Blossom

She sees herself

Growing.

Like the rose,

Shes unfolding.

Layer by layer.

Petal by soft plush petal.

Blossoming,

Into the woman she wants to become.

No.

This is no cry for recognition.

Simply a means of watching ones self grow.

And fully appreciating who she is becoming

And who she has become.

The Mirror

It stares back
And haunts my very being.
The image portrayed
Kills a part of me
Each time I look at it.
It shows perfection
Its too smooth surface
And perfect reflection.
It doesn't show the scars,
Won from battles,
Badges of honour.

I bring my fist up.
Too hard, too fast.
And all shatters to the ground.
Slowly,
& painfully,
I bend to collect the pieces
And place them back
To where they once were.
But it will never be the same,
As the cracks spread in all directions.
Mapping something that never existed before.
And I am content with what I see.
Happy even.
Because it is real.
Imperfect.

Poetic Perception

Is my perception of poetry jaded?

That I cannot truly see what lies beneath the words?

Is it that my emotions are so over powered by the form,

That I am blinded?

Is it what makes it so beautiful that it sears my soul with its white-hot touch?

But how does one perceive poetry?

At face value?

By layers?

-excavating what lies on the page until we unearth what we want?

Do we find only what we want to find?

Turning away to what the truth may be?

That it may be too much, too little, or even both?

That maybe what we believe in is lacking?

But you see,

Poetry never does that to one,

Allow them to find what they search for.

It gives everything or nothing at all.

Sometimes even both.

Leaving you worse off than you started 

Or better off than you planned.

Never blame the poem,

The poor messenger,

But the poet.

Summer's Song

Summer
The time of liquor
and booze
Of pool parties
and old friends
"no new friends"
sorry, I oppose.

Fun
Fabulous fun,
In more wicked ways than one.

Too much time
And overthoughts.
Of what you did,
What you sought.
Solitude in someone's arms
Comfort, "love"
and all those ill harms.

Bless my soul
If I am wrong.
Maybe its just summer's
Sweet sad song.

INK.

My palms
Covered
With this morbid liquid.
Spilling out of my soul
Onto the ground.
My knees hit the ground.
Bones
 -shattered.
Warm streaks
Reconstruct my face.
Making it a mask of what was.
The deadly wound
Gushes
And washes everything out of me.
A purge.
The ground
 White as snow.
Is now filled
With the contents of my being.
                                                              As I bleed ink.

A poem dedicated to darker times

I would tear myself to pieces
Saying
-Im not worth this..
-Im not good enough for that...
I ripped myself
Until slowly but surely
My existence started to vanish.

Then I stopped,
Living and existing.
I was just
There.
Occupying space.

Then I stopped.
And gathered myself.
And bought myself a bottle of glue.
And began to put myself together.

Its a slow process.
And all the pieces might not be where the should be.
But its coming together.
Maybe I'll look like a Picasso in the end,
But I'll be solid.

Ive been gone for a while, my sincere apologies but you see the thing is, a lot has been on my mind and I'm just trying to shut it up. I don't feel... actually I feel too much and that seems to be the problem. I've been over-analyzing a lot of things, and I'm trying to stop. Maybe I should try and channel it into something creative but I know that I wouldn't like how it would turn out. I want to be done with angry poems, maybe even the emotional ones too, but the emotional ones are my strong points really so I'll hold on to those a bit longer. Long story short, I'm purging. I'm just typing endlessly so this may or may not make sense. Hopefully I'll post a poem soon.

On the contrary

A walking contradiction.
Caring too much and not at all,
So sensitive it hurts yet extremely insensitve.
Pained, yet numb.
Choose.

Rebuttal: Its a defense mechanism.

The same excuse all year round.
Is it really an excuse?
What is it that would need such defenses?

[<3]

Poetry

Poetry.
I write it.
More aptly
 -I breathe it.
I think in stanzas.
It is as much apart of me
As my heartbeat.
My heart beats in rhymes.

Poetry,
Its funny,
It only comes to me when I need it the most.
When I need to express myself,
When people fail to listen.

I cannot think too hard when it comes to poetry,
It'll just evade me.
And stay away until I don't force it.
Its just natural.

Most of my poems
Are written on a whim.
Regardless
Each and every one.
Tells a story.
Some people just understand
More than others.

