生活Seikatsu Collection Pt.2

you kept your kicks on for Yang. Without further ado , enjoy part 2 ❤

Four (4) Me

I have become more competent in being a sentient. The art of motion with an e. Because if you can not feel, how alive would you be? Gradual satisfaction of being part of humanity, a collective. Yes a series of mortals haunted by mortality. Interaction between factions(race). Trying to understand everything around us but ourselves. What does it mean to understand? Understanding is perception. Every mind is different, every mind perceives the universe differently, so what is understanding? Understanding is what you choose to interpret. So how do you perceive me? Enter my mind, ride my wavelength. Inverse your interpretation of me as I will inverse mine of you. To gain a better ‘understanding’ of what it means to be you. We’re just a small part of the bigger picture, know that. We’re irrelevant to the universe, space and time, don’t forget who wrote that. The idea of humans being important should be shortened. We need mindful renovations. But how can we educate people who cannot relate.Divided by the light spectrum because in the darkness we are one. Individuality, success in solitude. Distractions are good for a mind that knows no altitude.

This 1s 4 you/

This 1s 4 me.

I don’t forget who I do this writing thing four.

poetree

Psychopath II {THE STORY} (a collabo with Dead Soul)

A case , a sad one. (Rumor has it that Sadness can cure madness. Not in this case . Hatred grows like a dark rose passed on from generation to generation by seed. Carried by hearts that bleed). a note and earphones were found on a desk in a study, in the house in the middle at 3:30 pm. The note on the desk read :

TO THE FINDER OF THIS NOTE

“I StILL DON’T HAVE A FEAR OF DEATH, I PROBABLY SHOULD BECAUSE LIFE WILL LAST a CERTAIN length, AND THEN I LOSE MY BREATHE ,the PAIN HAS TAUGHT Me TO SHUT UP AND MAKE IT WORK, SIGNS OF MADNESS, 🙂 SMILES FROM EAR TO EAR, in THE DARKNESS MY soul WOULD LURK, VIBRATIONS MAKING CITATIONS To mY FEars,BLACKENING MY tears , I HaTe me, i AM MY oWn BULLY, I WISH I WAS BLACK SO MY HAIR WOULD NATURALLY BE CURLY, I DONT REALLY HAVE SKIN IN HERE IN MY head BUT I must be human surely , MOTHER HELp your ONLy child, YOUR onLy oNE, TEACH ME THAT FROM MY MIND i CANNOT RUN, nor CAN I CHASE THE LIGHT, because IN DARKNESS THERE IS NO SUCH THING aS sight. TEACH ME TO FIGHT, with mY DeMoNs IN THE NIGHT,

THIS iS not A SUICIDE nOte. BuT SOMEBODY hAs TO DiE .THIS WORLD WILL FEEL MY WRATH. I AM A PSYCHOPATH.”

Previously:

3 pm :

A scene of disbelief

*Reporter: ”family of five found dead in a house”

Suspects : two children who live on either side of the house ,their parents are not around during this time of day.

this is a canvas for a psychopath

thrilling blood splattered everywhere

like a ticking time bomb blew off

a body with no head found buried in the backyard

*they asked the neighbour who resides in the house on the left , “why is he buried?”

II the Boy Next door II: ”BilliE said i should bury a friend”

the Little Girl who lives on the right claims she was asleep but When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?

signs of a psychopath lead to the little girl

but how..how could she?

she’s merely 11 years old

i guess its LIFE

Demons come into the picture,

they thrive like me in the dark

bring fear into thy hearts

cordial at every chance

*Cop: ”this case should be closed”

*Another Cop: ”we have to fight for what is right”

ohh did i forget to mention

”it was a family of blacks”

case was dropped and went cold alongside their bodies

desecrated meaning to ”justice”

psychopath was never found

if you have an idea who it was..

Read it again

And then HMU

~ poetree & Dead Soul

Racial Paradox II (Being White)

I’m white but I can’t necessarily say that I’m proud because that will imply that I’m cocky about it but in reality I’m not. I don’t really agree with splitting humans into racial groups as it does influence our youths. The future of the next generation of humans. The future us ,is affected and infected in the process of what we do now. I want to end this race concept but I don’t know how. Due to my great grandfathers actions my race will always be subconsciously in their fears and many racial groups will remain subconsciously in tears. Sometimes I look at my skin and wonder what exactly am I in? Am I still human? And then I remember that I am and that I shouldn’t fall for society’s scam. Why should I be judged by history when now is the best time to make my own. But I can not change the world alone. Why can I not change the world for the better and the good? But because I am in this skin and I wasn’t raised in the hood it is assumed that at heart I am not good. I don’t believe in Hitler and his theory of perfection. I think us humans need our souls cleansed and we all need some kind of resurrection. Frankly with a subject of this manner , I am obsessed because we’re also oppressed. I was born and bred here in Africa but I don’t deserve the African title? Just because of my ancestors arrival. We’re all the same, don’t tell me you don’t see it to. You have to open your eyes for the sake of me and you. And the future of our kind , our human kind. But in truth nowadays it’s hard to be white. This isn’t life. What people still have in their minds isn’t right.

