Tag Archives: Future

The Miseducation of the misunderstood

The Miseducation of the misunderstood

Harbors overwhelming anxiety

Which creates layers underneath the shell

Always home like 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

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 that you will actually 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

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Tomorrow Morrows, Today’s Present

I love you like tomorrow

Longing for you to come around, but unsure its worth it

There’s this lingering mystery, but really everyday turns out to be the same.

I want you to keep me up at night, because you can’t wait to see me.

I love you like tomorrow, tho there are times you treat me like yesterday.

I see a future with you, but

I’m so worried you won’t stay…

-Leighrick

Coroner on the Corner

This one here is for
The little boy in the corner,
The little boy on the corner,
The little boy in the coroner,

The man in the mirror is
some bodies little boy, somebodies little boy.

Crying shame,
Try Finding strength.
Crying bullets, not in range, but enraged.
No tears at all, because no bodies there to catch them
Nobody is here to listen.

Foreign to intuition.
Imperiled by institutions.

You said you had my back, but them you caught me with a knife.

This one here is for
The little boy in the corner,
The little boy on the corner,
The little boy in the coroner,

The man in the mirror is
some bodies little boy, somebodies little boy.

Idle body.
Absent mind.
Hidden in the darkness.
Played follow the leader and was misguided.

This is for you kid!

All through life you grow up hearing,
“Don’t do anything stupid”
But in every experience you obtain knowledge.

Lend them your soles to walk in, so
They may feel the exhaustion, and
Be aware of the mileage.
Only look back to see how far you’ve come, then
Keep moving forward.

This one here is for
The little boy in the corner,
The little boy on the corner,
The little boy in the coroner,

The man in the mirror is
some bodies little boy, somebodies little boy.

Life seemed so simple, when you use to play with toys
Now some of these toys make a much different noise.
That can take time away in the form of lives.
That cannot be reborn, because this is not a video game.

A spectator let loose in a playas game..

This one here if for
The little boy who needs his mamas kiss,
The little boy who needs his fathers attention.
The little boy who yearns for love and affection.

From the cradle to the grave

Pour out a little liquor, keep swallowing the pain.

this little boy looking in the mirror trying to teach himself to be a man.
How to withstand the loneliness by himself, looking for a shoulder to lean on.
The ridicule of the free man telling him to jump, but he knows
Deep inside he hasn’t felt his wings growin’.

Be in control of emotions.
Retain focus.
Push yourself and you may be able to help someone else,
Keep going.

Life is a test of your patience and gratefulness.

King your time will come.
Build your empire with wisdom
Your heart of gold will make your bloodline rich.

This one here is for
The little boy in the corner,
The little boy on the corner,
The little boy in the coroner,

The man in the mirror is
some bodies little boy, somebodies little boy.

All the tears you accumulated are meant to,
Get you through the hardships.
Establish relationships.
Discover true friendship.
Your battleship is sacred.

This one here is for
The little boy in the corner,
The little boy on the corner,
The little boy in the coroner,

The man in the mirror is
some bodies little boy, somebodies little boy.

Smiling.

til Kingdom-come.

-Leighrick

Rain Again

The clouds crowd around the sun, like moths to a bright light. This hue of blue turned grey. I guess there really are 50 shades. Even tho it’s dismal outside, I’ll still wear my shades. You can stare,but you can’t see past the glass. The rain starts to fall, yet the drops are graceful. I use to hate this, until I witnessed a tree smile. Showering me all while sheltering me, this feeling can only be a mother’s unconditional love. Now i dance in the rain instead of slump with my head down, sometimes the sun gets jealous. The clouds begin to part, the sun wants all the shine. Like the stars, the ones we can follow along the red velvet to see on display. The real stars are smart and stay out of reach, but occasionally they shoot trying to catch our dreams,and put motion to our wishes. The reflection of the oceans, I can’t swim but I can fly. I’m just learning how land, It’s not as easy as taking flight. The air here is thin, but crisp. I bask in the softness of the clouds, and let melodies of the sun rays whisper sweet nothings of silence. Interrupting my tranquility is a parade — I predict it will rain again tomorrow.

-Leighrick

Slice of Life

Slice of Life

As a toddler I use to wonder if the birds could hear my thoughts.
That the dew on the grass was from trees crying, because they felt lonely.
Watching the sun set ablaze these cotton polluted skies.
The moon arrives.
With the slight waves of a breeze, kissing my skin.
Transporting chills through backward columns.
Lips against the pavement;
What I witnessed was not specific to any hue.
My silver lining was love, in the shadow of a larger portrait.

Eye got my I’s peeled
Fixated —
Inspiration.
Intimacy.
Illumination.

I’ve got my eyes peeled.
Wide open.
Inhaling every color.
Recreating Space.

