Expression – PROCLAMATION TRANSFORMATION

Have Mercy

January 15, 2019December 23, 2020Posted in Pieces of PoetryTagged Art, Beauty, Emotions, Expression, Faith, Feelings, Growth, Heal the Pain, Honesty, Inspiration, Leighrick, Love, Mental Health, Online Writing, Pain, Poet, Poetry, Reality, Realization, Realtionships, Reflection, Relationships, Spoken Word, Unconditional Love, Vigilant Leighrick, WritingLeave a comment

I contemplate suicide but you feeling guilty is what keeps me alive

I don’t want to point fingers or call names

It’s love that keeps me alive and I would never regret feeling this way.

Purpose for what it’s worth is expensive

Dignity is a rich mans trash

Endurance is treasure to the wanders

Wondering what exists in the darkness

They call space

The space

Vacuuming and consuming

Nobody sees the ugly parts of galaxies

Aliens are make believe

You are the furthest thing from perfect

The flaws are what make it worth it

Floss until you get under the surface

Rediscovering the left over pieces of your heart

You hid when you were a kid.

Squeeze those feelings

Caress those fears

Kiss the blemishes everyone told you not to pop

Now they are scars but to your face they call them beauty marks

They’re moles

Informants of the soul

The map telling your thoughts to your heart

Only to realize you’ve struck gold.

Dirty

Earthly

Have mercy

On the ones who think they are beyond hurting

No fucks left to give but reciting every fuckme

Fuck my life

But if anyone asks

Shit isn’t so bad

When you think about your life without considering your past

Make it last

Make it fast

But don’t come too soon

This little light of mine

Ain’t so bright with out the

sun or the moon.

-Leighrick

The Miseducation of the misunderstood

May 26, 2018August 28, 2020Posted in Free Writes, Life, Pieces of Poetry, Transitional PiecesTagged Art, Consciousness, Creative Writing, Death, Depression, Emotions, Expression, Faith, Fear, Feelings, Food for Thought, Freedom, Future, Growth, Heal the Pain, Honesty, Illumination, Individuality, Influence, Inner Self, Insomnia, Knowledge, Leighrick, Life, Love, Mental Health, Online Writing, Pain, Passion, Peace, Poet, Poetry, Questions, Reality, Realization, Reflection, Self-Love, Soul, Spiritual Journey, Spoken Word, Strength, Trust, Truth, Unconditional Love, Unity, Vigilant Leighrick, Wisdom, WritingLeave a comment

The Miseducation of the misunderstood harbors overwhelming anxiety; which creates layers underneath the shell.

Always home like a tortoise, but I am a nomad in my own body.

The feeling of loneliness sets in every time one of my personalities decide to leave.

I am wandering

Invested in a venture that is company to misery.

I declare communicative bankruptcy.

Do me the service of sending all my messages, subliminally. This misinterpreted status will be one for the books.

Face it —

Who are we without the royalties in freedom of speech?

Too many unwritten rights you have, that wasn’t taught to me.

Do you know me?

Do I know you?

How valuable is identity to a thief? The only benefit in this hijacking is the doubt you will finally understand that…

I volunteered, but I never asked.

Never raised my hand in class.

So many questions that still need an answer

So many answers that should be questions.

What will be the solution?

It seems I’m the problem.

I am a weapon – non lethal

A dangerous mind shooting stars

Trynna reach the moon, cause I was told that’s as far as love can go.

I am a victim of time!

Trapped behind the bars in the same cage the bird sung.

Those melodies still linger.

The ink blots begin to show.

I think it’s bleeding through!

I use to dream in cursive until…

Murder she wrote.

Now it’s killing me softly.

The standard is to understand

The extreme is to overstep.

The Miseducation of the misunderstood can’t be taught only felt.

-Leighrick

Broken Pedestals

November 19, 2015Posted in Family, Free Writes, Initations, Pieces of Poetry, Transitional PiecesTagged Absent Love, Art, Balance, Consciousness, Dysfunctional Families, Emotions, Expression, Family, Feelings, Free Spirits, Freedom, Freedom Portals, Goddess, Grandmother, Growth, Heal the Pain, Healing, Individuality, Influence, Inspiration, Justice, Leighrick, Life, life after death, Life Journey, Light, Lost Children, Love, Motivation, Museum, Online Writing, Peace, Poetry, Poetry in Motion, Positive Energy, Realization, Reflection, Renegade, Sacrifice, Self-Love, Solar Plexus, Soul Poet, Spirit, Spiritual Journey, Spoken Word, Strength, Unconditional Love, Visionary, Wings, Wisdom, WritingLeave a comment

Don’t lose sight of the light.
I close both my eyes, but
Leave the third one open-wide.
Absorbing and Transforming,
Life is a canvas already been painted on; which color will you use to highlight the accents?
How many ways can I contrast the madness?
We are often too busy adding structure to the broken pedestals that once seated those you placed highly.
Deceived if depth can’t be seen without views of the horizon.
Still can’t hear me yelling – only seeing me naked.
This one really speaks to me…
Eye can’t teach them to listen.
Splatter paint like emotion wherever I go.
The world is my canvas. I create in the shadows.
Wash that mask, under that mask, beneath the skin.
Peel the flesh back like old pages.
This book is blank just like the canvas.
Invisible ink disguised as experience.
Squeeze the color out my veins, and witness the light ooze through pores.
Decorating the pews they are glued to.
Stained with the truth not illustrated on the glass.
Looking out the window is living in the past.
Breaking that window is living.
I’m breaking my silence how trees uproot sidewalks.
I belong in the street.
Driving myself crazy, playing hide-n-go-seek with self-identity.
Don’t be lazy.
Chasing my tears to the waterfall of my dreams.
Flowing…
Now I’m glowing..
I stay woke.

-Leighrick

Writers Block

June 5, 2013March 6, 2014Posted in Love, Pieces of PoetryTagged Affection, Critical Thinking, Expression, Falling in Love, Leighrick, Love, Online Writing, Poetry, Writers Block1 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

The High Life

April 16, 2013March 6, 2014Posted in Family, Pieces of PoetryTagged Distance, Expression, Family, Leighrick, Love, Parents, Poetry, Punishment, Silence, StruggleLeave a comment

Lately, it’s been feeling like we’re torn apart. Why there’s such distance? That’s a question that’s weighing heavy on my heart.

I have some things to say; only I struggle with where to start.

I see your wounds, and I want to heal those scars.

I want to hear the adventure in your stories, until I discover who you are.

I feel your love when I’m missing; wondering where am I going.

What you don’t know is that I’m going to forget names, and forget shames.

And when I go, I leave my feelings at the door.

It’s hard for me to remember the last time you smiled at me; truthfully, I think that’s what hurts the most.

Just because you speak affectionate words, doesn’t mean you have faithful thoughts.

Tonight it kind of hit me while I was praying I would make it to 21 —

It took 40 oz to consult me.

You said you were concerned about me; that’s when I knew I had to — up and leave.

Sitting in the passenger side thinking to myself, “Why am I still struggling?”

Seems to me the lesson learned is that we all make mistakes.

Yes, I can explain why my eyes are so low, red, and glossy.

It’s because I want a real hug.

Your silence is punishment.

Excuse me.

Signed Seventh,

-Leighrick