Wow did I really write that, cont.?

Going over some writings and its been a long time since I sat down to read them.

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I gather grass and  greet flowers

On summer afternoons. 

You’ll often find me crying

because a flower never bloomed. 

With a pen or a stick

I like to draw out  what I see.

I am in the form of a rumbling bumblebee.

Floating, flying up around but never  flying free.

A bit of a puzzle?

Shake the box if you agree. 

Don’t cry as the pieces fall out for you to do as you  please.

Steam Engine/blowing off steam

I suck at poetry, suck ,suck, suck, suck , suck.

Want to taste my blood?

Cant master the feat, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud.

Critics don’t trample me!

Can’t keep the beat, rush, rush, rush, rush, rush.

Will you wait with me?

I ‘just in infancy, putt, putt, putt, putt, putt.

Car, come hit me!

I lost my blood as I heard the thud.

Trampling me, they rush and wait as my pulse goes putt, putt,….putt.

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I have fear, I have pain.

I have numbness in my brain.

I have dreams, I have passion.

I have love underneath the shame.

I am normal, I am crazy. 

I am somewhere in-between.

I am dark, I am light. 

I am opaque like the ocean sea.

I have color, I have warmth.

I plead insanity.

Ishens

Repetition in loom.

Deception leads to doom.

Misconception is to be dismayed.

Destruction is chaos at play.

Demolition is man’s way to deconstruct.

Insurrection is a way to fight. 

Communication is about the bright. 

Conception is a word for start.

Connection is about body and heart.

Perfection is a frame of mind.

Direction is standing right in line.

Intention does not fit in time.

Selection is the wiser wine.

Acception is awful kind.

Affection is the heart of mine.

Celebration is feeling fine.

Presentation is a gift that shines.

Revolution is about the rhyme.

Creation is destined to be God’s time.

Rhythm rebels reign

Conscious lyrics move the groove.

Jah revolution.

Insurrection instigates independence and the individual.

Words for Wisdom

Constant worry about a selfish ego

is the well half empty or full?

Speechless fear splashes

with every bucket pulled.

Still to chance

is far better

than to

drown

in

shallow

waters.

I Am Not What You Want

I am not a dreamer.

I am a realist.

I’ve lived too much to be sitting on cloud nine.

I still have work to do.

I am not a conformist.

I am a rebel.

I sit comfortably in a hectic crowd.

I have strength of my own from within.

I am not an infant.

I am a playful child.

I know how to play crazy games.

My goal is to make you smile.

I remember the past.

I live in the present.

I was once broken, shattered and bruised.

I clearly remember who did what, when and to whom.

I am not a talker.

I am a thinker.

I have screamed silently on mountaintops.

I can hear reeds bending silently in the wind.

I have lost too many battles.

I am with passion that ignites the fight.

I am not a daughter of Whistler.

I am an abstract picture.

Short and Surmised

I like to hide

Within my mind

Maybe seen

Within a glance

in your eye

I am stoic

In the darkness

At home am I

Enjoying the depths

I plunder

Into unknown

Comforted with less

than affectionate pleasure

Waiting for some to know

Sitting in weathered torment

Storm subsides against

Ones eyes glows

Can you come and search

Can you seek to find

Are you in lurk

To destroy a delicate mind

Residual lingering shot

Like morphine to ones

own thought