I was not born to walk the line,
I was born to redraw the map.
Where others waited for the light,
I learned to shine in the dark.
They said the road was already made,
I chose the forest instead.
They followed footprints in the sand,
I followed the voice in my head.
The world may not remember the crowd,
It remembers the ones who dared.
Not the one who feared the fall,
But the one who learned to fly.
So build your road where none exists,
Write your name across the sky.
The future belongs to those
Who dare to create, not imitate.
RECOGNISING ORIGINALITY
immediately
inaugurating
masterpieces
of
memory
&
shaped
undulating
lines
intertwined
pleasurable
in
traditional
contoured
interplay
of
rhythmic
delicacy
relinguishing
emulation
obliterating
rehearsed
interruptions
into
evolved
visual
technical
autonomous
exactitudes
implanted
in
permanent
expressions
ORIGINALITY OF EFFECT
classical
cosmetic
simplicity
engaged
isolated
in QUESTIONS OF LIGHT
distinctly
faded
mis-understood
conventional
beginnings
so POSITIVELY ADMIRED
narrated
compassionate
personification
admired
allegorically
The real ones
Won't switch on you
Your tribes will always align
Your people will never
Turn their back or ride against you
They'll always walk through
The dark and storms without changing on you.
Know your originality
You have the ability
To recognize the real ones
Never let the fake ones put apartheid
You have the power
To separate the real ones from the fake ones
You have the right to choose who to ride for and with.
The reals supports you genuinely
While the fake ones
With hidden intentions
Either to know your game plans
Or to extort treasures from you
Don't do for those who are against you
What you supposed to do for those for you
Use your intellect not your emotions.
When Shakespeare was in school learning his grammar,
under his breath, you could sometimes hear him stammer,
"Who are these fools
who teach you to write by these rules?
They might as well teach you how to screw in a screw with a hammer!"
We weren't always dolls
Before the dolls - flesh was
RAW
and torn
Before we were dolls we could rip open our skin
and bare it to the world
and when a little girl peered inside
everything was new and unseen
but flesh got harder to dig into
and tear
and stretch over a canvas
and all the little girls grew impatient
for it had been a long time since they had seen something new
so the little girls tapped on our skin with gnarled hands
and crooned
open up
let us see
but we didn't
we couldn't
open up please
let us see
its been too long
but our skin was fully hardened then
plastic as a penny
LET US IN
they screeched
and clawed at our skin
but it didn't yield
when our pretty pink lips parted in protest
only echoes came out
and a little girl leaned in
maybe to peer through our mouths into our stomachs
maybe to taste the blankness
but when it did
it choked
its mouth filled with pounds and pounds of fluff and nothing
whispers of when skin was made
to be torn
and little girls didn't dull their fingernails down
scratching at doll flesh
I have seen this phenomenon all my life.
Pride is cruel, aged by the sin of vanity
Within humans~ needless painful strife.
It seems to plague all levels of humanity.
I know you writing poetry doing your best
Come here strictly to be your true self.
Yet to some, you shan’t past their test.
You are not here to be a doll on the shelf.
Celebrate you…always
Poem 2
7/31/2024
An individuals center of gravity to be different from one another
Mirrored reflections offering dubs losing themselves
trying to be you
The house full of mirrors was never a home & they're
obsessed with the fact they'll never be you
It's true we're the same on multiple levels, but everyone
needs a sense of the self
Imitation is flattery & that's well and good but there's
no substitute for being yourself
Don't copy another for you are original, learn to love
who you are & follow your purpose
When it's all said & done, you'll always be you regardless
of the image portrayed on the surface
When I wrote a poetry with superb rhymes in a site,
One fellow poet spit on me vitriolic words angrily,
He was hating my way of rhyming as utter nonsense,
I answered him by using blank verse to justify my act,
Immediately the owner of the site sent me his remarks,
By observing that my blank verse was excellent to read
And the poet who cursed me lauded my great efforts
And requested me to write in that superlative manner,
But, I remembered the words of a 99 year old poet,
"Please carry on to follow your way of writing poetry.
Never give up your originality even a bit my friend,
Others may upset you in all possible ways to change,
But, only your originality will give you great laurels"
He was the friend of Kalam, India's former President!
Hestival this word structure, is copyrighted
To Joe maverick poetry at and from poetry soup
And in all other applications, world wide.'
I also have coined the descriptive
( pulp diction ) claiming copyright today 24 8th 2022 )
the natural glow of unfeigned traits of the imperfect
outshines fake glittering pretence of the so-called perfect
Date: 09/27/2021
Your Best Rhyming Couplet Poetry Contest
Sponsor: L MILTON HANKINS
M-essage
A-bout
R-apturous
C-elebrant
E-mploys
L-iterary
O-riginality
A-s
R-emarkable
Z-est
O-f
B-irthday
A-dvances
L-aughter
Topic: Birthday of Marcelo Arzobal (January 16)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Fleeting notions of grandeur
flaring up intermittently
facilitating imaginative construction
feeding building blocks into cognitive designs
Previously dormant ideation
Arbitrarily forcing its way into consciousness
Reinvigorating long lost neural pathways
Resulting in a ripple effect that
creates and reconfigures chemical connections
The dawn of an ideology
Spawned from the reanimation
of historically prevailing perspectives
Re-branded substantively to fit context
The dismal derivative
of foregone philosophy
theatrically posing as genuine
but with a poorly drawn mask to cover its expression
Two colours true colour
Morality is the mirror of fate
Two colours charity to eternity
Two thoughts in one mind
One thought made it so
Two lovers in one house
Two thoughts made them so
But one love made the house
True shares are even shares
Like water tide at noon
Truth is sweet but two thoughts
Makes it a lie
Light is faster sound is noiseless
Two colours white is popular
Black is general yet they may
Not be the best race
Two colours true colours
Originality is equity
Two thoughts the child that steals
And the child that killed
Which is the Father's child
Which is the mother's fault
Two friends one is wise one is not
One thing made them
They are friends in two colours.
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