WOULD YOU JUDGE ME???? (POETRY)

Would you judge me if you knew who I used to be

Would you judge me if you knew all the things my mind said to me

Would you judge me if you knew about all the men

Sorry to disappoint you but I was born from sin

Would you judge me if you knew how much time I spent in jail

Would you judge me

***

Would you judge me if you knew I used to use drugs

I had to write it this way to give you a picture of how dark it really was

I know these are things that don’t tickle your ears

But Jesus loves me so much

But how much do you judgmental Christians really care

 

Would you judge me 

WHAT WAS (POETRY)

Was a love I couldn’t control

Washed up tears, aggressively stole

Running through trees

Rose bushes and oceans abound

Lost in time that had such a beautiful sound

Leave me to dream

Denial hates to be  found

Playing between the sheets, blankets, pillows and all

Hearing the voices but never once answering to its call

Please wake me from this forbidden craft

That hides itself fully

Behind religious mask

The lust and betrayal

Well, it’s really hard to tame

And it could never be the same

Because sensations knows my name

From past games

I know there are many ways to avoid

Such gut wrenching pain

Love is really powerful

And can drive the strongest king insane

Pleasurable pain

Strong enough to awaken the most forbidden sin

Love will stir your heart up

Take it back

Strengthen it

Only to begin the madness again

Put me back together

Because I’ve fallen apart

Razors

Daggers

And swords

Aiming straight for my heart

Protect me from this weapon

I choose to call love

And never trust the past

Because

It

Will

Always

Be

 

What was

 

DARK PLACES “VS” SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL ( RANDOM THOUGHTS)

8tracks radio | Something Beautiful (38 songs) | free and music playlist

Well bloggers, as some of you know I have some how shifted my writing from my past life of addiction to something very dark. My book Mental Notes http://www.amazon.com/Mental-Notes-ebook/dp/B005VX0WL8/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1353151329&sr=1-1&keywords=MENTAL+NOTES+BY+LATOYA+HARRIS was published last year and was my liberation. My mission was to expose this dirty disease called addiction and I think I did a great job at that. Then I got my heart broken while learning who I really am. What I mean is God was working on me and I interrupted His process and It brought up all sorts of issues from childhood. Things I thought I had buried a long time ago, rejection, abandonment, abuse, fear, fear of what, I don’t know. I got my heart broken this year and thus came this little girl I never realized I utilized so much https://mentalnotes1.wordpress.com/category/avatar-part-1/ I wrote her into my life and even named her My Avatar.

My first dark poem was “You will stay with me till the very end” https://mentalnotes1.wordpress.com/2012/07/24/you-will-stay-with-me-until-the-very-end/ This was the beginning of my heart break and this poem SCARED THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME! I asked myself, self,  WTF IS THIS CRAZY SHIT YOU JUST WROTE, LOL talking to myself as I sometimes do (: So, I have been stuck on the dark side every since and I am desperate to find my way back to Something Beautiful.

This years life lesson has been life changing. I am  still not certain how grateful I am for them  because it was and still is very painful, but boy, oh boy did I get it this time, the lesson. This is my second time having to repeat this lesson, but I finally got it, life is that way.

So bloggers my mission is to write Something Beautiful and I will!

This is a challenge to self, Something Beautiful 

Happy New Year, I wish you all the best of everything and I mean that!

THE BEST OF EVERYTHING, AND SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL

I FELT YOU BREATHING LAST NIGHT (POETRY)

