Friday, November 20, 2015

Alice, It' All in your Head

Madness Madness they say
The ticking and tocking of the clocks inside my head
Counting down the minutes until I will be dead 
I scream and yell and shake my bed
Wrenching out "She wants my head!!"
The rabbit yells to me in dread
A happy unbirthday to me because by the next I will be dead
With the flowers of painted red 
Crimson red
Blood red
The hatter drinking from what was bled
The blood the blood all in my head
It runs and flow wide spread
From the bloody red queen I am condemned 
Never to see the paths ahead
The cackles and laughter of the cat over head
In my head These images embed 
"I'm late I'm late!" Rattles through my head 

No matter how much I plead
"No not the meds not the meds!!!"
She's  crazy they all  said
Just the average screw head
Though many more left unsaid
As I am left trapped in this bed
So to the wonderland I was mislead 
Where my nightmares cause me to fled
Where my feet will fall to lead 
Stopped in my tracks left no more to tread
Left without a single friend
No more of my time to lend 

Madness Madness they say
The ticking and tocking of the clocks inside my head
Counting down the minutes until I will be... 
Dead

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Right of Speech

I have the right to speak
I have the right to talk about my opinions
Even if not without oppression
I do so without much suspicion

Harbored by the government that my words
That my words will change everything
Not scared that I will bring about a poet’s revolution
Or a too many words or vowels pollution

I have a right to speak out
And flaunt my words about
Not caging them in a cold demise
But bringing them out into this world of ears and eyes

Big bright, brown eyes of wonder
And a loud voice that rings out like gentle thunder
That is my sister
A little girl so sweet that every night before she goes to bed I kiss her

Sweet dreams little girl
Let your imagination uncurl
Coloring every blank page
Singing all your songs like you are on a stage

Bringing about whatever you seek to life
Never sitting in the lap of strive
And oppression
And depression

For you are not in fear of your words
Raining down around you like swords
But chiming out your chitter chatter
Never thinking twice about how much it matters

Because her words are free
Just as they righteously should be

In America we speak many languages
But one thing for each is the same
Our words are free
Free as liberty

Our conversation is not limited by law
Our creativity never cut off
Our words never rejected
But always protected

What we speak is our own
Each tiny thought a blossom grown
It reaches your lips and your tongue
Reaching out towards the light of the sun

Waiting to be expressed
Waiting to be possessed
Waiting to be heard
Waiting to fly free like a bird

A word is a bird
That can be locked away never even muttered
But here
A key is always near

To set this bird in flight
Calling out with all of its might
The government has a reserve
A wildlife preserve

For our words

They won't go extinct
They will remain proud and distinct
They will ring out into the absurd world
Letting all their sounds and rhythms uncurl

For they free
Thanks to the rights that allow me

To speak and read my poetry

The Butterfly

I’m sitting here,
In my room,
Looking into my mirror

Turning to leave
I look back and think
Is my hair all done?
Are my clothes all right?
If they aren't so it wouldn't be quite alright  

Are my eyes painted?
And my face primed?
Add a little more shine
Hoping for a twinkle in another person's eye

I strive each day to look my best
Never like a crawled out of bed kind of mess
Where I’m all made up
With nothing wrong

My flaws masked
My mistakes erased
By this layer upon my face

Each tiny hair pinned back
Or lying flat
With a sticky layer of chemicals ensuring that

Going out is one thing
But sitting at home and feeling a tug 
To put on the paint and powder 
So you don't have to look in a mirror at yourself  is another 


The scars on my heart hidden by my shirt
The clawing words held in the cage of my teeth when I smile

It makes me kind of sick
And ill
To think that if I looked really real
I would be judged.
I would be unaccepted
I would be…
Ugly.

I would be that one ugly duck
In a crowd of swans
Except people would remember the ugly duck me
Not the swan I am supposed to be

Society has a fine set of definitions for beauty
They seem to change like Ohio weather
Constantly and Unexpectedly
I'm waiting for the trend to change
Till the time when I can be me
And be accepted
By not only the ones I love
But everyone

Aren’t we all beautiful…
But only seen that way if we try.
To fit into a category.

