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avoidintellect · 2 years

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♥☻

To the end of time,

and I stay in line ,

each specific word that didn’t linger

but it stayed and soaked into each point

And my life stays calm

in the midst of the storm.

I must belong.

I feel no wrong

and does that make me

prone to violence

and in silence

I stare

into the mid air

cold tears slither down my cheek

it reeks

its a scentless and it creeps into your every pore

into my eyes its sore

and I blink,

strugglin’ to grasp a thought, tryin to think.

it won’t sink…in

leavin’ and sayin I’m not comin back

but don’t worry you will forget

before I leave , finish your drink and swear,

you don’t ever know, me from nowhere.

#perspective #spoken poetry #my poetry #thought provoking #poetsontumblr #poetsonig #poetsonpoetry #poets on tumblr #poets on poetry #love quote #poetry #poemsontumblr #poems on tumblr #poetscorner #blackpeople #blackpoetry #black poetry

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afreenisnotapoet · 5 years

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A poets dilemma

It’s a poets dilemma, they fall in love with every word that rhymes,

They feel a little too much, living in a fantasy isn’t a good idea at all times,

It’s a poets dilemma, they live in dark rooms but their words so colourful and bright,

They’re like magicians who set the papers on fire in which their souls ignite,

It’s a poets dilemma, they can’t forget the past; they’ve got it engraved in a haiku that hangs on their wall,

They paint a person in the picture of the sunrise, a beauty that can enthral,

It’s a poets dilemma, they colour the world in black and blue but their feelings are all covered in red,

If you look closely every meaning is joined together with a delicate thread,

It’s a poets dilemma, everyone finds their own pain in the words they write but never the screams behind,

They don’t let the tears scar the paper, they let the words look one of their kind,

It’s a poets dilemma, they’ll make your eyes their muse, but trap you if you look too close into their own,

It’s a poets dilemma, their words run so deep they could tear you apart; skin to bone.

-afreen

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jgreyblog · 6 years

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A couple of years ago I had an obsession with ballet. It was beautiful: pure art and athleticism at its finest. What I realize now is the reason I was in love with it was: even though it could be considered abuse on the body, because of the love these dancers have for their craft it is secondary. Through helplessly loving certain people, I inflicted pain upon myself but it was secondary to that love. It wasn’t until I was at last betrayed by you I realized the pain wasn’t worth it. Shortly after, I fell out of love with ballet.

j. grey

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geynubian · 5 years

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Bobby.

dont you even try and make it seem

like that day , dat event was just a dream

or better yet call it as it is, a nightmare

and then the blank look on your face, met my broken stare

and you lashed out , broke ma jaw, without a care

making me suffer, for some years , and still im unaware

of why you’d even stoop so low, dont you even dare

try and act like you even wanted me here

I was nothin but a stress reliever

And sick and tired of that old line “i will do better”

so i said fuck this shit and grabbed the revolver.

Ooo its all makin sense now, you seen my blood spaltter

I know you called for help, it doesnt matter

soon I’ll be at rest , layin happily ever ater,

and I wont sleep in fear, of floorboards creakin’

listening waitin for distant chatter, and then the door squeakin

as the gang comes in

there’s nobody here , but ik you exist , I see you creepin in

and creep , creep up you slide and listen to me weepin

I dont wnna turn to face you, so i pretend im sleepin

the feelin is to intense , so i turn and confront the gang

quiet is the first one’s bark, but the pain cut deep,

constant doubt in the corners of my mind when ever the second one is around

and deep down inbeded in each paranoid heart beat, lays the third member,

where rain , sun, winter or summer

it never fades , third eye , just opens up and allows to to see time fly

makes me lay in my bed , woke , watchin time dance in my mind

now deep deep into the depths of my chemical river, into the very gutter

Is the fourth member, and she is disgusted by who she has made me become

But you are not aware that these manifest and change me

You mock the gang i tell you about

that slides in every night

why i suffer from insominia , each time i highlight

the fear, the bone trembling , fright

they come in the quiet and the dark,

when im alone , in the shower,

when im tryin to work, when you compliment me.

they are my only company

that keeps you away from me

or was it the other way around?