poetree (race, it’s a construct like everything else around us)

The End Never Comes

I sat here with Pain again, here in my room and he says he remembers my name. He said” you think you’re better now, but we both now since you and i first interacted life has never been the same”. And then it all came back like waves crashing against each other back to the beach, but that beach was not beautiful at all. It represented the fall of my emotional balance. Like something had spilt from my half-full chalice. There and then I felt like Alice all over again , felt as lost in wonder as her in my mental atlas. I felt it consume me again for the millionth time, this pain will everlast . I saw the light fade into dark within me like a fatal contrast. Pain started a laugh and he said “ you should see your face when you remember the past” I sat there as I asked myself, why , why do I always come back here into this inky emotion. Why do I keep myself swaying in this side to side motion and keep my mind in this notion? Then I remembered that even though Pain is inevitable, I chose to indulge in it as if i was taking a bath. A bath I didn’t desire probably one that was in fire. But then I saw in Pains eyes the many deaths he had caused. How many doors he had closed and how many sores he left open for emotional sickness to pour , out. He told me that I will resist in many ways , but he knows that when I’m alone he comes to comfort me on my own on many days. His definition of comfort must be different to mine but he was always there when other people weren’t. He helped me to grow and resurrect memories that were burnt. Pain was friends with life but death always persuaded Pain, into doing things he didn’t like. Pain spoke again and so my mind stopped racing although I think he knew what I was thinking because of how he was looking at me. He said “ I can either make you or break you, there’s no in between. I either help you to grow or I urge you to die. I could help you to fly but since you have chosen to fall , I will help you”. I looked at him with tears in my eyes and thoughts of suicide. He stared into mine and I felt the shaking in my soul. He knew that I didn’t want to grow. He disappeared and from the day on I was numb. Waiting for my end patiently but the end never comes.

poetree (inspired by pain)

do you understand a crush? (in collaboration with Unami Ngcobo)

Conversations with Chelsea reminded me of fields of green, next to the beach near the ocean, peaceful during the day, haunting me during my nights, she’s a glimpse of tranquil madness, fuck

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Chelsea : Frankly you remind me of the Ocean, in the night time though

poetree : lol, because of my tinted skin?

Chelsea : no, because of the state that you’re in . and i’m here, watching from the shore side

poetree : ye i guess you’re right. Frankly you remind me of the Moon

Chelsea : lol, I thought you would say a flower or something, why the moon?

poetree : because you control me. even through my high and low tides . i don’t see much of you as you disappear during the day, but even then i crash my waves in anticipation, for you i wish i could be Caucasian

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Verse:

i often get hurt

when she throws our love in the dirt

my past relationships feel like they were rehearsed

no wings

but intimacy is in the air like birds

and it’s hard to keep a girl in the suburbs

i was in a rush

busy chasing my gut

when I got my heart crushed

by a blonded crush

now I’m stuck

now I’m out of luck

and I’m still sitting here

trying to understand a crush

Unami Ngcobo

“poetree was at this club boys funeral”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Mongoloid/Caucasian/Negroid Summer (Photographer : Keanu Pillay)

poetreepoetreepoetree

I felt it again, the rays of the southern sun

Indulge in my skin

& making my pigment a stronger contrast

reminding me of the strive of my grandfathers

does anybody else find it peculiar that light makes you darker ?

(photographer:Keanu)

these are the questions I tend to ask

some answers I cannot grasp

maybe if I stare at the skies long enough

these eyes will turn blue

i’ll finally understand, what it means to be you.

(photographer:Keanu)

I squint as I turn my head to look at the sun, my eye begins to hurt, it’s sore

understanding my internal civil war

Its cold on the northern side

am I talking about races, maybe you decide

its not easy being human, wearing races like apparel

because some people may not like it, guess I’ll forever be the “Yellow Peril”

(photographer:Keanu)

like the sun i’m still hot like my food

I’m highly exotic, therapeutically addictive like narcotics

time is of the essence so I talk fast, energetic

im highly poetic

(photographer:Keanu)

DRuGs and HuGS (story)

