Category: Dapper Suits

These are post within various categories. Enjoy !

Operate On Me

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Operate on the patient.

 

It seems she’s lost her patience.

 

The machine’s beeping is slowing down.

 

There is no heart. She seems to need a replacement.

 

An ice sickle lodged in her chest.

 

No wonder she is so still..

 

Remaining non-responsive..

 

She’ll be sent to rehab, she cant recall the feeling.

 

Numb from all previous emotional beatings.

 

She is weary from the world’s revolving, she grabbed the revolver, and turned her back on the world.

 

The Doctors go in for surgery, as she lies unconscious asking God,

 

“Who murdered me?”

“They told me emotions were a bitch, but I didn’t think she ever heard of me!”

 

 

She’s angry.

 

The nurses forgot to stick her with the IV.

Now pain is the only joy she seeks.

 

Four doctors all inside her, trying relocate her heart, but they’re only blind, to what they don’t want to see.

Her heart is there; instead look what its grown to be.

Embodying an igloo — a shelter for the feelings she never learned to release.

 

She never felt capable.

 

Staring down at the table, screaming at the doctors

“Someone Help Me!”.…..”Please!”

 

Her feelings are confusing because ironically agony brings her relief.

 

The world is in the waiting room anticipating her release, with a knife in the back pocket. Aimed at her back, for the next time she attempts to flee.

 

Unfortunately we don’t know which paralyzed her, the world or the doctors operating.

 

However now she is alive and conscience…except without much strength to feel

 

Currently she sits alone rehabilitating her trust.

 

Is insurance overrated?

 

–Leighrick

Gem-In-Eye

Posted in Parenthood, Pieces of PoetryTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

I wrote this exactly 3 years ago 6/10/10 for my little sister when she was a Freshman and I was a Senior in H.S. Once a teammate always family…. On June 10th, 2013 — she turned 18 years old, has gone to prom, graduated high school, and is now going off to college. My…how time flies! I love you Lil Mama!

For Dominique,

When I look in the mirror I see you.
June is the month…twins are the symbol.
You are my kindness when I’m angry.
The smile to my frown.
The understanding of my peculiarity.

The soundtrack of your laughter drowns out all my sorrows,
And if it wasn’t for you, I’d barely be able to look forward to tomorrow.

We favor Big Heads, Small Eyes, Light-Brown Skin, and Deep hearts.

Your are the mini me, from our first conversation I felt you were long lost kin to me.

I look deeper into the mirror and I see more of you.
I see the Gym-In-Eye… And I’ve tried to make some sense of 15 but sometimes I just end up a nickle short.

My twin minus 10…plus 4…equals 14.

The frame for this mirror cannot uphold this much innocence.
I check my outfit and today..I want to wear my heart on my sleeve, so today when everyone reads my shirt it’ll read, “Dominique”

As I put my hand up to touch the mirror…I gaze into the warmth of the brown.
And this I see a Gem-In-[my]Eye.

Last night I dreamed a stork delivered you to the house I call a gym.
Your basket was made of orange leather, your pillow comforts your strength, I unravel your blanket of confidence, and change your diaper because it has absorbed all of your weakness. I dress you with a shirt that reads, “teach me“. Your first steps were you driving, and your first words were good game, and many times I’ve seen you destroy all odds that were against you.

I’ve comforted you when you cried about being in the middle, which is a sign you’ll make it top the top. With your head held high, determination of your heart, the guidance of your mind, and eyes locked on your destination.

But then,I sat with you in the middle of the court, holding you in my arms. I watched you sleep…exhaling your doubts and worries, and inhaling your humility.

Around you is where I can always find the peace in me, and discover a piece of me…You.

I wrote you this poem, so like a mirror when you look into it your able to see me even when I’m not present.
I’ve given you this gift; however, this is not a poem, but a mirror.

So when you look into the words you see your pupils.
And when you look deeper you’ll see your pupils just as I see you when I look through the mirror.

Hopefully when you read this you can hear me laugh when your down, see me dancing the days you’re feeling worn out, and hear me go “Who Cares?” when that special times comes around.

And to end this poem, I take one last look in the mirror, and focus on my eye and every time I do..I’ll see not a diamond, nor a pearl, or a ruby, I just see you my Gem-In-Eye.

Love Always,

–Leighrick

Conscious Dreamin’

Posted in Dapper Suits, Family, Pieces of PoetryTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

I’d be lying if I say I didn’t want to go back.

 

As I’m lying on my back,

An abundance of thoughts are racing through my head, so its hard to stay on track.

It’s December and I’m having dreams of Santa placing me in my fathers lap.

A stork delivering me between my mothers legs.

 

Flashbacks holding my Sisters hands, they’re teaching me how to dance.

 

Walk down stairs to sneak something to eat, and see my brothers red hands.

I’d be lying if I say I didn’t want to go back.

