Thursday, July 5, 2012

My Quotes

‎"love is a gamble taken by two and testing it, is like peaking behind the scenes of the stock market--its a cheapskate move and it's cheating; one loses while the other soars knowing -->just how much the other has invested..." 

The Predicament

till this day I can't digest 
the daunting task of waking up and getting dressed
when my body, mind, and soul SCREAMS depressed--

I mean you hear the blessed words from the best
however only the opinion from one
sticks inside the chest

So I scroll down from Feeling prime, time, shining dime, rollex
degrade down to my lowest
feeling like the poorest

when you ease your self with them suspision tests
testing my honesty, but honestly I'm upset

To see just
how weak you can be, to become the tryant to feed the mad man beast
inside of you rising from your contemplating insecurities

the culpret,
your corporate ego....

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Trading Love


Fell in love again
Just found out that
He might belong to someone else
And instead of getting in a fit of tears
I’m extremely exhausted
To have an expression
To truly react to how I’m really feeling
Because losing track of love is normal for me
I mean I’m in my world of dreams
Hiding from a shattered past
To notice that I’m losing my hand in hand
Slapped by the reality of his exit
And it’s so easy to blame myself
That it’s difficult for me to interoperate
His fail sense of understanding
And I continue to wither with defeat
Of my irresponsible control of what now is
My overriding senseless emotions
All seeking to come through
And it uses up all the energy in my nerves
And so yeah,  I’m ex-haus-ted ,
Slightly faint and naive,
I just wish I can trade love
For anything that doesn’t involve any more feelings
Creeping under my skin paralysing me
Before I start thinking
Of a proper way to comprehend when love became so useless
Because it’s easy for me to think of a another way to leave
My future would just be
Me my-self, and I—
And if needed be –for someone to carry my legacy,
There’s always the potential of a test tube baby
 because
I’m afraid to open my heart again
To be rendered in the hands of failure
So yeah, when did love become a perpetrator
That I need a restraining order
From?

Friday, June 29, 2012

Who's the Show for?

Subtitle ( I hate men... I know there are good ones out there too, I distinguished that in the poem but still I'm so sowwy ^ - ^)


I don’t know where this distaste dwelled
It almost calls for me to treat
Them inhuman,
But then again a person
That can swipe through women like
Disposable tissues,
Do as they please to hurt
And hide cowardly
Behind a crowd—
Or use their big booming voice that
Even shuts the most powerful
To grow silent
Shouldn’t be considered human...
Disgusting pigs, that ruin the image of the opposite sex
Claiming their fight for success, cash money, and excess
MJ—comparing themselves to the biggest and the best
Disgusting pieces of shit, they had a story, but yours is plain bullshit—
Don’t mess around with me
I know what’s real –and who’s dealing fake G shit
So don’t act or treat me like I’m naive
Because behind this child like essence is a story
Of a lost childhood
Taken by force and a history of violence
I hide my tears behind smiles
Because I know how it feels
To be at the lowest point in humanity
But what I find surprising is that these men find the need
To put me back down there because they don’t “know” me
I’m the one they know least about – and I’m useless to their success
Well let me tell you this
You want to know the truth?
Baby you can’t handle the truth
And you think that I won’t be useful to your success
Because I’m a useless female, and of the opposite sex,
Honey you should be blessed to know me
Because I try to help you smile even when the world tries to make you frown
Because the only way to succeed is to value what you have—it’s called gratitude
Wanting , longing for what you already have—can only set the bar up higher...
So please do me a favor and consider yourself a failure,
Because a person that can have such disregard for others
Can only fall short...
And wanting to succeed in society, is only foolish
Because a society is made up of the many people
you care so little about,
So what’s the point... ?
Because in the end
After your so called success you will still be invisible—
except to the gold diggers that want something in return...
So tell me please
Enlighten me
who’s the show for?  

Monday, June 25, 2012

Diaries of the Unemployed

Thinking about all the people I know looking for Jobs. =)



I don’t know
In school I’ve been distinguished to be an established writer,
Receiving complements here and there,
I’ve even been told by my teachers that I had the potential to be something,
From a student to a person I’ve managed to come through,

But none of this seems to matter
As I craft my life achievements and goals
On a letter sized piece of paper
I still manage to be applicant 5678

And I wonder... “Do you not like me?”

I mean I’ve gone through this process
Over and over again
Only to processed to another line up, another phone call, and an electronic message
barely a human connection
To put a face behind the author behind the craft

And I wonder... “Do you not like me?”

Because I feel like I’ve walked, scavenged, crawled, sprawled
Up the staircases and down some, to hand out a resume
Only to be passed around a table and tossed away,
At least if you told me to wait five minutes,
I could have saved you the trouble of recycling,
and me the trouble of re-printing a story that can’t be changed,

And I wonder... “Do you not like me?”

A honest individual,
Wanting to be independent,
Looking for a chance to step in—
Not to cash in, but learn another life lesson,
Because that’s how I was raised to be—
Not to count the cheques at the end of the day,
But to check in with the things I’ve interoperated from the day,
And grow as a person...

I guess in this new world of opportunity,
I will be one of those educated—to live under a very expensive bridge,
It makes a far more interesting story...
Like the “Pursuit of Happiness” 

Monday, December 19, 2011

Pinstriped Rose






If my heart was a rose,

It would be black

and it’s stem would only have thorns,



I’m discovered because I’m withdrawn

So...mystery keeps you intrigued?



If I told you my darkness

Will you stand close or leave?



To be Honest,

Your presence streams veins of red and pink through my black petals,

Helping me shed my thorns to grow leafs,



So what’s your plan?

Are you going to nourish me correctly—

Or drown the plant?



Because as independent as I may be,

My hearts something I leave astray,



You investigate my eyes

Unravelling what I might be holding back from the world to see...

STOP TRYING TO FIGURE ME OUT!

I’ll just grow another layer of thorns,



When you look at me

What do you see?



Do you see the girl I could be with you

Or the secrets I’ve locked away?



Mystery comes with a consequence,

You never know who to trust and who will just go away

So like the black rose

I’m withering,

Dying,

Unable to figure out who is under disguise

And who is here to help me recognize all the endless possibilities...



Sincerely,

So Broken.