Another nightmare woke up screaming,
After a dream of myself singing to the ringtone on my phone, Sun beaming, Knowing that my terrors are now behind me, The futures ringing, My past and all the horrors I've learned to live with, Are now to me the breeze singing, Windchimes.
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A quality that is maintained and sustained by the faculties of the brain
Aided by an awareness of self but from the outside lookin in Can be perceived but never received as mundane A uniqueness fueled by an independence and a resistance to be anything opposite of different Because if my friends jump off a bridge would I jump wit'em Considerin I didn't even know the basics of swimmin Not to mention That water might not be the spot that stop was endin And my pride in some situations I find to be a hindrance regardless of position Adapt An ability to overcome because failure is not an option on this mission With an open mindedness accompanied with an acknowledgment of traits you don't usually find in this generation or times Physically they say I'm at my peak but mentally Far! From my prime A dime Wit a lack of confidence you'll never see That’s in short supply and you at the back of the line And a gift for a love of words that my momma say I need to learn and observe Because of this consciousness I see how its use can cause other to swerv A.K.A A depiction of verbs I'm talkin bout symbolical meanings teeming with the effects of insecurities and inner turmoil My whole family do this And that’s just reading with the intent to learn more POETIC! Four chambers barreled together, locked in a chest behind a cage forever, in the darkness crying away in a timbre, that few can hear carrying on to remember, while forcing away tears of sad Decembers, its song, Thump-Thump Thump-Thump, reaches out to others and cries "Life has been unfair to all of us!" matching tone and pitch with a choir of stitched up and beaten down trampled on hearts, whos' sorrow covers thick the floor of tomorrow, each beat crashing waves against times past to furrow, the brows of confused listeners and those who follow the beat that resonates within, who then find tomorrow to be a better hue, for the tune reached out and elevated now, those who dared remember their sorrow together, to a place where the heavens now tremor to their beat of Thump-Thump Thump-Thump, so those who know lonesome and sorrow as Christmas gifts down on the street, at least have a song to join in on, so lonesome can sing along while sorrow keeps the beat, as shadows of wishes dance between the lights that play on twisted strings over happy homes on which are reindeer and angel wings, their colors and lights refracted through tears turn each into a star that when wished upon returns only a silence, a reminder of where you are, a soloist who's part in the choir is needed so all the stars can hear it, the cry of a bleeding heart in the dark, to join the lonely others who find comfort and solace in their parts,
Thump-Thump Thump-Thump Thump-Thump Thump-Thump Four chambers barreled together, locked in a chest behind a cage forever, in the darkness singing away in a timbre, that resonates the soul so others will remember, those in need of just a glimmer, so their song, Thump-Thump Thump-Thump, won't be their last performance this December. Go not with heavy heart as you disembark from this journey we had together, and know that you have left your mark on our hearts and souls forever, in these places you'll be with songs played on strings while fond memories play in between, so goodbye and so long, go share with the world your songs, and may you too remember us fondly, for you brought change to a stage that not many would say was worth the effort to fix, whose twinkling stars now shine bright with a glimmer of light called life that you brought to it, so go with grace take the world by the reins and know you have earned all the love we have for you, and if in this vision of grand design we live in, we are meant to meet again, any of us would consider it a blessing.
