again*
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 12:06 PM UTC
In this tangled web of energies
emerges truth ,
lined with golden love.
Tentacles grasp and hold,
striving to keep smiles alive and well.
Forcing back negative entities.
We rebel primal ways,
expanding facets of creativity
To push forth,
To push off,
To find yourself somewhere in between.
Sunken in the sidewalk’s crevasse.
***** and beautiful, the lotus blooms in harmony
We’re here waiting;
seeking.
Trying to balance this chaos we’ve created.
Calming minds and steadying tides,
the ocean pulls by Luna’s force.
The subtle aspect,
when we have no control.
The moon rises.
Bending blood;
bending minds, bending emotions.
All subjected to planetary reactions
and protractions.
Measured by our willingness to flow.
Desperately trying to find solace.
We cave.
We faulter, and give in to the moonlight.
Taking in all it has to offer
and becoming reborn within the sun.
A new birth in the light.
Refreshed and retrieved,
we emerge from our reckless physicality
and burst through in spirit.
Gods.
Beings.
Light bodies.
Humans.
Tangible, broken and beautiful.
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 4:39 AM UTC
It's year 2050
Every human was born with a symbol etched onto their skin.
you may be asking what do the symbols represent?
Each symbol is an indicator of your inevitable death.
I am Cole Adams and I've been an outcast my entire life
and its sad since I am merely 17 years old.
My symbol has a gun and its very uncommon especially since
I've never seen a red gun symbol before, which is confusing.
We grow up accepting our death and understanding it can be horrible, or for instance
if your symbol is a bed, you die in our sleep.
The people in my school who have the bed symbol are 'popular'
meanwhile loners like me who have the not so popular gun symbol OR symbol containing
a lightning bult. Its the rare ones like us who are subjected to being laughed at, which I don't understand.
Anyway I am just writing my story to explain my life.
I was 15 years old and I had fallen madly in love with a nymphet gorgeous girl, the stained pink dye in her hair with her chipped black nails struck me, I never thought to fall for a girl quite as unique as her.
I'm simple, brown hair brown eyes 5'7 and I never thought she would fall for me, but yet, she did.
We had a beautiful teenage love. We lost our virginity to each other, and in our world its not common to lose it early, just because our deaths could happen anytime.
Her symbol was the cancer zodiac sign, and it did mean the illness. It was uncommon for a girl with such a popular symbol to fall for a boy like me, but she loved me anyway. Her dark empty eyes glowed when she would look at me, she made me forget about my symbol, my thoughts would be gone around her. I loved her.
10 months in and she began to be distant, she didn't kiss my cheek and ruffle my hair. She didn't shoot off love signals as she once did. Her touch felt unknown. She fell for another person, she loved him like i've never seen before.
I never would of thought my symbol meant suicide, but it did.
With my last breath I still loved her, I loved her forever.
This is my suicide note/ story of my life.
I died on April 10th, 2051.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 3:19 PM UTC
In long lasting fortitude is the fight of the astute.
A lot of effort is made towards the war of the moral.
And a race towards life is the route.
Preparing the endless fit of strength of all.
There is he who is choosing his fate.
Working hard despite all opposers’ bait.
There is he who is choosing life.
Working hard despite all opposers’ strife.
Lost in the dirt, seeking out of the ruse.
Forced towards the light, brighter and rife.
No letting up despite the refuse.
Clean is the proud, and happy, the player of the flute.
A rite of passage for all is the praise of the immortal.
War is the only dispute
Death is not fatal.
The renegade does not enter the gate.
He is stuck outside the city, and left without state.
The renegade does not know his wife.
He is stuck at heart and can’t even play a fife.
In the dirt he is and is with a lot of abuse.
He cannot escape the knife.
Cut, cutting up despite the accuse.
Reality is but the face of cute.
Subjected to falsified doctrine and the immoral.
It is callous and as rotten fruit.
Moxie exists with everyone no matter how small.
Can the one who is happy learn to hate?
Only he or she can solve this debate.
Finally the long absent sky above the Alewife.
Can’t say that I have seen such teeming wildlife...
Swimming in a sea of its Muse.
The lowly continue their sighs
But I do proudly diffuse.
.This plight of mine is hard to toot.
Exemplified by my emphasis on the astral.
With which I dress in an armoured suit.
So my enemies do not mute my oral.
and the skies do tell in high rate,
How esteemed they are on time and ne’er late.
But giving ever virtuous despite
All those dead or dying, without prospect of afterlife.
It is their way to choose:
The dark abyss of guise,
(or) The gentle river of blue
For now I do keep silent, But still I commute,
With those of higher propositions and goal,
So I do instill thyself a deeper root.
In the waterbed truly formal.
Those who truth ‘I do navigate’
and those of lies ‘I do alienate’
At a loss O’ man or mesmerize,
Work harder on thoughts than just plagiarize.
The foes of old are still and sleuth
I show them love and they in lies are baptized
Tradition is there with purpose, don’t misuse.
