Tag: Poetry

Unfinished Eulogy

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Lights off.

Candles burning.

Eyes closed.

Heart hurting.

I find no condolences in loneliness.

My bed is comforting, but there’s too much space.

As my pillows lend their shoulders to me, I plead my case.

I plead the 5th.

Well…this 5th I got in my hand.

Minus about 3 oz,

so you can add whatever left

of this 8th..

I just want something to draw a smile from me, without misery being written all over my face.

His name permanently engraved,

We’re hangin’ on a thread,

I guess symbolically this chain, and I tend to notice its

been lingering to left side,

where the melancholy is the strongest..

With these words, Ive built sentences

and with these sentences, Ive filled notebooks.

A literary chest to store these memories

being ready to be put at rest, but

within these notebooks,

I have written a thousand drafts of Eulogies,

but have never finished one.

Its like being 3 1/2 feet deep

negotiating with Satan,

because Ive already been to Hell and back

trying to attain some truth and knowledge behind, Real Love.

But

the other half of me

is being cradled by God,

In a dream, but it seems nothing less than real.

I’m not gonna lie some nights I contemplate it.

Life without him has been a Broadway play, without the music.

So much potential yet so much pressure, enough to make someone lose it.

And I did,

within the “it”

I lost “I”

So really…

I’m still looking for the two of us.

Phantoms of you appear seldom,

only because I know you’ll never be here,

but its my Guilty Pleasure.

Still —

I am here…

Lights off.

Candles burning.

Eyes closed.

Heart yearning, but Mind careful.

I am Sorry tho,

I had to get that off my chest,

My whole thing is, I am afraid.

There’s no other place my heart would be,

than on my sleeve, for all to see, cause….

there’s no doubt

I still love him.

-Leighrick

Masterpiece

Posted in Birth, Pieces of PoetryTagged , , , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

Paint the face of peace.

 

White out the traces of hatred.

 

Highlight respect.

 

Sing songs of intellect

 

Plaster over the discouragement of humility.

 

Dance to the rhythm of equality

 

Recognize the facade.

 

Don’t act creativity – live it.

 

Pasting together actions creating history

 

Write the motivation of the movement

 

Photograph the mirror of the future- YOU(th).

 

Play the instruments of demonstration.

 

Let the vibrations travel through souls uplifting unity in all.

 

Speak Love.

 

Draw lines of tolerance…

 

Sculpt minds of awareness…molding our revolution.

 

There is no price on art – art is ones soul.

 

They say money makes the world go round, but the buck stops here. How much do you cost?…plus tax.

 

–Leighrick

Daily Dream

Posted in Illumination, Thoughtful BlurbsTagged , , , , , , , 2 Comments

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

Homecoming

Posted in Pieces of Poetry, The Great CrossingTagged , , , , , , Leave a comment

The Day I Die,

Every sidewalk will talk,

and all the trees will dance,

the wind will stop to listen.

 

When I die,

My mother will re-embrace me,

because I am back home with her.

She will flood the ocean with her tears of rejoice.

 

 

Because,

 

On the die I die,

the streets where every secret is toxic

will finally come clean,

and express its unconditional love for me.

 

The birds will sing me lullaby’s

to put my soul at ease.

As I rest peacefully in the warmth

of my mother bosom.

 

On the day I die,

is the day I will give back.

Apologize for certain mishaps, and slips,

but certainly the disrespect.

 

The clouds will part

to make way for my entrance,

and —

at night,

the moon

will be illuminating grotesquely,

symbolizing my spirit.

 

The day before,

I could smell the birds of paradise,

with an aroma so strong,

they screamed loud enough for me to wake up,

and realize…

 

—

 

The day I die,

I will be home.

 

-Leighrick

Investigate and Replenish

Posted in Free Writes, Pieces of Poetry, Thoughtful BlurbsTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

This is the First 48.

No Sleep until I reach Law & Order

CSI my mind…who tried to ruin it?

The Closer I get…the further they hide.

MASTERMIND.

True criminal stories.

Label me another Public Enemy.

Case Closed.

The Shield is impenetrable .

Within in the First 48 …

Catch me if you can !

Im thinking OUTSIDE the box

Neither will Wii play stationary to Life.

Music is their facade,

but that mask is universal.

Only the notes this song bird tweets lets Freedom Ring.

Unravel the public ego, and bundle yourself into the natures.

Caress your mind, and realize..

You can’t only be poisoned unconsciously.

So please remember x marks the spot, think outside the box.

Wii need to understand our daily dose of vitamins shouldn’t be T & V.

WEAPONS OF MASS DISTRACTION.

-Leighrick

Dragon Days

Posted in Pieces of PoetryTagged , , , , , , , , 2 Comments

My heart loves you more than my mind is allowing myself. The deeper I fall, the less fear.
My heart beats to a different rhythm; too excited it skips it’s beats. Overwhelmed with emotions, I hiccup on my thoughts. I am Hungry. Yearning to devour your heart, you so sweetly catered to me in the palms of your hand. A closed mouth won’t get fed. Sealed lips hold my words captive, bruised ribs protect my own heart, it’s tender. My full mind aches unspeakable curiosity.

King, defeat the dragon!

I feel – as though my hearts burning in the fury of my own fire. The desire, your optical liquidation quenches my thirst. My own tears drown me within the approaching tomorrow; I am impatient. Will your way into the ability to read my mind, when the cat has my tongue. Allow me to lounge in your clothes, and walk in my shoes –  dig your heel into the sole, and my reacquaint me with my own. This sleep deprivation has me writing too revealing. Can it be possible that my words need rest?

 -Leighrick

The Knowledge of an Alcoholic Junkie

Posted in Dapper Suits, Love, Pieces of PoetryTagged , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

 

I feel as though I hit rock bottom in a bottomless pit.

 A Junkie on a mission; I’m just trynna get a hit.

 Rewinding life encounters,

 she took real offense to that “Fuck You” and that “Bitch“.

 I wasn’t naming calling…

I was just trynna understand a lil bit.

Just trying to figure out if these people here for me legit [?]

 

Wondering, am I really just a number…”7” to be specific.

 

It’s like

 I’m digging a whole with no shovel.

An Alcoholic on a mission, man I’m just trying to get a 5th.

 

I feel like he never really answered any of my prayers…

 Or maybe I’m just overlooking his gifts [?]

 

Just trying to figure out, why her and not me?

 Why him and not ole boy?

Why them and not my people that’s been trying so hard?

  

Jealousy is a trait.

Humility is with which I will be buried

&&

Life cannot be hurried.

 

I’m just saying though…I’m just going through it.

 

 Feel like I’m walking on thin ice, with cracks all through it.

 Just another Life-o-holic trynna get my head in some books, just to get my fix.

 Make knowledge into some real cool shit.

 

 I don’t really think y’all understand me, this is an addiction

 I don’t think I’ll ever be able to quit.

 

 I’m just…

an artist with vision and a pen, putting use to my instruments.

 

I’m just…Im just really going through it.

 

Just a junkie with a 5th, who called life a “Bitch“;

regrets it and is now on a mission towards knowledge.

 

Psshh…and Y’all are STILL left CLUELESS.

 

-Leighrick