Express
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I have a hostageBack away, do what I sayOr come clean up a bloody stageThis ain’t no animeThis here is a 12 gaugeIt ain’t blasphemeIt’s reality without a backstageI am here, with myself
Darkness and isloation
the only two things I ever used to know
mind your business
hold your head down
don't let anyone know you are here
you exist
you take up space
but that doesn't matter
My body holds a universe
An entire universe
There's constant creation
Constant disturbance
Somedays there's more mass
Somedays there's more energy
Some things swallowed by blackholes
Poetry is my escape.
Kind of like my outlet from the world.
Sometimes when I can’t express the way I’m feeling.
I connect with poetry, to release the issues that have been bothering me.
It takes me back to when I was young,
Bold.
Fearless, and told to
“Rub some dirt in it,”
Before being fit into a mold
And told
That this is what life is.
Preparing for Battle
It guards my heart and mind as it has stood the test of time.
When you fantasize of that caress and places its never been
shiver at thoughts of hearing warm words you've never heard
ectasy you've never experienced
only to come down and realize you're your own surprise,
Behind the filter I am Sylvia.
Behind the likes and "thumbs up" I am Lucy.
Before the mascara I am a daughter.
Named by my free spirited parents'
Name sake of shimmering light in the forest.
Rendezvous with the MoonMy Moon.Conquer me. Devour me. Rip me to shreds.Come pour your radiance through my window,Come crawl in my bed.Come toy with my emotions,Come play with my head.
My experience with love is
painful
unforgettable
betrayal
Eight months making
memories
moments
music
Proving people wrong with clashing
thoughts
personalities
I am not the one who can walk into a room and be the center of attention
I am not the one who will be voted as prom queen
I am not the one who was born with a silver spoon
I am not the one who is seemingly perfect
The feeling at hand brings on trouble and issues that I cannot stand
It changes my plans and unfortunately, I cannot fuflll its demands
I cannot grasp or understand, but I am only aware of how I'm in a jam
Dejection,
No affection.
Depression,
No expression.
Happiness?
No. Not anymore.
No more blessedness.
No more galore.
Why do I still love.
Why do I still trust.
Screeching
Scratching
Goes the door
Latching its
Latch through
The floor
The pitching
So cruel
To my ears
After all
These years
The door
Still leers
The release of my emotions,
The movement of my soul,
The language of my heart,
Dance.
There are no limitations,
no expecations,
but only beautiful improvisations.
Let go, to feel
An empty casket appears before me
I cast my eyes upon the hapless victim
This man is my own self
There are no mourners attending this funeraul
Because the man is technically not even dead
Love is a question mark that hangs above my head,
It is like a butterfly that takes the risk of being dead,
Love can be the root to many other emotions,
Like despair which is as treacherous as all of the oceans.
i'm a leaf being blown across the highway.
A rag doll being thrown to the side.
i'm controlled by my surroundings.
i',m dependent of what others have in mind,
There's a girl I knew
Who wore a curtain over her face
That blurred the person underneath
And stole her precious personality
She lived on cloud 9
In a house made of broken hearts
Emotions overwhelm my soul as I experience life.
Over time I store my emotions in a jar,
And ever so slowly, I feel the glass starting to crack,
Suddenly, the bottle shatters, forcefully pushing my emotions into the open.
My voice, the smallest in the crowd full of no one.
My voice does it tell you who i am what i go through?
Or just tell you what i need to say at that time.
My voice can you tell its me, is it really me.
Emotions
So hard to express;
Feelings
So hard to share;
Thoughts
lost in between
what is and what can be.
Communicate
what is kept inside;
Express
what lies buried deep;
kicking dust as i move ahead, instead
of getting down and dirty. i could, but
i’m more of an insider as you can see
these sounds; the synergy
of cooperation and contemplation
Be yourself
Dont let anyone tell you cant be
Express, love and smile
Thats my style
Pink, green, red and blue
Let out all your emotions with color that are inside of you
Before, I had nothing.
An empty bottle of ink; no quill.
Endless. White. Space.
Before, I was silent.
a pin cushion to prick.
a bag to punch.
no sound, just space.
Before, my emotions hurt.
Throughout elementary school, poetry was just another thing to read.
I didn't like it at first, it was a tedious deed.
Back then, I was and even still am a shy child.
A quiet one, who's imagination was and still is wild.
Little and unknowing, as a girl I would pick up what I didn't yet understand
The meaning so lost to new eyes
I want it
Time flies, the pen is now in my control, the paper my clay to mold
I stand as a shadow among millions of face, my voice is silenced by the echoing river of voices a like. "break free from the drowning"; I scream from the inside, then one day from a blank page, the worlds ears became my canvas.
For the words that don’t come easy
The emotions that cease thee.
I am alone but am I?
Because when this pen hits this paper I fly.
No one can understand me better,
Than the words that flood this paper.
Smile Ashley!
Sit there and look pretty.
Only speak when you're spoken to.
Show each of them respect,
And God knows I did.
My heads pounding the more I smile.
In words, there is feeling
Love, Lust, and Hate
Despise, Passion, Adoration
We feel all these things, in association
With Words.
When words are released, feelings
She missed the day he smiled
All that it reviled was an innocent child
The regrets of the child started to fade
Her heart was cut witha blade
The blood of a sweet, but soft serenade
Grin at the fact that this page is my shrine.
Where I write what I feel,
It's more than surreal.
It's fact. Written down just like that.
With the snap of my fingers.
Does the impact linger?
