I don’t see myself as white nor brown

Maybe muddled in-between somehow

I can be good and or bad simultaneously

But only if you really know what I mean

And I’ll never stay where I’m not wanted

Unless I’m wanted for the wrong reasons

I’m just an outlaw from life’s normalcy

Eccentric energy flows in my bloodstream     

And I’m fool enough to be caught by love

But know upfront lust will never be enough   

I come as true as the North Star can shine

So long as you keep me fixed in your eyes      

But if your eyes stray off to some other place

I’ll blend into darkness… before you can blink  


Poet of the Light © 2023

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6-4-23 Personal reflections

While reading someone else’s blog today I couldn’t help but feel a connection between what I was inferring in-between their lines and recalling my own past lifetime of errors and or miscalculations. Albeit this blogger is a younger intelligent woman who seems to have an earnest heart but will from time to time expresses some of her days in words, perhaps to get feedback from the world at large, peer affirmation, and or maintain her sense of balance. Nonetheless, it became a prompt.

In becoming the version of who we want to be seen as to others, we often slip out of our authenticity and into a subjugating role(s) without noticing we traded off ourselves for appeasing relationships to others. We’re too afraid to be seen as vulnerable or lacking in some aspect that others might not like about our true selves. We hide our fraudulent faces by creating or leading others in something we’ve learned to hide inside, like self-promoting experts.

In a fashionable life (often transactional ones) we avoid what we know to be a distasteful truth as we opt instead to face towards the distractions in our lives to hide from that ugly truth, which will later be proven to be no different than drinking life away by the glass or taking compensating drugs, both of which over time they lose their efficacy, only to return us to our original struggle and our need to hide from our reality. And we’ll once again seek to find some newer distractive replacements until we’ve lost our mind or get lost inside someone else’s life choice completely.

Try for a few moments to place your real needs ahead of your current martyring responsibilities by identifying honestly what important needs are missing- to yourself in a clear convincing and authentic voice. But only if you can be attentive enough to listen for once.  

Then grab that imaginary bitch’s broom and sweep out the broken eggshells on the floor. Sit the most important people in your life down and express without regrets that you need to be more than a participant shadow in your own presumed life.

Explain what changes you need to achieve personal fulfillment in your life’s mission. Justify why looking in the mirror and finding the real you is more important than finding who time has slipped you into for everyone concerned.

Then lead the changes in your life or… ignore what’s wrong and return to the daily grindstone and murmur a slow death.

As for me, I’m learning, somewhat, one of the hardest things to do in my life is to take care of only myself after taking care of so many others previously. It takes daily effort to unwind who I once was before, in part because that person is no longer required, needed, or wanted after changing in order for me to reconnect with my lost authentic self and true purpose.


Poet of the Light © 2023

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We become pigeonholed by default

As loved ones, liken semi-survivors

And the battle affected no one but us  

Their absence will be present forever

Emptiness develops into our normal

We’ve been collaterally recalibrated 

Hesitation converts into our newness

Up is down, right is simply improper

Life will manifest whatever it wants  

Our memories depict us as an imposter       

We’ll drift from over the course of time

Time will pay us no mind or any care          

We’ll grin and bear it to fake each day  

As loving exceptionalist… who grieve     


Poet of the Light © 2023

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Vanishing days keep me smaller

