I loved her face
until her eyes narrowed
in disgust
and her red lips
spewed cringing hate
That's when I knew
beauty does not exist
All we have
is *** and
survival

Hands shaking
    Voice stuttering
         Stage Fright
            Can’t focus
              Then silence
                  
                                                           It’s all over now.

I have never stuttered in pen
misspoken in ink
or choked in my writing
the way I do
whenever I speak
my fingertips always know
the right words to say
my tongue is still learning

I am the message, I inspire
set souls on fire.
A vestige of hope in days of darkness
I speak words of revolution
I can be the solution if you act now
so don't detract from the words I am saying
and the message given
which is driven home with concrete verbs and feeling
sealing the change for the future
I teach I nuture souls with love and not disdain
I heal the pain of the poor
but i shame the guilty with words fired like justice driven arrows
to make them atone for their sins
but I let them change themselves within
and their ways
I am the message
think feel me
absorb my words.

Here you stand blowing raspberries
at my phonemic skills.
Please close your lips. Just listen.
Learn of bilabial trills.

You may call me an animal
for my alveolar clicks,
for in America its only real use
is for catcalling chicks.

And not many understand
a velar implosive stop,
that the words are the gurgle
of a doughnut shop cop.

And yes,  my pharyngeal fricative
sounds like something's amiss.
But its not always contempt,
like some puppet show hiss.

So, if you just could excuse
my pulmonic ingressive,
I promise, If it feels like it hurts,
I will be singly expressive.

I guess all I can say
is that when you hear what I say,
remember, it more than just words
that I try to convey.

I stare at my four walls
If there was a speech bubble where would it fall?
Sometimes I think I am cartoon character on TV.
Waiting for the script to become the real me
Sometimes the world steals my ideas
Sometimes I can't grasp reality from my fears
Tears form to loneliness of which we were born
It's the storm of the monologue which yearns to escape us
The people who berate us, hate us probably are jealous
Of our strangeness.

There is a kind of
silence
which is not
silence.

It is the gnashing
of teeth,
the obstructed
bowel movement.

Speech is an inducement
to polyphony.
But not the truth
behind a muffled cry.

In this, the shudder
of leaves
is more sincere
than all the wrack
heard at the county fair.

When did our words die?
When a curious "good morning"
became a rigid "good night"?

When speech felt mandatory,
and a hello was whispered,
only to break the quiet?

We no longer felt the weight of our words,
or the breath in our conversation.
Our silence said more than we did.

Our feelings burned out,
Our language died,
And my shouts no longer reached you.

Why did we let our words die?

You have so many restrictions applied upon - Freedom of speech, that instead of being taught about it, you  need to be taught about ' restriction on speech '..

Seriously pathetic. I can't really see people blaming the politically elected government for vague reasons.

This is literally hundreds time worse than hell.

I shall write a little verse this day,
What are the best words to say
In an introductory way?
"Are you doing okay?"
"I'm okay, how about you?"
"I'm okay, thank you!"
"I'm very well, thank you!"
Or, "Who do you barrack for today?"
Or, " I have alcohol, yah!"
Or, "I love you always!"
Did you know speech is evolving?
Every discourse improving,
Human languages progressing,
So, what are some words to say?
I ask in my verse today......