Is it me? Is it real?
The feelings that I feel…
never seem to match 
the world around me.

What if I’m lost in time,
wrapped up in some sublime 
cosmic poet’s next attempt 
at melancholy?

I don’t ever feel at home,
most times would rather be alone. 
I’m broken, yeah I know
cuz I don’t change things. 

Maybe I’m just out of place,
running long in the wrong race,
or maybe I’m no go...

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This sonnet addresses the irony of calling someone "coloured," highlighting the contrast between black skin, which remains constant, and white skin, which changes with emotional or physical states. This poem reflects on how the colour of one's skin can shift depending on circumstances, challenging the societal labels that define people by their appearance.

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Donald Trump’s political persona is viewed through the lens of Niccolò Machiavelli’s 12 principles from The Prince. It delves into Trump’s use of manipulation, adaptability, and perception to solidify his power, aligning with Machiavelli’s emphasis on the importance of cunning and seizing opportunities. While Trump exemplifies the Machiavellian "new prince" who rises through personal success rathe...

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The Weight of Negativity unveils the profound psychological truths behind humanity's bias towards negative experiences, thoughts, and impressions. Rooted in evolutionary survival mechanisms, this piece hopefully explores how our minds magnify fears, criticism, and catastrophes while overshadowing acts of kindness, peace, and progress. By dissecting the "negativity effect," the work tries to offer ...

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You cannot change the way a person thinks, feels, or does

If it’s been the same throughout their lives

Without any disruptions or interruptions

From those in their surroundings

It's impossible to inspire change in those who feel

Entitled, empowered, or those who are enthralled in their ego

Or the ones that don't feel enlightened

By the magnitude of an end result

You cannot ...

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I am more than my sexuality. My job. My pleasure. My image.

I am my past

my future, my lessons,

my life, my heart, my fears.

My skin aches to be loved and my eyes to be seen,

my ears to be heard,

and me

.. me... ME... to be seen.

My passion, is not simply created and finished between my legs,

between my thighs,

but flows within my body like glitter in the wind.

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My face, screaming in silence.

Unable to contain myself, unable to hide

What's inside

Muscles forming without consent

Ripping through my flesh in dismay

Stop

They say

Look at yourself

Again, again, again, today.

For my emotions cannot be silenced

My insides demand, demand, demand

To be released 

Stop, they scream at me

Do you know how hard it is to be around

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This morning, I played an old record
- the one you always turned off
Just to hear the music with my own ears
It had as much dust
As all the mornings I didn't listen to it
Because your ears didn't want to

Last night I wore that dress, the one you don't like
Just to see how it suits me
- through my own eyes
And when you saw me 

you told me I was beautiful

 

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It is going to come
 as some surprise
To those who think
 that I am wise

But I hardly know
 what's right to do
And I've probably done
 far less than you

I'm nothing much
 make nothing different
I'm usually stuck
 so much for wisdom

It makes me sad
 to fall so short
Not what I hoped
 I'd be at all.

But this is not
 the final me
I can be more
 than what I've been

And in...

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I am the real deal, and so are you.
But what is the real deal?

Is it all of the cards we're given
Or the purpose of absolutely everything?
Or is it the sum of both?

We are the real deal
And we are finding out what that is.
 

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Just for a moment think.
Just for a moment dream.
What if this world were different,
If it isn’t as it seems?

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From the spirit to the soul
From the soul to the heart 
From the heart to the brain 
From the brain to the throat

From the throat to the mouth
From one mouth to the next
From one language to another

Through the experiences
The perceptions
The assumptions
And the emotions of each listener
Changing

The original message
Is ever and forever
Lost in translation

And only if only
...

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There is greater evil in this world,
And greater good, than we ever perceive.
There is far more wrong, and far more right,
Than we ever believe.

There is only ourselves out there,
And whatever we imagine.
There is just our self to turn to,
To retain our balance.

It isn't what we meet in life
But how we choose to meet it.
It isn't what turns out in life
But what we do about it.

Th...

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'Mirror mirror on the wall,
Who is the ugliest of them all'.
Hearing the answer gotten so sad,
For the looks of it, he was not so bad.
Seeing himself ugly in every face,
But it was just his perception not the case.
Thinking of this day and night,
Forgetting the beauty was not in the face but inside.

Again giving himself a chance, he gathered courage.
Asking one more question, like a sag...

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He bows at her body, thankful and polite, acknowledges the service, plays the part.

She smiles at stories, smart enough to be cynical but hopeful enough to be happy. 

He takes out a notepad and pretends not to watch for a reaction 

As she reads his silver words

As she reads his mind through the blunt tool of his silver words.

He runs. 

He thinks he’s wrong because she told h...

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As we sat

over coffee

she said

                she liked

                the blue

                of the wall

I could see a shade of green

                in the blue

The next table

                agreed blue

but

understood

me

                too.

We called it

Mermaid Blue

I wondered if that lady

                at the next ta...

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I languish in lack
Abound in absence
And my visage 
Reflects yours
If anything at all.
Imitation is flattery,
Say those 
Who know nothing
Of either.
Perhaps,
My emotionless adoration
Exists in your vision,
Beautifully speculative and subjective.

Who exists in terms of self?
Without an other,
Familiarity is absurd.
Who can know
What he always sees?
In this way,
I present myself...

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Quickly pitting his wit

against an enemy

he reaches for his gun

the barrel is empty

the chamber clicks echo

Staggered staggering speed

as they close in he thinks

again which way to run

the white sedated walls

scream fear, shrinking backwards

A thorn through a window

whisperingly draws blood

as it strokes his cheek

reminding t...

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Fear, expresses no emotion.

It neither wraps itself

In cotton anger, or

Brittle sanity.

It lives in the deepest part;

Of your dream.

Taking up room -

Where the life-force should be.

This living ghost,

Consumes.

It does not chew it's food,

It devours it.

No table is enough to

Satisfy it's cravings.

When every opportunity feeds

Unt...

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