Individuality – PROCLAMATION TRANSFORMATION

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

Everything is Black

March 10, 2018Posted in Pieces of PoetryTagged Abuse, Alcoholism, Depression, Growth, Heal the Pain, Health, Individuality, Influence, Inner Self, Leighrick, Life, Mental Health, Motivation, Online Writing, Pain, Poet, Poetry, Realization, Self-Love, Spiritual Journey, Spoken Word, Vigilant LeighrickLeave a comment

Everything is black —

I can’t remember much

Just the touch of the Angels that’s helping me up.

Looking at my stiffened body is chilling.

As I

Throw my head back – the smoke has me ascending.

Deep breathes spread the embers that keep my soul lit.

I wander

I find myself walking towards the light with a regrettable peacefulness.

The roots have been spoiled with magic and shaded by myths.

Is this a test?

A trust testament of my growth or just the repercussions of my actions.

I am at a loss for words, incomplete sentences like ad-libs.

I am wondering.

Searching for the nouns like symbols and the beats of adjectives like mad-lib.

I am running.

Racing my shadow like I’ve rescued my inner child.

Now we’re crying so hysterically it turns into laughter.

And then…

Everything is black.

-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

Take Me to Your Future

March 12, 2013March 6, 2014Posted in Illumination, Pieces of PoetryTagged Food for Thought, Forgiving, Future, Illumination, Individuality, Judgment, Leighrick, Poetry, Power, Self-Love, Spiritual Journey, WealthLeave a comment

My mind is racing. My shoulders are heavy from the burdens I carry from the past.

Memories are forever, there is no altering longevity.

Currently I find myself tip-toeing backwards while the future is whispering, “come to me“.

I have to be all I can be, except I find myself at delinquencies doorstep.

Throwing boulders through glass; unfortunately this is my dream house.

Who dared to arouse these feelings of superiority?

Mistakenly believing I control my fate, and can wooo it in to falling in love with destiny.

My days are challenged by just waking up, ironically I refuse to lay down.

Often when I think there’s nothing left to say, I tend to repeat myself.

The same message, with some different words, and a similar rhythm to a piece you may have heard.

—

Understand

You don’t have to listen to me, like my style, or quote every line;

However,

I do ask that you feel apart of what I write, because I rather not use my hands to touch you.

I’d much rather let my words set in place for the feast your will devour.

Served with sweet dreams, soulful auras , a breast sided with pieces of my heart, and a wholesome mind — all catered to you on a silver platter.

While you’re asking questions, like

“what’s that pink matter?”

“what’s the grey matter?”

Answering your questions with my curiosity.

“Why does color even exist?”

Blessings in disguise.

Would there be judgements if we weren’t aware of the color of wealth?

Would the word savage exist?

Once I was asked, “What is Power?”

I balled up my fist and raised my arm. I am Power in it’s fullest existence.

You can seek my name in a dictionary, but you would fail at discovering a definition.

No image is worthy enough to moderately depict this.

This being the reason I create masterpieces with writing instruments.

Judgements are endlessly passed. I’m intrigued by the witnesses.

Every prosecution plead to the 5th.

In life every one makes mistakes — I’m just tired of defending it.

What is “It” ?

It is who I am, what I want, and how I plan to become accomplished .

Tho when I do,

Forgiving will be the death of me because Forgetting is despair.

-Leighrick

Real Life, Still Life

March 9, 2013July 30, 2020Posted in Birth, Dapper Suits, Pieces of PoetryTagged Art, Growth, Individuality, Judgment, Leighrick, Life, Masterpiece, Portrait, Realization, Spiritual Journey, ThoughtfulLeave a comment

Do you ever feel like your art is a person?

Every time I write a piece, I’m painting a self portrait. In the present tense or even as the third person. On the outside looking in — the pain your emerged in.

Hearing a song you never wrote like the artist is someone you grew up with. The happiness you told all your secrets to, but the sadness is holding you hostage.

I always wonder why people try to bargain with death. Its wins eventually, until there’s no one left. Selling dreams of living in clouds, Eternal luxury with no evidence; living for a better tomorrow. That promise isn’t kept.

I live like today is my last, often that’s why it seems I only care about my self.

Who am I kidding?!

I care for everyone else. My heart is a clinic, get in if you fit in, no matter the health. Sympathies nursing sorrows. Empathy injecting psychedelic morrows. Where do I go when I need love? I pull out a cool J and fill my chest like I’m getting lung transplants tomorrow.

When I’m chasing my breath, the loneliness is easier to swallow. Why does everyone want to be understood? Judgment is the mass a murderer. How could you even point your finger at my chest when you’ve never felt my soles?

Non-believers. For whom I hope on Christmas all get coal. I pack pens like heat, cause this world gets cold. Equipped qith a paper machete. Just because you scream “F– The World!” Doesn’t make you bold.

Dark minds, I meditate inhaling white lights to shine upon the spirits journey through my mind. Trying to apprehend my thoughts from the graps of confusion. There’s a hole in my mind, I guess that’s where all the memories go.

A missing piece. Trying to find a peace of mind, so if I don’t remember you, don’t be offended. That’s just called letting go…

—

I’m feeling more attached by a cord an some earphones. I’ve know you all my life and look how far we’ve grown, Apart.

This may be the start to a natural disaster. I put the yield sign up, and you chose to keep going. I put up some emotional roadblocks across, but you ignored the caution stories and crossed the lines. Now we’ve come to a complete stop. Feel our foundation shaking beneath us. Is this my fault because I didn’t stunt my growth? I didn’t stop the towing? I came to a fork in the road, it said “You Left ” & “Life Right”.

What else was I suppose to do besides keep going?

This piece can keep going. I’ve only finished the eyes. Those are the windows to peek through if you really want to know me.

But — I’ll finish this Self portrait later. I just wanted to paint the picture, so you could get the point of view as to why I’m struggling growing. And I bet by the time I finish this masterpiece, you still won’t be able to recognize the Real Me.

–Leighrick