Poetry Blogs (reflection)

To know my fingerprints
on another’s heart
could stir them into art
a priceless gift, a magic

To know there is a poem
written about me
those words, more beautiful
than I could ever hope to be

From the caverns of passed time
there comes a sound
a constant, quiet, ring
when I choose to listen
always there
telling of another way of living

That the heart of an artist
a complexly c...

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Sometimes black and white become one. 

Gods omnipresecence is seen, white dancing across black. 

Morning comes from night. 

Day breaks and lights the dark. 

Half the world is light, while the other half is dark.

In the dance of shadows, white light reflects colors on dark night. 

Prisms take white light and reflect colors on black night. 

White light, dark night.

Black canv...

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A world of desperation. 

The face and the faceless. 

Indescribable yet on the tip of my tongue.

Impecability holds the key to power.

I stare out over the city on my park bench throne.

The morning hours calm my mind. 

Crows speak in their own tongue. 

I reflect on a night of dreaming. 

The number is 4. 

Time to let go of what I can no longer carry. 

My saving grace is ...

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I wish the abyss would stop looking back at me.
I look in the mirror and I swear that's all I see.
Not a monster but a void I cant escape.
I was born with a heart but it seems mishaped.

Someday I swear I'm going to leave this place.
Find my way to the light that people praise.
But for now I think it's better if I hang my head.
Bite my tongue and drink until I just forget.

I don't know how ...

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I could fill a barren sea 
full of tears I've shed
for a moment with you.

I learned to focus only 
on the good it led to.
 
What purpose does it serve
to open old wounds

except to serve the 
greater good. 

So, I bellow not

unless it can be
a beacon 

for mermaids
coming ashore. 

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As I continue to reflect on our relationship, both the good along with all the troubles,  I find myself to be more and more at peace with my actions and role our relationship.  What I continue to take away is that you cannot change someone.  It is impossible.  However, what is, is the possibility to always change yourself, and hopefully change how others see themselves, others, and see a different...

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A valuable gift,

An emotional curse,

Seeing past the illusion,

Stuck with the truth

Ugly at times,

But you know it’s for the better,

In a world of pretenders,

There’s only a few authentic left 

A loving heart,

Unable to be free,

God forbid you love a fraud,

Imagine you’re 6 feet deep 

The mind and the heart are at odds,

HOW can they reconcile?

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My mind is something like an analytical computer,

Processing, Calculating, Probability.

Always observant,

Sometimes giving me unrest.

Is it really as simple as it seems?

Or is my mind prone to hard truths?

This is my newest edition to self-discovery,

I think my mind needs to have surgery.

Dissecting the unforgiving folds,

Maybe even remove the hard drive,

Se...

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Lately I’ve been wondering, 

Wondering in the lowlands,

Lately I’ve been following,

Any star that shines,

Painfully I’ve swallowed,

Poisoned arrows that led me here,

They whispered dreams and virtue, 

Didn’t know it would crumble to tears.

I can’t help it,

Every man has felt it,

I’m alone,

Though you try to help me.

Where every map leads backward,

P...

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Contradiction is inevitable.
Perspective relative.
Monotony is life.
Amnesia saves
drugs,
a selfish freedom from the past.

White open spaces,
existence and impermanence.
Meaninglessness.
The great abandonment,
a tragedy,
the greatest agony,
random nostalgia.

Simplicity,
blue open skies, open arms,
open mind over mind
over matter mad as a hatter
no matter the weather,
I don’t ...

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Phoenix

You set my sails ablaze,

How can I not feel hate?

My wings are singed, I cringe,

My throat is dry, I cry,

Why did you cause such pain?

Did you not my trust my ways?

My reflection is maimed,

The hope you did deflate,

The energy fades,

The Light of Heaven diverts away,

I guess I’ll have to wait,

The urgent message on delayed flight,

The r...

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If time could go backwards I would change a whole lot

the misery experienced and the Untied knots

things would be different but better you'll agree

because I would know what would hurt and benefit me

times are hard and will only get harder

life is short and will only get shorter

so I must correct my mistakes and just stop accepting this sorrow

Because I know I have fewer toda...

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If living for subsisting

or existing to survive

Purpose stays elusive

any sense can’t derive

Going about in vortex

moving at  rapid pace

No time for indulgence

in own personal space

Stuck in same tedium

since been on to avoid

On face near amiable

 but zest seems devoid

In inferred conspiracy

end's nowhere in sight

No choi...

