You said it didn't matter
you would accept me anyway
but when it came to the day
you forgot

I could tell you were uncomfortable
so I tried to hide
under a cover that killed me inside

My thoughts were intoxicated
I could not forget
it poisoned my mind

all I could think of
was not being accepted
and it destroyed my life

I gave up
I couldn't cope
I lost all hope

because the thought of my friends unacceptance killed me

Paradox
One:  Pain
Two:  Fear
Three:  Tears
It all starts with pain,  
Just that one little word.
It starts with the very thing that’s kept us alive even when you know that there is no way out of pain.
Like the voice of the voiceless.
Echoing off the walls with a burning hate because no one would listen to them.
You see the paradox in happiness
It’s the seed that has been planted inside our heads ever since we were kids playing in the sandbox.
Everyone telling you, “smile, sit up straight. And…mind your manners.”
Our younger selves hushing our mouths when told. Us feeling happy without knowing what happiness really even was, because all we had to go off of was a sitcom TV show.  
It’s funny the world is crashing right next to our ear, and yet we don’t hear the devastation.
When the feeling of safety slowly vanishes into a house of harm.
When tears turn into fears.
Day turns to night.
People tell you everything is going to be okay, when you know it’s not.
The only way that you can escape is by plastering on a smile, but the smile turns to a lie, and with every smile you give, another scar begins to form.
Every tear that has been dropped forms into a demon, taunting us with regrets and insecurities, mocking us with a mist only to be seen by the wicked.  
And yes, it is scary when those insecurities grow to be everything you are.
Like when you walk, you wonder if it’s not the right walk, and when you smile, you wonder if it’s a crooked smile, even though it’s not.
And you see, everyone is fighting their own battle.
They are raising their swords high, only to get knocked into yet another grave.
They fight the brutal wars.
They endure the warfare of hate, and unacceptance.
And the worse thing is that some wars never end.
How can we not see how our actions take hold of everyone we talk to, because even when denial exists,
we all know that there is something that has us by the neck.
The cold days exist
and how are we expected to make it warm when isolation is so real, so cold
when we feel like every door has been slammed in our face.
Every single emotion is a paradox.
It always contradicts itself.  
The paradox begins when we all take the sigh of relief that was cursed.
That one breath that we were never meant to take.
The heaviness of the chest, as the heart thumps once, thumps twice.
The feeling of anger when told to get over it.
You know, it seems like everybody else has it all set, but do they?
The answer is that no one is truly okay.
Whether we want to admit it or not, we are all united.
We are linked by the pain that has gripped us into the fiery depths of the unspeakable.
We can hold the building that threatens to crush us by seeking the most unlikely of allies.
Because maybe you have differences,
but inside they have ghosts too,
that follow and torment just as well as you do.
They know the feeling of hosting a virtual party that only has one guest.
Yourself
And some days that is all that you think you have to help you.
Yourself.
However
“When you seek, you shall find.”
And as long as you can breathe a little longer, you can survive.
Once you can grow up to yourself and tell the demons to go back to hell.
Once you can put together the pieces, connect the dots, read the hidden lines.
Once you open your eyes and see pain.
Once you can give the voiceless a voice.
Then, and only then you can bring the paradox to a close.

My body language resembled it's own comfort.
It was not preached to me,
although she is attacked,
for those who can not connect with her usual.
Her comfort is a barrier,
created by unacceptance.

I see him,
unclean face, alcohol soothes over his lip.
Perfect symmetry.
With a stumble over his left foot,
his presence was affront my uneasiness.
He speaks a tale of how he reads me,
how he can discover me.
How each syllable spit off his tongue,
craves my body.
He states "my kind" are more appealing lacking voice,
with our legs a distance from another.

I am scolded.
I am scolded for my lack in ability.
They do not know,
I was never taught,
No one is.
One leg is demanded to lay over the other.
The curriculum reads it to be so.
"Your kind is in a lack of grace."

Someone close,
sits aside my quivering body.
Everyone seemed to express immense
freeness.
I was unaware of this comfort.
"Let your legs breathe for a change."

"My kind" is not righted to
the feelings of openness or security.
All for the positioning of the lower part of the body.
Open for a drunken hand to slip where
it mustn't reach,
Closed for the restoration of grace in a society.

My kind is a doorway to be used by the world.