I put them out there,
My poems, that is,
To allow people
To see a part of me,
That I have built walls around.
The raw emotions, the tears, the confusion,
And
The love.
There's a funny story behind the latter.

Raiven Wright has become a part of poetry
As much a poetry has become a part of Raiven Wright.
We are one in the same.
We are one.

Humanity-less beings we have become

(listen to the song while reading)

People

with out conscience

That is what we have become.

Detached,

Empty beings,

Without connection.

How have we become this?

This monstrosity of creation?

Destroying ourselves and others,

To fuel our greed.

We were once Kings

Until we began consumed 

By material things.

We have lost our way,

on our own accord.

 What are the reasoning behind wars?

To obtain what is not ours?

Why?

How much blood do we have on our hands?

Because of the phone at our ears?

Or the diamonds on our necks?

Whose death have we paid for?

Whose child have we raped?

All in the name of what?

How far along the way 

Did we loose Humanity?

Trust Issues

I'm too kind
Or maybe I'm just extremely selfish
I'm not sure.

Not sure if
I'm too considerate to bother others
With whats bothering me,
Or
I don't consider you worthy enough
to share with you the wonders of  my cranium.

Pertaining to this
I'm confused.
Maybe
Just maybe
Its a mixture of both.

I'm too kind to people,
And too selfish to myself.

I need to talk,
It's apart of our being
 - to talk
 - to converse
that's why we've got such melodious voices.
But I just always keep it to myself.
I don't know to share,
Who to share it with.

I'm slow to trust.
And even slower to trust one with my thoughts,
because these I guard with my heart.

And if,
IF,
I ever do trust you with these
I expect you to trust me just as equally,
Not less.

So bear with me,
As I teach myself
to open up,
to speak,
and ....maybe....just maybe not rely on beings like myself.

She Dreams Too Much

She dreams
Of
Flying
Soaring
So high
Her hands stream through the stars
Casting galactic ripples
Across the night sky.

She dreams
Of diving
Into the Infinite Ocean of blissful blues
And swimming to
The Great NeverNever Land,
And singing
With the merpeople of the Great Lagoon.

She dreams,
Oh how she dreams.
Of never waking up.

But alas.

She does

Ummm? (LOL)

I got
Puppies
 in the backyard
Rain
 Up ahead
Daddys
 on the rooftop
and I'm hiding in the bed

Wont you come and join me
The Lords a'showin' us a sign
Mike wont like this poem
Because its one big ol' rhyme

JP's moving to Kingston,
I feel six feet tall,
Kimani's singing in the shower
How do I know this at all?

I feel kinda weird
And you might find it funny
This is how my thoughts go
And I'm out like Alice's white bunny.

I think I think Too Much

I'm laying here
With a million things to do,
And a phone in my hand,
This is how I usually start my process of over thinking.
Waiting.

Usually,
Music fades in the background,
And the Train of Thoughts
begin to drown out Life itself.

I normally begin by thinking about the future,
And what it holds,
(which usually ends up with a giant "?")
And what has been promised,
And what has been not.

And between the Alpha of the future,
And my Omega of "I think I think too much."
Stands a lifetime of Infinities.
Which usually entails thoughts and "what ifs".

(And we all known who lives there. hint hint.)

I think about my family too.
All three of them.
The left, the Wright and the future.
And I always say to myself,
"There are very few things that my future family should have in common with these of now."
Like,
How my parents raised me.
The suffocating overprotective love  from my dad,
The strength of my mother,
And the bond that my cousins share.
(And Ms. Donna's soup, Grandmas' fried fish and fritters and Indian food)

I would share everything,
but lets just face it,
This rant of a poem would be too long,
And some things are best left unsaid.

Thanks for involuntarily listening to whats going on inside my head.
-Sincerely Yours
The Girl with the Dragon tattoo,
I mean Liam Neelson,
I mean Raiven......I think.

Much Appreciated

"One thing that never changed
Was my love for you."

The circumstances get harder
Each time we try this thing that we have
 -I don't know how to aptly describe it.
To think about what we might have to face
In the metaphorical "tomorrow".

Sometimes I pray to God that we've passed the worst,
But inside I know we haven't.

We've been through a lot,
You and I,
I would call it hell,
But I'm not completely sure what that looks like.
(Nor do I want to.)