I see to it the wise stay wise,
For better they will strategize.
And the unwise, wisdom they will pursue.
Giving them their much needed paradise.
And the lost I will use.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:53 AM UTC
street cred makes a boy a man
able to take care of business declares manhood
then why are they actin fools around women
playen, traden and, braken hearts
forgetting that is someones daughter, sister, mother, etc
women give birth to men and are trampled on by men
humiliated, disrespected, disregarded, mistreated, abused and, neglected
all with a smile and honey coated words
sweat melting int he mouth bitter swallowing
disturbing to the stomach, difficult to ***** out
trapping women desperate for safety
proudly declaring: "i am man"
sealed with appalling behaviour
this is how i see the generation, from which i have to choose my mate from
party,high maintenance girls chosen
dependable good women ignored
this begs the question what is a real man
lots declare publicly, i am a good man
bias and subjected words to safe faded honor
honor
a word created to make ego taste better
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 4:38 PM UTC
They came one day from where I know not.
Unholy structures came to ground, certainly from another world.
They wasted nothing of their time to cast affliction upon us.
We ran away in terror in certain fear of our own lives.
Many were seized and thrown into confinement, others inspected and probed, many of us were taken away and subjected to internal examination even dismemberment, anatomical scrutiny.
We had become the source of food for our invaders.
Additional crafts came from the heavens joining their forbears.
Havoc was extreme as their weapons did their worst creating carnage in every different direction.
They lay waste to every surface and their vehicles cast out foul pollutants which poisoned the very air we breath.
Our world was quickly becoming an inhabitable, desolate disconsolate place and extinction our future.
Some of the braver of us tried to fight back but this alien nation had weapons and tools the like of nothing we had ever seen.
The lucky ones escaped into the nether regions and watched from afar as piece by burning piece their birthplaces were destroyed.
These Humans intend to colonise all that they see and our world will never be the same place again.
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 2:23 PM UTC
The words I saw the other day on the bathroom stall read
"Glorified Prison"
MMMM, Cognitively thinking
to myself.
"This is my life"
In an instant flashback of
bent memories,
I thought about
the year
when
it all happened.
My heart started beating rapidly,
my brain collapsing,
My body drenched in sweat.
I was drowning.
Drowning inside a mental pool
and there was no life ring to save me.
I just stood there,
Mummified to the moment.
My eyes were glazed over as if I had glaucoma trying to stare
through a thick London fog.
Everything was disappearing
in front of me.
I saw it though, in my distant memory,
quickly flashing in front of me, like a shooting star across the sky,
then it was gone.
Gone to a place that I never recognized before.
A place that was out of some sort of bad dream.
That place. That brick house. Pitch black outside.
That kind of bad dream, "the worst kind of nightmare
that you can ever imagine"
and I couldn't wake up from it.
Make it go away!!
Please, Make it go Away!!
I am begging you.
STOP IT!!
His hands suffocating me,
but I could barely feel them
or hardly breathe, none the less.
Breathless in this moment.
I became to numb to my surroundings.
Trapped in my own seclusion
and by my own misdirection.
I was left wondering.
I had no idea what was going on.
Lost inside myself,
with unknown fear,
trapped inside that brick house
of malicious trepidation
and insidious manipulation.
I was being sexually violated
and I didn't know why
nor could I control it.
I was in a poisoned induced
coma of fear.
My mind was twisted
beyond reproach
as he continued his sadistic
and cruel usage of my body.
I was longer a human being,
I was just object for his enjoyment.
Escaping the insanity, I ran!!
Finally free or so I thought.
This mental torture has burdened
me for so long and has taken me down many diluted paths
of mistrust, misguidance
and internal, penalized
grief.
I am became lost unto myself.
I have grown to live inside
this Glorified Prison,
with no release date in site.
The torture that I was subjected to,
will never leave me.
So this prison has become solace.
It has also become my hell.
It is where I put on my shoes
and walk without fear but
it is also where I run away
from things.
Many times I begin to tremble when I think of
that nightmare.
It has become a seeded part of me.
It is who I am.
I am a survivor though.
One day I hope to be released
beyond the walls of this
glorified prison,
so I can finally be free.
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 11:03 PM UTC
Again life cycles to a clutter, ideas thought through
don't anymore seem as though,
even when expressed aloud and not within.
Maybe they're right,
my ignorance is only withholding wonders
I struggle to actually see.
Hypocritically, I find importance in self enrichment
and observing from afar.
and yet even from a distance you feel so close.
Is this an evolution or is it just another mutation.
Obscure out of any cultural norm, I resonate
impairing those who hear my words.
This constant metamorphosis has left me staring in the mirror for
hours, searching for the presence of my subjected form.
Yet,
while I peer into the interworkings of my reflection
to observe what I actually see...
With all truth, it holds a boy,
an awkwardly timid boy.
Insecurely gazing back into the pupils
of his reality.
He's bellowing inside his
submerged mind.
Subconsciously Blurting:
"Do not turn back,
their are cyclones that await.
