i think that even if i were to change,
nothing else would
i think there will always be something
wrong with me
no matter how normal i look
why should anyone recognize me anyway? my bright pink hair
doesn’t make me less dull
i try to ignore the laughs, the stares, the outward thoughts of people thinking,
“what a weird *!”
i really cannot blame them;
i think the same thing
do these people really not care what anyone thinks of them?
perhaps i am strange in the way that my brain allows me to
still think with individuality
i want to go home where everyone tells me they hate my stupid hair instead of
just staring at me until i figure it out
Here lies Zenani among the first rains.
May her spring, thoughts and hands enrich our brains.
June 15, 2010
(Zoleka Mandela's daughter, Zenani died at the age of 13, in a car accident in 2010. Zenani died two days after her birthday, in a car accident, while on her way home from the World Cup concert in Soweto.)
Identical twins,
but only physically:
Each has their own mind:-
Trampled Wills
Do you want something? Own ideas?
That’s a problem! You cannot live alone!
Are you an individual? That’s a crime!
You cannot have your own will and
consciousness, ideas, dreams, goals
You can’t be yourself, you have a ruler
You are a slave to a science. Human-made
This is the dark age. Foggy. Psychologically
The sun died. God became an exile
We are controlled and monitored animals
This is the darkness
We become zombies
In the Bible, Jesus said
Wolves come in sheep’s clothing
People who have been made…
Hopeless are waiting for the hope
“I am your hope, I save you!
Just do what I want of you!
Just follow all my instructions.”
Say it with a false, friendly smile
In a lambwhite cloak
The Foggy Psychology
You are
Money
Today I’m grateful for individual courage…
as the bravest among us have always known
It is easy to stand with a crowd..
but it takes courage to stand alone.
"To be or not to be?"
Such a loaded question...
for some, indeed, choose
not to be, what others would
have them write;
not to pen where
others set and wallow~
(ears, eyes and hearts
tuned to personal, less classical
lyrical mystery) --
----------------------------------
Who knows?
Yesterday's HG Wells
perhaps
tomorrow's science diction.
BORN THIS WAY
Some people say I’m cheeky and that’s okay
I don’t care what they say, I was born this way
I can’t be like somebody else
I just want to be myself
I write poetry and I write songs
This is right where I belong
I’m not into numbers and I don’t do sums
I would much rather play the drums
I love music and I love words
But, I’m afraid of heights and I’m scared of birds
I can be quirky and sometimes strange
Even if I could I wouldn’t change
I’m not sure what else I can say
I can only be me I was born this way.
Mistake of psychology
A human life is a life. The only one in this life
The only one. But this is the one. The only one
Yeah. But who is the owner of this life? Who?
God? Yes, but he gave free will. Then? Individual
And what is a psychologist? Here in the UK?
Controller? Ruler? Not for my life! I am a European!
I respect my creator, the God. He is the boss
He is the boss, not you, and I have given free will
It’s freedom, this is mine, and cannot be controlled
Psychology doesn’t try to control an individual
His life is not your life, no one needs your care
Live alone as a healthy individual. Don’t want…
… to be sick.
Go away of my life
Please
Do not
suck
my blood
This
is sadistic
mentality
Serial
killer
mentality
In my humble experience I’ve found
The average individual is smarter
Than the average group
But the average group is stronger
Than the average individual
And so the group will always get its way
But the individual can usually figure out
How to stay free
(3/28/24)
Not always will sorrow,
remain in your lot.
Not always will a lot of suffering,
leave a scar in your heart,
because when you stop depending,
on others for a fresh start
and start helping yourself,
by parting from your grievous part,
you become an example of a person,
willing for a restart,
and set an example in front of those,
who are still torn apart....
I: It's in every one of us
N: Never try to tame or hush
D: Dig down deep and let it flow
I: Initiate and let it show
V: Voice the words to make a difference
I: Impact others and in an instance
D: Deeds of goodness can be spread
U: United brightness will be shed
A: Around the world and soon we'll see
L: Love surrounding you and me
What is normal?
I have skin, eyes to see, a nose to smell, a mouth to eat, ears to hear the songs I love.
Normal but feel like extraterrestrials from above.
I yearn to travel to places I have never seen.
Will I feel normal when I go across sea?
I understand people more than most.
Because of that I observe and seem invisible like I'm a ghost.
I dress pretty normal for a lady.
Put mismatching socks slouchy hat maybe.
My eyes are big, honest, and kind.
Maybe normal isn't a thing I can find.
Unique as I am is beautiful too.
At least I'm genuine, yes it's true.
I love chasing sunsets like a gypsy.
Nature calls making me shifty.
I see through people and know their heart.
I'm sensitive not normal and accepting myself is a start.
I'm creative, an artist, a writer, a poet.
At least I am me and I know it.
We're all individual no two alike
In all the million of faces
You think to yourself how is this possible
But there's proof staring you in the face
'Tis quite spooky 'till you realize
Similar but with not exactly the same features
So therefore I rest my case
We're all individual no two alike
A war on individual rights
is brewing in the U.S. of A.
Seems a woman has no control
over her body as of today
And how many more personal intrusions
are headed our way?
Seems we concerned poets ought
to be broadcasting our say!
One ideological group is taking advantage
of its political clout
Bandying all sorts of crazy
conspiracy theories and ideas about,
Creating chaos in our schools
over imaginary fears they spout --
Seems they ought to find something
better to do than shout.
Written May 6, 2022
INDIVIDUAL SIGNALS
the contemporary
long nurtured
a sympathy
lifelong regained
so sensual
in
an array of
tactility
& subtler change
& more incisive
a plethora
in mind to breathe
when it lures
to encourage thoughts
invoking nostalgia
to engage
to emerge
&compel
trauma
to remember
&
conjure
displacement
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
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