Never Again

Never Again.
From her jail house soul screamed words like hardballs that hit the walls of the prison of her existence and bounced back at her with such force she fell into a deep depression, swallowed the guile of shame and felt the chains of guilt yet again!
Weeping for liberation …again.
Whingeing in frustration …again
and again…
“Mad? Who said I am mad? I have gladly left the land of OZ, the place of gourmet meals laced with poison, where exposed as mere sugar coated lies, sages’ tongues wag niceties and acts picture love”
Hmm, she had left that place…only in her dreams but not in reality it seems.
She yearned to escape the less than place under smothering commands and fearful reprimands, to the more than place of the overcomer and a realised destiny.
No more a locomotive fuelled by anger amidst the wounded masses called Reactionary.
Weeping for liberation … again
Whingeing in frustration … again
and again…
The sound of her tears dripping on the mirror beneath her face reminded her of raindrops on her window sill as she lay peaceful…once upon a time.
She looked back at self and questioned “where is that peace of yesteryears? Where?” then instead of her face she saw Chaos, that counterfeit self… that agent of confusion, that thief of her destiny… that…then she screamed.
A scream that was unlike the sound of defeat, but like a ball of fire unwilling to hit the ground lifeless, for it gained momentum, energised and thundered a command to the lifelong foe glaring back at her “DEPART!”.
As the sound echoed, she saw Chaos flee with her hangman’s noose in hand with dreadful masked cohorts in tow.
And then she knew it,
her voice once lost, regained,
her true self, reacquainted.
No more to weep for liberation … again.
No more to whinge in frustration … again.
Never again
©️April 2019 DENyamekye

Unapologetically Me

No I am not like you, I am like me; with a mindset blueprint that’s an original, fingerprints and a heart beat, my own.

No I am not beautiful like you  I am beautiful like me; a masterpiece, uniquely sculptured first in my Maker’s mind, incomparable.

No I am not educated like you, I am educated in the measure the Divine dictated and my purpose affirms is sufficient for me.

No I am not a clown in the image of him, her or them. Nor a clone programmed to mimic those deemed the good, real and great. 

Yes, I am the one and only me, myself and I.

That’s me!

©️17May2018 DENyamekye

Discourse:

In today’s world there is so much pressure to look like someone else or achieve what they have achieved and this has escalated to dangerous proportions. I was horrified to see pictures of a young man who has had so much plastic surgery to look like his idol, Kim Kardashian. I was saddened and thought of how what would have been his own life path or destiny has been  discarded for a life as Kim Kardashian’s clone. This is one example of multitudes of similar cases were people live as clones or aspire to live as clones of someone else.

We are all uniquely made and indeed if we self-reject it is as if we are saying to our Maker that He made a mistake! We may not see ourselves as beautiful or we may feel insecure about certain areas of our lives, however we must come out of self pity and a deceptive mindset in relation to our worth. Such thinking and attitude is aimed at causes paralysis; the inability to complete otherwise productive projects, take risks that will eventually result in much success or achievement.

Each human being has an inner and external beauty that is unique and a purpose in life that is also unique even if it may be similar to that of others. This is regardless of skin colour, culture, nationality, economic or social status.

We each have potential to excel and live productive lives. But this is only possible if  we concentrate on our strengths and work to overcome our weaknesses rather than concentrate on what others are doing, what they have and what they look like in comparison to ourselves. May this poetic discourse “unapologucally me” be a source of personal reflection or meditation and encouragement.

©️2018 DENyamekye

 

Domestic Death Trap

Slapped once, reassured of his love.

She stayed.

He broke her ribs twice. “I fell down the stairs” she said.

For him she always lied.

Pushed so hard against the door, the wood cracked. He begged for forgiveness.

She stayed.

Who told her of her worth, that she needed to leave to live?

Her true friends tried.

“His unfounded jealousy, blind rage were due to stress” she said.

Her excuses for him, dismayed.

The police found her dead body in a forest, battered and bruised. With no evidence nor history of violence, he was free.

So another victim he tried, while in a grave his wife laid.