I took a pill for how I feel. Felt my consciousness drift from what is real. Xans on the tip of my tongue,marijuana tucked inside my vans. All I’ve been doing is poppin, I don’t think I’ll ever be stopping. I have this feeling, and eats me alive. An oceanic , deep and blue emotion, they will watch me dive. Or fall into my demise. Don’t act surprised when I jump off a cliff or a roof. It will be your fault society, I will leave a suicide note as proof. Proof that I was killed by you and not the drugs that made me hop off in the first place. I will die there, decomposing, my face becoming one with the sand. And one with the roots, but let’s get back to the task at hand. The drugs give me a hug that people failed to give me, although they are a sin. I fell in love with the “mary” but I’m still hooked up on heroine. With the needle in my veins, felt the pain slowly disintegrate within my brain. Losing sight , everything looks blurry. Ambulance rushing me to the hospital in a hurry. Im back from the asylum,I’m still snorting on the ‘caine just to keep a brother sane. And yes I’ll have a drink, watch me drown and watch me sink, as I blink, my sight is turning into pink. I guess I’m passed cloud nine, I’m depressed, no I’m fine, I’ll keep sippin’ on the wine , state of mind is so divine. My friends are telling me that I should find another hobby, I took another pill at the party, screaming “Mama I’m sorry”. I felt my feet lift of the ground like I was floating. Next thing I knew, I was on a bed , looking at this girl with her legs wide open. Man I have to quite smoking. I’m addicted , and I ain’t joking. A friend passes me the blunt, and I forget what I was saying while I’m inhaling. I should have listened and now my lungs are failing. But I’m still laughing like there’s no tomorrow , I am happy, they help me maintain. Sometimes I hope to take them and never wake up again. I’m no longer scared of death, or losing my breathe. The next Saturday, as I lean on my wall sippin’ on codeine ,my friends sat in my living room, as we had some drugs to feel numb. Man, was I dumb. Because little did I know that I was smoking my last herb, before I kicked the kerb. I remember thinking I’m dead inside as I closed my eyes. To those of you who know me, I’ll catch you on the other side.

poetree (KOD)

Oceans

She says she wants to follow me to the end of the oceans,on these lonely nights, and I tell her no baby you can’t, she tried to keep speaking but I stop her in motion. I told her baby,the ocean is dark in the night time, you can’t tell the horizon from the sky. They become one and that’s when things become undone. she asked me , wait, are you the ocean or the sky? I said that depends, d’you sink into me or d’you feel free like you could fly? She looked at me then she sighed. She said why do you have to be so complicated? , I told her because I’m used to goodbyes. I’m used to waking up to cry , because people won’t be honest with me, they’d rather lie. I’m used to the feeling of wanting to die, in fact it’s what I’m needing. I’m broken-hearted, in fact we all are because all our hearts are bleeding. I feel like it’s a punishment to be down here on earth , almost like a test or a learning experience. What I am here to do is express my poetic genius to who ever might need it. She smiles and speaks, are you the earth this time or?, I say Nah baby all im doing now is metaphorically speaking about how my soul is weeping. She said okay I guess I’ll settle for just a kiss. I said no, because I know what just a kiss does to a soul like mine, it opens doors, for you and for me to something in me or in you.Doors I might regret letting you into. So excuse me if i look into your eyes that are blue like the ocean you speak off, the ocean that turns pitch black, when it gets dark, how do I know you won’t switch up on me like you do when the sun comes up or when the moon shines. When you leave me , where will I go? She said but I think I love you, I said yeah well keep thinking, tell me when you know.

She smiled.

poetreepoetreepoetree

FUTUR {2064}

(a collaboration with ayoungpoetsmind)

Mind expansion, in my intellectual mansion. Lonely.In my mind, yes but I am not free, need to start making my own sanctions. Punish me for being me. Wait, my mind is not a mansion, it is a station. With me standing on the sides of the train tracks, trying to catch my train of thought. It’s too fast and I can’t, but I hope the reader can climb aboard. Take you to an odd future. “she’s in love with poetree not me” + that Kamasutra. But for real, ride the express, Ay I, know we’re able to sync our minds into A.I. , I must say I, saw it coming. Like the future, I see em. The only tree I see nowadays is in a museum. Virtual is my reality, can’t remember the last time i saw a real face. Factories around the corner of my place. Watched through the cameras in my room. Everybody nowadays is a smoker, inhaling all these fumes. But that’s okay because we’re never going to die, we’re in the A.I. frozen in time.poetreepoetreepoetree

1 step forward. 2 steps back. Advancements – something we cannot simply retract. Humility – something we forget to enact. The fragility of life is a forgotten fact. As we die more than we live. Pray , but forget to believe. Stay in relationships that burn us like fire , because we’re too fixated on the warmth. Hasn’t life turned into summer winds. Dangerous , and unexpected. Fleeting , but underrated. Something that is postponed yet blatant , if only we could love as often as we say it. Would we then be able to understand that – love should not destroy but keep broken people intact. I’m tired of watching us creating fumes and ripping moons, trying to salvage the sky creating wounds and forgetting to tell our boys that its okay to cry. What have we gained from pulling each other apart , besides simultaneously rehearsing the abandonment of heart. When will caring become an integral part of a life that should be less pain and more art. ayoungpoetsmind

