List five things you do for fun.
Play guitar
Collect dad jokes
Watch movies
Sleep
Learn a new skill (currently learning digital art
26 Thursday Jan 2023
Posted Art, creativity, lifestyle
inList five things you do for fun.
Play guitar
Collect dad jokes
Watch movies
Sleep
Learn a new skill (currently learning digital art
21 Wednesday Dec 2022
Tags
comatose, iloveyou, literature, love, pattern, poetry, repetition, writing
I never knew how it started.
I’d just always be sitting at that seat when she walked into the car. Then
That became our thing.
That became our time.
That became our train.
That became our car.
That became our seat.
That became our corner.
That became our station.
That became our greeting.
That became our expectation.
That became our reason to smile.
That became our every day.
Until someone was missing
From our thing.
From our time.
From our train.
From our car.
From our seat.
From our corner.
From our station.
From our greeting.
From our expectation.
From our reason to smile.
Every day, 11 days.
She knew that was it.
When I woke up, 11 days later,
I knew that was it.
——————-
Thank you for reading! If this piece impacted you in any ways, please read more of my work here.
28 Monday Nov 2022
Tags
childhood, poem, poetry, poetrycommunity, toys, toytrain, train, welovekids
A train runs in the backyard but the
wooden fences are still leaning from
the previous generation so the train
kept going on its own tracks
five executive reps stuck their ears to the
ground to locate the incoming sound but
the train sometimes runs above so excuse
New York City if it seems to have lost its way
maybe a train runs through walls so
since the great discovery, the bells have
been a mystery and the rolling rocks have
discovered the purpose within their spirit
but the people collecting tickets are well
accustomed so they will never check the
carpet in their living room even though
in a rush they’ve broken the plastic tracks
built on the dead heat of playtime because
that’s where all of reality makes total sense
the conductor on bruised knees. Who’s also
the engineer, the passenger, the fuel, and the
only one who knows the way.
————————-
Thank you for reading! If this piece impacted you in any ways, please read more of my work here.
19 Monday Sep 2022
Tags
poetry, singapore, traavelingtheworld, travelblog, travelingwriter, Travelpoetry, triptosingapore, writing, youngadultstraveling
I still think I can conquer the world
the world has told me I will lose it all;
my flare will meet cold water
my spark will short-circuit
my energy will emit smoke
they say I’m only 25
so I am a child and I don’t know
the desire to live while your closest companion pleads,
“yes that is a very wise decision, but…”
I will not be saying the same in my 30s
I’m only 25 and I think I’m behind
but those marks stretch to tell me this is the perfect time to do what I’m doing
a few decades ahead have told me they recently stepped into my shoes
the looks in their eyes envy my idea; the risks I took
how did you know to do that; at this perfect time; at this age?
I’m only 25, and the world is surprised that I will conquer it.
Enjoy this picture of me at Jewel during my trip to SINGPORE last week!
If this piece impacted you in any ways, please read more of my work here.
06 Tuesday Jul 2021
Posted Art, creative writing
inTags
appreciation, art, creativewriting, humans, humansoftheworld, internalbeauty, letters, lettertoafriend, mamaearth, motherearth, nexttime, poetry, untilnexttime, writing
Everyone who I’ve felt strongly about—whether family, friends, romantic relationships, or something in between—have all left me with something, after we parted ways, that will follow me for a long time, if not the rest of my life. As for you, it’s a few things. It’s you consistently taking the time to express gratitude for something, anything—even if it doesn’t directly impact you. It’s your care for Earth and society, even as it crumbles around you. It’s your care for yourself, too. It’s your soft touch and your admirable passion and commitment. It’s you being present. The passion and attention you give to others. You’re raw too. It’s like mama Earth made you herself, so you’re not able to be anything except for raw, natural, and spiritual. Each time that I called you pretty or beautiful, that’s what I meant. Each time I pointed out the galaxies in your eyes, that’s what I saw.
But the thing about you that I’m sure will stay with me the longest is how you always took the time to appreciate the flowers on the edge of concrete—things that the average Joe and Mary walk by every day without noticing, probably. It’s not to say that you stop to smell the roses, but it’s more that you make sure to give the proper attention and acknowledgement to the flower that push through and grew from the concrete. That says a lot about you, and I look forward to practicing that in my own life. Thank you.
