Pain sometimes rains strain
That catapults us either to seek to inflict punishment
On others as churlish challenges drain
Our stamina until if misused pain robs from our judgment
Powers of discernment essential
To separate fiction from fact
Trash from quintessential
Enabling us to care and to detract
From misdirecting our energy
In spreading pain
Slaying synergy
If we deign to enable the reign
Invaded by misconception
To twist our perception
Surrender to the mirage of deception
To betray the correct conception
Of the role pain in our lives plays
In God’s grand scheme
Where pain slays delays
In reaping opportunities to reap cream
From shafts of pain meant
To elicit the best
From pages sent
To prevent the pain test
From degenerating into a curse
That worsens our fortune
If from our belief purse
We stress the tune
That strays from the narrow path
That leads to our salvation
Promised to Sylvia Plath
If we are to earn from God a standing ovation.
Categories:
misdirecting, poems,
Form: Free verse
He called be up in the bright hours of morning
Stating very serious offenses have been filed
let me explain
A complaint has been issued, it seems
We have your number
We have your digits
We are recording your voice
For serious purposes, Justin
It has come to our attention..wait
let me get my supervisor
Ring tone-
it has come to our attention, yes
We would like the information
For your legal council
To make this official
(I) interrupt
Okay lets here the description
yes, Mr. Justin
You stand accused
of check forgery
of misleading and misdirecting
of Theft by Forgery!
nothing but laughter....
This is very serious, I agree
Call me back
When your fake law firm
Gets its Real Identity!
Categories:
misdirecting, allegory, angst, fear, me,
Form: Free verse
Trapped within a mortal combat
My life is the prize
This game has swallowed my happiness and makes life a fight
Knowing none ever win
Death is all that's won
Another ghetto poem
Another ghetto story
Decisions and choices are within the battlefield
Gunshots describe my life
My stripes are my scars
My name have become numbers
Drowning my hope with dope
Washing the truth with lies
Misleading by misdirecting
Causing me to miss my blessings
The truth is worth confessing
I'm tired of the oppression
So tired of stressing
Faith is all that's left
But there is little to believe
Knowing no better
Faith is air
The preacher lines his pockets
Many go hungry
The pastor says have hope
But he doubts himself
This story is told by a million fold
Each day these stories are never old
Gathering thoughts
Others laugh
While watching my back
Hoping to see another calender flip
Pouring out liquor for the ones gone
My tears makes flowers grow
But it doesn't ease my soul
Categories:
misdirecting, black-african amerlife, truth,
Form: I do not know?
ME 2
MY LIFE HAS BEEN LIVED APART
FROM THE START, I FOLLOWED MY HEART
THEN IT BEGAN HURTING TO MUCH
I WAS LONGING FOR A GENTLE TOUCH
FOR ANOTHER TO SEE
THROUGH, TO THE INNER ME
THE OUTSIDE OF MYSELF IS A REFLECTION
OF WHAT I'VE LEARNED, FROM ANOTHER
THINGS HAVE A WAY OF AFFECTING
NOW I HAVE MANY HABITS FOR PROTECTING
MY HEART FROM CRUELTY
MISDIRECTING
THEIR VENOM, FROM ME
MISCONCEPTION?
NOW I AM SEEKING TO UNDERSTAND
UPRIGHT, SORTING THROUGH INSIGHT
AND RISING AGAIN, TO STAND
AND LOVE, AMIDST THE CHAOS
NOW IN THE LIGHT, AFTER THE NIGHT
I'M CAUSING LOVE, AND CASTING LIGHT
I'M NOT ALLRIGHT
BUT I WANT TO BE MORE
I AM TRYING TO BE
MORE TRULY
ME
Categories:
misdirecting, recovery from...longing,
Form: Prose Poetry