Am I pushin you far back each day, week , year

Im sorry , i am just in fear

that my soul will be lost in a temple thats cursed

and that this prayer I been told to say will make the situation worst

I was taught to forget all crap and always put god first

but all these silent mocks , make me wanna burst

into tears, pullin out my hair as my life starts to fall apart

keep it together, shh , dont speak negativity it manifest , dont start

to drift , these meds will make it okay

or will it make it temperamentally go away?

What thats always what you say .

each time , i do fall down

I’m lost in prayer,

but if if this temple , my soul resides in is cursed

and she is lost , tricked and now cant come out ,

would the lord wanna save a lost soul, trapped in this pit

of nothin, starin, doubtin, always questionin

If its soo difficult to love myself,

can he with all this intellectual wealth, ever love me?

And then the song sings

quiet at first ,I raise ma head and groan this unsung hymn

my weak vocal chords are loud enough to break

this walls i’ve built down and just be free

Mental chains keep me in silence

forever singin a beat that i cannot speak

speak this hymn and end up gettin cursed

when im not favored by anything else.

I stay in silence and hope that my pretentious

and dive into my subconscious

psycho analyse myself cos I dont wanna make a fuss

about something I don’t study

probe , research , break it down and grind it up

blow all this dust away

dust to dust , ashes to ashes,

would my stale spirit still lurk , whilst my dust blows away?

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ivyartisticchaos · 3 years

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I have been somewhat paralized in my attempt to figure how I want to respond to #BlackLivesMatter and the bullshittery that countuines with our Idiot In Chief (aside from 'I told you so' to those who thought I was overreacting when he was voted in) and have only been able to come up with two concrete thoughts or as some of you may call them, paintings. * One of the few plus sides to having been raised by educated hoarders is an over abundance of books available (There were 7+ bookcases here at one point). Since being forced to move back home, I recently happened to find a stack of books that was with some of my father's stuff, including 2 hand painted protest posters I hope to include as an installation part of a future show. *Most* of these fit right with #BLM and educating myself on the poetry and prose of the side of myself my American Education had left behind. * The yoga is relavant to my recent attempt to stick with #UnderBellyYoga (@mynameisjessamyn) daily. Missed the last 2 days. And meditate along with @SamHarris #WakingUpApp for 15 days now. * I am currently having a hard time trying to even get out of bed in the morning, but I know the answers I seek are hidden in these pages and practices. Just need to keep pushing through until 'this too shall pass'. Take care y'all. * Almost forgot to mention #IniSips black owned coffee and tea company. Seemed appropriate. * #roots #alexHaley #fiveplaysbyLangstonHughes #lanstonhughes #mulatto #jazzcountry #NatHentoff #coupd'etat #EdwardLuttwak #poetsonpoetry #CharlesNorman #ThePoetryofSoul #PoetryofTheBlackRevolution #A.X.Nicholas #IAmThird #GaleSayers #AlSilverman #Black&White:StoriesofAmericanLife #CarolAnselment #DonaldB.Gibson #Man,TheManipulator #EverettL.Shostrom #UpFromNigger #DickGregory #JamesR.McGraw https://www.instagram.com/p/CH_J4fFpuwy/?igshid=i69jd4ld3zig

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fromawithlovex · 6 years

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Anxiety

I wish to speak,

But I cannot,

A tightly wound wire

Binds my tongue,

A hangman's rope,

Afflicts my throat,

And the mind replays every wrong doing possible,

Every way

I could fuck up,

Turning slowly

On a loop,

A movie I cannot bear to watch

But am bound,

And cannot break loose,

I watch as my voice speaks another's words,

As my hands spin webs like an intruding curse,

Coming closer and closer,

To the minutes by the hour,

To the moment

I speak and am again faltered,

A kick to the stomach,

A thrash to the brain,

Why would I say that?

How stupid!

How dumb,

What a thought even,

'Oh'

Pathetic exscuse,

Better to be quiet,

Your mind is too loose.