If this piece impacted you in any ways, please consider reading more of my work here.
03 Saturday Jul 2021
21 Monday Jun 2021
Tags
aspirations, careerchoices, creativewriting, goalsinlife, poem, poetry, poetryblog, poetrycommunity, whenIgrowup, writepoems, writepoetry, writing
When I say I look up to you.
I don’t mean I aspire to be like you
When I say that I look up to you
I don’t mean I follow your path,
Hoping to fall in line.
When I say I look up to you
You may ask then, “what do you mean”
If not to be like that person?
When I say I look up to you
Why should I aspire to be anything, but perfect?
When I say I look up to you
You have to understand no human is perfect
So why strive to be like one?
When I say I look up to you
I mean growth.
Which equates to making my life mine,
When I say “I look up to you”
That equates to making your life mine
Just to get my life back,
And why, would I want that?
When I say I look up to you
I mean I want these characteristics.
I want your lessons that my path in life didn’t bother
Teaching
When I say I look up to you
I mean I want that wisdom.
I want your sermon that my religion didn’t bother
Preaching
Only God is perfect,
So towards He, I aim
So when I say I look up to you
Know I only want to get better as I progress
To you. Then through you.
When I say I look up to you
Know that your success is only a level
To which I want to arrive.
Of which I want to remember.
30 Sunday May 2021
Tags
angeleyeview, artisticvideos, creativewriting, poem, poetry, poetryblog, poetrycommunity, writingcommunity, writingpoetry, youtubevideos
This poem is saying black people need to stop looking to God/religion to save them from racism. God is not going to save black people from the oppressive society and world they live in. Black people need to stop waiting on God to save them. Instead, black folks have to figure out their own ways to save themselves from this racist world. Therefore, black people have got to stop spending so much time and money in the church.
God works on a different time than humans. If we want change, we need to stop giving ourselves momentary gratification by praying and paying the church (then going back to our old ways). Invest in yourselves, invest in your black communities, invest in your black friends and family, not the church.
07 Friday May 2021
Tags
activism, mentalhealth, mentalhealthawarenessmonth, mentalhealthpoetry, poetrycommunity, policebrutality, policekillings, sadcontent, writingcommunity, writingmytears
I know it’s mental health awareness month, but white supremacy doesn’t give a fuck about black folks’ mental health so I hope to edumacate you a bit and bring more awareness to what goes on in a black person’s mind/life in a time like this. Nonetheless, take care of yourself. And don’t forget to take a step back so a black person can take a step forward.
03 Monday May 2021
Tags
activismart, activistaart, blacklivesmatter, blm, breonnataylor, justiceforbreonnataylor, poetrycommunity, policekilling, writingpoems
**A poem about life, after justice is served**
What happens after justice is served?
Will the dust settle?
And so we move on to the next case
Do we mourn?
Do we make laws?
Do we make donations in large sums hoping the currency would heal the dead?
What do we do after justice has been served?
Do we take till the end of a lifetime to investigate made-up probabilities?
Shifting our gaze, away from the bloody truth
Do we impose charges and punishments for the collateral damage?
But not the damage
Do we find space in the jails for civilians?
Is that why we always run out of space for justice
What do we do after justice has been served?
Does a killer walk free? From a murderous job?
A sentence for murder.
Do we erect new leaders? Will they lead to justice?
When do we stop protesting?
What do we do after justice has been served?
Do we erect monuments in memory?
Do we tell stories of glory, innocence, and a righteous life?
Do we capture portraits with no imperfections?
What do we do after justice has been served?
Do young, healthy, angelic and prideful black women get reminded of their worth?
That it’s not worth it.
Do black mothers hold the phone closer, with their hearts tighter, when their black children are out of sight?
Perhaps sleeping.
Do black parents have to have the conversation with their black kids again, for the x time-in-a-row?
About justice.
How, in this country—and this planet—
It doesn’t belong to them.
We can’t save your life, even though you save their life.
What do we do after justice has been served?
What do we do after justice has been served?
What do we do after justice has been served?
What do we do? Now that justice has been served
Do we not know?
Is that why justice has yet to be served?