PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Your single mother and cousins applauded you because they had faith I was the one.

It felt amazing to be this close to a family that I never met in the flesh.

Seeing them in the form of a discarded diary should have sounded an alarm in my head.

Your voice was so solemn and so soothing that it was like tasting a honeysuckle lollipop.

It was the best flavor I’ve ever had until I told you about the pauper I am providing for.

Then the flies showed up and I spent the next two months swatting them away.

One day, I licked the lollipop for the first time since then and tasted manure in the center.

I wondered why something so sweet could taste so repulsive.

But to my surprise, I was struck by the thought that I should have known.

You found yourself a guy you couldn’t wrap around your finger.

I didn’t see it until I was being bled dry and I could barely stay awake.

I had nothing to offer you when you claimed I did.

So why were you angry?

Why were you cranky?

I thought you were dandy

When you abstained from hanky panky.

All this time, you were still the hurt little boy that was raised in the Pope’s lyceum.

And turned into a lamprey the second I couldn’t give him anything to eat.

If you’re alone and free, I’ve already forgotten about you.

If you deserve better than me, you took the easy way out

By cheating on your test in life and got caught by the pauper.

You whimpered in fear of getting expelled and I was prepared for it.

The lamprey within broke free when I couldn’t look at you as the same person I loved before.

You fruitlessly faked your regret and pinned the blame on my ass to get out of jail free.

I’m not crying not because I didn’t care about you.

It was because I have the ending from that film memorized by heart.

It’s crazy, isn’t it? I know. I’ve watched it several times in French as a student.

I know my worth. I’m smiling in public while the sun is up

And brightening up the night when it goes down.

Thank you for putting words in my mouth when you were at your lowest.

Can you remind me again what major you’re pursuing?

Because you behaved like a patient in a case study at Arkham to me.

Wake up and smell the roses, my sweet summer child.

If you can’t stand to be where the bald eagles take flight,

Then park yourself on a bench and feed the pigeons.

It's been a while since I've seen you, been a while since I've heard from you.
Your face is the one thing I can still see, and your voice is the one thing I can still hear.
Mentally, I saw you walking, but you passed me, and didn't notice I was there.
I tried to call out to you, but you didn't hear me.

Once, I thought I loved you, everyone else seemed to think I did too.
But all I felt went away very quickly, like I knew it would. 
When I met you, I was happy, we talked almost always, and it was great having someone to talk to.
You were there, when he wasn't. 

I appreciate and love you for that.

I've tried to picture what it would be like if I was with you, what it would be like if I was yours instead of his.
Would I be happier? Would I experience what I'm not right now?
So many questions, and so many answers which I haven't found. 
Everytime I am alone, I feel some sort of sadness, some sort of emptyness.

Not that it completely has to do with you or him, but I think more to do with the loneliness I've been living with.
Making myself believe things could be different every time I find someone new.
But, you know how it goes, and how its gone for me.
How to walk away from something seems easy, but sometimes, people struggle even when they know they have to let go.

Being with someone new is something I almost don't want to do again.
I don't want to tell anyone else stories of my past, and how I once was.
I don't want to do things and not keep it to myself.
I've always been a quiet and reserved girl, I've always been you could say, overly careful about who I allow to touch me.

Doing things with him, I grew comfortable with, and something I became okay with.
Doing things with you, I've questioned, and thought of, something I would've had to grow comfortable and okay with.
Could I ever do things with you, can I see myself doing things with you, and would I ever see and hear you again........but this time, for real?

I look at how other girls live their lives, and sometimes think of how they handle being physical. 
How do they allow themselves to give their all to one guy, and then another after some time has passed?
is there never any regret? Is there never any fear and doubt?
Where does the trust comfort and idea of being okay with it come from?
If things go wrong, how are they able to allow themselves to do it again, and with someone else who isn't meant to be their someone?

And off the topic I wonder, how was someone like you, able to seemingly fall for me?
I am a damaged broken record you see. 
What is there to possibly like about me, how can one like me, and why?
Even after trying to be with someone for 5 years, I still don't know why he chose me........but then there's you. 
Why did you pick me? why havent you given up? Why do you still wish to have me?
What is there, aside from the reason to do with my body, to like about a woman like me?

Mumbling soliloquies, define my constant ambivalence

Questioning all decisions, seem to eclipse my every choice.

Actions I make, contend with options not taken,

Where is the smart guy, when I need him the most?

Daily struggles kick my ass, as I ramble on and on,

No answer was the right one, condemed at every turn.

When will my self esteem take control, when I am the smart one,

Will my selfesh alter ego ever learn?