Slavery

There goes my head again, racing. Exceeding its peers gradually pacing past any insecurities it’s facing. There it goes again like it’s accustomed to time traveling .Read with me as I show you some of the things that go through it , just watch it unraveling. But then again it’s limited and chained so that it doesn’t reach it’s potential. So is it a slave ?but to who? To God ? I don’t find this coincidental. But then again in theory we’re all trying to be God. We’re all so scared of the afterlife that we make the life we’re living now , hard. So my theory is half-correct , if only I could collect enough information that even God would reject. We keep bettering our health and ways of living so that we could live forever. We’re indirectly trying to make ourselves immortal. You’ve entered my mind into a different portal but I shall continue. To ask all the questions you couldn’t but always had in you. We’re all trying to escape our creator. Because we’re afraid. If God is everything and everything is God. Aren’t we God too? And if we are trying to metaphorically run away from God does it mean he is trying to run away from himself? I ask to many questions and I know that many who read this will probably divert their attention. But I can’t help my curiosity, maybe I’m just moving on different vibrations and a different velocity. I don’t think we’re slaves to God because he clearly is against it. But I do think we’re slaves to ourselves. To the things we create. Our technologies,cell-phones, lust and power and a slave to a love that tends to devour. A love that is sour. Could it mean God is a slave to us as well because we are his creations? These are the type of problems we should be solving , not separating ourselves into different nations. We’re to busy starting wars and adding unnecessary complications when life is based of simplification. We’re all one with the Universe. I think being human is more a blessing than a curse. You get to experience what it is to be hurt. In most cases you get further from God as you grow older. But I feel like since these thoughts have come into my head I’ve never felt closer. To him. But then again all of these thoughts could be a sin. But how can they be, when he is me and I am him.

poetree

i hope you’re perception of at least certain things has changed, after 20 poems I imagine it should have. I hope I have tackled all I said I would and mostly I hope you liked it. An intellectual creation.

This excerpt was written over a period of 8 months.

Done now;)

Thank you for reading.

Colors Chapbook

生活Seikatsu Collection

Welcome to ;

The 生活Seikatsu Collection

It is one that doesn’t aim to tackle one social issue, but many at the same time. The word Seikatsu is a concept in itself. Seikatsu is the conscious and non-submissive activity of ordinary people in shaping their daily lives. A theory of society in Japan. Basically I wanna shake up that conscious and non-submissive activity of the people, to renovate it, in other words renovate our society.In its most basic form: Seikatsu means Life. A mixture of bad and good, yin & yang.

Some of the issues I tackle include race(a lot of that), unemployment and the education system, sex, sexuality, women and their worth, drugs, mental illness, love & hate, depression ,sadness and anxiety, and shit about me.

i hope it fucks w your head , like it did with mine : ( enjoy

STARBOY

Traveling through space and time. Trying to figure out the next word that rhymes. Because I’m a poet, a creative. Lost in my moods, fairly sedated and I hate it. I’m a native to the universe in me. Look at me now, flying and stargazing. Don’t feel the cold, because my soul is blazing. Riding on shooting stars, fumbled by the planet mars. I see myself in these bars. Drifting in a cage through space and the galaxy. Kept in here by myself, blooming in the flowerpot on your top shelf. Move. Groove. Feel the universes motions, they feel smooth. I already wrote about Nibiru and how it’s coming. Yet nobodies runnin. We’re all just standing still, as if we have time to kill. Never mind about Planet X, I’m just waiting for what’s next.Zoom. Bloom. Can’t even sleep inside my room because in here I face my doom. Ouuu. Blue. Like what I feel for you. Hope you feel it too. lol. I’m a star boy with endless possibilities. Questioning democracies across these seas. Jeez. Breathe. Meteors give my spirit rest and ease. Here in space I do what I please. I see my end but I keep stalling. I STILL HAVE THIS DREAM WHERE I KEEP

poetreepoetreepoetree

Psychopath

I TALKED TO THESE WALLS AS IF THEY COULD TALK BACK LIKE A PSYCHOPATH. I REALISED I WAS CRAZY WHEN I THOUGHT TO MYSELF,” THIS WORLD WILL FEEL MY WRATH!” But MAYBE it’s JUST THAT THIS DEPRESSION AND these SUICIDAL THOUGHTS HAUNT MY INTELLECTUAL BEING,THUS CAUSING SOME AGGRESSION,and blindness THROUGH SEEING. BUT IM CONFUSED! so ITS NOTHING NEW, wait,MY THERAPISTS TELL ME I QUALIFY FOR PSYCHIATRIC TREATMENT, but I told em TO LEAVE IT. SUCKING ON MY YO GETTA , I still DREAM OF MAKING IT TO COACHELLA. TO GET BETTER, at THE CRAFT, AND TO NOT DROWN IN MY THOUGHTS, I SHOULD ASK NOAH FOR SOME TIPS ON HOW TO BUILD A RAFT, so one DAY I CAN BUILD AN ARK, TO TRAVEL THE OCEANS IN MY MIND,alone IN THE DARK. poetree poetree poetree

Racial Paradox (Being Black)

I’m black but I don’t want to say I’m proud because that would imply that I’m cocky about it when I’m actually not. I don’t want to sound like I’m favouring a race because life has a better taste when everybody’s happy and savouring. Savouring it’s creative juices. Unlocking your mind and figuring out all its uses. I won’t let anybody tie me down mentally or physically, that I refuse. They did the same thing to my grand mother while she was a slave and constantly abused. The problem with black people is that we walk around with a fuse , waiting for other racial groups to accuse. I wear my skin colour and and I’m not ashamed of it either, but sometimes I take a step back because I feel like I need a breather. To take a break and to hear all that black people say. We used to fight for liberation but nowadays it’s like we’ve started our own powerful nation to fight against the Caucasians. I know some black folk see it too. We’ve changed history as humans , I just hope that we can see it through. Be careful of differences, they can either beat you and defeat you. Or they can lead you. Lead us to the infinity and beyond. Beyond the astral pond. I’m not black I’m human. I still hope this art takes me to Coachella. I also want to change the world around me, like a second Nelson Mandela. We should embrace our diversity and not enslave any more lives. We should be the generation that is remembered in future times. The youth who spoke the truth and destroyed all kinds of discrimination . Again , I’m not black nor white nor Indian not even Asian. I’m as human as can be. We should set ourselves free from what we can see. Because a man who is blind can see that we’re all from the same kind.