©22-03-2018 DENyamekye

The Cracked Mirror

Introduction

Many people struggle as Worthy in this poetic discourse below: They have achieved much in life and are giving, approachable and likeable yet time and time again they self reject.

If we recognise such tendencies within us; a false self-perception or a broken self image as though looking through a distorted  or broken mirror it is time to acknowledge this and engage in self assessment and analysis; what causes these cyclical tendencies, is there a root cause from childhood, early adulthood … seeking professional help through counselling and prayers may be a way forward; a problem shared is a problem halved and a problem that eventually goes away!

The Cracked Mirror

Her name was worthy.
She lived on abundance street, things were plentiful so was her guilt towards those with little, it was so pitiful.

With the best education in her quiver, knowledge as power was not great for it led to self debasing and the sinkhole of depression.

Showers of expressive love felt like pins and needles bruising her body as she decoded massive hate was at the pinnacle.

Words of kindness were like darts hitting her heart as she defined the glare of their eyes as cold and calculating.

Sought after by many who saw her as wise, she obliged, though hated the popular ride, so at times she would feign sickness and hide.

She rolled her eyes when her name “Worthy” was praised, crying out “why me and not them!”

Her inner self she deemed unworthy to be trapped in a life where she always felt guilty.

Escape she finally did in the cracked mirror of her destiny to create for herself a reality in that place of her preferred identity.

©️16-June2018 DEN -The Witness

The Awakening

Razor is my man, loves me and calls me “son”. speaks to me like a Father so I joined his gang “Blades in the Hood”, sooner than later.

My boy self was chained tight to papa, crying like a sissy every night, since he slammed the door shut, his face never again to see.

I lie… I see his face still… even at night curled up like a child.

I see his face in grown men

withering in pain,

crying out,

begging for mercy,

everytime our knives and guns do their thing…target their prey.

And I hear the laughing voice in my head “pay back time!”. Feeling like superman, chains unlocked and riding high…

But …but another voice like mama’s rings louder “life is a lie, get help now!”

Life is a lie, I need help now!

©️26-12-2018 DENyamekye

If you have been affected by this poem (it reminds you of someone) highlighting mental health issues and would like personal (or for someone) prayer, counselling and additional information of where to get help, please email: thewitnessinstitute@gmail.com

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Alfie’s Poem: Bullying Ain’t Nice

One young boy’s response to bullies: scribal self-expression that is a form of dignified self-care that can yield other positive results… as we can see in Alfie’s case.

We have a choice in how to react when we are bullied. Well this wise young boy after being mocked for having ginger hair and told through messages to go and kill himself did not stoop to the bullies’ level, rather he chose to be dignified; He took pen to paper and wrote his feelings down! If that isn’t self-care, I don’t know what is!

Not only was it therapeutic for him (I believe)! He actually expresses his sense of self worth at the end and his last words were unknown to be prophetic because now he and his poem are standing out in the media around the world. Talk about a turnaround! I love it! Love it 😍 love 💖 it!

Alfie’s Poem:

Bullying ain’t nice
It ain’t cool
Just because I am ginger
You’re so so cruel
Are you really like this?
Have you not got anything better to do?
Or are you gonna treat me like gum on the bottom of your shoe
You’re an idiot you have made me cry
But that’s not the case
Not even my home is my safe place
I see the messages and feel like crap
Its like I’m stuck in some sort of trap
So I’m not ok
But I will say I’m fine
I make people happy and people fake their smiles
I might be faking mine
I’ve got love and support
That’s all I need
Just please own up
Please please please
Don’t be like this
Don’t be mean
Can’t say it to my face
So you sit behind a screen
But I’m gonna carry on with life
Do what I wanna do
Don’t interrupt me anymore I’m done with you
So I’m not gonna sit there, cry and freak out
But without a doubt
I’m not gonna blend in
WHEN I WAS BORN TO STAND OUT

Click on the link here for Alfie’s  full story entitled “Ginger haired boy writes poem to bullies who told him he should die”:

 

The Street Dweller

Introduction
Whoever we might be, we all desire respect & dignity. Here is a street dweller’s self appraisal that is food for thought:

They call me “Homeless”

but don’t care to ask my name.

