The room is crowded, breathing bodies, whirring machines, but still he is alone, the single-use gowns and gloves a barrier from those he loves, in the sanitized room quarantined. They come to see him, talk even though he cannot speak, breathing with augmented lungs, electrically pulsating to keep him here. Circulation greatly diminished from a mere month before causes black to creep up from toes to feet, his unruly heart refusing to pump as it should—would, if not for that foreign invader resisting arrest, stalking boldly where it pleases, bivouacking in heart chamber walls. Too stubborn to leave, too well fortified to be run out, it has decided how this one will go. But vital functions curtailed in effort to fight, become the grisly and minutely more manageable alternative, to choose that gradual toxin over an unbearable bursting in his chest, a nearly impossible decision to let go or let explode. So we let go.

People like doors
And people are like doors.

People like to be open
To new people and
New experiences.

People like to be closed
So they can keep themselves
Free of unruly things like
Feelings and protect themselves
From getting hurt.

People like to open doors
To new opportunities and
Things that will make them feel secure
Or jettison them into success.

People like to close doors
Behind them so that you can't follow
When they decide that you're not good enough
And walk away from you.

The galaxy's in turmoil, it's at an all time low
Luke Skywalker's been demoralised, all for comedic show
No substance for new character's, old heroes full of woe
What happened to the Star Wars, that we used to know

The Empire has been replaced, by the Order of the First
No real impact is achieved, we're not really that immersed
Screen presence is not felt, characterisations at its worst
The legacy of the Jedi, is downgraded and disbursed

Luke's a Jedi like his father, so why would he elope
The Disappointment of this film, is on a massive scope
Star Wars fans are ridiculed, their on a downward *****
Galactic empires did strike back, but after a new hope

Jedi knights a force for good, they wouldn't just give in
Princess Leia flying through space, well wasn't that a sin
The saga of the Skywalker's, pushed aside for Rey and Fin  
Don't bring back legacy character's, to throw them in the bin

Luke's too out of character, it doesn't make no sense
Strong villains do not exist , so there is no recompense
The shallowness of General Hux, a lack of real suspense
Kylo Ren's fake saber duel, this fight was far from tense

Evil rulers are no more what kind of name is Snoke?
He's hardly Emperor Palpatine, he's just a head scarred bloke
Like most of the new character's, well what a ******* joke
The menace of the sith is lost, Since the force awoke

Wooden character's we don't want, I know this may sound mean
Kathleen Kennedy please keep away, from the Star Wars scene
We don't want Holdo, Rose and Poe, clogging up the screen
Admiral Ackbar was killed off, and it wasn't even seen

Rian Johnson's head is round, he looks like BB8
Unfortunately his movies ****, and his stories are not great
Redemption for true Jedi knights, I know it's not too late
A Jedi Master Ivan is,  The Last Jedi's futures fate

This is our most desperate hour, after the cinemas first screening
Ivan your our only hope, the Star Wars fans are screaming
No true fan is amused, we wish that we where dreaming
"a gracious gift from god", is Ivan's first name meaning

Ivan Ortega is the man, he simply is the best
His flare for editing is supreme, he has film making zest
Unruly Star Wars script writers, he'll put them to the test
Movie making is his skill, Disney give it a rest

So come on now check Ivan out, on YouTube or Twitter
His vision of The Last Jedi, may stop you feeling bitter
Optimism flows like the force, because he is no quitter
He'll reunite the Star wars fans, instead of a film splitter

A dark time for the empire, with the Jedi in the mix
Dark side powers hasn't been seen, since Vader in part six
True Jedi Knights have not returned, nothing that really sticks
We need Jedi Master Luke, in Ivan's new Film Fix

A tiny speck, growing fast,
so straight, direct that it must be
the first it took, and now its last.
Sobered, sad, feeling bad for riding
like a maniac, and hiding my eyes
from accusing skies.

Empty accusing skies.

The rub comes, as it always does.
with shock and dread.
Taking my helmet from my head.
It is there.
On me.
Neck broke.
Dead.
Sweet.
Young.
Complete.
Dead complete.

Pushed between  my legs
and tank, unseen and thank
my lucky stars that mother birds
don't stand accusing of their loss.
It's bill, still with the bright,
that makes both of its parents fight
to feed unruly chicks
and guard them in a nest of sticks.