poetree (race is paradoxic and toxic)

A Dance With The Devil

Left.Right.Left.Right. I felt my spine shiver as he told me how to sell my soul to him in the night. I felt my hands slowly incinerate as I held his hand and shoulder, then we started to levitate. We were in the air, but we were upside down, so my smile looked like a frown, He whispered in my ear, I heard the cry’s and screams of a thousand souls shouting out of fear. But I also heard a voice and it said you have a choice. Choose me or choose God, while we were swaying in gentle motion. I now realised that I was dealing with an entity that was lethal. I was dancing with pure evil.

poetreepoetreepoetree

I got this paranoia in my brain feel like the void ain’t void, its just pain. Woman hit me up? Think not .i’m way to stuck up in my ways. Things just have to change no one can stay the same. I just milli rock ,the devil does the nae nae. Wake up every morning,pour a cup again. Sleepless nights,trying to fight. The devil got me by my neck. Thinking of suicide just to be born again.

How many lies I heard ,I never ever did you dirty. Guess it will be this way until I’m 130.i always knew I’d be a great it’s just some things that got me down. I just dance with the devil. He’s gon’ dance me to the ground.

S.Everteen

ANXIETYSXCIETY.suicidehill

Loverboys : Views {in collaboration with IceD heaRt}

I was asked to write about love again,how I see it, and who better to write it with then a heart frozen in time, IceD heaRt.

When ever I think about love I think about pain, like they go hand in hand , kicking their feet through the sand near the ocean that is me. When ever I think of love , I think of her, and how she’s happy without me, how I’m just a memory to her now, a distant silhouette I bet. Somebody she used to know, lately I’m just a bro. I also think about how she was my best friend, how we fell in love in such an innocent way,somebody I confided to, the laughs and cries we shared ,man, some genuine emotion and a contentious feeling. When I think of pain I think of him.How she’s happier with him. How they’re making memories they will keep forever, how he’s more than just a bro. How he’s her best friend, how they’re falling for each other everyday. How they confide in each other, and about the cries and laughs they will come across. How they share a genuine connection and true love.

But I love her enough to let her go, to let her be happy even if it isn’t with me. And so I watch my love and my pain walk hand in hand kicking gently on the sand, near me while I watch and sigh, as my waves crash and I slowly die.

poetreepoetreepoetree

*This is a letter…*

It’s getting harder and harder to control this urge…

I’m tired…

I’m done…

I can’t be living in a constant war zone, where I’m not even allowed to take a breath. Where I can’t even close my eyes because my mind creates the trauma that eats at my heart…

You don’t even see it

The abuse…

The pain…

That I’m suffering through, with only my heart, brain and soul existance keeping me here…

I’m tired…

I’m done…

I shouldn’t be dealing with this, I might look the part of someone higher than me and I might portray myself to almost be there, but you should know that I’m still learning to get to that level, I’m still learning how to take pain and convert it…

But no… You… Don’t… Seem… To get it!!!

I didn’t expect this from you, the one who knows my strengths, my weaknesses, my equalities…

The one I thought by now would understand that I can’t do it anymore… I can’t walk outside my own comfort zone without taking all the pain and darkness that kept me inside it… They follow me now, trailing my every step. Like a shadow digging itself deep into my soul, turning it into the black you made white…

I’ve never known so much pain…

I’ve never known so much trauma…

I’ve never known so much anger…

You were surposed to be the one that takes over from me… The one that didn’t do anything but love me…

The war of the soul, heart and mind never ending, a paradox of old never turning new…

~IceDHeaRt~poetry~( never beating, never moving forward… Only frozen in time)

SWAY

Sometimes i wish that i could leave somethings undiscovered,like the truth. Because it’s not always what I should seek,especially in my youth. I have a life to live. I still have time to show the world what I can give. Surpassed my human peers, a super intellectual being, I’m passed the boundaries of just seeing, because I came and I saw. I never forget who I do this writing thing for. For the reader, yes, but for me, to test my perception of reality and my brains theories of actuality. Because if I’m able to combine what is real with my imagination, what’s stopping me from saving all the nations, to make simple what you see as complications. To combine the heart and mind. I guess that’s why i’m spiritually awoken, so now and then I can wake up look at my chest to see if my hearts still broken and if my mind’s still open. What does it mean to live 60 years in 16 years. It means death is round the corner. Wish I could slow down time, so I don’t die a loner. But sometimes I dread everyday , I really want to go to away. My mother tells me to pray, but mama I don’t really want to stay , I’ll just sit here and decay while I sway.

