Category: Dapper Suits

These are post within various categories. Enjoy !

The Last Time

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Last time I saw you, I saw me.  Lately I’ve been looking in the mirror, and this caged bird is now free. Freedom slips my mind; sometimes I sing a little off key. Overcoming stage fright–hit the lights please. I want them to see my message by reason darkness.

What they thinking are nightmares, just a city girls dreams. This empathy has this piece I’m writing mirroring me. A victim of split personality. Trying to divide the thoughts and subtract the feelings.

Bring upon Confusion…

When I see you again, finally I feel empty like the glass you left me with, that I threw against the wall. Except when it hit the ground it didn’t break, but out spilled every memory.

Can you feel what I feel, when I feel what I’m feeling? You shouldn’t because I’m numb. Selfishly selfless; although I never cared for any other than myself. What should i have done? I was helpless!

The next time I saw you, I saw me swimming in my tears, a shellfish. Beyond this course exterior, I am a jewel waiting to be made a necklace.

Then I remembered that I forgot. Recuperating flesh wounds with internal bleeding; often I find myself hiding in my feelings. I forgot that I remember.

So the next time I saw him– posture immaculate, a smile moonlit in a dim mind, eyes seductive, with his arms wide. He thrust his hands upon my hips, and squeezed me until his spirit made my soul cry.

Now I can’t even fathom what you look like.

-Leighrick

For My Brothers, For My Family

Posted in Dapper Suits, Family, Illumination, Initations, Life, Pieces of Poetry, Transitional PiecesTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Hollow tips enter full bodies, and empty them.

As the bullet rips the flesh, it’s also stripping the body from the soul.

The victim has passed; not only in presence, but through papers as another statistic.

The consequences of a coward,

we have to live with, walk these very same streets.

His mind has been brainwashed. They’ve purposely left out all the coloreds.

Holding the steal he feels like Iron-man, but without it he is weak.

Pulling that trigger is as easy as taking candy from a baby, but

does this coward know he just took this baby away from his mom.

My ego is fierce with poise full of culture.

I am tired of living through the peephole fighting not to be another victim of hatred.

I am tired of stray bullets finding a home within our own children.

Bullets may not have names on them, but they take innocence of the ones they enter.

I am tired of looking over my shoulder, because I have a permanent crook in my neck to go along with the knifes in my back.

Eyes follow me down the street.

Am I a crook because Im wearing my hood on my head? –Its cold

Am I a crook because I’m carrying candy? — I have a little sibling at home.

am I a crook because I’m holding a drink? — I am thirsty?

OR

Am I a crook because of the color of my skin?

The difference is they wear hoods that  cover their heads.

You can still see their color, but  that they may hide their faces in consciousness of shame.

Lacking Color…

A Color?

A “Color” everyone can see past except for them, because they still got that damn sheet over their heads.

I had a dream last night.

I marched to the most immense Bell with my hoodie on, and Granted justice for all Kings, Queens, & Martins.

I was tackled to the ground and handcuffed.

I would be easier to handle.

I didnt just get married, I am not a child (though someones), nor do I have one.

Everyone took a shot, but we’re taking the bullets for their

“Self Defense”.

Tell me — Do they call it self defense because we are strong, and will not helplessly tolerate oppression?

Before you pull the trigger; do you even second guess it?

Is there  really so much hate that you become absent-minded?

Because of their loathing lack of souls,

Everyday I am reminded of the death of My Brothers.

Hughes, Dunbar, Walker, Angelou, Giovanni, Baldwin, Brooks, El-Shabazz, Shakur

They came to me and requested I speak for the people.

They sat me down, I listened, and though they only spoke to me in poetry I gained an inner-standing of each and every stanza they’ve written.

Having me stand tall with my head up.

They woke me up in my dream, God woke me up this morning, but I came alive in this poem.

Oscar Grant, I stand strong for my brother.

Sean Bell, I stand strong for my brother.

Trayvon Martin, I stand strong for my brother.

 I Stand Strong for My Family.

I hope they hear my prayers while comforting each other, realizing they are not alone.

