The Poetry Marathon

Dear me,
You are love and you are loved.
Always remember this,
never let anyone convince you any different.

With love from
-The Brand New Brave Me.

Dear 19 year old anxious me,
Let go of trying to control everything,
Stop overthinking and worrying yourself crazy,
Calm down love
why in such a hurry?
Breathe in, Breathe out.
Embrace the chaos,
Embrace the mess you are,
for it is art.
Trust the process.

Love from the
still anxious future you.

Dear 18 year old heartbroken me,
Sometimes it’s not meant to be
and you will have to make peace
with this fact…
I know it’s a hard pill to swallow and
sometimes you meet the most unforgettable people
at a hellish time with whom you create the most beautiful spontaneous memories.
They are meant to guide you through
keeping you company while you walk the fire.
Life is a bitch like that way.

From the future you,
who still hasn’t got over him.

Dear 21 year old me,
You’ll get there eventually..
Trust me, I’ve been there,
and after it’s done you’ll love
what you have become,
because of the ups and downs.

.-Love
Future you

PS: I am from the future and I promise it’s worth it..

These streets have been silent
for far too long…
Let’s kick up a storm
and run all along.
Let’s raise our voices
and make our intentions clear.
Let this announcement reach those far and near.

The revolution has begun.

Man and animal walk hand in hand 

together all along.

United by this purpose.

Let’s create a revolution
and let the world know it’s purpose.

For ideas are born in mind,

but implemented in revolutions.

j.r.m© 2016

#PoemNo19

Everyone you meet and greet,
or even chat with will pose with this
formal greeting ‘’How are you?’’
As it is regarded as an unspoken
but practiced social norm which
reflects common decency
and polite courtesy.
To that I will revert back with a question
‘’Do you really want to know how am I doing?

But trust me when I say this,
none of them are really interested in
knowing what the fuck is up with you.
Because and when I say this
I speak from experience
Everyone is involved with their own self,
too busy to care about what you have to say.
Why suck up to social conformity then?
I will revolt in writing, pour out my frustration
but when it comes to doing it
I shy away from it.
Not because I’m scared
but because it has been so deeply
engraved in my very upbringing.
Society has imbibed this ritual of responding
with phrases like ‘’I’m good!’’ ,‘’I’m great!’’
Which do not at all sound genuine and heart-felt.
We lie to ourselves when we answer like this.
We barely skim through life
We don’t get to talk our heart out

Let’s begin a revolution of answering every ‘’How are you?’’
thrown at you
with nothing but honesty.

j.r.m© 2016

Zeus

j.r.m© 2016
Embedded in your eyes,
collapsing galaxies
exploding stars
and the night sky
You fluff ball
even without sight
you seemingly
manage to penetrate
my soul,
crack open all
that has hardened
with time.
Melting me with your gaze.

#PoemNo17

My heart is
no stranger
to the different kinds
of heartbreaks
people have
to offer.

Smile to
my face
and stab
me right
in the back.
The kind
of heartbreak
betrayal has
to offer
is painful
and hurtful.
I begin
losing trust
in everyone.
But with
time I
heal, and
eventually overcome
this heartbreak.
 

The second
kind of
heartbreak is
the one
you get
from someone
whom you’re
romantically invested
in, dreaming
together, planning
a future with.
After all
the time
and effort
you’ve invested
into the
relationship, it
goes south,
washed in
the drain.
Regrets collect
like dust
on the furniture
-Memories WE
both share.
But, eventually
i move on,
and learn to
love again.

But this
one stings…
like a moherfucker.
Refuses to
fade…only
gets stronger
with time.
No matter
how much
I try to
ignore it…
it returns
back with
a harder
punch.
‘’You’re nothing but a bag of shit!’’
roared my dad
with temper fuming
when I was 13 years old…
I’m now 27 years older
and this one insult
still paralyzes me right
down to the bone,
I crumble,
drenched in a pool of my own tears.
I don’t remember why he said that
all I remember are those 7 words
ringing loudly like the temple bells
in the deep recesses of my soul.
Like a stain that refuses to leave
the words are etched in my memory,
so strongly with the expression of disgust speaking volumes..,
the sad thing is… that even after all this time…
those 7 fucking words can still reduce me to a puddle of dirt.
The heartbreak that I never got over,
is the worst one of all..

j.r.m© 2016

I crave delicate touches
Possibility,
pure innocence,
and untainted curiosity
Shinning in the eyes of a toddler.
Spreading joy
with reckless abandon.

Chubby folds,
powdered diaper bums
Frolic in the air
Babbling  baby gibberish
I love delicate touches…

j.r.m© 2016

#PoemNo15

Your heart- j.r.m© 2016

In the palm of my hand
I can crush your beating life force.

In the palm of my hand
I control your blood flow.

In the palm of my hand
I hold your very life.

With eyes almost closing,

but sleep is a stranger

Energy levels running low

enthusiasm fading out in the distance

prompts un -inspiring

or maybe it’s my fatigue talking

I can’t seem to tell the difference…

I wish to close my eyes

and sleep for the next 48 hours

Have you seen my little baby?
My little girl?
With eyes that carry an ocean of
emptiness and sadness.
And a broken smile
that will make you cry.
With hair that is the color of darkness
And a fragile frame that holds 120 pounds.
With skin that looks bathed in fresh cream.
With the brokenness of a falling angel
and damage that only made her more beautiful.

She was last seen entering the mist

If anyone finds her, tell her mama loves her
and is waiting for her.