So find a bag to wrap it in,
shed quiet tears,
for this new sin.
Glance quickly past
the stinking summer bin.
Rotten with sloth and waste,
and life gone bad.

Where ?
Somewhere that will care.
For a new soul taken,
a wee heart broken.
Sorrow unspoken.

Anwoth,
whispers, down among the stones,
Plants crown the walls,
and, in summer glory
the voices of the dead
gently talk.

Just listen.
They need you.
To hear.

Anwoth,
if you take a look,
hidden in the quiet,
beneath an evergreen.
Beneath THE evergreen.
  a  stone that says.

A Baby Bird.

I read He marks the sparrows fall,
so should We  all.

All that swims unruly
only crashes into rock.
Wearing down the stoic
demeanour the beholder.

He wails in silence -
his thoughts loud
but his voice shackled.

He buckles;
Then clutches at his
breast knowing he’ll
meet his end with
his tale only told in
illegible runes.

They always placed me here:
In the outfield,
With the dandelions
And the cartwheels.

Spinning round and round,
Until Rachel shouted,
"Hannah, kick it! Kick it!"

The ball was huge,
Ginormous—
A little Pluto.
I kicked it with all my might
Straight towards the grey city
With the tall skyscrapers
And pins and needles
Shooting towards the sky.

I promise you,
I didn't mean to.
But little Pluto came crashing down
On your city
And with the weight,
I killed you.

A little dandelion kick
And you were gone.

In your will,
You bought me a ticket to Paris
And $1,000 to spend on cheese.

But I couldn't leave.

I tried to confess
How much I forgive you
For using your words
When you were alive,
To exploit me.
But the sounds are caught in my throat
Clenched by my unruly fists,
Unable to unravel themselves
Into spoken word.
My lips mutter,
“I’M SO SORRY”
In big letters—
But the sound does not escape.


I crushed you with a dandelion kick,
And after all of this—
You still remembered my dream
And held onto me,
Placed me in your will.

Then I awoke—
Not in Paris,
Not shoving Brie in my face
Not wearing the heels I packed.

Blink of an eye
Say of a word
News from a spy
Edge of a sword
A sudden death
Fails the world

An enemy, a friend
A breach of conscience
Unable to Defend
A cloud so dense
A sudden death
Fails the world

Pale and unsound
Silence after a cry
Chaos unbound
Motionless and dry
A sudden death
Fails the world

A void exists
A mystery two-fold
The illness persists
A feeling so cold
A sudden death
Fails the world

Forgotten Words
Forgotten phrases
Corrupt Guards
A predator chases
A sudden death
Fails the world

Break the nib
Absence of guilt
To argue and crib
Ashes of the built
A sudden death
Fails the world

A mother's cry for a still child
Sheep's bleat at the butchers knife
Chaos unbound
Souls unsound
Fodder for life fades away untold
A sudden death
Fails the world

Broken hearts commit suicide
Slick of a reptiles tongue
Chasing the shadows of vengeance
A vagabond in unruly clothes
Honesty, Respect and Humility sold
A sudden death
Fails the world

Wilted years of youth realized
Sadness stacked on racks of mind
Tears shed on the brightest pyre
Pains and Sorrows never retire untold
A sudden death
Fails the world

That that gives us our power, our spark
taken for granted what millenia has given
we have climbed to such heights and conquered such an unruly globe
in each of us lies the secrete, the essence of how we have been made
embedded in our codes, each of us with this striking skill
at each passing eon connections formed, with every member of our family in tow
Speak, how we became this mind with feet
our walks of great distance were not in silence
each mile a new stage
a stage upon which a new dance was performed and with each passionate step our very core emerged
Listen as we engorge our neurons further
With all the stores still told, the mountains of pages upon which we record
Speech in all its glory
Language our greatest gift
For what are humans without language?
Of all our many tools, none so skillfully used
Each new epiphany owing to our original mastery
Every ounce of life we know,
what we call ... ****
begins in this communication,
continues in eloquent words of endless knowledge retold
what can be said of human beings, only everything
for what else are we but ceaseless speech
a cascade of words
vast elaborations upon which we have built our way of life
to be human is to speak
and to speak was to become human

