Tag: Illumination

Dream BIG.

Psalms 91

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This Morning…

This Morning I awoke from a Dream, petrified.

I was sitting in a pew, and was whisked away blindfolded.

This Morning…

This Morning I awoke from that Dream, petrified.

I rose from my slumber, exhausted, confused, and intimidated.

Trying to leave my bed, but it has turned into a swamp.

Drenched in emotions and adrenaline, I drown.

This Afternoon…

This Afternoon I awoke, and gave truth to the meaning :

“Sleep is the cousin of Death”

I took the leap of faith out of my bed, praying that these wooden floors wouldn’t turn to quick sand.

I calm myself.

I make myself breakfast for the first time in weeks,

because my brain was suffering from malnutrition.

Not your cliche Food for thought,

but more like the last taste of food before an execution.

I ate.

Today I woke up with a foreign feeling.

It seemed as though God was making a Long Distance phone call to me,

and some how it got intercepted and misinterpreted,

I disconnected myself for all communication, and left the phone off the hook.

Figuring if I silence all my problems, these alien feelings will go back to their homeland of seclusion,

and leave me the hell alone.

Only,

My dream became real.

This feelings blinded me with the mirror of my reflection, and like a stork,

they carried me in their mouths and delivered me to the doorsteps of my conflict.

The issues that birthed this misguided monstrosity,

looked down on me,

but like a baby I couldn’t comprehend why I have been apprehended from my tranquility,

a place in which I call home.

While present in physicality, yet idle in mind —

The television was no longer poising my mind, but replenishing my conscience.

On this journey to meet the problems that created me,

I discover understanding.

Something so simple as washing the dishes,

gave knowledge that the things most overlooked consume the biggest life lessons.

I stand up and stop kneeling down to these mistakes.

I need to regain balance; as the stork was delivering me back to my dormant mind,

it dropped in me a body of water.

This afternoon….

I awoke leaning up against a wall,

drenched in water, I was cleansing myself of low self-esteem.

As I cleansed my self with a black soaped dove, I felt purity again,

as regret stormed down the drain.

Finished,

The towel, like my love ones soaked up any disbelief of their love for me.

I am clean.

I rest.

For tonight…

Tonight,

The sun is my kiss goodnight.

The birds are my lullaby.

I thought I shut all doors and windows,

but stealthier than the I air breathe,

Insomnia crept up on me and suffocated my pillow with my thoughts.

Wrapped with a blanket of restlessness,

The birds continually ease my soul in to slumber,

and as I fade, the Sun gently kisses my forehead,

My deprivation tucks me in, and I sleep…like a baby,

Until a couple of hours pass, and I wake up again

I look out the window, and the Sun has been screaming —

I am trying to restore the balance in my life; however right now,

Sleep is not Kin to me; therefore, we’ve become unfamiliar faces.

I just wish these thought clouds of anticipation would precipitate patience.

But,

I cannot just sit around under this umbrella, and wait for dreams to come true.

So,

I will reacquaint myself with sleep,

extract love from my dreams,

and deliver myself success

Beautiful Struggle.

Because the truth is, it doesn’t really matter who I used to be.

Its all about who Ive become. 

Next time I will be sure to put my phone on vibrate.

-Leighrick

Inanimate Objects

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My notebook is tapping me on the shoulder asking me to be hugged.

 

The paper screaming at me wanting to indulge in my thoughts.

 

Now my pen is crying to the paper, “I just want to be ouched!“

 

Now my conscience is laughing at me, cause she’s scrambling my thoughts.

 

I’m trippin’ staring at the ceiling…

“Did my brain just fart?“

 

My mind is speaking to me, “Leighrick embrace your Art“

 

Now my feelings “cock-blocking”, cause now I dont even know where to start.

 

I close my eyes and my futures looking back at me like,

“Come on, I could’ve sworn I gave you a head-start“

 

I am chasing my future in my dreams

 “Boy is this odd“

 

Now sit back and finish reading, acknowledge me…

 

“Damn, now that’s ART.”

 

–Leighrick

Daily Dream

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I’m sitting on the steps, blazing with the breeze

Clouds blending with the blue sky, fragrance you can see.

Eyes sitting lower than depression on its knees.

Mix the greens in the bowl, that’s healthy choice by me

Thoughts more vivid than High Definition.

Lames thinking they’re Wiz Kids, put up false images…smoke screens.

Stomach growling like a bear, but all the food I am dismissing.

My imagination’s hungry, and Leighricks creativity looks fixing.

Aroma sweet like swishers, after a Kobe Bryant shot.

I took the safety off, jump the gun

Spontaneity =  the Death of Bordem.

I kiss the ground I walk on, so I kiss my mother goodbye.

Strap myself into my spaceship, ready to take flight…

I’m soaring past the planets, lighting up with the sun.

Playing with the aliens, hide-n-go-seek in the clouds.

Cruising through the solar system,

Munching on a Milkyway…

Fell asleep counting stars on a satellite.

I open my eyes and I’m,

sitting on the steps, blazing with the breeze

Clouds blending with the blue sky, fragrance you could see.

Eyes sitting lower than depression on its knees.

Others wish my dreams were their reality, a Day & Night Dream.

This dream is day-to-day

I call this a Daily Dream….same dream different day.

 

-Leighrick

Morning Thoughts & Night Dreams

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Morning Thoughts & Night Dreams

 

Things just aren’t the same, it’s not what it use to be.

We aren’t who we use to be, we did something that changed us.

 

 

Now the reality is too harsh to deal with, but life is all about balance…right?

I guess I have to find compatibility in these tribulations.

I make sure I don’t keep my head down and dwell, I just look up and ask for guidance.

