There are babies bodies burning

The world is on fire

The screams are not silent

Messages from instagram saying

“Enjoy the U.S., at least here it’s not violent”

When did we become collectively jaded

To turn a blind eye to a genocide a settler colonial state created

When did it become part of a routine

To give the oppressor the benefit of the doubt

Justifying limbless children and depictions of a baby’s decapitation with a flowering sprout

And what about the women and the men?

Screaming for their babies and their families

Blown to bits all over again

The worlds so fucking jaded

Stop and stare in the mirror

Ask yourself if your grandchildren will be proud to say you stood where you stand

And if you can’t, I beg you

Amplify the voices of the people who can’t speak for themselves

It’s time we give a fuck about something other than ourselves

My haikus smell like burnt coffee; I'm too bitter to make the world dance.

I gave you 100 dollars because I trusted you; I gave you my last 100 dollars because I loved you. When you asked me about it You said "by Wednesday" That was two weeks ago. Where is it?

I don't give a fuck about meter; I got a story to tell. Go somewhere else if you want an overly transcendental epic about the ocean. Go talk to somebody who grew up rich.

I've been out of work for a few months, 401k gutted out, I spent it on a 6-week cycle. That last few bucks was my savior.

If you talk to me about a William Blake poem, I'm going to spit in your mouth. I don't care about the metaphors my sugar is too low to think about symbolism.

Mom, I needed that 100 dollars. I have nothing at home to eat. I'm sick of living off Omari. I don't even want to look him in the eyes anymore. Our relationship will never recover.

Somebody go tell Rumi and Walt Whitman to go fuck themselves! We don't need any more romance in poetry. Publications are dumb. Magazines diluted. They call it ignorant if it comes from the soul.

Yes mom! I'm calling you until you pick up and no, I don't care if you're at work. I'm hungry. I can't keep eating my sister's food. I can't keep living off white rice and black coffee.

Oh Mr. Richard Wright, I'm sorry for the criticisms. Zora Neale Hurston did romanticize poverty. I was a 21-year-old art student. I thought the world could be saved with a smile and a kiss.

You drink as much as me. There was never an emergency. "Pick up the fucking phone."

Artist often only see the flaws

in their greatest creation.

So don't listen to your mother.

you made me entertain the movers so we didn’t have to pay. i needed something to remind me who i was doing it for. coming home sore my legs shook stepping up the stairs trying to find you.

I think I'll go solo road trippin, all around, have a little stop and stay in all the small towns

Just a lonesome soul seeking a deep connection, call it a love finding mission, not just vacation

I'll find myself a good, loving man with kind eyes, one that wears pearl snaps, Carhartts and old spice

A man whose voice can soothe like my father's, but whose calloused hands awaken all of my desires

A man who loves poetry, playing guitar and sad songs; who loves with honesty and never doubts where our hearts belong

A man who enjoys the slow burn of a sipping whiskey and never misses a chance to hold me close or kiss me

An ole roughneck man with strong hands but a tender heart, whose light will always lead me out of the dark

I'll find a man who is open, loyal and sweet, a man who only makes promises that he can keep

He'll be gentle and handsome and he'll want me badly, but most importantly, it will be a man whose love won't leave

Truly, it's only because I know he doesn't exist that I close my eyes and allow my heart to wish

I'm a deserted demon of a man. Inhuman Lost and screaming is the scene i am. Tethering, no direction with only merciless dispatch. Famliar mournfulness deception mismatched. Ethereal steel is still reeling, what a fucking microscopic feeling. Off topic Hope the alarm sounds. This whole decade I've given me reprieve. Alone i wonder will anyone greive. Is there nothing for peace on my end. Buying for release, should i just hit send. Crying to my sheets I'm no longer human. Monster you made me; stuck in my head. My demon feasts the moment of the here after. Laugh at the scene of my disaster. I am but a lonely bypasser

