Being Me Ain't No Easy Feat | Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

POEM 158: BEING ME AIN'T NO EASY FEAT
Well, I'm no doubt quite shy
and I smile with a sigh.
I'm a poet, I freestyle
and sometimes I'd rather rhyme.

The thoughts I ruminate on in mind
makes me shudder.
Sometimes unholy
Sometimes holy
Sometimes they spill over
whenever my wandering feet meet a pebble
and I stumble head over hips
words rolling, one against the other
even when I don't mean them to spill.

Being me ain't no easy feat
I cringe at the sight of me
mirroring another to be.
I may not be perfect like you'll love me be
but I'm completely, perfectly, and incandescently
happy to be me.

Being me ain't no easy feat,
all my opinions and idiosyncrasies
might not tally with the popular ones,
the ones you uphold as absolute and divine,
well, they're fine by me.
It matters little whether or not you agree.

Being me ain't no easy feat,
when melancholy breathes on me
I break out into a random song
and run fingers on imaginary a keyboard
from the belly of my heart I moan and cry
and then look up and around
itching to hear an accompanying voice,
yours in harmonious melody
but what I hear is my own voice
flung back at me in ominous symphony.
And when no one sings along
I just stare off awkwardly
into space
and smile and say
"at least I still can sing
even when life stinks".

Poetry is my super power
I still sleep with drafts by my side
and I'm not ashamed
when mamma yells 'your bed's in disarray'
I still raise my shoulder high
and walk on a thin blue line
but I'm bemused and by myself
when folks crawl into my shell
with wishes to be like me.

Being me ain't no easy feat
don't desire to be like me.

#365DaysOfPoetry
#Pengician
#SSA

Comments

Fiction | The Tripod Effect

THE TRIPOD EFFECT The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the surrogate father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance a door- to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. "Good morning, madam. I've come to...." "Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in. "Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good. I've made a speciality of babies" "That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat" After a moment, she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?" "Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out!" "Bathtub, living room floo...

Letter To My Son

Dear Son Try to forget that nothing waits in the dark, raise your shoulder high wave off the frea and step into that lane. Won't you rather be gone in there than stay out here playing the coward? Get up now, son everyone falls. #Pengician #SSA http://bit.ly/2haEhoj

Floating - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

POEM 146: FLOATING Sometimes I feel like a piece of lead dropped in the ocean Sinking to rise no more Other times I feel like the Titanic riding on ocean waves but a hole of flaws bored by their quest for faults leaves me sinking to rise no more. But tonight, I feel like I'm just f l o a t i n g in a stream of your voice surrounded about by smiling stars touching my skin and caressing my heart. Though I fear sinking again like before I know you're waiting arms open in the ocean bed to engulf me in mindless kisses until my feet forget to flee until I make in you my home for nowhere, there is, to go when I'm floating in your love. (Dedicated to Endie) #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA

Jaachi Writes

Search This Blog