Tag Archives: Thoughtful

Broken Open

Still in a room,
A broken mirror reflects flawless smiles of all those that once stared before it.
Gleaming eyes looking for themselves in fragments of light.
I can’t yet see through.

Walking…
My tears and the street lights create stained glass.
Looking at memories abandoned in pictures, and the pain that is sheltered, buried, and concealed in temples.

Implicitly.

Shattered and now broken open.

I pick up the pieces with the roughest edges first.
I cut myself — countless times.

It hurts not to scream!
As a child you are taught that silence is comforting,
Explicitly a fools gold, a dastardly violence.

The blood has been contaminated with secrecy.
Life’s own mystery;
What good is the knowledge of hystori if the truth never gets told?

Exposed.
Undressing wounds
I see myself in rare form….beautiful….
Vulnerable.

This bigger picture envisioned is actually a puzzle;
we are each others pieces.
There are no borders, filters, nor frames….
Regardless not everyone fits, still you are..

Limitless…

-Leighrick

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Sugar Honey Ice Tea

If loving you is wrong, then I want to be right, cause I heard opposites attract, and I know it’s true because when I was in the dark you were my light. Like iced tea, and batteries. Two negatives only make a positive when they are multiplied, but I’m not ready for children. So until then instead of hearing me, I ask you to listen.
Leighrick

deLIBERATION

Sitting —Scratch that. Laying here thinking. Thinking…Thinking….laying here. Funny how things work out.
Some people believe everything happens for a reason;on the other hand, one action is result of another action. Don’t be fooled by “destiny” or “fate“, people make decisions. They have questions, and often seek answers. I don’t want the answers to those questions anymore.
I’ve made peace with my past, in which a new story unveils….barely setting pen to paper, pages turn themselves.
Laying in awe, in confusion, in….unsurprising disbelief.
I’ve learned not to continue writing the new material in an old book though I may be continuing stories; instead to start a new book. One in which many characters aren’t included, and there is more depth in the questions asked, more wisdom and enlightenment in answers we choose to seek., and the plot thickens.

Science Fiction or Fictionalized Faith.

The Amazing Race?

You’ve been there. I’ve been there. People long to be there, but who wants to leave? People run away from love. People chase love. In essence, it’s all on the same track. Hard to tell who is sprinting and who is fleeing. They’re all chasing it without knowing who’s in front. Whose chasing who and who’s is running away?

Leighrick

Life’s a Beach

I need my place of peace. I need to stare into the ocean and see my reflection. I need run my fingers through the sand, so my heart can convince my mind to release me.I need to see the stars, and shout to my ancestors even if they can’t hear me. I just want them to know that I’m listening. And I want to go there with my pen and my pad and illustrate what I see through words and not images. I just want to lay back with my eyes close and hear the waves whispering.

Leighrick

Image

Black Thought

Heavy hearts are burdens
Broken hearts are cherished.

For love we perish
In love we age.

With black clouded fantasies,
to make believe is valued.

The proof is in the pudding,
Instant truth digesting questions.

More questions than answers
curiosity spreads like cancer.

The sickness of inaccuracy corrodes faith.

Maybe all the rights are wrong
Maybe all the downs are up

May be the reason we think the sky houses souls
When it rains is that them crying, listening to the lies being told?
Watching the future unfold.

A wrinkle in time is a smile perceived as beauty.
Strength mirrors will.

To become or to exist?

Trying is harder than living, but death is defying?

Answering questions with questions, seems to be the only answer.

Leighrick

The Declaration of Inception

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 

Just the Pieces

Drowning out city sorrows with Hip-Hop Blues.

Death comes in 3s,

My regrets come in 2s,

You only get 1 life to live, so

Which one should I choose?

Tapping my feet to the beat,

Bass bruising my drums.

I wish I remembered when this city was dust.

Sand storms instead of smog infiltrated clouds.

This city has my heart,

My roots intertwining with those of the trees.

I see my city; thinking I cannot look past the trash,

Atlas, I see the Art and its production of people.

 I sit back and part the pages in my Notebook.

Jotting down lines that paves ways into memory lanes,

I am consuming pens.

Down to my last two,

Thankfully I’m spared a pencil.

As if living isn’t enough,

Living it to the limit is too much.

If I could sing, I’d write a song

Unfortunately I cant.

All I have are these poems.

Pulling my own weight.

At the same time reaching for the stars,

Living in a World,

Where the leaders are manufacturing sugar-coated lies.

While we’re consuming them, free of charge.

Wondering why our blood cant make it all the way to our hearts.

I have ink in my veins, eyes full of pride.

A heart full of love, soulful cries.

I feel this pain in my chest, in the smokiest skies.

A conscience ahead of the naive,

Who are stuck in lies of the past.

That when they arrive to the present,

Surprise!

My smile is mischievous they tell me.

Only because I know what you don’t see, and see what you disregard.

The sky is soon to be falling, and the ground is now breaking.

Welcome Lost Angelinos,

To the Hell as we know it Home.

We’ve dropped from the Heavens in search of Grape vines.

Instead found bittersweet Cactus’, and the strength in Palm Trees.

Babies Crying.

Men Dying.

Women Trying.

STRIVING.

Constantly admiring the homeless.

While everyone’s stuck in their box,

They keep going.

I’ve never seen anyone fight so hard to live, and be ready to die.

Most times when I walk past them

I tend to swallow my pride.

When I need to ask for a of couple dollars,

Shit, I get mad, Im about ready to cry.

When I see them, if I can I give em mine.

Many are abandoned by Love and by Mind.

Lost the fight to drugs, or did the time for the Crime.

Who am I?

Who are You?

Who could we be together?

These thoughts are just the pieces that made this poem come together.

-Leighrick

Real Life, Still Life

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

WWYD?

What if the joy of yesterday encounters sorrows of tomorrow?

Would you smile because you’ve seen another day, or complain because the smile you had has been borrowed?

Cliche as it may seem, be grateful for what you have.

Many children have never seen the light beyond the womb, and many people only known the comfort in the darkness of a tomb.

What if Doom’s Day was yesterday? and Today Hell froze over.

Would you shed a tear for the lost ones, or bask in the triumph with the other surviving soldiers?

This is a catch-22

You can’t control whether you win or you lose – Life is crazy like that. I saw it killing on the news, I heard it singing in the blues, I could taste it’s celebration in homemade stew.

I’ve held it in my arms, and in the morning I smell it in the dew.

Life proposed these questions, now I am asking them to you.

What Would You Do?

-Leighrick