Mother, I have seen you shed tears for death
I have witnessed you cry for me too
For the mistakes I have made so frequently
And the pain I once caused you
For being the rebel child
But you never once stopped loving me

I know you have been through mill
We have been through it all together
Families like ours cannot be so easily torn
When a mother like you is at the head
I will never stop caring for a mother like you
Who always tries her level best to make ends meet
To always provide for her family
Even if the outlook isn't too bright

Remaining positive for all of us is your absolute strength
When we need you most, you always deliver
I'm trying to put it frankly, as easily as I can without being corny
But I do not think you have ever truly known how much I love you
I am grateful and lucky to be your daughter
Even if I might shout at you, or seem rude
I would not be the person I am today without you

You are the one I blame for my loud mouth
The one I accuse for giving me my small stature
You have given me my thick mane of unruly hair
I am sure I get my worrying nature from you
The one who cares much more about everyone else rather than herself
You have given me the gift of life
And it's something I can never pay back
Thank you mom, for everything

Days fall by untouched and piling up.
Eyes unclouded by the feel of air.
"Hope" begins to rot away the nights.
Smiles switch and shine.
A light brought to the darkness, glows.
Future unplotted but still there.
Therapy in the wild and unruly.

it is pouring. it is washing away my troubles. it is clearing my head of rubble.
brigades of lovesoldiers. revolutionaries of hearts and stars.
congregants of the sky goddesses of love freaks. sweetly sordid little creatures.

the tendency is to ignore the problem until it becomes more manageable///
how has that been going so far for you, sweet darling?
do you feel the relief you so hoped for? or are your lungs (these doors) being kicked in. leaving you exposed and unready. unkempt and unruly.
switchblade princess. magnifique. petite princesse qui veut avoir toutes choses.
mais moi, je ne sais pas qui je suis, ou je dois aller et comment je peut boire l’eau de l’amour sans devenir alcoolique.

A spur of the moment your thoughts     Fly high
                                                                   spirit- within 
            The half- Angel  
           Wings of a falcon  
         Whole family rooftop beacon
Spirit of darkness pulling you through
But you had enough what else can you do?
The inner light afternoon hiking strong sun

Heart- jump the darkness knight  
Turn of the wing lovers- flight
Waves form a word to far__ out- of- sight
Bright karma spiritual meditation
Magical forefinger western saloon
Are we doomed gunslingers
Spiritual voice awakening

Sun full force
The sun of his face
So penetrating/ everlasting  
Spirit foretelling minds/ crashing
Foretelling a tale news/ flashing
Breathe in all the goodness to inhale  
God-like prophetic exhale

Born free feral wild

Certain events foreseen
Spirit touch  us
                     all
             as a child*
      Spirit foretelling  
Eloquent of a real man lives us
To his duty

Time is unruly
Middle name Joy
Meaning Something like you
Do you feel its still you
Spirit change inside you
Starting to heal feet its
          S h a k y

Holding the pen
Where are your hands maturing
What then?
Exquisite gardens
   Open and play
Japanese Zen
A beauty to stay  
Spiritual star foretelling
Love- Every Day

When the sunlight dies
and it’s time for the moon to rise,
a Pegasus, trots over the grey skies
witnessing your enchanting tired eyes
he knows,
he knows your wings are weak
and your dreams are too big,
making his eyes go bleak
he sees you every day, every night
under the stalwart sun or the pale moonlight
sees your knees weak, palms sweaty
eyes watery and you’re still not ready

Your heart is in the ground, frozen over
and your dreams in the sky, far from supernova
You, beautiful, are the heaven divine
and all your imperfections make you perfectly fine
we all have our little whimsical flaws
you’re a work of art
not everyone will understand you
but the ones who do
won’t ever forget you

you fret, a lot
but it isn’t even an ocean yet
it’s just a pool
of vulnerabilities and insecurities
of troubles very cruel
that you’re in the middle of
what do you choose to see?
the empty black void of disappointments
or the rays of sun sparkling on the water surface
but redeemer oh redeemer
we all are like a snowflake
all different, in our own beautiful way.

And here is this Pegasus
who sees it all, and knows
you are more worth than
maybes and second thoughts
a Pegasus who finds his own chaos unruly
yet, sees your chaos as perfection
so,
would you get on his back
and ride to the moon and back?
would you give him the chance
to fix your broken wings and make them dance?

