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[therealfirstgenerationkid]

Full poem entitled 'A Pharoanic Separation' on my IGTV. 'Mountainous peaks and bumps Shaping my life until I triumph The sun sets and the moon rises It rains but later it shines The brown leaves are shed, but the greens ones re-establish Bombs and bombs, but the people ignited A pandemic befalls but in contrast society rises Deaths and deaths, but a country polymerizes An electron is negative but by the proton it is cancelled By their attraction, the world is stabilized.' #sunset #moonrise #spilledthoughts #spokenword #poetry #poetrycommunity #lovepoems (at Ireland (country)) https://www.instagram.com/p/CDqijMMJ0eN/?igshid=164d9vej6m1fu

[therealfirstgenerationkid]

“We can spend our entire lives in search of a purpose; of something with real meaning that is worth living for. So often we seem to fall short of that ideal and in the process we lose our motivation, our goal, our dream. What if the real purpose of life is living without wants, without greed and without self absorption? What if letting go of all that want and desire is what is going to let us have the capacity and opportunity to feel true peace?”

—

Kristie Betts

[therealfirstgenerationkid]

August Wilson; Fences

[therealfirstgenerationkid]

i want to lie down in a field of flowers

until season upon season passes me by

until snow covers my body

and there’s nothing left to see

until the sun dries me up

my corpse bleeding into the dirt

becoming nothing more than dust

no proof of me ever being there

in the first place

i’m a drop in this rainstorm

a fractal in this universe

i’m just a whisper in this big dark abyss

and i’ve realized that there’s no point in talking.

[therealfirstgenerationkid]

i want to drink the moon

i want to sip her glory like champagne

out of a fancy glass

i want to reach inward

and grab ahold of my silver heart

still beating

reflective of what i have left to lose

and look around

at the myriad of faces before me

all of them different forms of myself

monsters like moon phases in the dark

my face flushed the color of wheat

my mind goes places

i don’t think i want her to go to

stumbling over myself

when i can’t see too far ahead

or maybe i do want my mind to go there

- my thoughts are fast fliers

like little honeybees

if i linger too long i’ll get stung

or maybe i’m just an over-thinker

i want to read the constellations

with my eyes closed

and maybe the starlit sky will show me

where to reach.

[therealfirstgenerationkid]

Petition to replace “is that a pencil in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” with “is that a dagger I see before me?”

[therealfirstgenerationkid]

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A pharaonic separation...Check out the full poem on my instagram page @firstgenerationkid (Click here to watch).

I wrote this poem in the middle of the coronavirus quarantine. I share this with you today and I hope you enjoy. Have a listen and share you thoughts below.