 

 

And as I’m lying on my back,

Numerous thoughts race through my head, so its hard to stay on track.

I see me sitting on the table as my grandmother feeds me.

I wont bite the hand, rather admire the gentleness of them.

Now I’m running across the grass blowing bubbles with my cousins.

There’s an elephant in the room, but won’t nobody say nothing.

 

And as I’m lying on my back,

A plethora of thoughts race through my head, so its hard to stay on track.

Hey ! I’m cruising; riding a bike that won’t take me anywhere.

I remember Grandmas red beans & rice, cabbage, and spaghetti nobody would want to share.

“There’s a hole in my stockings” I said, but she always had an extra pair.

I can still hear Wild Bill calling me the prettiest girl

Opening my eyes during the long prayer

Admiring my nephew as he plays in his mothers hair

Her stomach round my niece is in there.

 

And as I’m lying on my back

An overflow of thoughts race through my head, so its hard to stay on track

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to go back.

When we gathered together and laughed until we shed tears.

Every household had a secret that they didn’t want to share

I keep smiling sitting at the table with no one there.

So I fill in the empty seats with memories.

Now I’m remember this place, and never meant for it to come here.

The real estate I’m on is now a couch I call my home.

 

And as I’m lying on my back

Thoughts are shadowing memories, so it’s hard to place a bet

Who would win this war the guilt or  the hard head

In a room with 4 walls and no ceilings,

No doors, windows, or ladders,

How the fuck do I get out of here?

Everything around me happened so fast, why do I feel like I’m in slow motion?

 

As I’m lying on my back

I pack this bowl and drink this potion.

Who would’ve thought I’d be the sucker for love

I never showed emotion.

But I feel my heart skip a couple beats every time I hold my Grandmothers hand.

I tend to rethink everything I could have done different.

I’m trying to cherish time, but how am I suppose to do that if I cant even get a grasp of it?

 

And as I’m lying on my back,

I never thought it would have come to this.

A point where I can’t even finish this without

adding a couple “What Ifs“, a couple “Maybes”

Thinking — is it best to be myself, or what I am expected to be?

Then I think again

Should I have even wrote this?

Many will read into a misconstrued message.

 

Fuck it tho

 

As I’m lying on my back

I find no reason to lie.

I wish I could go back just to make more memories…..

 

-Leighrick

Honesty’s Amenity

Posted in Pieces of PoetryTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

I’m sitting in my room

Reminiscing back to you

Images pass;

My head was pressed against your chest

partly on your shoulder, curving your neck

I try to clear my thoughts of fear

and let go of the day

How this began,

You whisper my name…

 

Dim red lights between us falling

filling in precious silhouettes, beryl

Beautiful and flowing down upon us

Sparks flying towards us dancing all around us

Evaporate in air

 

But I left before I knew

My future holding you.

All you saw of me-

My heart should speak for me,

But I should understand

that pushing you away-

It craves compassion and

strong arms to hold her.

 

You and me

Orbiting

Paper wings

Fluttering

Ink gold

Sunsets bold

Star filled nights

Deep as Atlantis.

 

Still

A glow surrounding you

The love notes blew

Our wishes to the wind

Come and bring him back again

 

Gentle coral lights between us falling

forming into precious memories, beryl

Beautiful and flowing down upon us

Rays gliding towards us dancing all around us

Vanish in air

 

And I wonder how you felt

-I was fading inside

Opened my eyes

-Felt so bright this whole time I was blind

The room we hadn’t left

You closed the door

behind

-And he wished he could take me away.

 

I left before you waved.

By then it was too late.

I wished on the moon

I’d always remember-

 

You and me

Revolving

Paper wings

Sulking

Amber gold

Heart bold

Star filled nights

Sweet as Fantasia

 

Calm black lights between us falling

forming into precious silhouettes, beryl

Beautiful and raining down on us

Ashes flying towards us dancing all around us

Dissolve in air

 

I look deep inside my eyes in the mirror

and your still there staring back.

I’ve tried, tried to out grow you

Savor just a part of you

and now..

Every thing has gone black…

 

-Leighrick

Genre Specific

Posted in Free Writes, Poetic RenegadeTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

I look left, everyone says I wasn’t right.

I look right, and it seems like there’s nothing left.

I look ahead, the clocks telling me I’m running behind time.

Instead — I looked up this time, and that’s when the light shinned down on me.

Often I want to drop to my knees, and bow my head, but gravity won’t let me know defeat.

I’m graveling

I’m scrabbling.

If this is my brain on drugs.

Killah California is the place to be.

Serve em up something street.

Take ’em underground

In awe holding your breath,

Racing your thoughts to your heart–

All while your body is trying to adjust to resurfacing.

They would never believe.

That these groups of misfits, outkasts, and nerds turned out to be so superb.

That we’re the ones igniting the flames in the core of the earth.

