SELF ESTEEM - Spoken Word Poetry
When your eyes open, the negative emotions flood in, irrespective of the time, day of the week or if the sun is coming in. That voice, as strong as ever, so prevalent so clear at reminding you that you are nothing, not worth another breath, why reach out to friends when you're just going to be a burden until your death.
It doesn't matter about words of encouragement, often they fall on death ears, unless you have a friend that's known you for years, who puts their arms around you when they see your tears and whisper in your ear I love you, I'm with you, it's going to be ok, Unfortunately no friend exists for me, not even one that was there back in the day.
You have to rely on yourself, you can't always rely on someone for help, often getting out of bed is like pulling yourself up from a cliff edge, it's ironic cause you always finding yourself coming back to the cliff ledge. This is not just sadness, it's not just all in our head, somewhere along the line things just got fucked up leading to empty days to the vicious things said before bed.
Social anxiety is like a dark cloud one of many anxieties that rain down, this world is much more complicated then these tears you see of a sad clown. It's not about being happy, but about feeling something in this black reality, functioning without a panic attack or dropping down a well of depression that erodes the insanity.
Self esteem is below rock bottom, why build it when it''ll just continue to get knocked down, you put yourself out there, share your intimate feelings without the groundwork and come across as a damaged puppy, an exit strategy already in the works. Another let down is not an option, hopelessness is a form of survival, living life day to day with no hope of a revival, to my old self that no longer exists, this is it, this is how it’s always going to be, some will call my life a tragedy. But I’m not calling out for help, that ship has sailed, like making anything out of my life, being happy that notion has been dumped long ago when I failed.
A drop in the ocean, however hard I try and describe these feelings it’s like i’m speaking another language, I can’t conjure up the strength, intelligence, to be articulate, I can only disperse words in this muddled jumbled up method that has no purpose in particular, but to let off steam, this is my silent scream, my only way to let my mind rest from this torturous dream.
To all those who can relate, take care of your next breath, I hope you can keep on top of your anxieties that are always swirling in your head. I would give you my strength if I had any, knowing how bad times can get where no matter how much you invest, you’re blasted back to square one, there’s no escape from this pain, no rest. I feel you, you’re not alone, there’s always somebody listening on the end of your internal telephone, you just need to pick up the receiver and believe in Her. It’s not easy I know but you can do it, you can get up off the floor, and face another day if not for yourself then your loved ones, find a reason to put down the knife and carry on. We all have that inner reserve of strength, discover a way to activate it, when desperate times hit it’s not if but when have it at your disposal when it comes to thoughts of life and death arm yourself for reprisal.
You are a droplet of the divine, everything in your life is carefully designed for reasons beyond our understanding, know that you are always loved and never alone, if there’s anything you take away let that be it, we are all royalty, kings and queens on our thrones, just look in the mirror and you will see a miracle, perfection, a person who is cherished from that energy we all know exists, feel that heartbeat, you’re here for a purpose, you just have to uncover it believe in yourself, you have everything you need inside of you, just put one foot in front of the other that is all that is required. Safe travels.
RACIST - Spoken Word Poetry
Bin Laden, Paki, Rag Head. There will never be a shortage of racists because there will always be parents who fail to raise their kids. So many hearts pump hate, those are the people that are in the most pain and need the most love.
Think about it a group of human beings flew planes into the twin towers under the guise of their interpretation of their faith and a specific view on the world so that must mean the billion or so others from different countries, continents, cultures, religions - those who also have beards and head coverings are all the same? By that logic every white man with a haircut is a Ted Bundy, an Ian Huntley, a child molester, a murderer a rapist. Are you?
These misguided souls have been programmed and conditioned by the illusion that we are not one human race. They had to be taught this hate and discrimination like a person who wants to learn a new language, everyday these beliefs were drilled into them. Instead of nourishing these children, their stems were bent and distorted so they only received half of the sun's rays.
Of course this is not just a matter of raising children with compassion and an open mind and heart, just ask those adults that honk their horns and holler a racist slur from the safety of their cars on 9/11 and 7/7, as if they think they are doing some honourable duty for their country. They saw the towers crumble, the bus explode and now suddenly every brown person with an unpronounceable name is a fucking terrorist. It's no wonder they generalise in a world that breeds it, a media circus that never stops delivering it's agenda for power and greed and some extra zeros in their bank accounts.
There are millions of bombs walking around waiting to be lit, they don't spew flames and smoke but hate, anger and jealously. When a simple conversation with us so called terrorists can cure those diseased riddled brains poisoned every morning by the newspapers and the controlled TV news stories, delivered daily in careful small doses that have led to hearts as black as a heavy smoker who needs a permanent oxygen mask. Animals have more sense than we do, what does that tell you?
Until there's a change of consciousness, where more time is spent looking inward and getting in touch with yourself and who you really are then this mother earth, that belongs to nobody will go up in flames, crying at the lack of humanity wondering how we managed to destroy this paradise.
nostalgia - Spoken word poetry
breathe - spoken word poetry