I journal my life in the form of poetry; I hope you are able to read and relate.
“A freeing to start,
a new beginning of me-
in this space, this time;
Hoping to spread my wings,
revealing colors of sublime;
feelings,
ones I’ve been sheltering. “
–butterfly affects
This is the first post on my new blog. I’m just getting this new blog going, so stay tuned for more in depth poetry. Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates.
Communicate with me;
So –why is it—
These restricted lines that blur the mind
One especially of mine
As being i do this all the time
So many perspectives–that lead rays of the artistic waves that make of
See
This distance stays–as the compassion craved ,runs away from—-
See–with me
A speaking to life–not an end but beginning of something other than—
See–
communicate with me;
Otherwise , need it be no blame–having i forget something as simple and plain
–this name
Communicate with me
So many signals gist to interfer–as a clearing of being too, something that could be “here”– but you?
My dear, communicate with me
Having a way of doing such, a way of being taking advantage of so much–
by– ” this means”
As a way that cannot stay as this interference continues to play
And me—i
See
Creative paths heading hour way.
“So make time, to day (to live)”
Mitchell, Tierra (ae)
2 Corinthians 4:7
Sticky Note From God ~07.28.21~
This love i find within me
–so present
A heart that burst of colors , so iridescent
;my luminous finding
This reason to be glee, this reason to cherish the feelings i have inside of me
Sensing this passion;
Having to hold to–a having to hold on to
i mean–&—to the account of
these (?)
as in, all of those unconditional words to count
A seemingly endless amount–
Of
–it’s passion i find within me
This love; a sense of feeling
A gift revealing —itself
This one –this same one i’hold inside of me
Concealing itself—
I’ll let that be the lie i tale as i seal it myself
—this gift—
Endless motions of emotions fufilling , this thrift
I’d rather not have to bargain for–;declaring
this love i find within me–its destined–this iridescent–
All of those unconditionals that keep me of glee
—
“I would have never known i’d find this love–it’s passion with/in/beside OF me”
Mitchell, Tierra (ae)
ily2
The assumptions made..the make of
This me
A said hidden past
This great riddance–i lead a leave
To dearly depart
These assumptions–the make of
this dreadful peace of me
This puzzle i reek of
Its stench–not easy to take
Oh–me–this make
The assumptions of
Those that i break
—
This give within a take
all of those i made of
Departing–from me
“Just Leave“
Mitchell, Tierra (ae), ok?
I felt the lack
As these words that usually come so easy now leave me in slack
This distilled mind
Failing at its expression–its prose leading me one way –a poems misdirection
This stunned reception–(reflection) ?
—-
“I swear to Bob Dillan, I can write about anything–in any way. This closed mind is so absent to the accent of art and its eccentric spirit. So how would i make of it? I question my writings as i continue with this ‘froze’. nothing coming naturally to mind except the vibe to flow a line as ‘rappers’ do–so in turn i PROSE; this unusual poetry of mine as a nothing sums up to define; these absent words.”
Im not a rapper–i Poet:
Enjoying the art of literature without the need to entertain or seek the attention of—-these ill mannered “beings”
-Mitchell, Tierra (ae)
Make a habit of it
I repeat the days
As “do something different” plays
I could only believe in short
His story,
Make a habit of it
The chanting stays,
Keeping a calm sense of each page
Feet touching the ground
“I fell upon this draft as i sought the inspiration to write; of course the inspiration is there but the mind just isn’t”
I hope i don’t make a habit of this.
Mitchell, Tierra (ae)
Ok so here i go again
Inventing by venting on this page
These internal emotions fill with–
Let’s reference more to what’s on this page
—-
Unsettling, this—need for a reflection
This internal “Miss” looking in as a need of direction
One who is unsure of self
So, “what would you do if….?”
All these extraordinary theories as if I were somebody else…maybe “her”?
—
Conclusive:
I am slow to realize being indigenous is not understood. It’s mocked–the tradition, gender– life. All those who have read “history” books will claim to understand. This said, panic–reaction to be more alike, to “get to know”, will make one feel like a personal science project.
Imagine that–could it be possible to have an open mind to such?
–asking for self; as I am majority of the time thinking for this said, someone else.
This inability –to do things because of…
they’re stubborn and lack the mental capacity to adjust—
this agitation of mine–constant hackings of my mind
Seeking for answers you’ve received—
The answers you seek I’ve given…don’t be a burden by trying to live your life through me.
“Take your own chances; grow to know yourself“
Mitchell, Tierra (ae)
It was just in that moment
The idea of having a family–
Nothing being perfect but yet
this perfection mocked for the sake of being ill
This intent—-coming from
Not being good enough, yet again
So i sat in wonder
Rain now falling from the sky
Keeping my head held high
It was just in that moment—-
A voice sang to remind me that
—–It was because that family is mine;
Assurance that everything would be fine.
“I miss you all“
–Mitchell, Tierra (ae)
[place Family Portrait here]
Sitting with need to pee, i thirst
This dry mouth
tired —
(So inappropriate.)
Wondering of all the things on my mind
— the thoughts and creativity i just can’t find
In this moment–
I wonder what happened to the girl i crushed
I wonder what happened to the passion , the trust
I wonder what happened to–what is the word i’m thinking of?
–this avoidance
This distance i keep to void this–break
The continuous breaking of pieces, so ugly
This —“love“‘ly
Heart i mined–at least for keeping a sake
This me–the Pride you see
Wandering;
do you see–
I wonder too, of all the things that got a way from me.
Knowing what we want; going for what we can have. All things are possible–however, we make it that way. So if anything ever stops, it may have never been pursued. If anything ever stops, it may be whatever caused it to. If nothing ever stops–it must have never been intended to.
Speaking for self: a need for something, over powers all.
Mitchell,Tierra(ae)
It feels like yesterday–this waking up as
—
Whatever it is made up of(ass)
And/so i’ll make up of,
all of the distant sighs –the cries that blister from my heels
These bubbles
Ill walk on , as the troubled skies gray of pain
Laying in this bed of rain; this reign
Drenched by the stench of each stain
—-
It felt like yesterday; waking up as
Who knew i would survive the day
“It was actually night.”
Mitchell, Tierra (ae)
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