I was 5 when I first learned I was black

1^st grade 2^nd grade something like that

It wasn’t a big issue, just a fact

As long as I had my juice box, when It came time for snack

Even as a child I knew, that I wasn’t right

My hair much more curly, giving me less insight

Everyone who looks like me, must be less bright

The best future for me in sports or limelight 

If I’m lucky ill be famous, as long as my rhymes tight

But lets be real....when you look like me, there’s no real future in sight

At least that’s what I learned when I found out I was black

And unfortunately for me there was no turning back

But I cried and I tried cuz I wanted to be

Anybody and everybody that didn’t look like me

Because there was something held back, when they told me "Your black" 

Somehow the history , it fell off track

You see my 5year old self didn’t know I was caring with me

Hundreds of years of pain and agony

My 5year old self didn’t know the psychology

Of the hurt of generations within my community

My 5year old self couldn’t pay respect

To the slaves that built this country on their backs

Couldn't even pay honor; to those who had to fight

Just so I could have basic human rights

You see its far easier to believe it’s a lack of trying, a lack of ambition

As opposed to a socially constructed set of conditions

If only i could go back in time, and meet 5year old me

First I would say she cute, tell her to follow her dreams

Let her know she's not allowed to have low shelf esteem

As I'm  pulling her aside, looking deep in those beautiful brown eyes          

Telling her, girl you are intelligent and beautiful, you know things like that

Most importantly remember you are far more then just black!

knowing you the way I got to, helped me really appreciate the rain pouring down, & to look past the clouds.. 

I never felt one with the sand until you touched my hand.. even the fireworks weren't ever as breath-taking.. 

you to me, were like a piece of breathing earth, with eyes, & ears.. a heart.. but too many fears.. 

I can't say you have much more then me, though.. & it doesn't matter which one of us is less flawed..

I wish I could fly away to a paradise, somewhere i'll finally have all the closure I need... for everything..

I feel like I have to fight with myself everyday.. battle of self esteem, hopes, dreams, disappointments, needs.. 

I battle to stay awake, & I battle to fall asleep.. 

wherever did the peace go? whatever happened to the flow...

I got lost in the forest of my mind, trying to become free..

but more then a few of these deeply rooted trees have collapsed & fallen on top of me..

scratching at the dirt, gripping at the grass.. I can't breathe..

is love just as much baggage as hate..? because they both seem to feel equally heavy..

maybe inside i'm just overweight.. 

maybe that's what i've been seeing.. 

how can I work from the inside, out..? 

how can I prevent these ups & downs..? 

do you even know..? I didn't think so..

it's all up to me.

learn to appreciate the rain... even if it's drenching you in pain..

i'll always be your secret.. 

Feeling a little somber
As I lay here and wonder
Where the time goes
As the day passes with swiftness
As my heart unleashes
The very essences of me
The mirror surely shows my reflections of loneliness
Yet my emotions are so withdrawn
I just don't give a fuck
Tired of being hurt
Lied to and missed used
Power to the man
Always.
Coming to break us down
Leave us lifeless
With out admissions of their
Wrong doing
Wake up ladies
Stand tall and proud
For love has not forsaken us
God just hasn't blessed us
In due season
Your dreams will be
A true reality~Eop~

(c)2012 cassandra Evolutionsofoetry covington

What Cloth Am I Cut From?

I have this ability,

Inside,
Within my very being...

A Gift?..
Talent...
A Skill, Yes...

Worthy of Honing.

This, my craft
I've come to love.

But it is so much more,
Much more,.

You may call my way
However you believe it to be...

But I hold it's secret.

See it for what it is,..
and it is Amazing,
It is Ancient, and Limitless...

To me, the one that wields it,
this blessing?.. I see, incredible things.
I alone, my inner eye,..

Then of nothing, shall I create something,..

Seen til this moment,...
By me, and me alone.

Now, made real by my magic,..

Physical, Real,..

Mysterious spells, and enchantments cast
upon, into, over and through it.

imagination, emotion, heart and soul,..

Do you see?... Gaze upon my artwork...

Inside of you, and you, and me...
Strings, and I manipulate, maneuver, Agitate,..
I Soothe, I sympathize, I celebrate,...

Surrendering myself, entirely,

I make each piece,..

These spells are made of every color.
Potions stirred into impossible textures.

Subject matters,..
Please Judge.
Please Critique,
Please, please, pretend
to know my reasons,..

I see the awe
See the hidden wonder...

what state of mind must mine be indeed.

See the cloth that made me,
Makes everything!

I am destined,
I have heard my calling...

Bottom, to Top,..
Roots, up,...

In love with my calling.

by: JRFehlmann.

Secrets of a pretty face

The perfect image I see in the mirror is still mine…

So elegant, so polished….Looks like I’m fine.

Looks so distinguished and cold,

Never tired and forever bold.

My lipstick is still scarlet red

Despite all the things I’ve said…

No dripping eyeliner for me

In spite of everything I could see…

My cheeks blush so full of life,

Even after his decision cut me like a knife…

My hair still stays in place

With the same curly lock across my face…

My pearls shall make me shine

As I pretend I am not the one to whine…

I shall not cry over spilt milk,

Instead I shall spoil my femininity with silk.

My image shall not speak of my state

And it shall not reveal my fate…

Because that’s a woman’s honorable mission:

Look impeccable and never talk of her condition.