Poetry

My Mouth is Listening While My Eyes are Talking

Look me deep in my eyes and tell me what you hear. If you listen carefully to my thunderous, earsplitting stare, you will hear the unmistakable sound of agony that the owner of these eyes is screaming through tears. These eyes are pleading with you to stop with the madness. We ready to go out and mob against Zimmerman and Dunn and then turn right around and use the same gun to assassinate the ones that they missed. Kinda hypocritical don’t you think. Don’t get me wrong
I’m praying for justice to be served for Jordan and Trayvon but not because it was another race that erased their existence. These eyes are screaming for it all to stop. Not just racial violence but also violence against ourselves. My mouth is listening to every excuse and reasons why my people feel it was more tragic in the race cases, but my mouth can only respond with what it heard with the phrase of “Bullshit!! The tragedy is not in who did the killings, but in the fact that two young lives were removed from possibly becoming the men to find the cure for cancer or maybe even being owners of their very own fortune 500 company.” My vocals sometime has a
hard time trying to translate the words of my vision so all I can say is my mouth is listening
while my eyes are talking.
Look me deep in my eyes and tell me what you hear. If you listen carefully to my thunderous, earsplitting stare, you will hear the unmistakable sound of confusion that the owner of these eyes is screaming through raised eyebrows. These eyes are asking “What happened to the respect
some of these ladies have for themselves”? You are on the internet begging for attention through half naked pics and twerking videos, but you get pissed when disrespectful guys call you a hoe.
You gotta be smart enough to know that the image you are portraying is not making men
attracted to your personality. These eyes are screaming from the bottom of their optic nerve for these ladies to take back the respect that they deserve. Your mother gave you a name and it is not
“Bad Bitch!!” Bad bitch is not a compliment. A bad bitch is a female dog that tears up things in your home, and as the owner you have to punish it by whipping its ass. That is the reason why so many of you “bad bitches” end up in domestic situations. My eyes, my eyes are screaming for you take your respect back. There is more to you than what looks good in boy shorts and a wet
tee-shirt. Make him respect you by respecting yourselves first. You are worth more than sexualm satisfaction. My vocals sometime has a hard time trying to translate the words of my vision so
all I can say is my mouth is listening while my eyes are talking.
Look me deep in my eyes and tell me what you hear. If you listen carefully to my tranquil,
serene stare, you will hear the unmistakable sound of hope that is whispering through eyes wide open. These eyes are speaking to the hearts of those that hurt letting them know that a better day is coming. If you listen carefully to the whispers, you would hear the reasons why giving up
should not ever be an option. In your toughest situations, you should teach your mouth close itself because sometime your vocals have a hard time trying to translate the words of your vision. Allow your mouth to listen while your eyes are talking.
P.A.W.C.R.A.M. 02/19/2014

MY BURDEN…..

Sometimes I cannot help but feel that I am alone in this unfriendly world

Trying to survive is like dragging a ball and chain while suffering through serve pain

With tear falling yelling for help but suddenly realizing that no one is going to come

The reality is that I must fight. Fight to the very end because who will fight for me?

There are so many who say they care but

I am homeless and I can see the curiosity within their stares

I want to scream at them to stop looking at me

I’m in bondage now walk away and please leave me be

Unless of course you’re here to help me become free

A simple word of encouragement will do

If that is not too much to ask of you

On a good day I’m glad for another day I’ve made through

On the bad days there are things I cannot say but really wishing someone just knew

Which way do I turn, where can I go

The all too familiar words announced I’m sorry I don’t know

So I turn here, and I turn there

The good life I had to now nothing can compare

I believe God’s word he will not put more on me than I can bear

Written By: Natrona M. Atkins

a.k.a. SymplisaTee “The Poet”