Mirrored Silouhettes [pt2]

I’m falling back but I don’t feel anyone behind me. Im trying break my fall but I’m breaking every other bone in the process.

 

My mind is trying to process these thoughts, separate the good from the bad.

 

Trying to decipher the tears from the smiles. And the confusion from the laughter.

 

Life’s taking:

the Sweetness out my Satisfaction.

the Dreams out of my Sleep.

 

Its safe to say…

I’m lost. I’m misunderstood.

I don’t know what to do

for myself, but

I continuously do for others.

 

I know what I want.

I yearn for what I need.

I am thankful for what I have…maybe I am selfish,

because…THAT’S STILL NOT ENOUGH.

 

I wish people could just read my mind.

The good and the bad thoughts.

I wish people could just see what I see.

The potential and the fuck ups.

 

I just want to find me.

I am surround with people that adore me.

Yet

I haven’t found me and accepted myself for what I see, acknowledging what I want to be,

Go to sleep.

&&

GET THE FUCK OVER IT…..

because its KILLING ME.

 

-Leighrick

Personal Statement

c/o 2010

I sit at my computer. I allow my conscience to marinate some of my best qualities and passions into my fingers — I begin typing. I enable my mind to go through this vigorous hard-laboring pain of molding my love for basketball into words. It is a love compiled of harsh metaphors and unimaginable personifications. Basketball is my poetry; my words wrap the ball like Spalding. Anything I am able to write on is my canvas, and any court, concrete, wooden or rubber I am able to play on. Half a piece of paper cannot stop me from expressing myself, and half of a court will not stop me from playing to my maximum potential. An empty pen and a flat ball will not dictate my future.

One night I dreamed so close to reality, I almost did not wake up. The announcer was calling out my teammates. Maya Angelou was the point guard, because she threw the most creative behind-the-back passes that ignorance could never capture– a true definition of The Heart of a Woman. At shooting guard appeared Alice Walker because her explanation of living as a black woman in America is perfect. She continues to put up shots. Hatred’s hand tries to contest the shot, only to fail and become the reason her eye has turned The Color Purple. As I gazed toward our locker room door I had to blink twice, because through those doors shone The Beloved power forward, Toni Morrison. She was ready to box-out all who would try to annihilate our chance to score, and to restore our rights as a culture. Right after her came Gwendolyn Brooks, the center, helping rebound our “Black Love” when the direction of the love and respect is unpredictable. She is the backbone and the strength of our team’s pride. I stand integrity as the small forward the smallest punctuation being the biggest part of the sentence. I call a huddle at half-court, and we all place our hands in the middle. Five minds, five hearts, five different personalities defined as one team. We all cross-over to a new chapter in the same book of life. The scoreboard buzzes, and I go to grab a last drink before the game resumes; only the last time I blinked, I opened my eyes only to find I was staring blissfully at my ceiling.

Every poet/author in my dream has taught me to be culturally and self aware. In basketball they say “practice makes perfect”, and in writing perfect practice makes an incredible writer.  So in every practice I allow my writing utensil to dribble my emotions across each page with sentences like quick passes, and every stanza is another quarter I’ve given my all. Each time I step onto the court all troubles seem to cease. The ball is a symbol of life. I know that the ball gets passed around to people and sometimes even plagiarized and mistreated. I understand the players in my life may come and go, some people may pass a way, but the lessons they have taught me are still invaluable.

 

-The Graduate
-Leighrick

Harmonized Healing

I laid, staring into the darkness.

Cramped between the shadows

created by the emptiness between the bars,

and coarseness of the walls.

 

I pick up a shard of broken glass,

glance into it,

and ask:

 

Where am I?

 

The deeper I enter into the darkness,

I recollect:

 

Live with the heart, and the mind will follow?

 

Mindless Behavior.

 

We had owned the night —

 

I was Love Drunk,

and was caught drinking and driving.

 

I pulled over,

The officer saw my brain in the back seat and asked,

Why aren’t you in switched positions?

 

I was imprisoned.

 

My heart was my cell mate, and unfortunately

my mind came up short on bail.

 

Within time,

My heart and I got off on good behavior,

we entered a halfway house.

 

Almost there, yet so far to go…

 

I turned my back on the present,

and headed back towards the past,

because it was what I felt closest to.

 

RELAPSE

 

I am on my 3rd strike.

 

I saw the not so distant futures, and headed back, except

my heart was so stubborn it decided to stay behind.

 

Reacquainted with my mind, we set out on a search for my lowly heart.

 

Roaming the streets of memory lane,

we found it —

It laid, left for dead,

beaten and cold.

Rapidly bleeding out hope, it cried for faithfulness.

 

Forgive Me!

 

Left in the state of panic, my body went vacant.

