freedom from the storms would've come tomorrow
or maybe next week.
freedom from the thundering would've come next month,
or in 3....
but you just couldn't wait anymore.
but what you didn't know is that we were waiting
for freedom too, just like you.
and you thought we'd feel free without you
but we've never felt more trapped.
and just cuz i can't point out the
exact star in the sky that flickered out,
doesn't mean we didn't all notice that
midnight just got darker.
and it seems like the clouds are crying with us.
they are.
and i think the sky wants freedom too
because the winds keep blowing
as if they are trying to escape.
and cuz the clouds can't make up their mind...
rain-snow-hush.
rain-snow-hush.
rain-snow-hush.
the weather reflects your emotions
the things you've felt but that we've never seen until now.
you're an angel now so the weather doesn't hurt you anymore.
freedom was only 3 months to graduation and summer.
freedom was only 6 months till fall semester.
you're free from us and this world
but we've never felt you so close.
we told you "we see you" and though you didn't believe us,
we'll never look away now.
because we still see you as you reached the ultimate freedom.
we'll miss that star in the night sky that dimmed out
but we know the embers created a universe
too grand for human eyes to comprehend.
you taught us to always forget about the hail storms
and to always remember the sun.
you taught us to not only "see" the stars
but to know know each and every single one.
you reminded us that feeling trapped is no fun.
you reminded us that freedom and release need to come
in God's time...cuz less people are hurt that way.
i don't know what color your hair shimmered in summer
and i don't know when you hit your growth spurt
but i can "see you".
no, i can "feel you".
i can feel your spirit, and once i buy a telescope
i'll see that universe the embers created.
and when the roaring winds and pounding rains
make us feel trapped,
we'll remember you.
and remember how all you wanted was simply freedom.
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Friday, February 20, 2015
My White Converse
mornings when i wake up
i'm surrounded by shadows the colors of outer space.
the sky's midnight blue
and it's begging me to go back to bed.
but i carry on.
and later the amber reflections of the sun almost blind me.
just a typical day except the grass seems a bit more beige than emerald.
at school i notice shoes...
there goes the girl that wears pink flower printed flip-flops in winter.
those Jesus sandals everywhere.
the pimp who's so old school he rocks a new fresh pair of Jordan's everyday.
neon nikes. and navy vans.
and the rare chick that can rock wearing heels to school. S/o to Maddi Dean.
Then the girl who wears strappy sandals decked in gem stones
to stand out even just a little.
and the boy wearing black sneakers
trying his hardest to be unnoticed.
then i look down at my own shoes
trying to figure out the statements i make.
Then i realize my converse are too white, they look too new
cuz it looks weird to have blindingly bright shoes.
so i try to scruff 'em up a bit
but now they look too wrecked too soon.
i'm gonna buy new ones.
i never bought new converse so now mine are really trashed.
but every green grass stain reminds me of football games
and every grey stratch reminds me of all
the shoes that stomped on me at parties.
and all the black marks remind me of late night street adventures.
now i'm really not buying new chucks
cuz mine are stained with memories of friends and fun
and a reminder to when times seemed like death
but were really just breezy.
forget yearbooks cuz my converse are high school wrapped up in one object,
represents good ol' trends and good times.
times when i'd loose myself and find myself in paris.
times when i learned riemann sums and how to kiss boys.
times when i'd forget to be home by midnight
but remembered everyone who made a difference.
times when i felt too brown to hang with the white kids
and too white to hang with the brown kids.
this poem was supposed to be just about colors.
but it turned out to be about high school and white chuck taylors
and about the times when on typical days,
i thought the grass seemed more beige than emerald.
Places&People
So i've been thinking about cities well places
about the different places there are.
some people have never left their city or their town, their place.
and as much as you read or watch about cities or different places
you don't know them.
you don't really know them.
not until you've inhaled their air, not till you've strut down their streets,
not till the day you catch yourself prouncing "dog" the way they do,
or "creek" the way they do, or calling a group of people "ya'll".
Not until that day can you claim you've "been here" or "been there".
and i believe that.
So what makes Omaha different from Newark or
Philly different from Austin or Mesa?
it's not the air. it's not the streets, or the trees,
the buildings, or the places called home.
It's the people.
you might hate me for claiming that people are the biggest difference.
well maybe it is the air or the streets that make the people different sure...
But a place isn't a place until different people make it a place
and define it as a place. People define a place
and make a place what they want.
To Alicia Keys, New York's a concrete jungle where dreams are made of.
and i think Biggie Smalls said he's going going back back to Cali Cali.
and Fergie thinks Miami's saying "la la la la la".
so maybe it's Fergie that makes a place a place. i don;t know.
But i do believe we define places as much as they define us.
it's the ocean that makes us feel free.
it's the mountains that make us feel safe.
it's the skyscrapers that makes us feel like we can fly.
it;s the bridges that help us feel like when can connect.
it's the deserts that make us feel like adventurers.
it's the jungles that make us feel like explorers,
But people aren't people until different places make them people
and define them as people. Places define people
and make people who they are.
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