Walled off..
no mirrors, yet spy when I can
distorted reflections have eyes of their own
see myself close
long nose, lie when I can
walking among shatters
broken pieces, now there is too much of me
I see too much of me
you’ll soon get enough of me
there’s not enough space here for you,
and all of us…?
I meant, all of me
kinda..sorta
you won’t get it
many things I never let go, and only left bottled up
wallowed in woes
shame flavored liquor- bottoms up
help never follows up
tomorrow gets swallowed up
my yesterdays, ominous
presently stuck,
memory burrows like borrowers
led to belief
follow the lead
followed then led
but leaders are followed
and these shadows won’t leave me
Mercy
God I Really Need an Anchor
God I really need an anchor
lately I been feeling anger
rising to the surface my mirror depicts a stranger
I been trying to do different but I’m caught up in the wrong angles
still struggling to understand everything u put me thru tho I don’t wanna blame ya so I’m not pointing fingers
its just that the people around me, live more for the symbol of their twisted fingers
and I get caught in the middle amongst my other hang ups
mirror reflections projecting a stranger
veering from sections that direct me to danger
standing in pride puddles soakn my ankles
copn when recorded cordphones get tangled
how can I be a leader if they rather I lead them to war
their problems lead me away from calls where I find respite talkin to real loved ones in order for them to settle a score
but I can’t fault them tho, there aint too much to do really so problems become dug up whenever ur bored
I’m soaked in all these fuckin pissin contest amongst lions seeing who has the loudest roar
and I swear I can roar with the best of them, u as my witness but I quit that years ago
its hard looking out on this yard and believing in miracles
those closest to me don’t even believe, they rather lay their faith in a finished product
and only venture to listen or talk to me when its more convenient for them but I accept it as needed company if I’m being honest
they can’t see who I used to be, and who I am now
versus my destiny that I’m somehow tryna plan out
but they’ll be around later with their hearts and demands out
trying to flip things making me feel guilty with their hands out
Im struggling, omg I swear I struggle
this part is for u, yaw know who u are when I said it I meant it I swear that I love u
but that’s just not good enough huh when I’m not close enough to help u out or even touch u
delayed gratification has became my strength but you allow it to crutch u
pain and the pressures of life proffer promise and purpose but yaw allow it to crush u
I went thru so many names I’ve forgotten who I was way before I came here, forget an alias that made me alien just call me Russell
never mind again call me young russ-resilent under stressful situations
or better yet, WayOfLife, becuz even now, I just live thru it, and thru-out my limitations
I call out from this box when Im in need of ventilation
but how come I’m seen as the sick one but I get on the phone and try to be patient, but I just happen to be the one that’s not the patient
deep down I love her god, but I don’t think that she notice
I also love her too respectfully but deep inside she’s a cobra
I love them too but they selfish with no belief and no culture
oh and I love them too and tho they free, they ain’t living life, they’re just inside of a coma
I guess I love easy and fall hard, the characteristics of anyone lonely enough hiding behind a fasade
I try loving those that its toughest to but love aint always kosher
I try living to love, but all I know is fighting these wars inside of myself that I scribe inside of my poems
what’s life, but choices made from a bunch of conflicting moments
I need u but don’t go to you in those moments when u could make me the strongest
I see prison as my platform but I struggle to own it
my perception and my persona keep me feeling lonely
I think I miss my mom, and maybe the raw feeling of love
too many years I been numb, but relationships always work to both break u and heal u up
could any woman even truly wait and not let another man feel her up
speaking like a man, saying she got needs too, but she still in love
and what about that estrange relationship between a father and his son
my son said I was a bad boy today cuz I’m in jail
I said u right but daddy is in grown up timeout trying to get well
I told him u have to love, listen forgive, and be nice then u can have it all
he listened and showed me real love, I challenge adults to do the same, see he wasn’t mad at all
he told me to hold on so he can put his socks, then came back and listened
its funny how we handicap our kids trying to hide things to keep them safe but the are more resilient and really they pay attention
he’s 6 when I asked him does he know what I do everyday he said that I wear the same thing everyday, ha how would he know
I corrected him saying I got sweats and stuff too but those were just my visiting clothes
I also workout, do my homework and try to help others
one minute left, we said our goodbyes, shared a kiss and said we love each other
if all ur wrongs are lesser than mine, than maybe u should see how u sound trying to compare and name one
responsibility, fault and pride are hard concepts, i used to struggle with blame, I rather not blame but everyday I accept being the blamed one
how can YOU change but somehow in your head accept me as incapable of change and being the same one
I wouldn’t say it out loud, I’m more passive and forgiving now, but I listen to so many from the stand point of me being crazy yet I feel like the only sane one
sirens and violence and riots im on autopilot reading signs and minds doing time times hard times,
rewind, remind me of a past I keep behind to hopefully keep my silence inside of me…shhhh
prison will make u a sociologist with sociopathic behavior
worst moments have me on the other side of a conscientious russian roulette bullet chamber
in prison I’m an indentured slave, fighting for freedom and favor
listening to my siblings vent of how we’ve ventured as strangers
voices in my head screaming hearing their pain in my absence but before it exits my mouth those voices are strangled
I can’t let certain emotions show while these waves are rocking and rising even though I can’t swim, and this prison cruise ship is tainted
I played enough with fate and im not feeling any braver
standing strong for so many years on a wavy foundation
guilt from my mistakes, I tried saving so many, joked about how I’m a ‘captain save a’
but now im in need of a savior
so like I said, God I really need an anchor.
