Me·tic·u·lous

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At the end of the day

What is my collection of poems except,

Meticulously dissected streams of a singular thought

Allocated with frames relative to the moment.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: ryky

The Real.

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No, you will never understand

What it feels like to walk a mile in my shoes,

So hold your tongue

When you feel the urge to ask me

Whether it’s now okay to use the N-word.

 

All I have ever known is being a foreigner

I would love to say the stares get a little easier

And at times, it feels like no one can get to you

But when a community singles you out 

For the way you look, you’re bound to get taken off balance

Feeling the unofficial divide between you and them.

 

Do I need to keep reminding them

That I worked for everything I have?

Maybe give them some proof?

That being black does not entail every solution I see

Lies behind a cocked gun?

And that is where the problem is; approval,

I do not need to explain myself to you or anyone else

Contrary to your sphere of understanding

It is not my life mission for you to make me feel included.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: Paginacero

 

Working in a foreign country can indeed have its benefits. On the flip side, however, it is notably much easier to feel like an outsider. I’m in Thailand right now and where I work I’m the only black person, it’s a pretty cool place, and I truly appreciate some of the co-workers I have come to call friends. Here’s the thing though, when I initially started working there my abilities were constantly put into question; most of the higher ups wondered if I was up to the task (they were not really subtle about it).

My line of work needs people with great proficiency in the English language, and it was only when I showed my certificates that they started to take me seriously. Many might think I’m reading too much into this, I would agree if other employees went under such rigorous scrutiny. My friend (from Russia) was surprised when he heard how everyone was questioning my skill; considering how he relies on my help at times. You should have seen their faces when I showed them my qualifications, they could not believe it, their perception shifted entirely. A black person with more skill than his boss, unbelievable.

“People here are afraid of black people because of what they see in the movies” verbatim from a co-worker; she was right. Even my neighbour, really lovely old lady, I used to greet her every morning. I say ‘used to’ because I eventually stopped when I realized that she is actually afraid of me. She is so afraid to the point where, if we are about to cross paths, she walks in the opposite direction to avoid coming into contact with me. At first, I thought I was just being crazy, but when I saw that happen five or so times, in a row, I knew there was something fishy going on.

And these are some of the things I encounter on a daily. I am generally positive, but it’s these lingering issues that take a toll on me, and in all honesty, I have run out of excuses to give others. I do appreciate all the people who see me regardless of my ethnicity, and those are the only people I associate with. Those are the only people I use my time and energy on.

These poems I write about being black, they come from a real place. I’m not asking for sympathy but expressing my thoughts to those that take the time to read what goes on in my mind. It’s not easy being black, but at the same time, I would never choose to be anything else.

 

 

 

W_ave

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Oh, don’t mind me,

I’m just an intellectual phantom

Surfing on the tidal wave

That is my creativity.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: yuumei

Appease.

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Contrary to your makeshift doctrine 

And that insatiable Messiah complex;

Choosing not to follow your will

Does not,

Make me a coward.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: yuumei

S_tellar

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In a bid to prove his state of mind

As being stellar – if not superior,

He overexerted his attempts to stand out

… Going full circle, like clockwork.

 

Long story short:

Unforeseen yet self-imposed machinations

Now tie the knot between him

And the inevitable re-engagement 

With the lane of the derivative.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by:  yuumei

Ghost·ing

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She wonders why he left,

But the real question is,

Was he ever there?

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: chateaugrief

Eve·ry·thing

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You will not lose anything

By not having something

To say,

About everything.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: skraww

C/razy

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I will be myself

Even at the “risk”

Of being called crazy.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: yuumei

Earthing.

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Bare feet touch the prickly grass around me,

“Appreciated, Mother Earth,

Your attempts to tickle me, are not in vain.

Lord knows I could use a laugh or two

Right about now”

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: HazPainting

 

Lines.

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The lines I design

Lasso social barriers smothering the world,

Flinging them, from here, 

To that pocket dimension

You never knew existed;

Till now.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Photograph by: Aquilapse