Everyday I wake up I have to wait to be released
Roll over and be patient Till my bunkie get done wit his morning ritual pee Just so I can brush my teeth Or vice versa He gottah wait on me I hear yall out there losin it Talkin and walkin in circles Well we been doin dat Except for we got uniforms tryin to get us to perform tricks Like jumpin through hoops and over hurdles Everybody comparin vices in a crisis We do that too with even less we can do And they keep up-in the prices People on Social Media having problems with Social Distancin Now if I had one I'd be in isolation wit even mo contact missin But it ain't nobody listen So I have to stay on my square wit no support Cause since court All I have is my mental consolation due to my Social Sentencing And on this path my Grandma past and I only get to hug my momma once a year On top of that I rarely get time wit my kids I'd love to get quarantined wit dem You think y’all strugglin’ This is my definition of a pandemic A.K.A The way that I live! POETIC! The first time when our eyes met and the world melted away, or that pause before we first kissed, the moment when first we twined, and after you gasped while on your face you wore bliss. The times spent staring at forever while in the arms of one another, and those times apart unable to look at each other. The moment of unspoken resignation when forgiveness bloomed and staved off our devastation. The hours spent watching peaceful smiles while you were asleep, knowing you did the same when you just couldn't catch a wink. But over time the silence grew old, and where once it brought warmth, now is nothing but cold. So in attempts to find heat tempers flare, arguments start over nothing, and no silence is anywhere, its landscape thrashed by acid and venom, leaving scars where things were to be left buried and forgotten. Now scorched and destroyed, what once was a garden of eden, is decided to be abandoned with no-one left to toil. As the dust settles and silence is restored, an understanding crosses between, knowing there is no going back to before, that our golden age has passed and there is nothing left in store, the hour of devastation passes and not a word about what could have been is spoken anymore.
The moral I bring is simply this, if you don't pay attention, life’s grandest moments you will miss, for all the noise and distractions in our world, it's the silent moments that are gifts, and bring more change than you will ever know I'VE NEVER SEEN SO MANY MEN CONTENT ON DOING TIME, WHEN THEY WERE CONTENT ON DOING CRIME, IT'S LIKE WHEN THEY WERE SENTENCED THE JUDGE GAVE THEM A "X" AMOUNT OF TIME, AND ALSO TOLD THE SHERIFFS BEFORE YOU LOCK HIM UP MAKE SURE HE SURRENDERS HIS SPINE.
SO NOW YOU CAN'T STAND UP, 15 20 30YRS IN YOU CAN'T MAN UP, THE WOMEN IN THE FACILITY WHERE YOU'RE AT THE KITTY KATS ARE TALKING TO THE OLD DAWGS LIKE YOU'RE A YOUNG PUP,YOU'VE BEEN NEUTERED YOU CAN'T LET THEM HANG BECAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE NO NUTS WHAAAT! BUT YOU'RE FAKING LIKE YOU'VE STAYED STRONG, WALKING AROUND WITH YOUR CHEST OUT LIKE WE CAN GET IT ON, EVERYBODY KNOW YOU'RE TRYING TO GO HOME, SO QUIT ACTING CRAZY BEFORE YOU SCARE ONE OF THESE DUDES AND THEY CRACK YOUR DOME. YOU'VE LOST YOUR RESISTANCE, OLE GIRL HAS MOVED ON AND YOUR FAMILY IS SICK OF YOUR SHIT, IT'S BEEN 2YRS SINCE YOUR LAST VISIT, HUMAN COMPASSION YOU MISS IT, SO YOU'RE EVALUATING YOUR LIFE THINKING BACK TO YOUR CRIME WISHING YOU NEVER DID IT, SO YOUR ONLY HOPE IS A PAROLE BOARD DECISION, LAST TIME THEY SAID DUE TO THE NATURE OF YOUR CRIME YOUR PRISON STAY WOULD BE EXTENDED, AND YOU STILL DON'T GET IT. SEE IN YOUR MIND YOU THINK YOU'VE CHANGED, AND YOU MAY HAVE BUT THE ONES AFFECTED BY YOUR ACTIONS STILL FEEL THE SAME, YOU HURT THEM BAD AND THEY CAN STILL FEEL THE PAIN, SO THE CHANGE YOU SEE IN YOU THEY STILL SEE THE SAME, AND THEY'RE STILL HOLDING YOU TO BLAME,LIFE IS TOO SHORT TO BE PLAYING GAMES, AND YOU'VE BEEN GONE SO LONG DON'T NOBODY REMEMBER YOUR NAME. SO I GOTS TO GO PIMP BUT REMEMBER THIS WHILE YOU DO THIS BID, ITS EASIER TO MAKE STRONG KIDS, THAN IT IS TO REPAIR BROKEN MEN.... POETIC! The world can no longer neglect the fact of feeling my "pain".