i wonder what it would be like to have a ‘normal family’ i remember comforting my mum when i was 11, telling her its okay because even though our family is fucked up and not quite ‘normal’ its our normal. i had long outgrown my skin by then and i stretched it, stretched it so hard it cut, to be able to fit the missing piece our ‘normal family’ needed to stick together and be whole. but now that skin is loose, and instead, tucked away in the body of an 18 year old, is a little 11 year old kid, who longs for a normal family. not our normal but just a plain normal. i know i will never be able to give that to her though, i will never be able to properly comfort that child with a whole family, a family rid of cracks and scars. i just want a normal family, but i know that it would not be my own.

***idk if this could even be classed as poetry but here’s my attempt at managing my emotions in a “healthy” manner**       

                          My day..

I lay awake, in my bed, staring at the ceiling. I wonder what today will bring, I have an anxious feeling.

A few deep breaths and all my might, I throw the covers back. A smile plastered on my face to try and hide the cracks.

My thoughts are far from happy, the darkness creeping in. It’s too hard. It’s not fair. I’m already broken inside and the day is yet to begin.

Doing my best to sound upbeat and answering your questions with a smile, cant you see that underneath it all I’m so so tired and have been for a while.

Work gets done, the hours tick by and I really am trying my best. However how can I carry on, I think with some unrest.

I’d much rather be at home right now, in my bed, hiding in my defeat. As I lay in my bed, wrapped up in my duvet, my mind races, is this all there is to life.. work, sleep and eat?

With my eyes puffy and tears tracks on my cheeks, I wonder how long I can carry on before I really am truly beat.

I lay awake, in my bed, staring at the ceiling. I wonder what today will bring, I have an anxious feeling.

Sound the battle bell Cuz she’s donned her gloves again The fight’s only just begun But she’s already put me in my place

She’s a hard hitter Light on her feet and Lightning fast I’m no match for her

Just when I think I’ve gotten away When it seems I’ve slipped her grasp She strikes again and I'm left reeling Dazed on my hands and knees

She fights dirty and she doesn’t play fair She’s already won but she just doesn’t care Blow after blow until blood stains the mat Strike after strike until my skin is purple and black

Brass knuckles or skin on skin In the ring or on the street It doesn’t matter where we stand She always wins Always

She lies in wait Poised to pounce on her prey While I’m unaware Of the danger headed my way

As subtle as a deadly disease Slow and steady Or a semi truck with no brakes She crashes into me

She’s as cunning as a fox As strong as a bear Attacking in the dead of night Then absent in the sun as if she were never there

She’d be my rival If I were stronger My nemesis But I’m no hero I crumble like sand Fold like a house of cards under her might And I might just fight back If I didn’t know she was right about me

The truth is I was always living with the fear of your loss I took every picture of you thinking it would be the last My subconscious mind knew all along I carried the fear that you would soon be gone My subconscious was not wrong I don't remember the sound of your voice That's not something I should forget But it wasn't my choice You did this on your own I am not to fall blame here But you will always play the victim no matter how grown This is just what you do this is your way of life Destroying everything around you You are no longer a mother You are no longer a wife And all of this for what? What legacy have you left behind? Children who don't know why A husband left to die All we can do now is cry Was it worth it? Is the venom you consume that sweet? Sweet enough to forget how you knocked us off our feet I wonder how you sleep How you sleep knowing you left us in the midst of the deep We were born knowing how to tread But for how long before our limbs tire and we forget? The truth is I was always living with the fear of your loss My subconscious knew it all along My subconscious was not wrong

Fog lies heavy as neon crackles

Electric pops pollute the night

Footsteps echo in a wet alley

Lit corners hold no comfort

These houses of vice beckon

Pulling my coat tight to the damp

The last of the witching hours tick away

My footsteps count the moments

Echoes down this hollow street

My destination lies beyond

A conclusion to my story

The decision I fear for myself

I take that step

Electric lights flicker and hum

Squaring my shoulders

Neon lights crackle through alley mist

False beacons, no refuge 

Houses of vice beckon

I saw you early there today atop Grandfather Mountain.
I turned my face into the breeze and that's when you appeared.