Prison Door
you!
I know your truth
I live inside your labyrinth of secrets
clever the walls you’ve set up to hide
yea you withhold just as much guilt from innocence as I
projecting your cloak of iniquities upon the labelled and lesser
self righteous in your makeup
you pretend to be this line of salvation and wreckage
this boundary between good and evil
a line of scrimmage for justice and criminals
protecting those that have been wronged
by the wrong
as if they too were never wronged
though you are built on this standard of correction
but more like a base line of opposition
the wars going on outside of you
are just as bad as the ones going on inside of you
but the world inside of you
is but a microcosm of the world outside of you
pretending to be this barrier between the civilized
and the savages
protecting the priveleged
from the indigent
facading as a moral platitude of righteousness
keeping the harmed safe from harmony
though the idea of you erects itself high above reproach
your moral compass has long since been broken
mirroring the fragmented sounds that occupy you
your par agonize lines of justice are made up
fabricated by a false sense of security
and it’s discriminating qualifiers of-
the right
and the wronged
life inside you has lost its humanity purpose and worth
though you find worth
monetarily at least
or you’d too, have no purpose
because you’ve showed as much that
humanity is but a blurred line
a clear line that you draw.
Suspense
For what she knew of me
not lie, nor truth
but wonder
because I knew not of myself
but I hungered
and she yearned with equal fire
to be my satiation
so we set sail
for a life full of discovery.
Mirror Mirror
Mirror mirror come off the wall
follow me everywhere I go
make dreams, reality
seeing myself everywhere
seeing myself in everything
Bruh, I Get It
True story
I listened
offering my heart translated through words
presence and attentiveness
watching as his facial features tried remaining masked
but I saw thru the facade
knowing who he was at that moment-
a hurt and broken man,
struggling to hold it all together
though he was none the wiser of my discovery
but I get it
not being able to see his kids
no visits since he’s been locked up
a wife being everything to other men but a wife to him
even though he didn’t have much time to do
but I guess any time gone, is time too long
he knew she lied
she’d asked him how does he know
he responded that he could feel it-
deep in his heart
catching her off guard I’d imagine with such a deep revelation
coming from a man of all things
she told him she just wants to do her
and maybe they will get back together in the future
but he’d had enough
rejecting that offer immediately
knowing the devalue of self that would come from accepting that possibility
but not all love is right
and he’d done enough wrong
her explanation of concealing her deeds was ‘wanting to spare his feelings’ (cold…)
to that, he said
“what feelings?”
I got myself ripped from you and my kids being in this situation
the judge made sure he ensured the void
and you have ended any kind of relationship and marriage that we had
“what feelings?”
and I understood him
poignantly
painfully
a putrid feeling invading my re-collective past similar experience ending at the worst time for me
he said the reason it hurt is because he’s at his lowest
“leave me when I’m high but not when I’m at my lowest, when I can’t fend for myself”
but she reveled in the power she gained from his mistaken departure
not gone a second too soon it seemed
why does love continue to get diluted by power struggles?
his existence was now dark cold isolated and hollowed out
a hole carved inside fragments of what was once a heart
the story went on
and as he vented
I saw his resolve
restraint
and his reserve
I believed that real strength was a mysterious feat harnessed by women at deeper levels than men could ever reach
but seeing this man,
a reflection of myself
trying to hold it together
while speaking truth to his pain
still trying to reason and stay afloat
mmm
powerful!
I admired his will
I kept asking myself when will the dam break?
anticipating tears to spring down his trembling cheeks
I reveled at this moment,
seeing victory in him
no doubt she believed she took his fight
but I seen it brilliantly on his face
staying strong for his kids
and for his mom he just listened to cry
whom was flying in to see her grand babies for the first time
hearing the news of an abrupt change of plans by their mother leaving town
malicious
I began to take it in,
validation
we are more than thoughtless animals,
deserving of cages
though we are convicts,
we are people struggling through life like most
but what I wasn’t prepared for was hearing why he was here
he got a misdemeanor upgraded to a felony for a FIRST TIME OFFENSE DUI- refusal to blow though he consented at the station
this one small lack of judgement caused all of this
he did what most would get diversion or probation for
but he was black
so when he said
“what feelings?”
I understood what he alluded to
saying he lost it all
that he has to carry this the rest of his life
so what more is there to feel?
I get it
damn…
I feel you brotha
upon his face bears the greatest lie
while hiding the hardest truth
but his composure will not wilt like a flower in shade
not matter how dark it gets
strength
I told him that it is all a matter of how you choose to react
see what you’ve lost sight of in the midst of your discomfort
there may lie a gift-
a truth only revealed in despair
what I didn’t tell him is
that I’ve heard this same story countless times over the years
as the years have gone on,
my answers evolved
from being the story
to witnessing the story
now counseling the story
his pain was and still is mine
bruh, I get it
hold ya head solja.