poetree (BOYS DO CRY)

SeX with mY hEaRt {In Collaboration With uncensoredjuleo}

Mama I lost it, yes my mind but now also my “virginity”, I let him into me. I stared at her as her facial expression changes as if she’s imagining what he did to me in our intimacy. But I let him in, I made myself vulnerable to his penetration, I fell hard, and I’m still falling, with no hesitation. But he broke me, not into two because a million memories, is a million pieces of me and you. Lost in his eyes , I sighed. Continuously. It reminded me of all the times I cried because of him, so vigorously. I let out a scream, as I reach the edge, the summit, the peak, my climax. He slows down, to check if I’m still intact. This is when he tries to get me back when I don’t want him anymore, he didn’t love me in fact. But it felt good, to feel something because before him I felt nothing. Numb. I don’t know if that good feeling is because he was now removing my vest, climbing up the contours of my breasts.

But with every broken breath I took, it seemed he took it in till I was left with nothing because he knew I’d come crawling back for it. He did this with no mercy because he knew eventually, I’d have to submit. He took not to give, I gave not knowing I was selling myself to the devil. The pain was the type which would tear you apart upon an unexplainable level. Mama did I tell you about the grin which fell upon his face when it all eventually ended. He said he was proud of what he called an “achievement”, knowing all the days which followed, I wouldve dreaded.

poetree&uncensoredjuleo

Jobless Employees

Stuck inside the paradox that the orthodox can interlock. Maybe it’s the result of human disfunction, it currently decides to block,all the great ideas until they eventually stop. I don’t want to stay in an office for long hours , 9 to 5. I don’t really crave attention, I don’t crave fame or people to know when I’ve arrived. Guess my mind is already a hive, so I know that with the right people I’ll be able to survive. Theories of the poverty and tales of the deprived. We’re all destined for greatness, can’t you see that it’s inscribed in your soul and in your mind. The best humans remain kind and the rest remain blind. Blind to the worlds current situation. Rich people becoming richer, it’s all a compilation that deteriorates a nation. It’s funny how happiness comes from a piece of paper. A paper with value yet has valueless qualities. Souls are now being sold for the same pieces of paper, I didn’t know that you could sell your entity. Your own identity. Quite honestly this poetry is not only my remedy but it’s also my enemy. How can I chase a career which is not particularly clear and even though I have fear I remember why I’m here. To change the world in itself. Because everybody needs help to help themselves. I’d rather pick a coffin rather than an office but I know that desperation breads a beast. I know that I’ll expand so then I’ll be happy being yeast. Even though a doctorate look good so do those business qualifications and working in helping solve problems in somebody’s account. I want to do something that really counts. To help people without worrying about the amount that they will pay me. I didn’t rescue myself it took several people to save me. With all the support that they gave me. But even after this I could be anything I want. But I know I can’t be everything at once . I still want to be a millionaire but one that is fair and one who actually cares. One who repairs society and someone who actually shares. I need not say I will never be a slave to the coin. If you believe in change you should join. It’s tiring to see so many unemployed. As if what they offer to the world is not enough, I feel annoyed. But I guess for many , money can always fill the void in an anthropoid.

poetree (rich people get richer)

A Female Piece {Illustrated By Luyanda}

I sometimes wonder if God created Adam first because he needed more time to perfect Eve. A 2.0 version of human anatomy. I am interested in the works of a female body, because I feel it is an art. I know that many will find my words irrelevant because of my teenage ‘maturity’ & intelligence. But I am an artist of the exquisite kind, so I keep every type of artistic ingenuity in mind. The thought process that must have been rendered to make this type of piece must have taken a million years at least. Godly in the sense. I admire the construct of a woman , not in a perverted way, in fact you should rearrange your train of thought in an inverted way. So that you can think without a filter.

The delicacy, the rare type of human factor that no one can see but feel. The type that you wonder , is it even real. See most woman don’t realize the power they have over men. Some do but don’t act because that would be a form of indirect blasphemy. Maybe that’s why God took time to perfect the female alchemy.

The ability to carry and take care of a human is a greater one opposing to being able to make one. Therefore you don’t realize the power that , that pussy holds. Even if you don’t use it, it’s still more valuable than pieces of solid gold. And I mean that in the most respectful and justified way. I can faintly remember the moments with my mother when I use to breast feed. Little did I know that one day my heart would bleed for a female , or one day that I would lead . Lead myself into an odyssey of wonder even if my hearts torn. The confusion.I realize it all started from a woman and from the second I was born. Or the second I was created like an art and if God created me then I believe that I was drawn.

poetree (ILLUSTRATIONS: Luyanda)