 

 

Scared the past will become the present,

Which is a gift I’d rather not receive.

 

I know history repeats itself, so I begin preparation for battle.

This cold war in a vacant heart, it’s difficult to declare the winner.

I keep paper in my back pocket, my pen behind my ear, and a mind that never stops racing.

 

I slow down my breathing so I can hear.

 

Who’s that peaking in my library?

I know my life’s an open book, but you can’t rewrite history.

We all have pages we want rip out, or would much rather revise.

Your autobiography has already been published.

 

Who’s that laughing in my library?

This is private, you shouldn’t be here!

 

 

So,

I’m out of breathe chasing my enemy.

Chasing the thought that I actually had friends that weren’t kin to me.

 

 

This isn’t the textbook stuff

It’s the shit they don’t want you to read.

 

 

Oppressors suffocating themselves with self esteem; while the oppressed live blissfully.

Finding the fineness in the shiniest aesthetics.

 

 

But I’m trynna to be the change I want to see.

 

Therefore,

 

I prepare myself for this battle.

 

This battle.

This battle.

This battle is

 

World War Me.

 

-Leighrick

When Dreams Become Reality

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When Dreams Become Reality

 

This evening…

I found my imagination in the back of my mind.

I’m feeling remorse;  I should have listened to my conscience.

My creativity was knocking on my temple.

Tylenol, shut it up…

Now my hearts paying for it.

I closed my eyes, covered my ears, and listened to my soul cry.

 

I traveled my  medulla oblongata.

I flinch. My dreams turned into nightmares.

I see my imagination lay wasted thin like water.

Fuck!

Paralyzed mind.

My conscience has become the new Cesar.

 

I look left and my creativity has overdosed on refer.

I look right at the nightmares beating my dreams.

I look behind me, and my conscience shaking.

I can no longer witness this.

I look ahead and my imagination is dead.

 

Insanity has sunk in.

 

This is absent Schizophrenia.

I don’t know who I am.

Because of this is Bipolarity;

I can’t choose a feeling!

 

Living poison.

My words are tainted.

My tongue is numb.

My heart is ignorant.

Have I gone blind?

 

Am I jeopardizing my own purity?!

 

Pen to my head.

Placing notebook paper down to surround myself.

I’m making my bed.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder; I’m terrified by making a mess.

 

Leighrick is whispering in my ear,” Chaotic just go through with it“.

 

How did she know that about me?

Who told her my first name?

 

“I can’t do this anymore!”

I don’t know what I’m saying.

 

My history is spilling out my closet.

My conscience turned the lights on.

I look left and right forgetting I’m blind.

I stop and listen..

FUCK!

I hear myself dying!

 

Jumping out the bed; I vomit.

I feel around for my inspiration; turns out that’s what filled the sink!

I vomit again.

Except when I flushed the toilet, along with the rejection went my dreams.

 

I leave the red lit room.

Trying to feel my way back;

The walls disintegrate around me.

 

I collapse on my bed.

Place the pen in my hand.

If I’m already dying inside, who’ll appreciate  what’s left?

Beauty is within, but so is deception.

 

Chaotic is talking to me, “Don’t do it Leighrick“.

Leighrick is yelling at me, “Wait, I thought I was Candace?!”

Candace is screaming to both of them, “I’m going through with this. I don’t know who I am!!”

 

Leighrick says, “You’re Chaotic”

Chaotic says, “You’re Candace”

Candace says, “Shut the fuck up! Fuck! I’m losing it!!”

 

I lay upon my bed of paper.

With a red pillow behind my head.

I want to disguise the blood; for whomever may find me.

They won’t be freaked out when realizing I’m dead.

 

I put the pen to my head.

“Pop…”

Goes the trigger.

 

Ink consumes my body.

My soul is released.

 

The next morning there’s knockin’ on my door.

The knocks go unanswered…their whispers fade,

“shhh, we should just let her sleep.”

 

The poet lays at peace.

 

Just in case you didn’t notice, I committed homicide with the piece.

 

Next time you’ll know not to judge, but

Instead to stop to let the poet speak.

 

Sincerely,

That Chaotic, Leighrickal, Young Lady C.

 

When dreams become reality
When dreams become reality

For My Brothers, For My Family

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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

The Declaration of Inception

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They know I’ll never give up,

instead they’re coming for my dreams.

Dream Killers on the hunt for me.

I stay fighting,

while your thinking it’s amusing I don’t sleep.

Insomnia’s no hobby.

I’m praying asking to be looked over,

it happens some days, but honestly

some days being grateful slips to the back mind.

Along with other thoughts, I care not to bring to the light.

I’ve only experienced 20 years of being Human,

but that’s easily forgotten, many have been given much less time to comprehend.

Who knows, they could’ve had bigger dreams than mine before permanently being laid to rest.

Either way I’m learning by living.

Their Hate,

Serenading my ambition.

Sending bombs to no mans lands,

A part of my mind that shouldn’t have be penetrated.

With an annex to my heart, and a well to the pit of my soul.

I stand guard at the pinnacle.

Pens cocked like assault riffles, verbal grenades, bazooka mics, and adjectives shaped like pocket knives.

Leighrick, Poetic Renegade.

I am protecting my aspirations,

acquiring strength through the trails & tribulations.

Cant close my eyes, but

at the same time

I’m trying to secure my visions.

Its already challenging to handle the taunts of temptation.

Mirages of freedom, a depleted cold world,

The sun keeps my heart warm, and I’m not thirsty yet.

I’m just trying to [be]Live my dreams, but

if they’re on a steady hunt to shoot em down —

then….shit,

I gotta make My Dreams, My Reality.

 

–Leighrick