#poetry #poem #poetic #mentally ill #spilledink #spilledwork #spilledwords #poetsonpoetry #anxietyuk #anxietytips #depression #anxiety

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moonlightalways · 4 years

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everybody smiles in this city

a paperboy gives a visual representation of his internal monologue by smiling

because this morning when he woke up, he cycled around, enjoyed the rains and forgot everything for a while

a retired colonel

takes care of his guest pigeons

and smiles when he sees them quarrelling for water

a rigid old man

who hasn't smiled a single time since the loss of his family,

smiles again

because of the preserved postcards,

he once created with his six year old granddaughter

two siblings smile while watching the stuart little together

an artist paints a picture of a turtle and a rabbit befriending on a night full of lightning and scary thunders

a silent boy in the class,

bonds with a pet rabbit, Coldplay, a family of fourteen cats, and Heidi: a four year old baby girl with her goats

this smiling city resides at that corner

of the country of my imaginary world

where no one lives yet everybody smiles.

#poetry #writing @writeworld-blog @writershigh #artist @artistsontumplr @poetsonpoetry @poetsorg

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johnnie-the-poet · 7 years

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youtube

This is a poem written in my youth. I was concerned with how people would dissect my poetry and tear it apart, like they do with Shakespeare.

A Poem A Day Week 4: Poem 27: The Poet

#nationalpoetrymonth2017 #apoemaday #spokenwordpoetry #speakyourtruth #notshakespeare #poetsonpoetry #poemsnotbombs #bethechange

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avoidintellect · 5 years

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1987 + 1996

I see you babygirl

you got some new friends,

the same ones you claim

didnt like you, the ones who chatted shit on your name,

yet still , now yall together , its me that gets the blame,

all of a sudden my irrelevant ass has risen to fame

and its a damn shame

you can’t see this is no way to treat a real ass Queen

But since you wanna lay down and pretend

you can stay with your fake ass friends

you can keep playin this game till the end

you can keep mentionin my name , to them.

the way it all looks, you wouldnt like

You clamin im no good

but have you ever understood

me? Have you ever been there for me?

Or was I passin you by

was I just a convo starter?

Somethin for you and your fake friends to find laughter

in, There’s no happpily ever after

for what you guys want

the foundation you building on isnt strong

Cowards flock, Leaders lead.

You wanna be a sheep so bad!

Its soo damn sad

I figured , I was to real for you babygirl

I figured my voice , my presence was to intense

It makes no mother fuckin sense

You know they fake

and still you seat down there

and wanna see me walk around yall showing fear

bitch ? where?

Who have you got me mistaken for?

All Ill do right now is pray on all fours

Cos, If I pay attention to all the strife

you’re tryna put me through, Ill grab this knife

and It will be all over for you

and that dumb ass lil crew......

#poetry #poetsontumblr #poetsofig #poetsonpoetry #poets on tumblr #symbollic poetry #fake #fake friends #food for thought #fake friends quote #quotes about friends #freindshp #black #poems #freelance #find me

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afreenisnotapoet · 5 years

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My dad genuinely doesn’t like drinking tea in the morning but the thing is that my mum does and just because she wants him to sit with her while she drinks tea, she makes some for him too, dad drinks tea just for her and they both drink tea with biscuits and read the newspaper every single morning. I mean it isn’t something big but it’s almost about the cutest thing I’ve seen my parents do.

-afreen

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afreenisnotapoet · 5 years

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Why she dug up a grave

Poison like letters in one hand, wiping off her defeat from the other,

With every hiccup she tries to suffocate her shrieking a little further,

Her heart aches like someone’s digging it with broken pieces of glass,

Trying to steal whatever is left of her, and bury her six feet under the grass,

Her mother doesn’t know what she does when she locks up her room,

Mommy thinks she’s brewing spells of success to fly away on her broom,

But all she does is pick on the lints on her bedsheet, staring at the ceiling,

Feeling the sting of memories as they roll down her cheeks, taking with them everything but one feeling,

That she wants to keep with herself so that she can put on a play,

A play she’s becoming good at now, she’ll trick all the characters in saying what she wants them to say,

But she sobs at night, holding on to a pillow like it’s her only best friend,

Trying to soak all that she has to say in stanzas that don’t seem to end,

Eyes that are tired, her skin is telling stories only she knows the beginning of,

Stories where she flew too high to be in love with a star shining above,

And sleep doesn’t come to her anymore, dreams aren’t a luxury she can afford,

Walking with her eyes closed thinking it’s a daydream she going toward,

Every conversation leads to more chaos, she should’ve known the hill’s way too steep,

In her days she’s a merry tune, at night her sobs try to sing her to sleep,

Yet they fail, to make her fall to her knees; to succumb to her pain,

But she’s way to good at faking the truth for herself; she’ll do it again and again,

Avoiding conflict just so she can hear herself laugh, to find hope in her eyes so deep,

And if you see her and she’ll laugh like nothings wrong; know that she’s become too good at the secrets she keeps.