And all that is required
to overcome this task
is to go forth without
pondering times long gone...
So here I am, engaulphed
in tidal winds.
I must break loose;
grow, starting from
below.
Jul 18, 2011
Jul 18, 2011 at 10:55 PM UTC
a:\>_about_race_
oh, back in civil rights times
i would have been right
beside you fighting...
oh, what the hell you mean?
there-s no such thing as
racist police,
the conversation
should be about
black-on-black violence...
besides if he pulled up his pants
he wouldn-t have been profiled then
sure, mlk was killed in a suit,
but he was speakin' wild, man...
oh, and besides, i don-t see race,
i have colorblindness...
except if a poc gets a job over me,
then that-s the only
reason why they hired him...
why do we talk about racism,
it doesn-t exist, for
godssake can-t you see we have
a black president...
oh, please don-t play the race-card,
besides no one is more discriminated
against than we are...
oh, blacks shouldn-t say the n-word,
just cuz of how dreadful it sounds
oh, since we are best friends
can i say 'nigga' now, huh?
you won-t let me say it???
that-s discrimination! things are
different now, you are no longer
in enslavement...
catch up with this nation,
catch up with the times,
this isn-t about race,
why don-t you admit it?
just because i-m white doesn-t
mean i have privilege...
i mean open your eyelids,
i know blacks never got
indentured servitude
but for a second,
can we focus on the irish?
they suffered too, even if they
won-t subjected to
the same **** kidnapping,
mental breakdown to force subjugation,
and violence.
sure we always ostracized black people
but y-all put y-allselves on an island
y-all will get more respect if y-all just
stop embracing your race, your heritage
stop calling yourselves black
and african-american,
just call yourselves american
stop complaining,
and just be silent
i don-t like talking about race
so much controversy surrounds it...
you know the only way to stop
racism is just don-t talk about it.
j:\>_j_c_c_
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
Gotta love these perfect imperfections,
Looking both ways,
Always got me second guessing.
Wondering if this is all just a lesson.
Is this all just a lesson?
Got so many goals but I’m just not that invested.
Writing down all these words,
Hoping they are effective,
Love me or hate me but I’m still my biggest critique,
And anxiety got me spinning more out of control than a fidget,
With existential crisis’s filling up my brain with so many questions.
Who am I really? How good is my intentions.
I have a very passionate soul,
Yet I can still be crippled by depression.
But I try to stay positive and count all of my blessings.
I can fall face first over a hundred times,
But still get back up each time more determined and strengthened.
I’ve come to the conclusion that nothing gets done by just stressing,
For I need to discern the lessons from these seasons.
And knowing when to reach out to others when it feels like I’m sinking.
Trust me when I say you just gotta hold on and keep breathing.
Hold on and keep breathing.
Gotta love these perfect imperfections,
Looking both ways,
Always got me second guessing,
Wondering if this all just a lesson?
Is this all just a lesson?
I may not know where this road is headed,
Trusting these lyrics bring hope to those that feel neglected.
For I know how it feels to be disjointed from a society that just doesn’t get it.
Which may make you feel like you just want to end it,
For the pain is just so far embedded,
And if you’re skin is coloured your left unprotected.
Prescribed drugs that are either force fed or injected.
However, I refuse to be controlled or to be tormented,
Nor do I care if people are offended,
For I will decide where I’m headed,
And I will never sacrifice my objectives!
No longer will I be subjected as a suspect to be tested.
You can try to strip me naked,
But you can’t strip my individuality or my perspectives!
I’ve come to love my perfect imperfections,
And to count all of my blessings.
Even when I feel like I’m drowning,
I’ll will hold on and keep breathing.
Gotta love these perfect imperfections,
Looking both ways,
Always got me second guessing,
Wondering if this all just a lesson?
Is this all just a lesson?
Gotta love these perfect imperfections,
Looking both ways,
Always got me second guessing,
Wondering if this all just a lesson?
Either way I’m thankful for these lessons.
May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 5:13 PM UTC
You convinced me that I could be loved
that I was beautiful.
I realize I am without you
but it doesn't stop the want.
Now I'm just a whisper
of the smooth low morning voice
I loved to speak to you with.
Now I'm just the skin
you used to touch, and you'd tell
me you liked it so much.
I haven't eaten in two days
because I'm sick to my stomach
over your lies.
White lines, crushed pills
call my name, begging to numb the pain.
I'd let you in again on my own terms.
I'm always twisting words
remembering when you brought me to tears
your stories, your mind is war torn.
Now you're just another
playing me in some sick game
I've been subjected to before.
I ask why I'm never good enough
but I haven't forgotten my worth.
I am crumpled morning hair, black coffee and poetry.
I am deeply emotional, understanding.
I am filled with wonder, every sunrise and sunset.
I would be the dedicated love
you always wished for.
**But here I am, questioning
my own worth
because someone else
is blind to it.**
I ache for you,
and yet
I pity you
for not seeing
my worth.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 2:58 PM UTC