She shaped as she
on top of that one mountain
carrying all waters of the world
with one of her infinite hands
on top of her head
under that night sky
an offering she was or it
to the moon

the carrier of half moon a copper plate
the lover the moon a reflection of herself
inspiring beauty as a shine
she could reach to the non condensed matter
of a planet where you and I come from
pure light of our home to refract the unseen
that could travel as fast as love
to awaken the rainbow
of our combined heart
a rainbow that could appear
on the world after rain

Rain was her true name
she meditated as her name
for you
as you wished for her
to inspire the smells of condensed fume
she evaporated under that moon

Next day
I guess on a Sunday
one day after a sunny bright cool day
I woke up
not opening my eyes
I knew
the sun would be behind the clouds
I knew unmoving how air felt
I did not know why
until questioning stopped
until my choice of unacceptance of
what is -
what I am -
what I created to be for that day -
gave up
for that was not an affordable weight
morning called instead
maybe a gift the greens said
as they got deeper darker in their greenness
to be praised by the clouds
settled as if they have always been  on these skies
they always do so arrogant
it’s their nature I say
they are as is required to be
I did not mind
and
it rained

and
it rained
and rained
and rained
and I knew
I was awake
and I knew
I rained
and rained
and rained
I rained
for you

“Stranded Strangers”

The life raft rocked from one
Careless wave to another,
As I drowsily lay
On the damp floor and ponder,
Helplessly holding
My heavy, eternal sin.
My sin of originating in a country
Careless of my life expectancy.
My sin of coming from a country
Where it’s illegal to be free.
My sin of fleeing a country
Where war rages on every street.
My sin of not belonging to a family
That could spare me from this barbarity.
So I ran.
I ran with
my bare soles
to the shore,
with the hope
that this boat
Would save me.
From the inhumanity.
But the indifferent sea
Will not guarantee
A secure journey.
Still,
This isn’t a sacrifice for me.
For my country ruthlessly robbed
Everything that was of value to me.
My family and my identity.  

But I’m afraid.
Much more than you will ever be
Of me. You see,
I have no power.
I can’t chose my future,
Like you chose to shoot our heads,
Like you chose to turn your head,
When you see us drowning at sea,
Land only meters ahead.
Yes I am afraid.
That no one will set us free
From this strangling tyranny.
You know it’s a bleeding tragedy,
But you turn your head,
And shoot our heads,
And deny. Dare deny
This clandestine genocide.

So I float between countries,
Balancing on cold water,
A stranded stranger
Begging to belong.

Millions of hefty diamonds
In the deadly silent nightfall
Are scattered on the unreachable  
Celestial crown.
They look down
on us with disdain,
All proud and pretentious.
Mocking
My muddy skin,
My blistered soles,
My ragged clothes,
My ruffled hair,
My hollow cheeks.
As if to remind me,
Of the riches I’ll never see,
Of the happiness I’ll never feel,
Of  the safety I’ll never get,
Of the home I’ll never have,
Again.

So dear cherished official,
I am a stranded stranger.
You could easily be me.
But I’ll never be you anymore.

‘Cause I’m Discomfort, and you’re Warmth.
I’m Sorrow, and you’re Hope.
I’m Fear, and you’re Peace.
I’m Servitude, and you’re Freedom.
But I’m also a Crisis, and you’re also Ignorance.
Because I am Muhammad Gulzar, and you are a Greek official.

So I float between countries,
Balancing on cold water,
A stranded stranger
Begging to belong.

All this to say, I’ll never be safe from here on,  
No matter where I run,
They only care ‘bout where I come from.
A burden I got no control upon.
Rooted before I could even say “Mum”,
Why do we run? On and on?

Why do such meager differences
Develop colossal separation,
An impenetrable iron wall
Between Us and Them?
Why are you more worthy
Because you stand on the other side of the sea?

I wondered who, over there,
Understood the horrors we saw,
When they don’t seem to  know more
Than what the dividers of mankind
Instilled in their minds,
To form such cruel people.
Do we have to be rivals?
Just tell me your cause!
Is it because fate willed me to be born
On the other side of the wall?
And is it because fate willed me
To have a different complexion?
And is it because of my weird religion?
Oh, you think I don’t know your intention?

I’m a victim of the imperialist wars
To control oils, and other raw materials.
You exploited, oppressed and devastated my land
Simply to expand your sphere of command.
Where are your morals?

You western imperialists
Bear a decisive responsibility.
And I will not cross you off my list
Until you have done your duty.

Greek officials robbed and beat 30 migrants yesterday.
1000 others were abandoned off Greece’s bay.
And 8300 are gonna be thrown away
From their homes in greece. Did you hear?
Boris.J wants to legalise sending away
Refugees who reach the UK.
But today, I want to see you change your twisted ways.

But today, my last handful of air
Was taken away.
My body’s too bony
To hold a head so heavy.
I collapsed into the cold sea.
Weighted thoughts dragged me.
Sinking into eternity,
I did not dare to break free.
I was finally reaching Heaven
To join my long lost family.
There at least I would belong,
It had ached too much and too long
To to be abandoned by a world,
Drifting from country to country,
Begging to belong.

‘Cause you stuffed your words into my mouth
Since as long as I can recall.
There was no space for my own.
So they scratched my throat
As they tried to climb up
Desperately reaching for the door,
Ready to inform you
How much it wounds
To be nothing,
To be a phantom figure,
Worse, to be a number.
But they never get to the exit.
And time turns them
Into a bitter taste.
Until we suffocate,
In our unsaid words.
We die from remaining unheard.

