Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’

Superhero © (draft)

Being myself makes people nervous, apparently.

Concerned about health, well-being,

and the general direction of society.

While I appreciate some thoughts I discard others,

Can’t get caught up in what or who scares you because

Monsters that live in your closet once lived under my bed too.

If you don’t accept it, let’s dissect it,

What are monsters anyway?

They reflect fears, really aren’t as bad as you think,

So when you feel all hell is breaking loose

Look me up, I’ll be coming to the rescue.

Reminding the only thing to fear is fear itself

That we create.

We control thoughts, desires, direction,

Every aspect of our being.

So don’t sell yourself short or underestimate your creator.

We were made to rule our world with our power.

 

© Natasha Ramsey. All Rights Reserved

 

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Thank you to everyone who support my writing! One of my poems which was written during the Baltimore “riots” has been accepted and published in Wordpeace, a literary journal to promote peace and justice! Check out “Brown Boy Infamy” here!

Natasha Hungover Poet on mic

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Any other writers out there have the following series of events occur (not necessarily in this order)?

1. Submit entries to magazines and literary journals, etc. and feel super proud of the accomplishment.

This is when you just know that your kickass essays, poetry, and short stories will grab the editor’s eye. He or she will be so blown away by your style, wit and story telling capability that you’ll be accepted for publishing.

2. Become extremely optimistic about being accepted in the writing world.

This is where you plan on updating your bio to reflect your newly accepted submissions. You’ll also start thinking calling everyone you know to tell them your work has been accepted for publishing but then realize you’ll have to them actually talk to them after the initial announcement, so you decide you’ll text them instead.

3. Begin feeling nothing but absolute fear and dread in the pit of your belly about being rejected.

This is where you check the submissions webpages like a junkie. When that doesn’t work as quickly as you’d like, you learn all of the computer shortcuts to refresh a webpage and them execute them repeatedly hoping to see the submission status change from, “In progress” to “Accepted” after about the fifteenth refreshed page appears. Then, when the status doesn’t change, you realize that this is potentially (yet another!) rejection and you now begin feeling a bout of belly bubble angst aka diarrhea coming on!

No?

Yeah, me neither…

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All credit and photo rights to Peanuts®

I can’t be all things to everyone
Not even to self.
Despair entrenched in bone, in skin,
Fear and self deprecation become kin.
You are the beginning of my ending.

Copyrighted 2015
All Rights Reserved

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Be thankful.
For rain, snow, ice pellets (ice pellets?), and yes, even the warm, welcoming sunshine.
Without cold, wet elements we’d have forest fires, parched lands, droughts covering every productive farm
Leaving Mother earth desperate and barren.

If you believe beautiful weather is only sunny and warm
Don’t criticize those sloshing around,
Everything, including seasons turn.
Southern fruit can become bitter.
A forest fire can wipe out an existence.
Inhabitable lands shrink.
Appreciate all of nature
Not only when convenient.
Happiness is not recognized without suffering.

Copyright 2015. Natasha Ramsey

“This is what you shall do;
Love the earth and sun and the animals,
despise riches,
give alms to every one that asks,
stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others,
hate tyrants,
argue not concerning God,
have patience and indulgence toward the people,
take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men,
go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families,
read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life,
re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book,
dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.”

-Walt Whitman

Sometimes, okay, a lot of times I don’t like to admit that I have fears, worries and in many ways, I’m fragile. Why? I’m an artist. Yes, sometimes I get super sensitive (or at least what passes as “sensitive” these days) but then at other times, I go into my inner Buddhist child-self and become the most chill of people (again, another assessment of my self from others). Why? Because when I put pieces of myself out there, I admit that it hurts a little when critics and others pick it apart and while I’m not on the scale of most writers to have large numbers of critics, I have read and heard stuff about my writing that stings. Why does it get to me? I guess I’m sensitive about my shit.

“…

I’m living life on my terms.

Writing gives me wings

and a platform upon which

I preach my truth.

Writing is safe

Writing lets me vent,

There’s no judgement on paper.

Words matter so take a seat and be quiet.

The mic’s on and I’m feeling inspired.”

(excerpt from a newer piece of mine: 2014)

 

On that sensitive note, I recently connected with the song, “Fragile” by Tech N9ne (feat. Kendrick Lamar, MAYDAY and Kendall Morgan) for some reason. No, not because of the genre, or artists themselves because I’m not huge fans of any of them, I just happen to like some of their stuff from time to time…but…the feel, beat and lyrics…I felt it when Tech N9ne said, “I’m an artist and I’m sensitive about my shit”.

Check it out. What do you think?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IKs5OsT4dIY

Peace.