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Shaqueena Celestin

Studying

Paragraph after paragraph
Books piled up high
Attempting seemingly in vain
to force feed my brain
as time zips on by.
Vast information
consumed all in one go
only to be forgotten soon as the clock
strikes 'time up' tomorrow.

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Silent

Silent when I have nothing to say.
Silent just to avoid the fray.

Silent when I am not sure.
Silent—I can't stand anymore.

Silent when you make me mad.
Silent I am when times are sad.

Silent when I am too shy.
Silent when I want to cry.

Silent as I carry life's load.
Silent... I may soon explode.

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Vocabulary

Oh how you frustrate me,
so often boxing in my creativity.
I wish you wouldn't pose such difficulty,
drawing so much effort to pin down precisely.
You call to steep a fee
from those of us who are lazy.
Ah! Life would be so easy
if only knowledge of you could be
more of an innate capacity.
Nevertheless, I revel in your intricacy
and I will never grow weary
of this glorious battle that is vocabulary.

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Father

Why do I even carry your
name? That you are responsible
for my being is unfortunate. It's a
shame. You never comforted, protected or
provided. You've left me all this time
empty-handed. To abandon and forget me is what
you decided. I know it is not because of anything
I did. Nothing made me understand better than
time did. Some people's priorities are simply
wrong sided. I exist, or perhaps you don't
remember. I am alive and I am
your daughter, but you are not and never have been
my father. You are nothing but a faceless, shapeless,
meaningless figure.

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Blank Page

Blank page leave me be!
Blank page please stop taunting me,
reminding me of what I have failed to do.
Oh how I long to fill you,
to take up your very last line
with creative, riveting lyrics of mine.

Blank page stop harassing me!
I wish to show you my thoughts,
desires, emotions and all.
How difficult it is to answer your call.

Blank page how sweetly you whisper
tempting my pen to caress your paper.
I immaturely expect the verses to flow
then I realize that my thoughts are much too slow.

Blank page so often you defeat me
teasing and challenging until hours later
all that is left is the tiny dot

[...] Read more

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Inadequate

Inadequate.
It means not enough.
Like water in a glass half full
it is insufficient.
Some necessary bit is absent.
Inadequate is deficient.
It is vitamin C
in the diet of someone suffering from scurvy.
Inadequate is precisely what you feel
when you work yourself tired
for something your heart so desired
and in the end disappoint yourself still.
Inadequate is when you lack the will
to even try because somewhere inside
you just know you will fail.
Inadequate is someone when rejected.
Something inadequate is something defective.
Inadequate can mean not deserving company
almost like you're invisible maybe,
too unimportant to like or hate.

[...] Read more

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Writing Requires Experience

Pen poised between my fingers,
but on the page the ball point lingers.
I am willing the lyrics to flow
on what topic? I still don't know.

I realize then that writing poetry
requires experience not gained easily.
A good poet no doubt very wise is,
consequently, the problem arises:
how to gain this vital experience?
The dilemma, and source of my grievance:
how does a coward like me,
hiding from a world I can't stand,
become wise without learning
life lessons first hand?

Can my poems ooze hatred
when I've never been betrayed?
Can I speak vividly of love
when my heart hasn't yet been inflamed

[...] Read more

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Manners Lost

Bumped from behind
as I was walking down
the street today.
The culprit shot me
a menacing glare
as if to say
how dare I
be in her way

Waiting on the sidewalk
to board an empty bus,
in front the vehicle door
stands three of us
resisting the force
of an impatient crowd,
yet the man on my right,
to make matters worse,
still feels he must
push me aside
to get on first.

[...] Read more

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