Nibiru

There we go again , acting like we could predict our doom. Because us humans think we’re stating facts when we just assume. Assume that we know what’s going on. We don’t and we never will. I mean we’re clueless beyond this planet,and we’re naive but still… why is it so hard to admit that we just don’t know. I think I’ve expanded from being human so I know that I could go. To any place in the universe because I am able to harness the flow. But back to the subject that I’ve been meaning to address. Back to the feelings I’ve been meaning to express. We create boundaries for ourselves and that is why we’re such a mess. We’re so out of sync with each other that the only connection we feel is closest to it , is sex. But that’s a story for another day and there are things we need to confess. This thing of “we’re just human, nothing more and nothing less” is a construct in itself and keeps us from moving forward at our best. Another is money ,every body is worried about their next checks. When we should be worried about bigger things, like the theory of Planet X. Or maybe not. It might be just another story read from a storybook. I don’t believe in everything but I do take time to take a look. I expand my mind and what I expose it to leaves me shook. I’m more interested in infinity and beyond. Sometimes I wish for certain things but I forget that my mind is my wand. Although I think a lot I know I’m not the highest being. The difference between you and I is that I’m not choosing to close my eyes, I’m seeing. I know I think a lot and all that i think is mostly vivid. Sometimes I think I think to much and it sometimes leaves me livid. But I’m glad I don’t know it all because what would be the reason I’m living at all? We’re so afraid of limited knowledge that we don’t realize what this facade is . Cause Nibiru ain’t coming, God is.

poetree (fa la la)

Special Thanks to :

Life, you inspired me

To every Yin there is Yang, keep your kicks on for Yang, the journey continues soon, I ain’t done yet

thank you for reading ❤

Suicide Files Collection

/original collection cover/

Intro

Welcome to the Suicidal Show: For The Bros And The Hoes and those in between. It’s only a matter of time before life becomes a memory for poetree. A warning to the feint hearted. This is a collection of literacy that you can picture vividly. This is not for all ages. It contains certain cases of attempted suicides for you and I. But more for you to read and feed your minds with a darker me, a darker poetic persona. A side where the emptiness of poetree resides. This collection has episodes but these are still poems. Read these when you are alone. You are now entering the darkest parts of my mind. You’ll need something to hide behind when you read this. You’ll need to be brave and to prepare yourself .Good luck reader. And thank you.

/alternate collection cover/

Episode 1 : before2010

The years before the pain had given me time to grow. But they were normal and mundane. The days when I was still sane. But even then life was so sad and bad. I was not lost because my head looked like a patch of land with cut down trees and deforestation was evident. I cut my trees down. But smiles were slowly turning into frowns. My pride soon turned into a crown. I put myself on the throne of depression. Back then I did not feel oppression. From black or white people back when words were not so lethal. And we were all equal. Now I see we’re divided into racial groups. We’re called the most distracted youth because they hide us from the truth. Eight years old when the only games we could play were FIFA. We didn’t play with hearts and we didn’t break them either. But even though it seemed like life should be easy. It wasn’t for me. Broken and bruised best described my state of mind. Shattered by other people, my childhood became a nightmare. It wasn’t fair but then again who cares, as long as the laughs and remarks got people to stare. A depressed child is one that doesn’t grow. People will act like they didn’t know. I speak for all those who’ve been mocked and teased just so other people could be pleased. I wanted to take my life at eight. I planned to do it at night when it was late. So nobody heard me die and scream. Maybe if I killed myself I would wake up from this horrible dream. But with the help of miss Kloka (say: Cloak-Uhh) I realised I could get older. Words can destroy a person whose already hurting. But in truth they didn’t know that it could hurt .Until they found blood on my Ben 10 t-shirt.

-poetree (my story,true story)

Episode 2 : iwannadie

*Girl committing suicide*

Key : “…”- other people

*…* – her thoughts

“You’re better off dead” *Am I?*

“you’re always posting about death , just die since you want it” *all I want is help*

“just do it, end your life cause im tired of you complaining about life” * (cry’s) but im too scared to*

“you slut , just die” *whats wrong with me*

What is wrong with me? , why am I hurting?They call me a slut when he was the one who started flirting. He started the touching and he was the one who encouraged all the sex. Nowadays he tends to flex to his friends about how he slipped under my dress and made a mess. I’m so tired of being the victim with everybody accusing me. I have these demons in my head and these monsters under my bed , busy confusing me. “you’re crazy” even my dads been accusing me and he’s still the same person sexually abusing me. With this blade in my hand they’ll finally understand how much damaged they have caused. i looked into the mirror and I paused. I looked under my eyes and saw the unsettling bags of exhaustion. I realised my whole face had lost its colour not only certain portions. I looked at the blade and thought that dying inside is something i always knew. But actually dying in reality is something new. But I’ve been so blue, I looked into the mirror, and said “ I don’t care about you”. Maybe I shouldn’t use a blade, it’ll hurt me like everybody else has. Maybe these drugs will give me a hug, but I no longer want to be numb I wish to be dead. And so I took it out and I started to snort the white lines on my homework desk. It’s not my first time but this time I want to overdose on this habit , to stop making it a sport. It’s as if something wants my life and I’m finally saying “you can have it”. Bullying at school, sexual harassment at home and my own drug addiction, sometimes I look at my life and wonder if it’s all fiction. I’m broken and I’m beyond fixing.