And I just want to thank you
For
-being my shoulder when I'm a mess.
-being my counselor
-the hugs
-for being the perfectly random weird person that makes me laugh
-telling me to shut-up and listen
-wise words
-listening
-telling me I'm gorgeous
And this list could go on forever
I just want to simply tell you
How much I appreciate you
(I'm not sure if I've ever done that before)

You're my best friend really.

Little Blackbird

Let me sing you a song of sixpence
With a pocket full of rye

One of the four and twenty blackbirds
Waiting to be baked in a pie.

Now one of these little blackbirds,
She knew not how to sing

And was told she was no longer deemed worthy
To be set before the king.

So that little blackbird
She flew right away
Upon getting the chance to live another day.

She flew away,
Over land and lake,
Through wind,
Past churning seas

And one day she flew to my window
and came to visit me.

We became great friends
That little blackbird and I

And when time came for her to leave
I surely wanted to cry

'Go ahead little blackbird"
I said, the day she flew away
"Spread your wings and be free,
And when you learn to sing,
Sing a song for you and me."

They say everything will happen in its due time.
And I beleived to an extent.
But God is the Master of all things in Life
And he pulled a fast one on me.

One doesn't understand the extent of the depth of this,
Marianas trench ain't got nothing on this.
And I'm still dumbstruck
Will be for a while.
If its not all a dream.

I'm Euphoric.

Its been a lifetime.
A nostalgic flood.
There is a history,
And the future awaits.

I remember when we spoke for the first time ever
The result: I ran.

The both of us,
One table,
And a conversation.
I was a feisty little firecracker then.

And that trip,
I remember that too.
No word were spoken.
None.

Then the hiatus.
The longest of many.

Then the trend of nightly conversations began.
And the ballads
Of cupid beating the hell out of me.
Cute. Real cute.

Do you remember any of this?
I do and so much more.

What bothers me now is,
How the hell
Does one reciprocate
To something of that magnitude?
(Aside from the waterworks?)

(I hope this is a good enough start)

Woman

I'm always trying to prove
that
I am no longer a girl
Very much a woman
-like these hips don't speak for themselves.

Not physically ofcourse
-because these curves show that.

But mentally.

That I can handle any challenge
thrown at me.
that I have the strength,
the God-given strength
of a woman.

Is it because I always feel looked down on
Why i want to prove that I can be
The Yin
to your Yang?

Or is it just natural instinct
that I want to always support you,
Care for you,
Mentally,
Physically,
Emotionally?

Is it too much to prove that
I want to be the Cornerstone of your life,
The Betty Shabazz to your Malcom.
Heck,
the Michelle to your Obama?

That
I want to be The Woman,
behind the scenes,
in the kitchen,
in the bed,
the shoulder you rest on
the support group
the ears who listen
the mouth who reasons (and argues with)?

I want to be the lips
That give you that morning kiss.
that back you feel against your chest
at the break of dawn.
The eyes that look lovingly on your children
Our children.

But I want to be
Strong,
With a sense of her own Independence.
The Business Woman,
In the business suit,
six inch heels.
Stick shift.

Yes.
I want to be that woman
For any man who claims me as their own
I wan to be All Woman
100% Pure Woman.

Contemplating (Too Much)

Hits
a bit too close to home
emotional discomfort
but I'm confused

What emotion is this?
Its so profound
So strong.
So....
RAW

Its red
but its blue
smokey grey
Inbetween.
Hazy looking,
If you asked me.

There's a thought stuck on the forefront of my mind
And its causing a war in there.
Part of me is fighting to get it out,
Part of me is fighting to resolve it,
All of me just wants to know...

What if...?
Would it..?
Is it...?

(Who knew one little thought could cause all this)

of late they haunt me
and i welcome the torture
i play, with them
, sit and smile
the pretense of friendship
i am no innocent
oh lord knows im not
the haunting
the daunting
the nightmares
-disguised as dreams
i welcome them with open arms

the candle light low
the clothes, what clothes?
lens, off
sheets on
the music,
the shyness; blush
thats all gone
and the woman comes out to play

i see:
sheets
skin
a nightstand cradling a camera to sleep,
this shall be done in chalk
but its much more that that
we need something bold
because
this,
this is an eruption of souls

oil pastels maybe
nice and slick
thick
bold and daring
bright
beautiful
majestic

Complete.