Like a child that’s wandered off

I look around feeling a bit helpless  

As I become aware of the eeriness

And I realize you’re the one gone

I’m without a warm hand to grasp

While everything still looks familiar

Yet things also seem to be different

I don’t feel comfort here- like before           

I query if this is an alternate reality       

If so, how do I get back to being me  

Have I missed a door or wormhole    

Am I plunging into a comatic rest  

Freefall into an absent … abstractness


Poet of the Light ©2023

Photo by Abdullah Ghatasheh on Pexels.com


There have been such experiences

When others caught my attention

As they seemed a bit time-warped

Staring off to a space of emptiness

Fixated or like stalled in a trance

So, I recall those transient events

To reassess if something happened

Perhaps some traumatic incident    

Now that I reside- from time to time  

Within my own distinctive lacuna     

Far removed from oneself– spatially

Perhaps a soul-triage way of Grace    

To let our inner wounds heal safely

Before reengaging life’s … cruelty


Poet of the Light © 2023

Internal waves

The world at large and closeness both

Have had sway and or some influences

Since my birth, and up until my revolts

Not to say my efforts weren’t quashed

Many of them were in my younger years

And while the above was true, it was also

Limited in so far as shaping who I am

I posit real currents lay beneath a surface

Intensely at work shapeshifting life itself

No- I’ll not cede those with some advantage

Had any meaningful part of my tutelage

I was born with my own preset nature

Now when the waves snap and splatter

It’s because I will them… for my pleasure


Poet of the Light © 2023

Poetic justice

Reductionists proffer their smug simplistic rhetoric of another’s plight

In a fiery harsh criticism as if they’re some cum laude erudite

Albeit its merely a defense ploy to hide the fact their true gained knowledge

Stems from nothing but anecdotal micro-interpretation of professionals

Enough time, practice, and voila! narcissism has manifested its mask

From under a cold and calculating cloak lacking empathy and a conscience

In a world created parenthetically for picking and leaving their raw casualties

I was chosen repeatedly while still a child at best, but nonetheless- scarred        

As time passed, I grew a larger shadow but not the madness they had

I gained greater knowledge but kept it protected for safekeeping, just in case

And now, here am I- revealing the inner me they’ll never read nor care  

But I care, I’ve always cared and still do deeply, however fruitless

I’ve learned to circumvent their intimidating prowess… with the truth


Poet of the Light © 2023

Photo by Jeswin Thomas on Pexels.com

Déjà vu

Stale; is an understatement

Every predawn feels the same

Like any repetitive Wednesday

Things are half done and yet

Everything else is unfinished

Making it hard to find balance

Dressed in the same monotony

Uncaring to fake daily smiles

Let alone glance at a passerby     

By whose standards do I live

When life has lost its motives     

The way freshness does flavor

The way lives are lost to death        

The way love feels lost… forever


Poet of the Light © 2023

Photo by Marcelo Moreira on Pexels.com


My centric self has noticeably lost its normal bearings

And I find myself here- near middle of what is and what was

I know mentally I do waffle between begotten and loss

Not intentionally but my heart or mind wanders off and it does happen

Like an indistinguishable wall between fresh water and the sea salt

We can idiotically breach similarities while distracted by happenstance

Death for some of us can be so dislodging that life at best appears to be queerest

 Albeit I can’t declare where I find myself now is an actual place

It does seem to be an internalized space of sorts within one’s thoughts

Nonetheless, it’s a plane within all of time between now and my yesterday’s             

This begs the question; is this occurrence why we innately create our memories

To help keep us lost souls somewhat between those rails of human reality        

As we concurrently try to peek over edges of tomorrow for indecipherable answers  

Ups and downs aren’t bad, but disquieting arises in life’s… blinding curves


Poet of the Light © 2023


The storm passed on, but that untold collateral is yet to be recovered  

A vital part of me is dwindling or just dissipating away like life itself

I’m best by my belief that one day yet, you’ll reach out to me somehow

You’ll appear, we’ll chat however brief but enough to affirm my waits   

Yet, you haven’t. Perhaps it’s something of my past you can’t get past

I just don’t know at this point, or I’m being tested to see if my love fails

Oh, if anything in my life was consistent, it was always my eternal love

Once it bloomed it was never undone nor forgotten deep within my heart        

I’ve been riddled with abuse or misunderstandment by others, I still love         

Love can’t exist without spouting from the grace of heavenly forgiveness    

How, thirsty I’ve become in this desolate subsistence self as a wilderness       

I’d like to pretend I heard your voice, but I’d know foolishness isn’t truth

And I look in the most obvious places in hopes of finding a sign I missed      

Only to confirm, I’ve disappointedly found nothing left…outside myself


Poet of the Light © 2023

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