He might be the one
who falls like a desert rain and fill your lungs
kiss away your pain and speak in tongues
read the signs of your face
like a book written in the summer noon under tree’s shade
your fever dream, that’ll help you soar
to such great heights, you’d adore
your neon night, that makes you feel young
as if tomorrow will never come
walk with you along sidewalks of the dark azure sky
let your universe of wack
merge with his own
and scale the distance between stars

So after years and years, you’ll see that
the storms we chased are behind us
and love is all we’ll ever trust
just wish not to waste what’s left
and when your legacy will be sung
they all will know that
she was like the earth
potent and powerful
mysterious but beautiful
but who never left her side
was the one and only, Pegasus of the moon

My thoughts once so crisp and clear,
Have begun to jumble and come too near.
What once was stored in neat little files,
Is now tumbling through space unruly and wild.
A crystal blue lake, calm and serine,
Polluted, contaminated, no longer clean.
The toxicity of your touch,
The lust for your poison.
Threw my world too much,
Like I took a love potion.
I love you, with all of my heart,
But I love him deep within my soul.
Together you two cloud up my mind,
Like murky waters below.
So here I stand, on this bridge,
Staring endlessly down.
Here I dream of clear blue water,
While stuck inside the mud,
This murky ***** water,
Makes my heart fall heavy, and thud.

I listen for so long at what
TV, Radio & what other people said.
Advertisements, Magazines,
Books on how to loose weight,
Other ways & things to make myself look
pretty.  Pity-Petty me,
Trying to dress like
Celebrities,
Trying so **** hard to fit in & be like those
Models & some of them one hit wonders...
even starting to think there
was something wrong with my skin.
Too dark for many
and yet I have this red hue kind of glow,
White teeth but so UN perfect to me.
Hour glass shape I hated it,
Big strong thighs that just didn't look right,
Truth be told for a while I used to like me
until I started becoming self-sabotaging .
Thinking I could get him or just be happy doing
what all the other girls & women did,
Oh how I wanted to be anyone else
other than myself.
Long curly- unruly hair,
***** some would say
but back then
I'd have it no other way,
Afro puffs, braids,
beads,
Styles that made people question me.
Relaxing, burning&straighting; my hair
To look like Halley Berry  
How she looked in that movie
QUEEN.
I guess.
Making me feel so unPretty,
You sorry lil freak in
the mirror looking right back at me,
My grapefruits sit high-up on myself,  
They perk up and smile at me
in my state of  undress,
Some where some how along the way
I started hating them & their shape,
Wanted bigger even though I'm  38C.
Why? I really don't know...
I guess it all started
way back when;
I was just blooming
into a young lady,
Finding ones self.,
When I started to hate being me;
Foster father told me
I need to eat less,
Only Black/Puerto Rican
with dark skin in
a all White School.
Went onto visit family during this time
and got picked on
at home because
most of my families skins was so light,
Abusive relationships unbeknown at the time
had me feeling like I could never get it right,
Doing what ever "He" He  "Him" liked,
which is also what
helped take away any concept of self.
Went through the toughest 15 yrs of my life,
Married young to a
Man whose opinion
matter more then Mines.
Finally hit 23, Divorced & Free,
A light came on bright as the Sun...
I had to figure out who
I was when everyone told me
I was Ugly,Worthless & Dumb.
See eventually you reach that exhaustion.  
You take a really good look in the mirror,
Seeing me for me what hard facing reality...
I have almond shaped cat like eyes,
Brown hair with auburn highlights,
Full lips that most people pay to have
and I ain't never had to inject rat poison
into any parts of my FAT,
It's at this point where
I had to decide at this crossroad
which route I'd take.
Most would choose defeat but I had my little girls,
I couldn't accept them ever looking
at me as someone who gave up.
I had to figure out how to love myself  all over again
Be comfortable with who I am.
It takes many a lifetime sometimes to
finally come to this conclusion.
But for others like me,
It's really like building or rebuilding a puzzle,
The Puzzle Of You!
Always Me Ayeshah
Copyright © Ayeshah K.C.L.N 1977-Present YEAR(s)
All right reserved

I am deaf.

