Influence – 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

Beast Wars

July 16, 2013March 6, 2014Posted in Family, Free WritesTagged Absent Love, BEAST, Children, Dysfunctional Families, Family, Heal the Pain, Influence, Innocence, Jehovah's Witnesses, Karma, Leighrick, Online Writing, Parents, Poetry, ReflectionLeave a comment

Someone tame the madness that came from the belly of this beast.

Unfortunately this Evil is heredity.

Tainted fertilization.

Never to be blamed, but

I never felt a cry so violent.

Never seen love rejected so immediately.

With eyes so dominate.

The beast hides behind the beauty despite her being transparent.

The reflection in the mans mirror, ones crying and ones yelling.

Separate ways but the same intentions.

Darkness with no knowledge of Light.

Future could be bright, but in that household they don’t allow night lights.

So my hands together

Despite my anger.

I take all pleasure in prayer.

In my heart I’m feeling sympathy,

But in my mind currently, I am furious.

Premeditated Living.

Listening may be rare but imitating is surely present.

To hurt the ones you love could only be the devils presence.

That’s Karma at the door, not a Jehovah-Witness…

To be continued…

-Leighrick

Genre Specific

June 5, 2013March 6, 2014Posted in Free Writes, Poetic RenegadeTagged 2 Chainz, California, Genre, Gucci Mane, HipHop, Influence, Leighrick, Make HipHop not Bullshit, Music, Nicki Minaj, Poetry, Rap, Underground MusicLeave a comment

I look left, everyone says I wasn’t right.

I look right, and it seems like there’s nothing left.

I look ahead, the clocks telling me I’m running behind time.

Instead — I looked up this time, and that’s when the light shinned down on me.

Often I want to drop to my knees, and bow my head, but gravity won’t let me know defeat.

I’m graveling

I’m scrabbling.

If this is my brain on drugs.

Killah California is the place to be.

Serve em up something street.

Take ’em underground

In awe holding your breath,

Racing your thoughts to your heart–

All while your body is trying to adjust to resurfacing.

They would never believe.

That these groups of misfits, outkasts, and nerds turned out to be so superb.

That we’re the ones igniting the flames in the core of the earth.

I wonder sometimes, are they really surprised?

Could the ice from the 2 chains really be that bright?

Those fans mustn’t really be too bright.

Wouldn’t have enough light if the sun son’d you, and

I amplified enlightenment through a projector and a mic.

I wish the government would kidnap Waka Flocka, and take him

to sesame street to spend the night.

Gucci down to my juice mane,

That’s that shit I don’t write.

Tho I don’t condone violence

The guns in the beat and my lyrics might.

Old Nigga, Young Money

Skinny Jeans, Thug Life!

Riding through the city bumping Nicki,

I hate my life!

Excuse me.

I was seeking Romans Vengeance.

I must’ve lost it somewhere with the other barbies and bubbles, while I was doing dishes.

To make it simple,

This is what my wish is.

Please make another genre for these characters, so

Hip-Hop can stop being disrespected.

Sincerely,

The Gifted Neglected,

-Leighrick

Chain Music

May 25, 2013March 6, 2014Posted in Dapper Suits, Initations, Poetic RenegadeTagged Amerikkka, Ancestry, Chains, HipHop, Ignorance, Influence, Leighrick, Music, Online Writing, Poetry, Racism, Rap, Rappers, Real Music, Royalty, Slavery, WhipsLeave a comment

Chain so big I c’aint pop my collar,

wouldn’t dare to sell yourself short,

but you’d sell you soul for a dollar.

Its all good tho, cause when they see you,

you gone have a chain so big you c’aint pop yo collar.

However, You see diamonds and I see blood.

You see chains, and I see rope,

so if you can’t hang with the message within the words,

you might want to cut loose, while your ahead.

You see grills, and I see a jaw wired shut,

another American idle, idle of a voice…

See the weight of that chain is not only allowing you to display your foolishness,

but it is weighing you down from what you’ve been destined to be..

Royalty.

See,

They’ve stripped us of all crowns, culture, and language.

Our ancestors have lived with the chains around their neck, wrists, and ankles

for hundreds of years, and sat in a lifetime full of tears,

just for them rust and break free.

Striving to regain our Royalty, but you refuse to be Loyal.

While you see Whips and Chains,

I’m only seeing Whips and Chains,

While I record our Mother’s cries of help, replaying them in my mind,

memorizing every note, reminding myself that this is the fuel to the ambition in my Soul.

You rerecord these songs, and reiterate to the world that your ignorant.

Think Free.

They gather you in groups, and now you’ve become the groupie.

They have that chain around your neck so tight, your unable to pop your collar,

As your trying to signify your dominance, your spiritually dying.

Yet you have fallen like a Domino, according to the set-up.

Chain so big you cant pop your collar.

Now the shades have come off, you’ve turned to me

Looking me in the eye, as they glorify the illumination of the hatred for your brethren.

Upset at me, because I’m free from the chains.

You’ll never be free from behind those bars, until you stop investing in cribs.

You’ll never be rid the scars, if you keep investing in whips.

You keep bragging bout your chain being so big, you c’aint pop your collar,

but you’ll always be at their finger tips…

-Leighrick