How long will it take for their families to heal?…

Until they’re all called home?

Murder is theft, and if these killer aren’t convicted of one, how about the other?

 —

Instead of pouring this libation on the floor out of respect,

I’ll drink it because they didnt have the chance to.

Better, I will share the candy with our family; who didn’t have a chance to see them come home.

Unable tell them once last time they loved them.

I AM GRANT.

I AM BELL.

I AM MARTIN.

Beaten though Kings & Queens, and still

I AM JUSTICE,

I AM LOVE,

 – I AM Vigilant Leighrick, Poetic Renegade

Beauty Doesn’t Sleep

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With this silver bladed tongue

I am cutting through diamonds and tarnishing gold.

Watch my tongue unfold, I am spitting hollow tips.

With grip that pierces flesh and grabs onto your spirit.

I wont let go;

As long as I have hold of your soul, you’re going to hear it —

My voice that is.

Try to silence me and my eyes shoot beams like Cyclops

I’m focusing.

I can hear a feather drop,

When I’m not listening to my self breathe.

 

This dish is best served cold on a silver platter

Grab your silver spoon and eat this truth until your belly aches;

Your shitting the bricks that built your home

Real estate.

 

A great debater, but I am no competition for Washington.

I’m spending my training days writing not riding.

There’s no insured survival, but I’m not shy about taking risks.

 

Fist in the air pumping up the power and the volume.

The 808s break my heart and my eardrums too.

Kaboom!

Smoke clouds fill the room.

This dramatic entrance has a certain aroma,

appearing before me I’m unsure if its the Virgin,

Or Jane playing tricks on me.

No no this Grimm

You fear death; on the other hand

I wrap the belt around my neck like a tie.

 

Contusions deep enough to leave my body paralyzed.

The only thing I fill, are the lines on the paper.

 

She got game tho, seemingly Jesus when the clock winds down.

 

I approach the mic with un-calming nervousness,

as if I am standing at the pulpit asking to be reborn again.

 

Sleeping like an infant by the hours,

I wake up.

There are ghetto birds outside my window.

 

I spit on the mirrors of narcissist, now they see a bit clearer.

 

 -Leighrick

Black Thought

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Heavy hearts are burdens
Broken hearts are cherished.

For love we perish
In love we age.

With black clouded fantasies,
to make believe is valued.

The proof is in the pudding,
Instant truth digesting questions.

More questions than answers
curiosity spreads like cancer.

The sickness of inaccuracy corrodes faith.

Maybe all the rights are wrong
Maybe all the downs are up

May be the reason we think the sky houses souls
When it rains is that them crying, listening to the lies being told?
Watching the future unfold.

A wrinkle in time is a smile perceived as beauty.
Strength mirrors will.

To become or to exist?

Trying is harder than living, but death is defying?

Answering questions with questions, seems to be the only answer.

–Leighrick

Puzzle Love

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Puzzle Love

The rock doesn’t mean a thing.

Nor the piece of paper

Or even a last name.

I know my pain will be washed away like the smell off of bed sheets.

I know the only tears I’ll cry further are from happiness and laughter.

I look forward to each day, because I’ll know well be together. And I’m sorry for the understatement but I’ll love you until forever.

Im no longer worried, because it’s you I see when I look in the mirror.

I’ve been trying to find me for so long, I almost gave up.

Weird,

but your kind of like a shadow, always a couple steps ahead of me.

Howl at the moon.

Shout at the sunset.

Fight with time,

it always seems to be moving slowly.

But occasionally.

The moon talks back to me.

The sun relaxes me.

Time is of essence so anytime with you completes me.

Natures now screaming at me, theres no longer a reason to stress.

Co-pilot on my spaceship.

No one sees me but you, I’m Alien. Immigrated love..If I could give you the world.

I’d spin it a couple of times just so gravity could grab me, and marinate me into space.

Until.

I come down from this high float down to cloud 9 lay by your side.

And as we lay –

Grab the sun and hand it to you,

because in such a dark world

your smile deserves to shine.

Fuck a boy.

I gotta man who would catch me if I fall.