Everyone dreams of growing up
With memories of when you drank from a sippy cup
Places you've dreamed of going
Expressing yourself because you're already glowing
I want to be free
People may say
I write because I am a citizen who has her rights to speak her mind,
To be able to say what spoken words cannot comprehend.
I write to give advice to the teens who don't have someone to confied into,
The beat and lyrics that I always hear
Makes the poet inside me wanna appear
Incomparable beauty like the Santa Monica pier
Addictive like when my dead cousin swallowed the beer
I feel my soul running free with the windChill down my spineGoosebumps on my skinI am free, feeling alive as if everything I lived for was never a lieSo I cry feeling no doubt about to flyFly sky high
my passions and dreams are what leads me today,
it's my dear mother that makes me stay.
her nagging and doubts pains me to keep,
but my heart burns a fire that comes in deep.
my passion to dance and sing and act,
I ride the express way because it is the only way I know.
I sit on a bench full of euphoric hearsay's.
All the while holding on to the steel pole that is my heart
I write in this old composition notebook... pouring heart and mind into the pages
Letting the pen do the talking that I can't bring myself to say
Freeing the spirits trapped inside me, weighing me down
I never thought much of my poems
The silly little things I would scribble in my notebook during class
While my Calc teacher would give me numbers to ponder
My mind would always stray to words
Every time I look around
I see you and me
Standing tall and proud
This Country the land of the free and home of the brave
Soldiers fight day and night, so we can be free
Where else where you rather be
-I live a new life now, its with Christ now, no matter how my background went down, my intent now is to live alright now, the wrongs that i write down, insight to fight the wrong so they live right now, im talking right now, im talking bout the ki
Sometimes, things are bad for me,
age has nothing to do
emotions are real, very real.
strong enough to guide me to the bathroom
where I sit contemplating the very nerve of my exsistance.
I don't need to live.
Don't do it because I need to Don't do it because I suppose to I do it because I want to Writing is a passion; No type of skill; No type of fashion Its a style; A style to speak truth A reality check for some of our youth It drives us kind of craz
Writing is about the fluidity you have as a writer,
as a storyteller. You have to pick and choose the words
you use. Craft them to your will.
Make them paint a picture.
Poetry is a very pure form of
She lies awake at night
The ceiling her best friend
Her thoughts race in fright
At no point do they end
She's never sure about what she sees
Always wondering if her head is playing tricks
I was introduced to poetry at a young age
it seemed to soothe me when I was in a rage
it helped me get through those tough days
it helps me explain rather than sorrow in pain
(
Fear rules my desires
Scared to love and to feel,
To put my soul in a bind.
Let me throw these thoughts in the fire
And watch them turn into ashes.
The world we live in today is like a big game of follow the leader
Everyone wants to portray the things that they seeon T.V.
Me?
Well I just want to be me
Just because the rapper in the video has money an cars
Poetry, defines me,
Literary work in which special intensity,
Is given to the expression of feelings and ideaology,
Who knew the Poets Me,
Poetry, defines me,
A way to see clearly,
Poetry is the new way of life
And culture is now the virtue
It speaks for those who cannot speak
Hypothetically
But typically
It targets the ones who perfom to a specific beat.
Poetry is love
I was lost
But now I am found
I was weak
But now I am strong
I never knew who "me" was
Until I found "me" written all over my notebooks
Written all over me.
I write poetry.
Poetry is emotion.
Poetry is honest.
Poetry is simple.
A place i can be myself.
I write poetry to be free.
To express myself in ways talking can't.
Why do i write?
To let people know the pain that swirls in my heart
Because my enemies like to be mean, the reason for my pain, my start
Why do i write?
Because no one ever hears my voice in a crowded space
Ever had a night terror that festers your mind, captivates your thoughts and completely blows your mind?
I write to relinquish these dreams.
As a slave to suffering, pain and sorrow,
I write to forget, until tomorrow.
A quiet child with nothing to say
As Mommy and Daddy were going in separate ways.
Caught in between with her big sister.
A child a little too young to have a stony heart.
Show me your story
But dont use words, dont speak.
Let the novel be written
And make it expressive!
Your frustrations, tribulations.
We want to see, not just me, everybody.
Poetry is no hobby.It is no leisure; no pastime.For these would implythat the choice was mineto thread with such absurd carethese words which are laidupon my metered heart.
I write,
Because my hands are spider webs of words
That need to be weaved on paper
Like an artists’ paint
Needs to be swirled around the canvas.
I write because someone
Out there
Needs to know
A pen to paper.
That's all it takes for the words to flow.
That pen, as it hits the paper,
brings a sigh of relief.
My heart over whelmed with emotions,
My mind flooded with thoughts.
I didn't know how to voice them,
So behind my lips words were constantly fought.
Tried to voice these emotions in so many ways,
What whisper though the field lily
and lilac hush twixt Spring and Summer
am I to listen to?
And will it hear me too?
Poetry found me
when I had just
become a teen.
Before then I
had loved to
write but
that was just
short stories
Bursting at the seams with soul
Limitless, feverish in its cage
The carnal, vigorous life untold
Impossible to assuage.
That Life we Live
We don't live the life of boredom
We are free, we are birds
We are always on the move
seeing new things, & new things seeing us..
Standing there alone with no one I can speak to.
Standing there alone, with nowhere to receive any advices.
They think I'm strong as God and smart as Frankenstein, but whoa they are wrong.
It's what they do
For others
To express
To voice
To show
For myself
To be heard
To organize
To find
I'm shutting down
What else am I to do?
Till you come around
Till then I'll wait for you
So broken
How I feel inside
words unspoken
All these feelings denied