 

Nevertheless

 

My mind blanketed that heart,

and eased the cries, replacing them with trustworthiness.

 

However,

My heart began to shake,

a seizure…caused by the cascade of emotions

 

 

 

But then —

 

The gentle mind kissed the heart,

and beyond the shadow of doubt,

the Soul ascended.

 

She brought diligence to the body,

ceased the misery of the mind,

and revived the heart.

 

For the broken reflection in the mirror had been repaired.

 

 

The Soul smiled brighter than the guidance of the Northern Star,

the Heart blushed warmer than the Sun,

the Mind journeyed out the darkest shadows of space,

and the body became ONE

 

and it was Harmonized.

 

I am comfortable again,

laying in my own bed, lost in my smile…

 

-Leighrick

Sacrifice

Resentment builds,

as does my emotions.

It’s hard not to be mad, when my relaxation continues to drink the poisoned potion.

I never felt pain like this before.

How I’m I suppose to live without knowing the true definition of being alive?

You saw right through my eyes, I didn’t have to say a thing.

Just like you, I get lonely too.

How am I suppose to live without the presence of stability?

You saw straight through my soul, and without you I feel incomplete.

Leave me to dehydrate.

For our Love there’s no limit to sacrificing.

-Leighrick

Good Night to Your Good Morning

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 upon me an suffocated my pillow with my thoughts.

Wrapped with 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 —

Leighrick..we’ve missed you.

-Leighrick

Haleys Comet

Quick Bio: 3 years ago a friend of mine Cheyanne aka “Mariah Haley” was assigned in her Intro to Philosophy class, to describe her philosophy in a poem as her Final. This was to be strictly her opinion, and she came to me in aid of expressing her thoughts into poetry. We ended up collaborating on this philosophical poem, and I hope you all enjoy it.

I believe that through experience we realize, that we create our own reality.

One not founded upon other peoples visions, but through our own day to day experiences.

If we learn to embrace each breath, and rejoice because we’ve have gotten the chance to feel every day, then we will learn that knowledge itself is power.

The power to recreate your world, and at the same time be the survivor in the “big picture”.

In this race against time, to live and to learn, one will always encounter numerous hurdles.

Some are higher than others, and whether you fall or not; what keeps you running is ambition.

What separates our souls is that some looked to be saved, and others look for another alternatives.

If you fall you cannot wait for someone to pick you up, you must get up on your own and dust yourself off.

Ambition is a value embedded in the soul. It is who you are, and like sweat it seeps out from all over your body and overwhelms you with strength.

In order to stimulate that strength we must stand strong in our beliefs, but not ignorant to our mistakes.

Although religion is man-made, our souls are spiritually molded; a connection with a higher power feeds your conscience, and that is how one is able to digest this food for thought.

Look who’s left deserted. What about the living others around us?

Trees and plants provide us the oxygen, which replenishes our lives and animals revitalize our stomachs, but also protect us with and without training..

However, we as humans don’t see each other as equal.

Only the strong survive, but how do you know whose the strongest if everyone is authentic.

Just like the equator individuality is invisible, but it’s wanted across the world.

The planet needs people who take everyday to learn something new, and surround themselves with inspiring dreams because a life without dreaming is not a reality at all.

We have been leaving the truth behind and hiding behind our walls of comfortable lies.

We have become a society so in debt to wealth and power; that we refuse to acknowledge our duty to the planet

Lost in this battle of greed and war, consumed by pollution, it is killing us slowly…

Education that teaches us to climb the corporate ladder instead of to live peacefully with our neighbors.

Our neighbors who are literally next door and physically across the world.

We don’t even realize that we share this planet with everyone, and at the same time, we share the same fate.

Our existence depends on the way we spend every beautiful breath, the way we step and every stride we take.

Even though the footprints we leave behind in the sands on this planet, are washed away…

Life is our choice, we have the power to create something beautiful.

We have the resources to build and live in this web of life.

-Leighrick

 

Photo on 2011-02-25 at 23.26 #5

Her Stories Lock

Her story’s Lock

They call it His-story, but what about her.

We only get a month, even though we were the first to walk this earth.

And ever since I could read, I’ve been blinded by their lies, and deaf to my truths.

How do they expect me to understand, if our story is put in disguise?

We’re still in this race for equality, and I’m damn sure gonna get mine.

And if they’re not giving it up, I’m damn sure gone take it. Before my time is up they will respect my natives.

We may only get a couple of pages towards the end of the book, but they know we were the beginning.

The majority of my education has been raped to keep me away from the knowledge of my ancestors.

We created history, but it’s all because of her.

And maybe him too, but you can’t have a race without two runners that make it.

So every time I put this pen to this paper or these fingers to these keys.

Another story is revealed about the past of these thieves!

-Leighrick