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Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.
~Emliy Dickinson
You pulled me closer,
And closer.
I let your love sink in like venom.
With every drip i found my life hanging between sweet solace of death and the nightmare of the present.
To you I've gifted my life ,
My love.
To you I find my home ;
Yet you seem like the canon that shoots down my fragile home.
“A Simple Thesis Poem”
Why did the chicken cross the road?
The age old question
To make a better life for zirself?
Did zir walk or perhaps run away from the flames that were on the other side?
We never talk about what zir found on the other side, thoroughly
Did this chicken find a message in a bottle telling them it will all be okay?
Or a worn down album from Sting and The Police?
Zir may stop to pick up the classic vinyl if zir found it laying on the busted sidewalk to listen to the poetry in their lyrics
The chicken makes it across the road
To pick up the record
To realize there is no record player to properly enjoy their poetry
Finding an old Gatorade bottle
The flavor Fierce Grape
Maybe purchased at Trader Joes
The Mecca of grocery stores
Thoughts of childhood soccer games
Slightly dramatic
And traumatic running through their brain waves
Zirs thirst no longer quenched
Remembering to be kind to the earth that continues to hold zirself up day and night
Throwing it away in the waste basket adjacent to where they found that fiercely delicious poetry created by the Police
That does not sting
Zir notices a couple holding hands
Within one block their hand lock changes several times
Are they trying to find comfort in how they show affection?
Can they not comfortably hold hands because their love has become less delicious?
Did their love get too close to the sun like Icarus’s wings?
Will their love melt back into each other or into other’s hearts?
We will never know the answers to all these questions
We will never know why the chicken truly crossed the road
What we do know is this
Zir chicken struts across the road to pen poetry for zirself
Zir chooses to share their poetry with everyone else
In time
On zir terms
Not to impress
Or be cohesive
Simply to get through another day
Deciphering messages found in other’s poetry and empty Gatorade bottles…(Panku)
© Elizabeth Sophia Strauss
Impression
Born in a less than ideal situation.
Having to find a way to elevate when you only see devastation.
Learning to be a better person when you only see questionable foundations.
And don’t you dare think differently.
You’ll be singled out and shamed.
Stay in a child's place is all they paint until it’s stained.
What you speak will cross everyone's ear frames.
Can’t even be confined to a parent.
Your feelings will be displayed on a canvas and they wonder why our trust vanished.
Now opening up is so phantom.
Their lack of loving, patience, and directions makes us less equipped for future relations.
Choosing yelling over communication.
Leaving us with no understanding of our transgressions.
Not knowing who we become is a reflection of their lack of preparation.
Forcing us to grow up too early.
Not mentally but with responsibilities.
Hindering our possibilities.
Encasing us in their own Insecurities.
Highlighting similarities from a parent with ongoing hostilities.
Basing our capabilities on theirs.
That ain’t fair.
We ain’t ask to be here, we’re products of two toxic pairs who don’t know how to actually care.
Ain’t saying the love ain’t there but there’s certain ways a child needs to be love that parents are unaware.
My energy is priceless but lately I been letting everyone pouch in like Tyson.
I was clueless that I was investing in sourceless Entities.
Allowing deposits from insignificant funds when I been giving out fortunes.
Extortion from the people I hold dear.
Depleting my shares for who would vanish when I need little bit care.
I been facing despair when no one is near.
I’ve become accustom to disappearing instead of asking for help cause for me, no one else is truly there.
A burden I came to bear but still lend a hand when I hear someone else cries.
Maybe it’s how I was raised.
My mother instilling me with generous ways.
Or I’m just a people pleaser that doesn’t know how to say no.
The most loyal or most stupidest.
A stewardess in pleasing but never in dismissing.
Maybe it’s a mission from divinity.
Embedding a large amount of empathy within me.
A coping mechanism to avoid my own vacancy.
Steadily engulfing myself in everyone else’s misery.
Knowingly knowing that the energy I receive take toll on me but I continue to indulge in things that’s no good for me.
I’m the biggest danger to me then any weapon formed against me.
Self inflected wounds that could of been avoided.
Mental trauma that still need to be sorted before else where involvement.
I just want to be dormant but everybody keep calling.
Truly love
My phone don’t ring but everybody loves me.
When I’m distant, all I hear I’m moving funny.
Questioning my silence but my body language speaks loudly.
If you loved me you would see that my mind is cloudy.
That my eyes is forecast for rain but I’m forcing delays.
That my energy is off it’s relay.
That my demons are having a field day.
I can’t shake the thoughts I’m having these days but I aspect someone who loves me to detect.
Sometimes you have to detach to reattach.
Isolate to medicate but no one understands that.
They want you to shine through all your darkness.
Evaluate them while you’re deteriorating on the inside but they love you.
How could you love me and not sense my imbalance.
Maybe it’s the mask I’m wearing but I thought love can conquer all.
Why couldn’t your love slip through the cracks?
Have a flanking attack or is that to much to ask?
Maybe you don’t truly love me.
Purest
Your the purest skin but treated like the latter.
And black man we scattered.
My perception of us has shattered.
We suppose to be kings who uplift our queens but lately we been leading them to disaster.
And all I hear is laughter.
Jokes and games like we all wasn’t in chains.
We should be put to shame but we can never see the errors in ways.
We’re men, this how we’re train.
We received praise for what slay.
Never taught restraint.
How to deal with pain.
This is probably why we reciprocate in harsh ways.
Projecting it on our beautiful reflections.
Choosing lighter complexion cause they don’t call us out on our lack of direction.
I will never understand this disconnection.
I will never get the lack rage.
This boil the blood in my veins.
How we allow them to stand alone through all their agony and pain.
Down play all their accolades cause we hate to see them be great.
Hate see them achieve more than what we can equate.
What we bring to plate would deflate any mate who choose to engage.
Instead of upgrade we display hate to heal our ego that’s already in fragile state.
Then when we flip the tape and blame it on their traits.
The way we manipulate, irritates.
It’s time for a change of pace.
Shame
All I feel is shame.
Suppose to be the next big thing.
It was all in my genes but I can’t fulfill that dream.
It got me going through the motions.
Handing out potions.
During a lot of healing so I won’t feel.
A coping skill to distract me from the chills I get.
It goes hand and hand with the liquor I sip.
Hiding behind it’s lit so I can keep pouring it.
Drowning myself cause I’m tired of the reality of it.
It keeps downing me and I keep doubting me.
Overthinking cause I don’t know what you think of me.
Do you hear my pleads as I scream.
Or is it only in my mind?

Fatherless
You set the stage then vacated but your shadow still eclipses me.
Your path or mine, them lines are blurred.
I want to walk in your footsteps but who am I personally?
I took my mind from my body and thought how come we never spoke but I’m always talking to you.
I don't cry but its like I'm always shedding tears for you.
I started balling so we can be closer.
Looking to stands but every time, your seat empty.
Deep down, I'm empty.
Suppose to be here but shots rang out.
Your bloody body, dropping, replaying like it’s the gamer winner.
Another black fatherless child.
It’s endless.
Senseless.
They asking why I’m so distant.
You was put in hearse before I learned how to mourn.
I’m still so torn.