I never get tired of this ☺️🙌🏾 If I just believe and affirm, mountains would move casually. Excuse me. Pardon. For real, let my arrogance rock. Broken glass. This ceiling has to go. I always knew I was great. Then I forgot. Your ignorance reminded me. Challenging my productivity. The sky is the limit. That’s what they told us. Rolled us into cubicles and assigned numbers with email signatures and put a price on our minutes. Time changes meaning quickly. Relative to your mentality. I always knew. -Shaun L 📷 Shaun Liriano #poetry #love #quotes #poetrycommunity #writersofinstagram #life #poem #instagram #lovequotes #writer #quoteoftheday #poet #quote #poetsofinstagram #follow #art #poems #thoughts #inspirationalquotes #writing #instagood #quotestagram #loveyourself #like #motivation #inspiration #motivationalquotes https://www.instagram.com/p/CJtqLUFrkDU/?igshid=9su2606qtqa2
Lost in the essence of the debris of past explosions are a handful of people unwilling to let go. She is new. She has been for a long time now. They shove thorns on her finger and tell her it is a band. They’re married to remnants of a carcass. The doubt died. There is nothing absolute about time. Time is a human concept. They’ve been divorced from humanity. Most feel nothing. Your tears equivalent to rainwater or urine. Just moisture. Stretch out your hand. Understand her pressure and the poison your presumptions plant in otherwise healthy soil. She is new. You’re holding on to situations born from trauma that was convenient to ignore. You’re peeling scabs looking for blood but she exists within what you see. She operates above you at times, hovering over hope and grabbing pieces of promise. It’s time…
By: Shaun Liriano
1. I met Poetry after I met Music. Poetry wasn’t promiscuous like Music. She didn’t try to appeal to everyone. She didn’t care if you liked her or understood her.
2. Poetry saved me. Swooped in and like a superhero. As a matter of fact, Poetry made superheroes look like security guards. She told me she could never be right or wrong. She told me we all have special abilities. She told me about Ravens and women rising and lover’s named Venus.
3. I like Poetry. The way you make a best friend the first day of school. It’s a sandbox friend. Our meeting was quick and natural and fun. I hope we’re together forever, blood sisters, bound by purpose.
Our love went on like an unwatered plant. Without the sustenance needed to survive. I mourn the conversations we postponed, texts that should have been phone calls, the drinks we should have had laughs over. I miss the adolescent I knew and I pray for the woman I watched grow. I hold in my heart the spirit that could never die in any realm.
By Shaun Liriano
What’s small may be a lot, what is a lot may seem small
Until you lose it all and its a rash mad dash for survival daily
Until your past is full of regrets and your future is full of uncertainty
and hope is a liability because deflation is defeat
It could deplete from the strength you need to fight for your core
The strength you need to prevent combustion
The fight you need to escape frustration
Adjudication is needed to make monumental change for the forgotten
Realities need realignment
Vision needs correction
Humanity needs connection
By Shaun Liriano
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Note: This reflection was inspired by Gil Scott Heron “Winter In America” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m2zKdIcOV5s
“From the Indians who welcomed the pilgrims
And to the buffalo who once ruled the plains
Like the vultures circling beneath the dark clouds
Looking for the rain.”
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Pray with me
Pray with me Entwine your fingers with mine Feel my palms sweat and don't shy from the warmth of my vulnerability Pray with me not for me Bow your head with graciousness Stand at my side, not ahead of me or above me Dance to the rhythm of my heart beating feverishly I want to hear your nervous feet shuffling from side to side I want to see the imprint of your big toe through your shoe May our intentions and desires be one. See, I await anxiously, hoping God will see that I really hope and I mean I really hope that the road to hell is NOT paved with good intentions I intend to make a change in this world I intend to give children something good to dream about and chase their nightmares away I intend to clean the filthy I intend to give a hopeful beginning to those who just want it all to end I intend to wake up every morning ...early...and spend an hour with myself There is something magical about holding hands with a stranger.