Picasso in our stars
We're swimming off to Mars
Float away with me
Flotsam one day we'll be
"Together" in our hearts

We're the fault among our stars
Breathe anew in me
One day you will see
That I'm no longer a girl
But a woman actually
Michelangelo's Venus
This is no longer between us.

Me.
You.
Far apart .
Yet few can read in-between our lines
I'm too blind to see the lies
Words too became unsaid,
Our stories became unread,
Our kisses became undone,
Our songs became unsung,
As for words,
Just one,
"Love"

Am I?

I sat and watched
As they came and went
And intermissions of me
Because I'm always
A safe-haven
I'm permanent
Too permanent
And its painful.
I need something permanent
My life never really had much stability
  -even though the old man tries
   but he cant be everybody

Lets save that story for another rainy day shall we.

It a repetition every time
And every time the intermissions breaks
I say the mantra
"I will learn to walk"
Away that is.

But I'm needed.
Am I not?
Am I?

And the storm begins in my head
Trying to find the answer
To one question

Am I?

Yet the Cycle remains the same.

mama Nchi

The beat! the beat!
Of the African drums
Soul beat! Heart beat!
That soft, steady hum
The Motherland calls
"KUJA NYUMBANI MTOTO WANGU!
To yuh Mama, to yuh Africa
to my sweet sweet soil"
Sweet mama Oh Africa
I shall return home
Marching to Zion
to that beautiful song.

(The phrase in in Swahili and translates to "come home my child")

Anima Contrita

She was a girl who knew not how to speak

She wore that smile

That million dollar smile

To mask the fact that she could not ask for help

She didn't know how

She carried the heavens on her shoulder

With the strength of Atlas.

But the burn in her heart

-that void place in her chest,

Where she so badly wanted to feel

Loved.

Was more painful than when Orpheus looked back at Eurydice, and lost her forever.

And one day she broke.

And the heavens met the Earth.

And two new rivers were formed from her tears

And she was no more

She Broke. 

Solitude

The urge to be here
is strong
the lone one
..
solitude, whispers my name,
emotions and thoughts,
overflowing like a waterfall.
beautiful to those who admire
painful to those who jump.
i jumped

Dance for you(until a better name idea comes along)

It starts with frustration

one more hidden than the other.

Cures?

In the words of Gong

“Some good good lovin’”

That was easy to source.

Fantasies-

Brought to life.

The Miss and the Sir,

The wagon was jumped, filled to capacity

Yeses were said.

And corruptions were promised…

-yet-

A sensual lick of the stamp..

The package

Ready for delivery

A very depraved package.

Very depraved indeed

The devil himself was impressed.

The only question that stood in the way was

“Which room?”

Selfishness was allowed

And all hell broke loose.

Years in the making

Finally connected

Mind, body, soul, and so much more.

Ecstasy,

Moans,

Screams –Yes! Please.Don’t.Stop.

I’ll let you in..ties..permanent? temporary?

Two became one.

One skin.

Slick and perfectly sweaty.

Pants of release.

Marks left on each of the other.

Owned.

It’s been a long time coming…

And thoughts became actions.

HIT THE LIGHTS!

…and action.

Subtle fantasy

They’re always there

Forcing themselves to the forefront of my mind

Regardless of how hard I fight to keep them away

These thoughts

Of being touched,

Being held

Being loved..

skin on skin.

Lips,

tasting the sighs of beautiful satisfaction

Sweet mesmerizing caresses.

A merger,

two halves, one soul.

Thoughts of entwined limbs, and the discarded floor fetched fabrics of this world

This world that we have so far surpassed,

For we have entered a new plane of life.

These daunting thoughts

Haunt my every moment,

whether awake or asleep,

they ghost their ways into me.

Making me so far gone.

Its your move.

Checkmate.

...and the search continues

So I sit on the wall and wait, you see

For what? I’m not completely sure.

But its something that brings happiness

Yes

That’s what I want,

Happiness

But I don’t know what happiness is..

Is it true love

Succulent lips devouring mine..

Softly Calloused hands travelling under fabric..up up up..skin on skin..giving me that high?

Or is it emotional?

Joy, tears overflowed, I bit of sadness..