No longer feeling misunderstood,

I remind him of pokemon.

He feels my thoughts, sees my feelings, heals my soul, warms my heart… he’s capturing all of me no matter the condition !

I wrote this poem for you baby.

Feel my words caressing your heart.

Hear me walking in your head,

we’ve come too far for me to feel lost.

All the hurdles popping up, I swear we training for a marathon

In true love the smallest distance is too great, and the greatest distance can be bridged.

But I got you and you got me.

Together Screaming “FUCK” whoever doubts our love.

Let your heart be my canvas.

My words are the paint.

My voice is the brush.

The eyes are the artist.

Picasso of my thoughts.

Erykah Badu of his actions.

Baby,

Baby

we’re free!

The angels are your brothers spread your wings.

I’ll bring out my halo.

Hear the harps playing from above the sweetest songs.

Listen babe, the heavens are playing our theme song.

We’re blessed with each other,

Formula for tranquility

So.

The ring doesn’t mean a thing

Nor the piece of paper

Or even a last name.

Our love would still remain the same and grow stronger. Strategical hearts.

The missing piece to each others puzzle.

Your the reason my heart beats again, my ice age is over.

–Leighrick

Image

Motion Pictures

Posted in Free Writes, Pieces of PoetryTagged , , , , , Leave a comment

I’m stuck in between writers block and a ticking clock; there’s not enough minutes in an hour to cherish a day.

My eyes stay glued to the pages, that’s how I stay awake. I sit up in my bed and contemplate. The second I close my eyes, I lose 4 hours out the next day.

No breaks.

I’m speeding on the train, trying to beat late to work. They say you work hard then you play, but I sweat a little more on the playground because that’s my job day to day. When night creeps around, Im waiting for the sandman with my A.K.

A

Pen also known as my artillery. I’m breaking and entering in the memory bank of my own mind, Trying to ditch the reoccurring visions of what I thought was love at first sight. It took one night, to lose sight of who I was. So Ive experienced being blind.

That’s may be the reason when I recite these lines I have to close my eyes. I feel a pain in my chest, like I overdosed. Instead I keep going line after line after line. And realize that pain is only that feeling of wanting you when I coming down.

From this high. I’m sorry. My hearts a bit tender. Im soaring trying to catch up with my pride, whose trying to catch up with my ego, whos chasing after my mind.

See its not the fame I want; I want the audience inclined. I’m satisfied with being well known. They haven’t yet gotten the message, I’m ahead of my time, but behind.

I live in the moment. If my piece doesnt make your heart skip a beat, I dont own it.

 -Leighrick

My Love is a Bottomless Pit

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You don’t want to fall in love with someone like me.

I’ll love you like no other,

a different level from a mother,

more loyal than a brother, and

more caring than a sister.

I will roll with you till wheels fall off, and

fly with you until my wings no longer flap.

If I was the only one in high spirits,

I’d be caring you on my back.

I’ll reveal you to a part of yourself

you’ve never seen, but

have always known was there, yet

no one believed.

I mean, sense I’m being honest,

I’ll love you even when you don’t love me.

If you were losing sight,

I’d give you my eyes.

Then you will see that real lies within me.

Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and now you see the real me,

skin deep.

You don’t want to fall in love with me,

If you happen to, I’ll be sure to keep a couple of band-aids handy,

in case you scrape a knee.

I am too faithful.

I know how to forgive.

I’ll enlighten you when if ever you are uneducated.

Pick you up when your at your lowest, then

slap the shit out you and tell you to, “Keep Going”

I care too much.

I let you breathe.

Make you laugh when you’re crying,

I’m all you want and all you need…

But,

Don’t fall in love with me.

I’m told I’m a heart maker.

Revitalizing love making meaningful lust.

Trust Me.

You don’t want to fall in love

with me.

I don’t seem to learn my lessons.

I resurrect hearts and they break mine.

Only love me if you can teach me how to hate at the same time.

The only person I hate is myself for equipping these hearts to break mine.

Conclusively,

don’t love me because then…

you’ll never stop falling.

-Leighrick