-afreen

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afreenisnotapoet · 5 years

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Fix yourself

Could it be worse? You ask yourself every night before you sleep,

You have silent dreams and painful tears is how you weep,

You think that you love too much that it all goes to waste,

You trace your journey trying to find out where your heart got misplaced,

Stuck in a motion all alone, trying to fight a battle with your own beliefs,

High up above, someone is watching over you, seeing you break into pieces she grieves,

The flowers keep on wilting, winter turns to summer but the cold never leaves,

You lost a part of yourself to love and his reckless thieves,

But the lights that guide you still shine bright outside your home,

In different colours and hues, all the ones you love, all of them defining what you’re meant to become,

A new journey begins with every unwanted bridge you burn,

You’ll bring your broken pieces together again, how to fix yourself, a lesson that you’ll learn.

-afreen

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avoidintellect · 4 years

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work

Am I going crazy?

Whats perception when society has deemed you crazy or unwell, can you judge even the simplest thing, could the smallest most natural ways such as breathing, blinking

Am I having a vision as I sit down,

Lost in thought , unaware

nothing here or there

nothing going on in life, not a care

Am I having a vision as I run through my thoughts

or am I running away from my thoughts

as I try not to stumble

fall or fumble

Am I getting better?

You look in my eyes ,

see the reflection is it there?

Or am I dreaming ,

I never have left my house, im here drifting,

#crazy #social perception #life #poetry #prose writing #writersontumblr #writers on tumblr #poetsontumblr #poetsofig #poetsonpoetry #poets on tum #pyschosis #pychotic

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afreenisnotapoet · 5 years

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A feeling not felt

Stories that we want to write but just as we do the ink runs out,

Deep breaths we take suffocating our lungs with every inhale, thinking that’s how you feel alive,

Looking into someone’s eyes, seeing an universe, seeing life and colours unlike something we’ve seen,

Isn’t it lovely? How we live our free lives with a soul just as free as a caged bird,

Never really know what it feels to be loved, sometimes even the warmth of your own spilling blood feels like home,

All alone, tearing apart our dreams from skin to bone,

Making promises to empty lights shining in the sky of wanting to stay for a night or for a thousand years,

Walking a journey to an oasis that really doesn’t exist, searching a million miles for the demons who love,

Broken pieces that were never really meant to be together,

Thinking of dreams that we had, trying to turn a blur into reality but just ending up loosing the grip to hold on.

-afreen

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avoidintellect · 5 years

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16:37pm On a Weds

young blacc queen,

bathed in melanin ,

I see you cuttin

tryna just peep in,

oooh this community

has you believin’

its okay to bleach

forget all the self love speech

that you memorised...

close your eyes

bury your head on ur thighs

crouched up, ina corner

this is the last time...

the last time you said the same thing....

I mean

young queen, this isnt your fault

bathed in melanin

isnt your fault.

society has droved your community

to self hate

only can relate

through social perception....

they smile in your face

and your skintone is mention

as a light joke,

fight your tears, dont let them demons provoke......

#black #black beauty #colorism #poetry on colorism #symbollic #my work #poetsonig #poetsontumblr #poets on tumblr #poets on poetry #poetsonpoetry #melanin #melanin winning #pro blac #work in progress #blacc #young black #woman #girl

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johnnie-the-poet · 7 years

Video

youtube

Words come easy, words come hard. This is a poem about words. Busting through that writers block.

A Poem A Day Week 4: Poem 22: Words

#spokenword #nationalpoetrymonth2017 #queerpoetry #queervoices #speakyourtruth #poetsonpoetry #poemsnotbombs #artisrevolution #videopoetry

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