Don't be alarmed as I tighten my grip I just really needed someone to touch me today I have desperately been waiting for an answer from God Desperately been shining as brightly as I can while filtering through so much darkness I have been holding my arms outstretched I have been kneeling with white paths on my face that begin where my eyes are and end somewhere between my neck and my chin Waterways traveled there many times They irrigate the mask I wear and unveil pieces of all that unravels me. Pray with me Embrace me and let me feel the comfort of your awkwardness Let me know you are waiting for something from HIM too Your are not untainted You are also afraid sometimes You too, wish you could ...everything Pray with me in the middle of the mess Not at the end of the day when its quiet and neat and the candle is lit and its convenient Pray with me, with rollers in your hair or your boxers and your A-shirt on, or with your stained apron that smells of fried chicken and plantain while the kids are saying "Mommy" 5x consecutively...pray with me. While the game is on...pray with me I need the blessing now We need the connection now The calling is now The moment is now The answer is coming now Pray with me because I can't shake the feeling that something heavenly awaits and we don't have to wait till we are at heaven's gate to be a part of something that perfect. Pray with me because I needed you yesterday and the day before and the night before that. Pray with me and I'll pray with you and we can glue each other back together. By: Shaun Liriano
Your heart is cracked and split at the seams. The losses you’ve endured, others wouldn’t have been able to survive. You’re resilience is unmatched.
Pride flows out of you like like a crashing winding river. It has unexpected bends and speeds. It drowns everyone you touch in excellence. Your stare exudes a longing for progression.
Your touch could melt ice. Your voice is soft but strong. Your tongue is poetry.
Your hope is infectious.
Your smile makes the brightest star jealous . It cannot match your luminescence.
The way you look and the way you feel is just the “icing on the cake.”
By Shaun Liriano
He threw her. Just threw her with full force like you chuck a football through a field. He threw her. She flew through the air.
I always knew I could fly, she said.
For the first time there was someone he could trust with his life and he wanted to show her that he cared. He wanted to show her that she was special. He wanted to show her that he’d be “mush” without her.
I trust you about as far as I can throw you, he said.
Then he threw her. He hurled her body and watched it spiral through the air. His love poured out of the sweat that beaded on her forehead. His faith sprouted wings in her back. His hope stripped her naked and replaced her bland clothing with an aerodynamic super suit colorful enough to match her vibrant personality.
At first, she was afraid. Fretfully, she gathered herself and tried to get her bearings. She tried to get used to being in the company of birds, high branches, and jet planes approaching their landings. She screamed in excitement. No one seemed alarmed that she was up there. They expected her to be in the sky. It was as if she didn’t belong on the ground and everyone knew it.
He didn’t look at her though. Once he threw her he didn’t wonder if she could take flight. He BELIEVED she could. So he obliviously kicked a ball through a field and watched it roll on. He read an article from time to time. He viewed television shows at leisure. He felt the warmth of an onlookers admiring glance. He chugged along knowing she was soaring through the sky for the first time.
Isn’t he wondering if I am okay? How does he know a larger creature hasn’t consumed me? Hasn’t he thought about my loneliness? Sometimes it’s cold up here. I don’t know anyone up here. Sometimes I’m scared. I’ve never flown before. I’ve never been thrown before. At first it was fun but where is he? What is he doing?
Her fear ignited a fire so fierce it singed her beautiful wings. It incinerated her custom costume. It sent her flailing through the sky clumsily…falling.
She landed in a bed of roses. The thorns, long and sharp, pierced her skin and her blood mixed with the crimson red of the rose petals. Her body naked and covered in ashes and blood writhed in pain.
She screamed out in horror, “My love! Where are you? Why didn’t you fly with me? Why did you leave me all alone?”
Silence. She waited in the cold. Naked. Vulnerable.
All the while, he returned to the field of her original launch every day after breakfast. He wondered why she never returned. He assumed she must be enjoying the clean air, the ascension.
Why didn’t she ever try to throw me?
He felt her absence but he also felt her presence.
-By: Shaun Liriano
*Dedicated to my muse.
My life is part humor, part roses, part thorns.