I am the vanished piece
to the puzzle, peace.
Everyone grab a slice.

Don’t be afraid to feel.
Don’t be afraid of the way you feel.

My words may not suffice my thoughts.

Opening my heart parallel with mine eyes.
Uncovered, Unblocked, Unlocked,
Expanding.

Absolute knowledge may intimidate circumstantial courage.
Not frightened by falling, because
I can’t get much lower than understanding.
The wisdom eye seek – deep-seated – [and] overlooked.

The pupil.

Ink is my blood, and I can’t help but leave a trace.
On every canvas —
I’d donate my smile to those with a frown.
Paint murals on sidewalks for those whom walk with their heads down.

Dreams are notes of my existence; which is not a fantasy, because I never sleep.
Visual conversations with my conscience.

I couldn’t fit all my faults in to San Andres, so
the thought of accountability, continues to shake up the world.
The pebbles cast resemble the magnitude of that in a bird pond.

Skipping.

Seeking peace through beats and rhymes.
Eyes fixated –
Insight.
Vigilant.

Gazing souls wander – gawking at redemption.

I remember feeling lost.
Realizing this is the beginning, and scared when it may end.
I never forgot how to pretend.
The make believe, made me believe,
The fates delivered the coup de grâce, at any moment.

With every breath.

I have my eyes peeled on what is coming around the corner.
Kin to Slumber, Grandchild to time, an accomplice of the sandman.

Rubbing eyes,
Crossing t’s.
Decoding p’s and q’s

I want to connect every continent like water.
Leaving no trail to follow, but
enough inspiration to create your own.

I am trying to enhance my view.
Honesty isn’t always as flirtatious poetry.
Occasionally submissive to empathy.

Trying to emulate an open book.
I lay here a diary waiting to be broken open.
Longing for someone to tease & taunt death, because
They know if they ever read it, I’d spread threats with rumors.
Only to have my words tell the story, there are always three sides
Yours, Mines, and the truth.

I never told them I could write,
I never told them they taught me how.
I told myself never to tell them what this really is about.

I’ve got my eyes peeled.
Wide open.
Inhaling every color.
Recreating Space.

I am the vanished piece
to the puzzle, peace.
Everyone grab a slice.

Leighrick

Break Fast & Read Slow

Break Fast & Read Slow.
This morning I sit contemplating, scrummaging through synonyms and personifications. I take a stab at exercising mediation and writing being in sync.
Once upon a time I believed that communication in relationships [i.e Family, Intimate, Friends ,etc] was farfetched. Telling one person, let alone the world how I feel? Never!That is…until I picked up a pen, maybe it was a pencil, or maybe I was sitting at the computer abusing it with my bead eyes and frolicking fingers.
Since then I have been pursing creative writing. First – I wrote with intentions of beefing up my confidence, but more importantly I found an outlet. The feeling is natural, as I began to simmer down writing became a healthier alternative for expressing myself, and the way I feel.
I have dissected every syllable and ingested every doubt. Collecting memories like recipes, and holding them close like secrets.
No longer do I believe that I am restricted to pain, sadness, tearful joy, trauma, warm love, oppression, heartbreak, etc to produce a gem. The pressure has ceased, and all these ingredients are just that.
As appetizing as it reads – surely it does not define the divine Goddess I am.
So currently I am marinating in this process of enlightenment. Soaking up the pungent frustration and tart effortlessness. I am the author of [my] cookbook; is your mind malnourished? How about some dessert for thought, the sweetest tasting intellect served on a platinum incrusted paper plate.
Thus allowing you to savor every simile, break down every syllable, and extract every nutrient from my light, and let the imagery melt in your hand and mouth, this is what love tastes like.

Bon Appétit !,
Vigilant Leighrick, Poetic Renegade.

Who Needs Sleep?

Instead of sleeping I think.
Conversing with my Conscience.
rekindling memories and setting ablaze doubts.
I am the smile and the frown, together
Shaping beauty.
Jaded compliments, opening old wounds
Tho deceptive as the skin may be,
The density of my bones, upholds a heavy spirit.
A paradox.
It beams light, and eases darkness.
Breaching the infrastructure of this tale, it’s growing
Rooted so far down the sky becomes the ground, and
My solar plexus houses the blueprints of galaxies.
Invisible to looking eyes.
Tap into the 3rd frequency, and see
Wisdom is heard in the whispers.
Instead of sleeping I think.
Imagining my own colors,
Sanding a frame of sizable impression for masterpieces.
Empathy is kept safe in the right atrium’s, saving what’s left for the ventricles.
I found love on a two way street,
Sitting at the crossroads.
Lotus Pose.
Unlocking the gift to
Be.
Willing…
Knowingly….
Instead of sleeping, I think.

-Leighrick