Is ‘Happiness’ the giving of one’s self?

Completely,

without remorse,

body, soul and all,

whatever the cause?

Unsure of whatever it may be,

I’m tired of waiting, of sitting,

So I’ll get up and brush myself off,

Take a deep breath and begin my journey of a thousand miles

Because ,

No-one will do it for me.

Loss

She collapsed and wept, feeling the loss of him so poignantly that it was almost like he was hers. But he wasn't. She'd never had him, not really. She'd just borrowed him.

(untitled)

Summer

Sweet succulent summer

Of stolen kisses

And melting hearts,

Blazing sunsets

Held hands

And the faint scent of sex

Dripping bodies

That yell to one another

The smirk

Of a tease,

That play beneath the sheets

And "true false summer love"

...........

And the person

Who waits patiently

For

The miracle of love

But "faint heart never won fair lady"

Or in this case

"He aint gonna love you if you playin' sweet honey"

So throw on that sex appeal

And show some skin

Because they dont start liking you

From what shining within

WHAT WILL YOUR EULOGY BE/ THE TRUTH

If I were dead
What would people write about me?
That I was a beautiful girl, with a warming smile,
Who wanted to change the world.
She was strong willed and had perseverance?
She was a happy young woman?
LIES.
They don’t even know half of it.
Beauty is only skin deep-
It is just a façade that hides the horrors underneath.
The TRUTH.
I am a caged animal,
Waiting to be released.
To run away from my past, the pain
And who I was before.
Me,
I don’t want to change the world,
Not anymore.
Too many have tied and died in vain.
That’s just not my job to do again.
Sounds a bit defeatist doesn’t it?
I don’t know why people chose
When you’re dead to suck up to you
Kind of pointless isn’t it?
When you’re blind, deaf and no longer living
Is when it matters the most.
(Oh how ‘ironical’ (lol))
The irony.

Volcano

I am in a stupor
A mess
A very sticky mess
I feel stuck
Can’t move
In any direction
TRAPPED.
I am about to erupt
Feel the pressure building?
I’m about to snap
Soon.
How?
That, I cannot answer.
Anger is more prominent this time around.
How to vent?
I do not know
No way of letting it out otherwise.
No-one to speak to
Nothing to hit
No voice to scream
It’s growing.
Anxiety.
Pressure.
Pain.
Hatred.
All boiling somewhere deep within.
Can you feel the pressure I radiate?
Step back.
Go away.
But yet I want someone to get hurt
I have to let it out…
Now watch my horrific fireworks
As I
EXPLODE .

I lost myself

Some between religion and free spirits

I lost myself

My friends have stayed true and have helped in ways they can.

But

Here I am

Unaware of what I think

How I feel

Just... nodding and going along

I guess I’ve become a sponge

Soaking up everyone else and quickly squeezing every drop of myself away.

My Messed Up Emotions

They are a part of my being.
Personally I find them dark, twisted.
Yet I don’t want to part with them.
Not that I could if I wanted to.
Because of them...
I have fantasized,
Things have materialized in my mind.
They drive me crazy
But keep me sane.
They keep that spark of belief
for that thing we all want...
that is so hard to attain...
That alien
Called ‘Love’.
It must be alien,
It’s not from this world.
They give me the ability to understand its foreign language.
-making me a bit alien too.
They are the reason I have survived
Through the tough relationships.
They became that person I needed when he wasn’t.
They comfort me
And stitch my heart back up.
Me and them.
They and me.
The Messed Up Emotions Of A Messed Up giRl.

Indefinate

We cant change it
It'll always be like this...
Well thats what I pray anyways...
I dont know if youd want to change it...
So I'm simply asking...
Would you change it?
This bond that we have...
So beautiful...
So heartbreaking...
So twisted...
It is
Indefinate.

Dont do it

Don't do it.
Don’t use your charm...
Don’t be all suave and silky
-because you know I like it… love it actually...
Don’t use your words
-because you know I find them soul wrenching…
Don’t dare use your eyes
-because you know I find them irresistible…
Don’t speak
-because you know it traps me…
And don’t smile
-because you know it melts me…
Don’t exist
-because you know it kills me.

Don’t you get it?
I’m trying to get over you…
But that’s impossible isn’t it?
It can’t be helped…
It’s just the cruel twist of destiny.