I am deaf when people bring up a traumatizing or embarrassing moment and tease me about it; when people think it's okay because it's just a "joke."

I am deaf when people point out my insecurities; my crooked teeth, my unruly hair, my body and the scar on my forehead: the things I can't control about myself.

I am deaf when people use my gender against me, ostracize me on things because I am a girl; when they think I am only living to cook, clean and make myself pretty, when they use the line: "Kababae **** tao..."

I am deaf when people mock my faith and shame me for my principles, the things I believe in and what I fight for; when they say "eh di wow" "dami **** alam" or such.

I am deaf when people tell me they will leave or I should leave, saying I am "too much" or "I don't give enough;" when people make me feel inadequate and dismiss me over petty reasons.

I am deaf when people pick on me, use my past and mistakes against me; when people fail to see who I am, and what I am today.

**I am deaf, but my heart hears it all.

My heart is open and getting softer to
This unruly, textured, tender, layered existence

This isn’t new though

It’s always been a giant beating thing.

It beat for acceptance and praise and approval
As if those things were Love
As if those things sustained anything besides veneers

When my heart beat for anybody but myself
Kids, partners, parents, friends, strangers
It beat so loudly that it drowned out
The sounds of its own losses

This time and space forced me to be so
Unraveled
So broken open
That the only beating my heart did at first felt traitorous

Slowly, slowly when I had no reason to protect myself
No reason to deny my small self anything
Because there was nothing left to grasp for...
My heart turned to itself

It’s Wednesday.
Some ungodly hour between
4:00 and 6:00. Maybe. I’m not sure.
My mind is soft, unfocused,
sleep-heavy.
Dawn’s greeting is gentle, loving.
A mother’s smile. A susurration, interrupted
by David Wolfe promoting the NutriBullet on an LED screen.
Avocado, kale, blueberries.
Pseudo-science babble stems from wild,
bright eyes, overflowing into bohemian curls. Overgrown and unruly.
Enthusiasm and conviction have
never been more entertaining.
Billy Mays and his dynamic personality pitch.
Stubborn stains shiver before the power of OxiClean.
In a parallel world, I have bought out
every kitchen appliance, every menial utensil
that will revolutionize my quotidian life.
Those ped eggs, the George Foreman grills, Shamwows.
And I am content,
as I sit on my throne of ShamWows,
draped in an oversized Snuggie.

I was writing you a letter

a letter with my confession

My confession

of unruly decision

but then my hand froze

and my body trembled

and my neck

twisted

           Left,

                       Right,

           Left,

                       Right,

           Left,

                       Right,

****.



My body collapsed to the floor

like the Titanic capsized

in that frozen ocean;

like the Lusitania was drowned

by the torpedo’s bite.



There I lie

staring into nothing

because nothing stares at me.

and there I let my mind creep

into the vast expanse of death

where the demons claw away

but I can only speak when I bleed.



Mutilated I hang

waiting for the moment

when I am pulled from this hellish nightmare;

the moment when I take refuge

in the sweat-soaked bed sheets

that surround me.



Yet,

That moment never comes.

I continue to hang,

speaking when I bleed.

The tree holds me,

while I reap the consequences,

of my foolish escape.

I sit here alone
Is it daytime, is it night?
It doesn't matter

My claws mark the walls
I must look like a demon
As I scratch my arms

My unruly mane
reaches down my back, touching
My nine wild foxtails

I howl at the wall
My songs, cries, stories, and poems
Are all I have left

I hear with six ears
If I were free, I could fly
With my four giant wings

I recall that night
When my friends fought so bravely
Are they still alive?

But I'm trapped and chained
Even if I use my flames
To try melting Iron

Sometimes father comes
With the acid cups and chains
And sometimes his hands

He called me his child
But even back then, he lied
I'm just his project

I count slaps and thrusts
Staring up at the ceiling
Refusing to speak

What month is it, now?
I have lost my sense of time
In this grey stone cell

I peel my ears up
Some bread comes through my door's slot
It's down in one bite

When I chose my friends
They showed me what feelings were
And showed me the truth

I wish I could sleep
This windowless torture cell
Worsens my nightmares

I wake up shrieking
Waking, sleeping, I don't care
The nightmare goes on

I'll never tell him
Whatever's on or inside me
I won't betray friends

The cell's not all grey
I hear music and voices
That no one else can

Sometimes I dance along
My chain and claws scratching tiles
Laughing on a shreik

There's also Inverse
My photograph negative
The ghost haunting me

Inverse keeps teasing
He points out my every flaw
I hate that he's right

I shreik at Inverse
I'm trapped, half dead, in this cell
Waiting for "father"

I bite at my chain
The door of my cell opens
"Father" comes inside

My curls are everything you wish you knew about me
But it won’t reveal my inner mystery
My hair means young, it means wild, it means free.