I’m not supposed to fit
Stick by Stick
And Brick by Brick
To fit the stereotype

I’m not supposed to..
Hold in my stomach until I can't breathe
Not eat until I starve
Stick up my chest and stick out my butt
To walk, as an attractive duck

A show pony on display
A trophy wife in the window
A pretty puppet putting on a show
Knowing it won’t ever end not even tomorrow

I love dressing up too
And wearing make up
But the sad thing is
Without such things
I feel naked, revealed
And ugly
Even to myself

Others help and compliment
But I somehow still hear snickering behind my back
A Whisper in my mind
But I suck it up and say I'm fine

When my insides are bleeding paint
And I’m sneezing power
My skin bare
As I try to shave away every little invisible hair

These are all hoaxes
A fake ID
To allow us to fit into society

When we are all in a masquerade
Playing hide and seek with our selves
Hiding from who we are
Waiting to be found

It’s even worse to say
Thanks to you society
For making us feel this way

The guinea pigs of your social experiment
To raise profits on hiding other’s potentials
And pushing them into the darkness of self-judgment

Others say it’s us
That it’s just us for feeling insecure
If you were raised from the day you were born
To mainly look pretty
You would understand

With branding around you saying, you can be better
And superhuman, surgically modified, Models
Where even images we adore are faked, manipulated and sham-Ed
Because the models themselves aren't good enough

What a lie
That we hold so close
That no matter who you are
You could be better

When we were young
Barbie and Disney princesses
At some point we wanted to be

Even those tiny books
that we got for puberty
With the charts all draw
Spell out how to shave and trim and keep your body
not every once saying- you are beautiful 
Just a mute whisper of- you can be better
Let's stop with this isolation, damnation, and poverty 
of our own self confidence
with an economy of inflated consciousness 


There is such a small line between 
Too little or too much
Of all this powder and fluff 
Taking in the fear of hate
Pushing us to the point to recreate
Our own faces 

We only keep doing this because we are Being pricked and prodded
Being pinned to the wall with comments begin jabbed in our hearts into our heads

Does the bareness of my face make your decisions?
Do the clothes I wear determine your fate?
Do the hairs upon my legs determine your future? 
A butterfly effect but with something I choose to control 
because just like a butterfly 
I am beautiful 
and unique
and colorful

We have our natural beauty just as them
They don't need paints and dyes to fill in the flaws of their own wings 
So why do we need it for our own skin
We are more durable than delicate stained glass wings 
We are more proud a then every beat upon those wings
But yet as it flies free, showing its talent 
we hide in our rooms, in layers of clothing, and behind layers of paint and powder 
to mimic another 

As the butterfly grows it become more open, more free
And more embracing of itself
but we as humans
Go backwards
We start, young and happy
And free
Then slowly revert
Back to our cocoons

Back to our paper walls of power and paint
a mask of mâché to cover our face 
 


Not All Life is Visible

Life,
The definition is the animate existence of an individual
With deeper thinking this could become quite critical
With our own thoughts it would become mythical or biblical
But not all life is visible 

Yes, we have a many moments
A 1st grade birthday party
A hard chemistry exam
A high school graduation
A date with the one you love
An unexpected day that you had dreamed or dread to come

By the definition of life
I am alive
That is that I survive
I move
I breathe
I don't have to feel
To be considered alive

But for me to consider myself to be alive
I must strive
Never taking a test drive
A choice coming from me
Always thinking what I could be

Life,
The definition is the animate existence of an individual 
Never thinking once, how it could be miserable

Yet, life for me
Is not the same for you
There is nothing for me to do
To feel the way that you do

I can't understand the hopeless feeling
you get every day when you realized 
you woke up
not endlessly falling in nonexistence
A part of life where death is better

Twisting and turning the invisible rope in your hands
Dealing with death, the invisible dance

Juggling the pills bottles in your thoughts
Hoping the intention never comes across

A trigger of a gun being ticked by imaginary fingers
A feeling of dread starting to linger