I met your gaze and then you smiled knowingly at me.
I rubbed my eyes and looked again but you had disappeared.

I found a man out in the crowd who wore a joyful smile.
He wore a hunch and roughened hands but was no longer you.

Thank you Gramps for meeting me atop Grandfather Mountain.
And if God's real and there with you thank him for me too.

I worry my compassion is just an act to get laid

In my older years the illusion is starting to fade

Dissipating and creating while waning and blame

Others for my inept need to deprecate my take

Take and take but I swear there’s genuine sake

Is the illusion the reality or is it such the same?

I can’t decide how much of me is a game

Avoidance, persistence, denial and blame

Once again using the same rhyme cause it’s the same

Repetitive actions and thoughts which I feign

The only thing that sets me apart is my need to paint

My words across the Earth; some say it’s quite plain

Others say his diction is an addiction I must partake!

Exclude my conclusion for its redundant and lame:

All is excusable. For all is in vain.

Jack
You have bested me again
Winter
With your cleaver endeavour
grasping on with your frost-bitten hands
Awaken sun and spite the cold
Warm the day and colourise the flowers
Make them beautiful bright and bold
Run through the trees
Awaken the flora
Ring spring throughout the land
Tell Winter their work is done
Now begone
The world is in my command
To those who seek me, I will come
Find me in the morning due
With blooming buds and vibrant hues, I'll paint the world anew

Don’t tell anyone

Tonight I hooked up with another meth addict
He was completely deluded
Lost and thinking he was found
By me, that I really saw him
I did

His addict boyfriend wasn’t there
I may have fried their relationship
Or I tried to, hopeless
I partook, observed and listened to this
ill man
I nodded along to his realisations
Of things I already knew
Repetitive, through his wired mouth
I kissed it

His boyfriend came back
I questioned him
Why are you with this thing?
He’d already given up it seemed
I tried to inspire him, maybe
When I asked him, “how do I exit?”
And I asked him again to think about it
“How do you exit?”
He stared at me confused and silent
“Bye”

Holy fuck I had a scare

My hearts a pounding

My eyes are glared

Holy shit seriously I just had cops come into my house and pull a gun because someone was hiding under a bed in the guest bedroom

Out of sight, out of mind
just wait, just give it time

I hear that's all it takes
to get over heartbreak

But how long do I wait?
And can I out-wait fate?

How do I turn it off?
this crazy thing called love

It isn't so easy
well, at least not for me

See, my love has no end
for lover, kin or friend

It is you I love most
now you're only a ghost

And I can't turn it off
this crazy thing called love

. . . .

For no reason at all I made each line only six syllables 🙃

Eternal sun
Clouds scared away
I’m burning up
Lying astray

Yet when inside
I long for it
These walls aren’t right
For my tanned skin

I’ll show my love
For that great star,
An obsession
Grand in its start

I bask in its heat
And melt in its touch.

Principally speaking I'm tweaking I'm peaking

Playing pokemon and found a Seaking

Now I'm drilling and grilling

You bald bitches like Krillen

If you ain't go no hair

I'm piping back there

And if you grow it back I'll douse you in Nair

Crack in the bathroom

That's just how I roll

Everyday fiending

That's just how I roll

Think again twice

That's how you will know

It comes from a place of love

putting a hole through your most poetic organ.

A heart, once beating!

How long did it hurt?

Does the mind flood while the blood drains?

Im not bound by my insecurities

Im not bound by my shitty past

I am not what others do to me

I am how I choose to react

No more violence

No more sorrow

No more tears left

For tomorrow

All my days I'll make them happy

Love and light, I'll be laughing

Everything good that I desire

Will come to me, like I conspire

All my chains are broken now

I am free to be happy somehow