I prefer “Street Dweller”

’cause the streets are my home.

They call me purposeless

but life on the streets spell

“Survival of the fittest” that

makes me far from useless.

They call me hopeless

but I have hope as I am

streetwise.

From place to place I trek,

I know bins full of food,

and outside which shop to beg.

Bus drivers know me,

turn a blind eye when I hop

on for free rides with my dog Fred.

They call me senseless

but I put to use the common

sense given by the Most High

when I look to the sky and

can tell if it shall rain or shine.

Then I know where to lay

my head; in someone’s shed, a

fold up box, open air?

anywhere as long as it

is miles away from a fox!

I am a street dweller.

Yes, among life’s fittest.

A survivor, that’s who I am.

©DEN-The Witness – 24/09/2016

Note: Upon request, I have given permission for this poem to be incorporated in a play with other poems at a College in Lansing, Michigan USA in November 2019 to coincide with Thanksgiving. The play is about the life of a group of homeless people and entitled “I have a name”.

Reflection & Encouragement:

One who lives in a home, has an address to go to can easily think “why would one want to live on the streets! Whatever name one chooses to be called “Homeless” or “Street Dweller” does not change the fact that they are in an undesirable status in life!”

Such a thought is not necessarily malicious, most people prefer a roof over their heads, a place to call home. However as we can see from this poem, the street dweller is expressing how they perceive their situation or circumstance which is contrary to how people, to his or her knowledge perceive it.

The street dweller has accepted their status as their reality. The circumstance or situation which resulted in them being as such is neither here nor there, they are proud to be living on the streets and making good of their life on the streets. They have learnt to survive and have dignity and self respect. Their descriptive prose is also saying loud and clear: this is who I am, take it or leave it! They actually compel one to respect them.

A number of reflections and lessons can be derived from this poem as well as words of counsel and encouragement or exhortation, here are some:

If people superficially put you in a box, assume things about you or stereotype you because of how society and others perceive or treat “people like you” i.e your economic, social status and race or cultural background, it is actually only you and you alone who can dismantle those superficial or stereotypical assumptions about who they think you are or how they expect you to behave.

Not that you have to make a conscious effort to change their minds or attitudes about you; Your manner of self-perception, self-relation, self-definition and self-respect in relation to who you are and your circumstance will greatly influence how people treat and perceive you.

Despite being born as a member of a family you are a unique being.Unique also within one human race and within diverse racial or ethnic groups, social and economic group of the human race. There is only one you!

However if you find that despite being unique and basically your true self within and still feel unaccepted by some because of your social and economic status, nationality, race or cultural background there is nothing you can do about it. Everyone is entitled to their opinions. However you have to make sure that you stay true to who you are as a person and not be driven to say things or act in ways that agree with any false labels about who you are or what people think you are supposed to be.

People may not understand your circumstances or even know all the background experiences and elements which have made you who you currently are, but learning to connect with your true self within, loving and respecting who you are without comparison to anyone else will constantly shatter any adverse effects that negative words and actions may otherwise have on you.
There is a scripture in the bible “Love your neighbour as yourself”.

Self love and respect results in expressions of love and respect towards others also because you inevitably empathise, have compassion for or appreciate other human beings more. As much as you cultivate positive self worth so too you see the bigger picture; the world is full of people who are worthy to be loved and respected as you are. It is therefore impossible for people who have a habit of putting people down or taunting and backbiting to befriend you or be among your close circle of friends.

In the context of the Street Dweller’s message, being a survivor is being an overcomer from having your worth defined by how others perceive you. Whatever your status or circumstance in life, ensure that you can say like the Street Dweller:
“Yes, among life’s fittest.
A survivor, that’s who I am.”

Note: This poem & discourse “Who I’m I? It’s a matter of Perception!
is in my book “Wielding the Sword of the Spirit” a book of interrelating inspirational teachings/devotions & poems chapter by chapter.