As crying blood flows from slits and slices 
that run from razors cut sharp and hopeless
As your life is a vice 
holding you locked in place
I don't see a room of people 
like the guillotine stage 
or the hanging tree
Where one wrong word and
Every fake smile and glassy eye
with turn toward you with hands of knives 
And cut though you 
shredding you to ribbons

I don't experience the addiction 
Of adrenaline for alcohol
The crave for crack 
The hype for heroine
The madness for meth
How is tears at your insides
Like a monster in your blood
Wanting more and more and more
I don't see what scars are hidden under your clothes 
the pills that you hold close
the endless battles ranging in your head 
causing you to pull your own skin

A shine of hope shattered
Your whole world battered
Your life torn and tattered

Until you begin to flood
Go head under water 
Unable to breathe
some surface just scared and confused 
while others never surface
Stuck down in their own deep lagoon 

We are all missing pieces
shards of our mirrors
So our reflection though reflected is altered
With a bit of flawed perfection 

Even with background noise or radio static 
the good or bad accusations bleed to the the top of your life
Staining you
As bad memory
Like an intricate tattoo 

I don't know your way of life
Though one things holds us all true
We all die.
We all drop the burdening stones in our life
Leaving the sack of skin to hang on a coat rack
As we step away from our life we worked so hard at
To whatever happens next
A leap into the void
Or more so, an unwanted push

Free Falling
With no nets to catch me
I am gone
This for me, is fear

Fear, the definition,
An unpleasant emotion
Caused by the belief
That someone or something
Is dangerous,
Likely to cause pain,
Or a threat.

Though this is not a thing
Or a person
It is the essence of nothing
But is nothing, something?
It was nothing, until we gave it a name
Then it is something

This something as a nothing
Manifested in my brain
Forming images of my own grave

How years from now after I've passed
The only things left of me
Is a name on a rock
Of course most of us has this as fear

So less about that and more about me
Me and my anxiety

Such little ticks and tocks cause my brain to work like a clock
My blood running with an electric shock
Move fast body parts clash
Moving always in a dash

Get this done here, that done there
Quick quick
Back forth
Always forward
Do, don't, done, did, doing
How?! Now?!
What?! Where?! Why?! When?! Who?!
What am I going to do?

A fear, stuck to my DNA
Sewn into my brain
An anxiety

A fear, stuck inside me
Strangling me until I can't breathe
A struggle, with me crawling on hands and knees
Until I have cried with bloody tears
A fear...

Life,
The definition is the animate existence of an individual
But not all life is visible
For I am alive
But half dead


With this fear, stuck in my head

Sanctuary

My poetry
My sanctuary
A temple safe from reality

Do not take your stone axes to these pillars I have carved
For this is my home land and not yours

You don't have to bow down or adore
Look right over there is the door
Leave

As I stand here and believe in the power of my words
Granted to me the scriptures

That was made up in my head
With all these sayings to shed

A bird molting old feathers to grow anew
A scab forming in order to heal

A place for me to reside
When I have no one to stand beside

A voice out to people
About the loneliness in my steeple

A shiver down my spine
Whenever I imagine something so divine
Not divinity from the above heavens

As this world rapes away my virginity
But not the kind played out in back alleys or in a bed
But the ideas and thoughts running through the dark passages in my head

Have you seen these lines under my eyes
And seen how much I have tried

Limping forward with both arms numb
Trying to carry all I have done

My family, friends and lovers have bleed
To have my head covered in lead

To lock in all these uncomfortable feelings
To stop me from believing

And here I kneel at the pew
Crying and screaming and trying to decide what to do

Climbing the steps
I stumble and slip and fall

Dear god help me
For I am falling
I do not fear the fall its self
But what happens after

My story can't end yet
I can't just let my words go
Lingering here for this show
Of my emotions and beliefs

For I have a personal poetic prophecy
And without it I am lost you see
My words are my bible
And my tongue speaking my gospel

I will travel
And dapple
In all others stories and desperate cries
As I hold my poems to me even as I die

Poetry is my sanctuary
It keeps me from losing my sanity
Allowing my words to be spilled out on a page

It holds me close as I cry
And allows me to continue trying
To fit my tiny sanctuary
Into this crazy rea
lity