Fantasy world

I’m living in a fantasy world…
And want things that either are nonexistent or aren’t available to me…
I’m doing this to myself...
And I don’t know why…
I’m just putting myself through hell.
It gets me through the hard times I guess…
It’s the least I can do for myself really…
Pretending keeps the pain of the real world away…
Don’t get it twisted.
I like facing the pain of the real world…
When I’m strong…
It keeps me grounded
and real.
It shows me that we’re all equal...

Even though I don’t exist in this reality at times…
I know I’m not the only one.

Overdose

I'm getting in over my head now.
As usual your getting me drunk.
My very own personal brand of vodka.
-how lovely.
I was told to take sips
but I'm taking gulps.
Control
- I have none.
Take note...
-this is what you do to me...

I'm losing myself
and I want to get lost.
-in you that is.
I swear I have the dosage wrong.
I'm losing my line of vision, my frame of mind

I'm only seeing you right now...
Thinking you right now...
I'll just enjoy it while it lasts
Because I know...
You know...
It wont last long.

juliet let down your hair!

This is for J... the  Romeo-Juliet/Rapunzel thing got me thinking...

LOL.

Enjoy

<3

The end is near...

You say you want me
that's just the lust speaking.
The woman at the bar turned you on....
I don't deserve this.
I'm just a day away from being a year away from womanhood
I'm legal in some ways
and could have given you what wanted if I wanted to a long time ago
...IF...
but I'm not like that and you know that
but what you don't know is
I don't want this anymore
I think the end is near.

I'm sorry....

I gave you everything

My heart, my soul

So I just thought you would do the same. Maybe I thought that you

Owed it to me. Maybe. But what are my chances of being

Right?  Just

Remember that it was

You I gave my heart to. Not anyone else.

Hate

Have you ever had the worst possible day ever?

And nothing would suffice

To everything you gave out, but got nothing in return. When that person shattered

Everything you thought mattered?

anger...

The anger that pours through my veins is not my own.

We are not born in anger...

It is acquired...

From life experiences...

From pain...

From love...

From heartbreak...

Can't do better...

We talk

And you tell

Of the things that I really don’t usually condone

But I make an exception

Just for you

And sadly

It disgusts me when this is done

Because

I know you can do better

And...

You can

But

You just can’t.

I wanted you to want me

I

 Have known you for almost a forever. In the start of it all, my young heart somersaulted every time you      came around. My cheeks, flushed. Waiting on you to notice me, wanting you to, but shying away when you did.

In my naive state, I yearned for you,

Wanted

you. I guess I became somewhat stalkative (if that’s even a word), sad to say.

You

Were close by, I watched you out of the corner of my eye. If you acknowledged my presence, the blood that was rushing

To

my head was accelerated. A total rush.

I loved it.

The day that I got all 100% of your attention, I’ll never forget, was one of the most wonderful days of my life. The silk of your voice and the depth of your eyes. It’s something I’ll

Want

for the rest of my life.

Somehow, in that department, I feel devoid of all those things you had let

Me

Feel. And I have yet to meet someone that makes me feel as you did

Love lost

Let’s hold hands and jump into the ocean,

and swim away into the forever

because I was your first love

and you mine.

Or so I thought.

And the water starts to burn and your hold on me loosens,

And the waves turn to fire and I start to burn.

I search for you...

And find you...

And in the flames I freeze as my heart turns to ash...

Because in burning in the fire

While you’re jumping into the ocean

With someone else.

(untitled)

We’ve been through so much

And yet you still can’t see the tears

That spilt from my cracked worn and broken heart.

You do give some of your time to me,

well what’s left of it anyways

like I am some dog begging for leftover scraps from your feast.

It felt so good when you were on the receiving end of this pain,

I thought, maybe finally you could what I’ve been through.

How stupid and naive I was,

I fell for you yet again. And you used the ultimate weapon on me – saying that we both felt the same way, conflicted and in love.

But while I spit my beans everywhere, you kept your mouth shut. Keeping the ‘her’ you’re with now.

Or maybe you haven’t said anything because I’m the one you’re lying to. (Sigh*)

I’ll kick myself for this one day, soon I suppose.

These are the poems I’m good at, the ones with pain and ache and hurt.

To you they are my words...

To me they are our story.