My Latina nature sometimes precedes my personality
People try to tell me who I am and they whisper, “I bet she…”
My curls are everything you wish you knew about me

He says, “I know about you Latin girls…” but the only one who can enlighten me about me, is me.
To them I’m nothing more than another Jenny from the Block, but I’m not here to entertain you, let me educate you
My hair means young, it means wild, it means free.

My curls exude confidence, beauty, and *** appeal; they keep secrets, create dreams, and remind me how bright I expect my future to be
My hair does define me. But not as you define it, as I do. I am everything I believe my hair means
My curls are everything you wish you knew about me

Latinas are fierce, they are fire, and they are dangerous. Maybe we’re that way because you won’t let us be.
Can I just be me? Why do I have to be the person you want me to be?
My hair means young, it means wild, it means free.

I’m tired of society’s shackles, so I ignore what society expects me to be
I love my curls, I love them when they’re frizzy, unkempt, and unruly. My curls are me.
My curls are everything you wish you knew about me
My hair means young, it means wild, it means free.
~Karina

my mind is nothing but quick sand
a thought gripping me
pulling me down
until I am consumed
thoughts that I do not own
tug and pull
I have never been enough
my hair is unruly
my smile is crooked
my heart is no longer whole
I am not as strong or stable
as I once was
but I will do my best to love you
and seep through your wounds
to be your antidote for any poison
that pains you
I will do my best to be
your button down coat
that keeps you comfy and warm
I will do my best for you
this sand will not swallow me
and I will dig myself out
I will be myself again
I cannot move forward
without you
when I am me, my mind
will dance with yours
the way my body does
when you move, I move with you

maybe then I will be enough

The banging sounds
seem to drown
out my thoughts
ricocheting back, a rebound
but amounting to nothing
disappearing like a person fearing
the truth.

It's unruly and forever fooling
the gullible and trustworthy
but surely they don't believe the lies
that people can change
but rather re-arrange
and it's strange
how time can fly
but I can't.
my imagination soaring
yet here I stand.

Man is my head spinning,
the thought of winning this race
against time and space,
defying physics
to try and mimic
a picture so perfect it's a vivid vision
but there's a division, a collision
where my desires are tired and sick of reality
clashing with their limits
that bind us all
until we're blind and we fall.

If only I could make myself fly
like my mind or time
whizz by in the blink of an eye
and hope to find
the peace and ease I seek in life,
with no banging sounds causing me strife.

Come sit next to me
and don't speak a word
I will find in your flaws
something to treasure
and caress your unruly hair
when you're miles deep in sleep

The fire sparkled a watery light
As the moon soothed time into oblivion
And a faint recollection of yesterday lay dizzy at their feet

Her afterthought was inconclusive
As to whether the cup in her hand
Had elicited an exuberance
Sufficiently encouraging to make her face the dawn

On their playground of broken bottles and burned out branches
The chords of melancholia clung heavy to the night

The sweet sounds of memories they had relived
And strung together into an utterly unruly melody,
Seemed to push the sunrise back
Under the horizon lying looming out of reach

Smoke rising up from the last of their dampened pine branches
Laid a murky gloom over the glaring view of an inescapable morn

The clouds rolling in ****** them back into darkness
Hiding an unwanted future from sight
Allowing an indulging as sweet as the drink
That still lingered on the lips that spoke of never wanting to go back

The rain-burst covered their world with a wafer-thin film of glistening protection
Every thunder bolt momentously holding off dawn

But the fire that had fuelled their careless lazy limbo
Hissed under the abundantly extinguishing streams coming down
The spark that had lasted them all through the night
Melted into a shocking sense of reality
Quenching her parched desire
To dance in the rain
And run towards the sunrise with arms wide open