I FELT YOU BREATHING LAST NIGHT

AND YOU WERE A THOUSAND MILES AWAY

YOU WERE NOT IN MY BED

OR IN THE NEXT ROOM

YOU WEREN’T AROUND THE CORNER

OR ON THE OTHER SIDE OF TOWN

YOU WERE A THOUSAND MILES AWAY

BUT YET

AND STILL

I FELT YOU BREATHING LAST NIGHT

Insomnia – Poetry W/Audio

https://soundcloud.com/mentalnotes-1/INSOMNIA -poetry

Finger tips and microchips dissect my random thoughts

While movies play obsessively of all that daddy taught

I’m here once a week tryn’a get the bugs out my head

But the only thing this quack does is prescribe another fuckin’ med

Bugaboos and daja vu’s taunt my twisted brain

Perplexing me and vexing me

Rip me out these fuckin’ chains

I shift my body loosely tryn’a pull back on the reins

But these voices keep on whispering

VOICES: You’re weird stupid and insane

Fully engulfed in this cryptic game

I can’t escape these awful memories

So  I try and write away the pain 

I lay there blamelessly

As he dissects my twisted mind

ME: Yea I know

As he looks ahead and says

DOCTOR: Were out of fuckin’ time

Finger tips and microchips dissect my twisted thoughts

While tapes play obsessively of all that daddy taught

Finger tips and microchips dissect my twisted thoughts

While tapes play obsessively of all that daddy taught

Finger tips and microchips dissect my twisted thoughts

While tapes play obsessively of all that daddy taught

Finger tips and microchips dissect my twisted thoughts

While tapes play obsessively of all that daddy taught

Finger tips and microchips dissect my twisted thoughts

While tapes play obsessively of all that daddy taught

Finger tips and microchips dissect my twisted thoughts

While tapes play obsessively of all that daddy taught

Finger tips and microchips dissect my twisted thoughts

While tapes play obsessively of all that daddy taught

Finger tips and microchips dissect my twisted thoughts

While tapes play obsessively of all that daddy taught

While tapes play obsessively of all that daddy taught

While tapes play obsessively of all that daddy taught

While tapes play obsessively of all that daddy taught

While tapes play obsessively of all that daddy taught

While tapes play obsessively of all that daddy taught

While tapes play obsessively of all that daddy taught

While tapes play obsessively of all that daddy taught

ME: Yea I know

DOCTOR: Were out of fuckin’ time

FEATURE POET (NTOZAKE SHANGE, “SORRY”)

one thing i don’t need is any more apologies
i got sorry greetin me at my front door
you can keep yrs i don’t know what to do wit em
they dont open doors or bring the sun back
they dont make me happy or get a mornin paper
didnt nobody stop usin my tears to wash cars
cuz a sorry
i am simply tired of collectin
i didnt know  i was so important toyou
i’m gonna haveta throw some away
i cant get to the clothes in my closet for alla the sorries
i’m gonna tack a sign to my door leave a message by the phone
‘if you called to say yr sorry
call somebody else
i dont use em anymore’
i let sorry/
didnt meanta/
& how cd i know abt that
take a walk down a dark & musty street in brooklyn
i’m gonna do exactly what i want to
& i wont be sorry for none of it
letta sorry soothe yr soul/
i’m gonna soothe mine
you were always inconsistent doin somethin & then bein sorry
beatin my heart to death talkin bout you sorry
well i will not call
i’m not goin to be nice
i will raise my voice
& scream
& holler
& break things
& race the engine
& tell all yr secrets bout yrself to yr face
& i will list in detail everyone of my wonderful lovers
& their ways
i will play oliver lake loud
& i wont be sorry for none of it
i loved you on purpose
i was open on purpose
i still crave vulnerability
& close talk
& i’m not even sorry bout you bein sorry
you can carry all the guilt & grime ya wanna just dont give it to me
i cant use another sorry
next time you should admit you’re mean/ low-down/ triflin/
& no count straight out
steada bein sorry alla the time enjoy bein yrself

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

Unser Ritt auf der Waiküre

Silvana und Ulf auf Weltreise

trailers-and-tea

mobile home living and lifestyle

hidden pilcrow

all the trinkets of the day

Daily Muse Poetry

One Poem Per Day

Philip Craddock Writing Portfolio

Daring to Dream: Short stories, poetry & songs. Next target: 300 Followers.

Let's talk

Vibe alone for a while

M.A.D. Works

A place to show my work

The Poetic Life 2.0

By Tracey L. Bhattarai

Not all who wander are lost

The daily adventures and mental meanderings of a teacher, writer, mother, and life long learner

tgrtranslation

Small wins for the discreetly radical environmentalist, in French and English

Michelle M. Welch

author of speculative fiction

Lost In Amberland

Welcome to my mind. Watch the first step, it's a doozy.

Lost and Finding Joy

Gratitude, Ask & Believe

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started