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.