I wonder sometimes, are they really surprised?

Could the ice from the 2 chains really be that bright?

Those fans mustn’t really be too bright.

Wouldn’t have enough light if the sun son’d you, and

I amplified enlightenment through a projector and a mic.

I wish the government would kidnap Waka Flocka, and take him

to sesame street to spend the night.

Gucci down to my juice mane,

That’s that shit I don’t write.

Tho I don’t condone violence

The guns in the beat and my lyrics might.

Old Nigga, Young Money

Skinny Jeans, Thug Life!

Riding through the city bumping Nicki,

I hate my life!

Excuse me.

I was seeking Romans Vengeance.

I must’ve lost it somewhere with the other barbies and bubbles, while I was doing dishes.

To make it simple,

This is what my wish is.

Please make another genre for these characters, so

Hip-Hop can stop being disrespected.

 

Sincerely,

The Gifted Neglected,

 -Leighrick

Writers Block

Posted in Love, Pieces of PoetryTagged , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

I understand the meaning behind writers block.

Personally, I’ve discovered my definition.

 I wrote many poems about you, I don’t have much more to say.

My feelings grew deeper for you, but I feel there’s just more I have to say.

I can no longer write these feelings down, not because they’ve gone away…

This writers block is sending me signs, that it’s there more to what I’m trying to relay.

I have eyes that scream affection, and

Ears that hear your love.

My hearts beating my Soul, because it’s just about ready to erupt.

Instead my mind has captured my tongue.

Still I continually try to write and write; my words get lost in thoughts.

Coincidentally my pens run out of ink, and the led ends in my pencils.

You have filled my notebook.

So I’m left with thinking…

With out the creativity to express it, and a place to write it, the only thing left is for you to hear it.

But I’m scared that feelings are to deep, and my words to weak, but I never done this before…

My writers block has temporarily become a block in front of expressing my feelings.

Because I know I Love You.

-Leighrick

Visual Letter : To Whom It May Concern

Posted in Initations, Life, Pieces of PoetryTagged , , , , , , , , , 2 Comments

Dear Reader,

Shut your eyes to the world, but open them wide for my thoughts.
Stop allowing the background noise to interfere.
Channel my voice.
Read this poem alone.

          I’ve been echoing the same message. I’ve been screaming for someone to catch me as I am falling, and it still hasn’t happened. It’s true what they say, “you are your own worse enemy“. If you feel like your alright now….you’re not.

          I am the best at mental hide-n-go-seek, because I’ve been lost inside my mind for years now. No one has found me and I wonder sometimes if anyone is even looking. Would they know what or who to look for? — I’ve tricked myself, I set a trap and I fell for it. I fell forward into a sea of misunderstandings, and now I’m drowning.
No wonder I Love the beach…

          I have convinced myself I was happy, because Love had found me. Now I feel as though it is a facade and I am witnessing it deteriorating…right-in-front-of-my-face.

          Everyone is acting as enemies, but to their convince they shape up and play for the same team. They yell, curse, presuade, manipulate, downsize, lack faith…What they don’t know is I’ve already beaten them to it. I’ve been doing this to myself all these years, no wonder the real me is hiding.

 

Don’t stop reading yet…

I need someone to vent to.

 

          Writing is all I got, even though people have the ability to read they still don’t understand my lingo. I wonder do you understand my message? When you read this do you see a motion picture taking place in your head? Can you see me stressing, running out of ways to keep my sanity?!

Picture this: Imagine me in a room, locked door, and sealed windows. Laying on an air-mattress, floating in a pool of ink. Forever laying in a bed without the ability to sleep. IM SUPPOSE TO BE HAPPY. Supposedly that’s what everyone wants for me. I don’t see that shit though, their double standards are about as consistent as when the wind blows. I suppose some of a little bit is true.

          I’ll just remain being happy under everyone’s conditions; I dont know how they didnt pick up on it. All my poems are little clues. At least one person picked up on em, but he pushes me away too. Then again I am he, and he is me…so I guess in an essence it’s just me hiding from myself again. I don’t know when he’ll realize that he is my reflection, or that whenever any type of stress is present, we’re both in pain.

          I’ve learned this Love is serious, and every time an obstacle presented its self we got through it. We celebrated, after the 5min party, we retreat back into the darkness. Day light savings, we fall back, so the light doesnt remain long.

          Basically, what the fuck I am trying to say is, my mind is a Jail. I am stuck, no bail. Handcuffed to the bars of my cell, so i turned my phone off. I dont want any visitors.

 

…That’s all I guess, this piece was pretty pointless. I hope my words provided pictures. So when you see me smile, you know its not genuine. These poems are all tears from when I cry..A cry for help, to find myself inside my mind.

          Hopefully when you took this glance throughout my thought process. You got a little glimpse of the lost Candace, and you can tell me where to look next.

–Leighrick