By: Cedric McClester

Though it may not appear
That you are what they fear
And it may not seem
Like it’s low self-esteem
Look a little closer
And you’ll often find
That’s what’s behind
A hate-filled mind

They try to act superior
While feelin’ quite inferior
Ya don’t havta state it if it’s a fact
They’re only projecting what they feel they lack
Look a little closer
And you’ll often find
That’s what’s behind
A hate-filled mind

They’re just frightened people
That’s all that they are
Yet that doesn’t stop ‘em
From baring the scar
Of their hate-filled actions
Fueled by their bigotry
Although frightened people
Is what they well may be

Hateful actions and the rhetoric
Of a minor few who are clearly sick
Permeates the atmosphere
You can find it everywhere
But look a little closer
And you’ll often find
That’s what’s behind
A hate-filled mind


Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2016.  All rights reserved.

my life is a million things or a million and one   look at this situation   words dribbling from my fingers like raindrops     I want to feast
on every piece
   you are willing to display   to roll out and reveal
     no matter how fragile
I feel my bones groan for you   but I all I have   are these syllables stationary   on a screen
the idea of something more   an improbability
we can share our language   and breakfast cereals   and our feet will rest
on the table   with the murmur of the TV     in the background   and oh my god   I am sprinting through a blizzard   as fast as I can   but I was never a good runner     my toes are almost numb   but I want want want   to experience it all
   ripples of reality   it has bypassed me
carved a pear-shaped
lump     out of me     I am ******* in string
I am oblivious   to kisses and loving   and intimacy
   the rush   the blinding delirium     I see everybody glisten   it seems so   but every person is ravaged        
   by a manic voice   flaws written high   and glowing
I try to explain   but my handwriting
indecipherable
   a blister-free   relationship   glorious silence   delicious shiver
of something like love   between us   over our shells     I am out of it   in a make-believe land
drag me to real life   and I’ll burn   like a slab of meat     before I trip
     into a lake of salty worries

Innocent songbird
Keep singing sweet sorrows
Keep whistling lullabies
The cage they're erecting
Can't keep you in
Can't tie you down
O! innocent songbird
They can clip your wings
Trim your claws
But how stupid are they
Thinking you are a pet
A prize for cheap pay
Innocent songbird
They've not yet realized
Everything they are doing
Can't **** your singing
They don't understand
The words of a man
Are much more powerful
Than the laws of the land

It's racing through my blood,
Once a puddle, now a flood.
Lighting fire to my every limb,
You're so good as I breathe you in.

Radical original action
Love always
will make its enemies sick
sick and sicker
until they finally love.

love
when
i
pray for you
my tears
make the ocean blue
this
love brand new
while
i
hold on to you

there aren't any cliches about being broken left for me to spill onto this screen without leaving traces of my blood hidden in each meaning that's been studied over and over and over again

i don't want to think about how little or much you sleep or how much caffeine you drink to wake those tired eyes up because i know caffeine can't help and love can't work to distract a mind so full of distractions already

when it's two am or i'm drunk i think i miss you the most because it's only then i realise how alone i am and how perfectly my head fit on your bare shoulder but maybe the lesson that needs to be learned is that i'm stronger than the pain of missing you and you're lost in the emptiness of not desiring me

i wish i could send telepathic pumps of electric waves fuelled by the thoughts in my brain to your heart so that for a moment you could wake into a coma of happiness but if it were up to me you'd be asleep forever and i'd never want to pull the plug

maybe happiness really only does last in the moments when we least expect them but all i know is that somewhere in-between my hundreds of bruises and your thousands of insecurities i got lost in the cliche of a rose world and i was never read to give that up and i never want to let that go

tell me  you'll stay, even if it's only for another few seconds of this dream

writing poetry, for me, has become like a eating disorder.
although instead of consuming,
i'm the one producing.

each day i strive for this unattainable image,
this glorified idea of what i might become,
and the parasite in my brain grows.

i force my finger down my throat,
causing words to come bubbling up.
and each time they are more vile than the last,
a sour odor wafting from them.

my mouth burns from the acid but it tastes like victory.
because at least i created something.
and i leave my poetry there to rot,
refusing to admit i have a problem.

too blind to understand that each time i do this i'm slowly killing myself.
i'm hungry for something that can sustain me,
but i reject every antidote.

right before you kiss
that fraction of a second
words cannot describe