And so she did it all, she cut her wrists with the blade that she mentioned, blood poured out like a waterfall. Red fluid falling from the edges and the cliffs of her skin. Amidst the pain she kept sniffing the cocaine until she felt dizzy and she fell, with her last words as “I hope I don’t go to hell”

– poetree( if everybody could work on themselves a little more the world would be a better place,I know it’s cliche but you can’t change the world unless you change yourself, p.s. suicide’s never the answer)

Episode 3 : Prevention

^witnessing the stages of suicide and the suicide scene^

I remember how he told me about his on going war with himself and his demons. At first I thought he was talking about a movie or maybe he was dreamin. But soon I knew he wasn’t. He wanted to die. All he ever wanted to do was fly. He always came to school with the earphones in his ears, listening to music soothing his fears. So he can make it through the day because he believed school was a waste of time. He thought it took away valuable periods of life that we missed and he believed it was a crime. And so down went his grades and higher went his fades. I won’t speak about how he is now a renegade .He started to hate life with his heart. He made death look like an art. A beauty one who is living can not comprehend. All he was looking for was a shoulder that no one would lend. And now I’m witnessing his end. We all knew he was heart broken. We all knew nobody understood at home and yet people keep provoking him and all the words the bullies say start chocking him by the neck and when it’s all finished they tell him that they’re only joking. And so he started smoking. Marijuana made him happy and the xans made him numb. And nowadays he is in the corner of his room in the dark while he hums himself to sleep but then he continues to weep. Bags under his eyes because he suffers from insomnia. His therapist tells him his delusional and has personality disorders. He has painted a picture of death in his mind and we have kept ourselves on the borders. Of the picture. We see him dying but nobody’s really trying to help him. You all say you’re his friends but you’re lying because behind his back are many knives. His mind was always racing like bee hives. I’m standing here in the bathroom of the school next to a lifeless body of the same boy that we all knew had issues but nobody took time to lend him a tissue . A capsule of prescribed pills in his right hand. I stand. I felt his pulse and now I know his dead. But in truth he was always dead inside .But now he is truly gone. But his problems were never that obtuse. I presume he died from the overdose or the constant drug abuse . I had actually asked my teacher to go to the bathroom and I found him lying here. Slowly dying here. I blame me. I blame you. I blame all of us for his death. Of course it was him who was always on the meth. But it was us who killed him. We all subconsciously murdered a boy. A boy our age. Because we couldn’t take a moment to look outside ourselves and actually help. Maybe he would be alive if he could have just vented. But no , we couldn’t help because of this or because of that or because of other scenarios in our heads that we invented. There,staring at him, I realized suicides can be prevented. I should probably find a teacher now or find him some help. But I just realized that we didn’t help him because we couldn’t but because we wouldn’t.

– poetree (somebody needs help out there, save a soul)

Episode 4 : Another

Another hour, another day , another week. Another night when I can’t get enough sleep. Another threat, another month to regret. Another person and memories to forget. Another person who claims to love me but they don’t. Another one who said they’d die for me but they won’t. Another teacher who don’t understand either. Another parent who claims to understand. Another male to tell me “what it is to be a man”. Another stereotype as I’m a female. Another problem with my race because I seem pale. Another chem-trail find it hard to inhale. Another bully just to treat me like I’m shit, sorry for swearing, but he/she always calls others to beat me up to make sure that I’m hit. That’s just another person with a low self-esteem. Just another human , part of the same team. There comes another bad day , I bet they hate me ‘cause I’m gay. Another person claiming they’re a humanitarian. My direction is where everybody is always staring in. Down this walkway we call life guess I’m just another pedestrian. You all discriminate me just because I am a lesbian. And I’m proud and even though I don’t make a sound and I know my silence is rather loud. Another bad father figure. Yet I’m told to see the bigger picture. I’d rather be a focal point then to see that we are better when we are joined. I’m not better because I’m a he, most times I know I can’t do things better than a she. Another division because of our sex. People in the middle always end up as rejects and people tend to spread this effect. Another person in power abusing their faculties causing so many of our people’s casualties. Humans please. You know better than to tease some one who’s already not at ease. Another human on some drugs, it’s just a higher me. Beaten by expectations of our society. Another death , it’s another lost breathe. Another suicide because you couldn’t say hi and ask her what’s on her mind, instead you’d rather hide and watch her soul die inside. But there will never be another you or another me. There will never be another poetree.

-poetree (if you ever had to go through any of this, I’m sorry, seek help.)

Outro

**note: you will never be happy if you don’t want to be, it’s all in your head, remember that.

If you took nothing from this collection take this: you don’t get another life like this one, so live this one as it is your first and last. don’t make peoples lives miserable, make them pleasurable. and save a soul near you. every life matters.

get help professionally (if needed):

Suicide Helpline (also called the Destiny Helpline):

0800 12 13 14

Or alternatively click the link below, it offers videos to help you with what ever you’re going through; books that may help you’re condition and a magazine; newsletters that help etc. Suicide is NEVER the answer.

SOUTH AFRICAN DEPRESSION AND ANXIETY GROUP:

http://www.sadag.org/index.php?option=com_content&id=11

thank you for reading </3