Lock me behind bars,
Hide my eyes under the cloudy sky.
Sweet to burn my heart,
Kiss my nape and burn my soul.
Lovely crime, to love a boy.
He despises the fate I write,
The will I wish to sign.
O dear Lord, I beg as I close the closet,
How gay, and never overjoyed,
Over loving a man who hates my wine.
I plead to close the gates of my closet,
So, I never let him out of my mind.
Diamonds locked inside the safe.
Don’t Judge the Cover of My Book
Females
If I gain a little weight, I am too much or fat.
If I get too skinny, I am not enough.
If I wear makeup, you say, “Be natural.”
If I stay natural, you say, “Ugly.”
No matter what I do is wrong to someone.
Men
If I show emotions, I’m soft.
If I’m just nice, I’m trying too hard.
If I don’t, I’m dirty.
If I talk a lot, I’m annoying.
If I stay quiet, I’m weird.
If I focus on school, I’m boring.
If I don’t, I’m dumb.
If I trust people, I get played.
If I don’t, I’m hard to deal with.
No matter what I do is wrong to someone.
Society
The internet rules, judging us humans by the cover of our books,
but are not reading the chapters inside.
I mean, why?
Why do we judge our people by race,
our hair or face,
how we act
and how we don’t act?
You’re over here wondering why I can’t be myself,
because if I act like you, I am cool,
but if I act like me, I am weird.
I refuse to fit into
The boxes they made for me
Days will pass
Over millions of minutes, and
Every time you look
Somewhere out there,
New boxes are made for
The ones who don’t understand.
Maybe I’m wrong, but
All these boxes are imaginary.
They define everything about
The boxes they put you in.
Every box holds expectations, and
Right inside them is where they say you go
I wish I could untie my tongue --
find courage, strength to shine
light upon those least illumined
recesses still hidden from public
view, shielded and scabbed over
like festering raw wounds...must I
accept that there will never be a time
when, freely, I can express my "me"--
that one among those other "me"s
I've not displayed? Depending upon
circumstances-- places and the hour --
perhaps I may set out at least a tiny
kernel of myself -- but I will never
ever tell, and can never be expected
to expose to this world's cold
unwelcoming climate my failing,
fragile, damaged -- pitiful -- but
still barely beating bloody heart.
.
Dare anyone in this wide world,
To tell you, to line up and take it?
Use your head, if you want to be free,
You must have courage and grand espirit!
Dare ye not follow the lame, boring crowd,
Who want you as just another sheep, humble and cowed.
Don’t blame evil leaders, if you won’t speak out against madness,
That is what we do now, creating a universe full of violence!
By ignoring what a huge difference you can truly make,
Passive attitudes are a signal to all evil men, to be on the take!
11/10/2024
Express yourself:
through flowers
through chocolate
through body language
through writing
through song and dance
through musical instruments
through good works
through meditation
through prayers.
An online site is, in no way, for the meek.
You must live in conformity, giving no cheek!
Worse, one must be a jolly gal. or smiling fellow.
Living in a pretentious world, all bubbly-mellow!
The masses loathe those, going their own way.
You must conform, or forego your right to play!
Writers must be individuals, and have their unique say.
To deny them this quality is indeed, a very tragic day.
8/15/2024
@Panagiota Romios
Freedom of Self Expression
True freedom
is freedom to train oneself by harnessing free will
to free oneself
From false freedom's illusion.
Aqua Marine. 5th July, 2024.
I have this cloud that follows me,
I have this cloud that noone wants to see.
It's all in your head
Nothing major can be done.
So suck it up
Get on out and have some fun.
But they can't see the demons in my head -
Scratching
Clawing
Biting.
The demons want me dead.
But they don't care,
They don't want to know
What is under my skin,
They just want me to smile
And pretend tht I fit in.
Another appointment,
Another prescription,
Another bottle of pills.
Saftey pin a smile on my face
So everyone else feels comfortable
While my world slowly collapses
And I fall from grace.
But the world must go on,
Everything done so formal.
I wish I could take the bottle
And one by one eat my pink freedom
But that just wouldn't be right
- Oh no-
Heaven forbid I don't act like I'm
NORMAL!!
Everyone is a student and teacher,
each offering a new perspective
to this world so mimic your muse
in poetry and song; upon canvas
wood or stone, for someone needs
your expertise.
Shadow Of A Neutrino
A grandiloquent assumption of man in having a vast expanse
of knowledge regarding the enigmatic progressions
of the infinite universe is as illusive as seeing
the hazy mirage of the physical
shadow of a Neutrino
Penned sometime in the past
decade or so...
My obsession with writing implements is getting out of hand,
while not quite turning out as planned. I’m still without
that vintage Montblanc, but I’m saving a place in my cabinet
for it, right in the middle where it’ll really shine.
a good pen is
necessary for writing
rivers of ink
I collect all sorts of pens, varieties of nibs allow me to create poetry and illustrate it too; it allows me to create universes. With the ink, I am in flow.
the power of
the fountain pen
creating worlds
My pride is a toss-up between Parker Blue Diamonds and Esterbrooks; if they don’t glide like silk across the page
my creativity stalls. What is given to me, echoes through my soul.
the rivers that flow
from my soul onto the page
channeled scenes
3-24-2021
ALL YOURS (Mar 26) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
A Verse of Longing for God
*************Sally Young Eslinger (C) 2020
I doubt I shall ever fully hear
The psalm my soul longs to write,
For it dwells in the source
Of its intended...
Singing between my heartbeats
In the Paleolithic hum of my ancient,
Ancient ancestors painting their first marks
Of self-expression, seeing stars glint
In the black eyes of bears...Oh!
But can I recall their distant canticles
And paint them anew along walls,
Retracing to the day of our creation?
To see the leaves of Eden rustling
In God’s breathing...
Alleluia. Alleluia!
*****. ********. ******. *******. ******
(C) sally Young eslinger 2020
Poetics Poem, Red River Gorge, KY
I traipse the course of a forking, rambling stream
Barefoot from the rounded top of one small boulder
To another, the slashing strikes of cold water
Startling my every careful leap, place to place,
Landing with deep, short gasps, yet wordless
In an utter joy of intense sensation over sun-sprinkled
Spots so bright against the deep gray hollow splotches of
Drenched stone. The stream does not trickle
Along this gorge, but roars the air and throws
Its echoing roundabout the cliffs like a newborn
Learning its scream forth from being
Buried for years beneath massive storeys on up to
Greater views. But, the stream continues its carving around
The hillside. And the newly-born cries will
Find the voices of self-expression with each gasping
Leap from boulders to cliffs, climbing in a wrapabout
The gorge’s hidden, grand lowlands and rising
Of its own ineffable poetry so fully held within the birthing
Of Nature herself, all that which carries
Of language as spoken
In the heart of God.
**********. **********. **********. **********
(C) sally Young eslinger 10/9/2020
Miracles can happen
at the end of a rainbow.
For the curious,
for the daring,
for the courageous
who ride a rainbow,
there’s a reward
greater than gold.
World beyond imagination,
universes of elation,
songs spun long ago...
for all things repeat,
though nothing bad
will you meet;
evil, you’ll defeat,
at rainbow’s end.
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