So you’ll probably think it’s absurd.
But in these forgiving waters,
I am free
of  your merciless grip.
Quite ironically,
I can finally breathe
Out. The unsaid words stream
Out of my lips.
Role into the current.
They sing in the sea
The pitiful story
Of my suffering existence
Of unacceptance.
But still,
These words
Will never be heard
By your oblivious ear,
Dear cherished official.
How many more bodies like mine will it take,
To make you understand what is at stake.
Lives are not living,
Because of your domineering
Xenophobic habits.
You’re tearing the world to bits.
Tell me,
Where is your humanity?

‘Cause dear cherished official,
I’m all the innocent bodies
Sunken in the depths of the sea.
I’m all the stranded strangers,
Who ran away from danger.
You could easily be us,
But we will never be you anymore.
So you can turn your head,
But our world will not move ahead
Until you acknowledge your responsibility
And accomplish your duty accordingly.
Only then will our bodies
Rest in peace.
So Prove,
Prove to us you’re capable of humanity.


{A stranded stranger’s closing contemplations}
- A poem by Julia Barrell

She comes and goes as she pleases
Does what she will; and she teases,
She’ll stay and have a word and laugh
All the while she makes me feel half and half,
Overjoyed to know her acquaintance
Overwhelmed at my unacceptance,
Her silhouette burned into my memory
She pilfers my thoughts like a thief in a treasury,
How can I forget her face; her smile
Her laugh I can hear through a crowd; all the while,
She’ll never leave me be
She’ll always make me see,
What I’m missing in this life
A friend; a lover; a wife,
She’ll always remind me what it is
To seek someone like her; buried bliss,
I can’t ignore what she stirs in my soul
To yearn for what she means; a goal,
And so as the time passes by
I know; but I won’t ask why,
We all need someone in our life’s circus;
To give strength and our lives purpose…
© okpoet

Sexuality is not limited to
unacceptance
it is our *discovery

Her lips are so ashened that I feel the urge to lick them without seduction,
yet I kiss them and don't complain.
Her soul so dry that the rains fear her continues grounds of dramatic dryness.
Yet I continue to water her petals.
Her body so undesired that she barely looks at it. She carries each pound, from her unsatisfied lips and her ample breast to her thickened hips and woodened- brown toes, with a shrug of unacceptance.
Yet I still explore her with the interest of the lustful.
I kissed the lips of this wretched devil and grabbed Her by the backside as the knife in her tongue pierced my neck...
But I let it happen. So maybe I truly am to blame.
After all, to save a snake is a deed or valor indeed, but at the end of the day, the snake is the same animal it had always been.

First we left the EU
and the prime minister didn't know what to do
he left us with an empty number 10
and a handful of homophobes to fill it in.
Finally we were making progress
after hundreds of years of unacceptance.
Now the economy's a mess
and we have no defence.
We seem to be going backwards
but no one ever said 'trust a politicians every word'
Regression of the UK
lies told every day
building up hope
then the day after we hear nope
'I didn't care for politics
I'm just a overly patriotic *******'
So every thing will stay the same
and the UK will waste away
because of a bunch of lies
and hundreds of people terrified
for their future.

Eyes still burning.
Heart is hurting.
Throat on fire.
And still I’m learning,
This actually happened though it feels like a dream.
Constantly questioning reality.
Frozen in time.
No pause. No rewind
I can’t settle this in my mind.
I need to hear your voice, your laugh.
A dumb joke you told me in the past.
These empty walls. The ticking clock.
This unacceptance. Still in shock.
I want to call you! You can’t be gone.
It’s silent until “here comes the sun” comes on.

It is too late
I manifested for years
Nothing changed
He never came
Now
I no longer know
How to lay next to someone
I no longer want
To risk unacceptance
Alone is
So peaceful
I can imagine different
But I can't feel it
You are too late
Which is fine
Because you were never coming
I hope you find someone wonderful to love
I don't really care to stop being alone now
Bodies are hot, sticky, and judgemental
I'll pass
We lived a full life of love
In my imagination

If I were a boy, things would be better
It would be easier, it would be easier
Because i feel different
If i were a boy
I wouldn’t have to explain
How I really feel
That i am a boy
I was just born in a female’s body
If i were a boy
My life would be better
I wouldn’t have the anxiety i do now
Having to come out
To all my friends and family
Having to say
“Mum, dad, friends
I have to tell you something”
If i were a boy
This wouldn’t be as hard
They would ask if i was okay
I would say yes but also no
I would have to make
A sentence that works for how i feel
If i were a boy
I wouldn’t have to do this
I wouldn’t have to say
“I don’t feel like a girl
I want to be a boy
I feel like a boy
I am not a girl”
I wouldn’t have
To deal with unacceptance
I wouldn’t have to hear
“No you’re a girl”
“How do you feel like a boy?”
“That’s impossible”
If i were a boy
Oh i wish i was a boy…

you'd always wished for
To look our for you when you feel unsure.
A found security wrapped in unacceptance
A love so vacant to the premices
Sending letters that will never be read
A sacrifice Unappreciated  and unsent
A sunrise that feels like a close friend
Unsure of the sunrise and it's suspence
Look for something brand new unsent
Still there is a will that's content and unbent.