As if being locked down in a 6 by 12 wasn't good enough. Now the world understands the everyday strains put upon individuals like me being stuffed in a confined space "wondering", what's 2 come next. With the possibilities of going insane... The tell-lie-visions only seem 2 make me become more and more vexed!! the media with a visual only makes my anxiety burst -2- the point I'm cursing at the walls as they continue closing in as if I were having an outer body experience looking at myself from outside of my own hearse You're out there in the world while I'm stuck in the worst!! But everyday I see something even worse!! than having 2 sit still in a big free world!! for just a little while... Meanwhile, your time will come 2 be physically and mentally exonerated "meaning free" by simply listening and making intellectual decisions that in the end will allow you all 2 see, That WE all make bad choices in life and should not be quick 2 judge a man simply by the historical tree where the roots have been planted, watered but only nurtured 2 a certain degree... Now that you have been a little bit more introduced 2 me, know that I'm not perfect, but just another casualty of this pandemic crisis here 4-u- in these times of need, and troubled times....... Peace & blessings... I LOVE THE FEELING OF WHAT I THOUGHT WAS POWER, BEING OUT OF CONTROL LIVING RECKLESS IT'S ALL ABOUT ME. IM A OUTLAW, GANGSTA, WHAT YOU CALL A THUG, I LIVE MY LIFE THRU THE OLD ADAGE I'LL RATHER BE FEARED THAN LOVED. IT'S ON THE FLOOR WITH ME, MAMA TOLD ME "I DON'T CARE DON'T GET YOU NOWHERE" BUT I WAS HALF DRUNK AND HIGH OFF DRUGS.
GUNS, RANDOM SEX, AND VIOLENCE, I THOUGHT THAT WAS THE LIFE, I DIDN'T KNOW I WAS PUTTING MYSELF THRU A SPIRITUAL, AND EMOTIONAL RIOT, SO MUCH SO THAT WHEN THINGS FINALLY NORMALIZED WAS GOING TO BE HARD TO QUIET. CHANGE IS NOT ONLY GOOD CHANGE IS GREAT, I DO THE RIGHT THING BECAUSE IT'S THE RIGHT THING TO DO, I SOMETIMES REVISIT THE OLD ME, BUT MOST TIMES NOT LONG ENOUGH TO ACT ON IT, BUT IT'S THE TIME WHEN MY OLD ME COMES THRU AND MAKES ME FEEL LIKE I'VE FAILED TODAY IS WHAT I HATE. THERE'S ATTITUDE THAT STARTS OUT AS SMALL AS A MUSTARD SEED IN ME, BUT QUICKLY GROWS INTO A MIGHTY OAK TREE, COMES ACROSS AS COCKY AS ROCKY, AND DURING THOSE TIMES I FEEL AS THOUGH NO MAN ALIVE CAN STOP ME. SO WHEN IT GROWS I HAVE TO FIND PRODUCTIVITY FOR ME TO REMAIN STABLE IT GROWS AND I CHOPS IT DOWN AND MAKE A OAKWOOD TABLE.... POETIC Fresh looseleaf to which is bequeathed any breadth of information for later observation by any designated of whom the cerebric pliation is required. And did I mention that all of this syllabic commotion is solely directed upon that which is the topic of conversation, being what is the possible duration of any information and its proper alleviation, on paper. For what becomes of a new leaf is solely up to the writer, and their linguistic ability to confide in, a single piece of paper, with whatever tool they favor, their hopes and dreams and wishes. Perhaps a note to pull the strings of cardiac cords so music can ring on two hands entwined or, maybe a telling tale of how someone failed but miracles never ceased and found within or from a friend that they now have what they need to succeed, or perhaps it shall be that the paper will see the ages of time dash past, while keeping within what it means to sin and how to be a friend, so when finally found as a treasure i mound, a grateful people will take the greatest of care and ensure that there is nowhere, that such invaluable information isn't heard in every nation, throughout the world, or perhaps it will be made to sit and wait for this poet to make up his mind and decide to write down this poem. Because to a poet and pencil a new piece of paper is unlimited potential and should be treated as such as precious metal, for the value of a sheet of paper, that has weathered times river and avoided the shredder, is priceless when you consider that the information is never going to be less than what it was when written. So in conclusion I leave you with this note - if paper has the potential to change the world by being itself, what's stopping you?
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