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This Poem is Not An April Fools Joke! I’m not a fan of practical jokes and I hate April Fool’s Day. :///  I wrote it today and felt like posting it because I haven’t posted anything in a while. It started out as a free form writing and will most likely be edited down a bit. Perhaps, it will become a song at some point. Been doing a lot of dreaming lately with lot’s of bizarre themes, holding vivid details. Some of which are incorporated in this writing.

Ladders in Dreams

Expectations to be what you see me to be
you see me to be
a thing that you see
in reality
me, being me
is out of bounds for you
i breathe
a fire for life and
recognition of the tree
that gave birth to we
even though
i get the feeling that you
see me as a she
as a foil
an example
expecting coolness from me
what you don’t see is the
actual me
the me that has dreams
and the me that speaks speak
seems pretentious and out there
but it’s the only me I can be
sadly, you who can’t see that
there’s more to me than
the see saw that holds you up while the weight
falls on me,
the weight of conformity
the weight of dis-ease
the weight of normality
the weight of un-ease
I see you pretending but
that’s just not me
I see you offended that dumbing down
didn’t suit me
I see you confused that this girl who is brown
has a heart, and a spirit, that can’t be touched down
you see me as royalty
at a loss to bow down
but just see me as a
cell in the organism
we sound
the same and you are you despite
the lame perception that it depends on the way
that you feel when I’m around
you ask “am i rich?”
you ask “how’d you get so smart?”
you ask “why not give in?”
& scream “too late to start!”
you question my authority
to command my own being
regardless of the chains
that stayed strapped to my being
I can’t help but rise
and still i keep rising
the basics of thought
keep me true to my being
say mind over matter
what matters is mind
say kind of like
actors
i’ve adapted
I try
sometimes the glass shatters
you see what’s behind
it’s hard to stay hidden and true at one time
what’s life but a mirror
what’s love but the ceiling
what’s behind but our hearing
what’s the art but each spirit
making an effort to sprout like all seeds
making an effort to climb
causing rocks to fall free
seeing ladders in dreams
Grandma’s talking to me
am i here or not there
it seems not up to me,
but i fight and stay fighting
I always get free
cause I fight and stay fighting
I always get free
but i fight and stay fighting
I always get free
cause I fight and stay fighting
I always get free