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Asleep beneath a sodium tongue,
Damp synthetic fire-licked stone,
Fake stone,
Hand made stone,
Carpeting ugly and commodious city streets,

Voices of young men,
Smoke filled lungs and wide wild eyes,
Sanguine chatter-boxes,
Impatiently idea making,

Dreaming, cold-air-breathing, nights on end without closed eyes,
Hearts open,
Some happy numbness in the fingers and toes,
All may rest ha...

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I did not ask,
I did not ask to emerge from the firmament,
I did not ask to grow, and learn, and make mistakes and start over,
I did not ask to feed a whole soul by way of wide-eyed wonder,

I did not ask,
To consider my self,
To bear the burden of loving a stranger,
To practice the discipline of forgiving,

I did not ask,
To find my way in the dark and reach out to touch the only force in ...

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A new blog entry...post National Poetry Day, pre litigation...a poet's life ain't an easy path.

https://leilaniestewart.wordpress.com/2015/10/11/a-poet-reflects/

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She drags tired heels

across a tainted floor,

poise slightly bowed

and her back is sore.

She holds on her face

a cold marble stare,

a hard life engraved

upon cheeks once so fair.

Her faulting movements,

once graceful; divine,

her aching limbs now

with guile, defy

her final performance

on this dark empty stage,

memories fleeting

of a much better age...

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The smell of sex and stale cigarettes, Two bodies connected in life and death, Chapped lips meet between the sheets, Lust in our bones, the Reaper in the air. How rare an oxymoron, neither with clothes on, We follow recreation with deadly inhalation, Skin touching skin, lips wrapped around uncertainty, Two separate entities leaned inwards somehow gently, Feeling so alive, ...

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Beset current despondency

goads me again to express

Reason for disenchantment

and issues crucial  address

It’s not just plain strangers

but ones considered as own

Despite all indulged civility

apathy in return got shown

Kept seeking sane rationale

 searched the very core inside

Answers did never justify

with none to stand be...

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Feeling blue and lonely,

for positivity I’ve doubts

Long has been torment

 with endless sort bouts

Undoing other’s tangles

accidently I got caught

Intricately opposing to,

how I would’ve thought  

Unknown with intent wily

I still can face and fend

Familiar I can’t decipher

with their density contend  

If success was a hal...

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It indeed turned a folly

telling wrong  from right

Each came out a winner

with me conceding fight

I’ve reached a juncture

doesn’t matter anymore

On face may seem loser

but wiser since before

Likely never transpired

surprising didn’t emerge

Accepted all dished out

veiling own latent urge

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I’ve reached a juncture

doesn’t matter anymore

On face may seem loser

but wiser since before

Likely never transpired

surprising didn’t emerge

Accepted all dished out

veiling own latent urge

No rue is being nursed

none there to complain

Excused are all ignorant

let my loss be their gain

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Jaded lasting tedium

beset with gloomy cape

More I try ridding off

seems stuck at nape

Tattered and misshapen

the vilely kind of garb

Root cause for despair

inviting many a barb

Donned inadvertently

as cover up sort drape

From all harsh realities

 when I sought escape

Ever since it stayed on

not even once removed

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There’s always a way back home.

Maybe no one told you

But cement and brick last a long time,

Even when neglected.

You can disappear for a year or ten

Then come back again, to the street,

And watch history repeat

As memories breathe through old concrete.

And maybe it’ll seem strange to meet,

After all it was there I learnt life can be like

Spoilt conjoined...

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I am scared.

Eye sweating, lip stinging scared.

An irregular pulsar in the overstuffed confusion of my chest offers a less than precise signal, two-two time minus one, again and then again. All inside chooses to rise in unison and grip my desiccated throat. My fingers hover, but I dare not move. The continuation of this vessel in the balance and yet I still wrestle with pride and a fear...

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`







news pa p e r s

lots of fluff-for-circumstance
wanting of substance


verbose kitty litter...
reflection of our day









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On the 18th of January 1981, 13 young people died in a fire in New Cross, South East London (a fourteenth committed suicide after losing so many friends). Just shy of thirty years on, these are the contemporary reflections of a man who was a seven year old boy at the time. Widely thought to have been a racially motivated attack, more recent advances in forensic technology have suggested o...

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