Route 69

Everyone has their own walk in life. Each person makes good choices and bad choices; but your choices depends on how you walk. In the end that’s what makes up your life, and depending on if circumstances make or break you will determine who you will be.

Silence in a room hammering on the heads of the guilty,

Prosecute me for the crime I’ve done

But I won’t confess and innocents go up one by one

Not I said the cat, my war is already won

Selfish is what I will act on, and now you will see the reflection of my song

Pain is what I have felt these last few years,

Not drunken by those liar words of hey dear,

Sleeping in my room, hiding from rejection and fear,

Kill and destroy because it makes me warm,

Sitting in this room, a warm quiet storm,

A new decree to be a silent predator,

Lightning, Thunder, whatever the weather

The side effects are five questions and how?

Laughing on the inside because the time is now,

Me feeling like this, hot like a furnace,

Those last words that you spoke still in my hand and burn this,

These lies that you told forever lives in my heart,

I keep thinking and it brings me right back to start,

My heart hot as a cold winters day,

But only God can chase that pain away,

Demented and aloof is what is new, bolt by bolt my life is screwed

Do jovial and dark go together?

A light leading a dark path I call life

Plots schemes, realistically reality, turns the greatest life into insanity

The white walls that I call home, a spirit lurks to be called unknown

A confidence that’s shattered by a strand of hair, eight ears that listen to a blank stare,

A memory that plays a record, an embarrassment that lasts forever,

To speak or not to speak that’s not the question; to be heard or unheard is the answer,

Not bricks but concrete takes my stage, notes and steps fill my page,

Not two faced but many faces I portray, where I’m going the unknown in disarray I walk astray

I don’t want to but I have to it’s my destiny, all secrets bring out the best in me,

Dream and walk where your feet take you,

Your eternity depends on what suits you…

Starting Echo

Well I’m new to this whole blogging stuff, but HELLO! Welcome to the wonderful and newly famous Jahbria Cofield’s blog. As many of you may know im all about the arts, and expressing myself, and one way that I do that is through poetry. It’s a way to use metaphors, similes and other types of figurative language to get your point across. For example a wrote a song called echo…

Straight jacket one size fits all, after all my regrets has filled my heart with scarce memories. My mind stuck in a foam wall asylum, dumbfounded by what is invisible, current and everlasting. Struck by what lasts forever not able to see what’s visible because your eyes hold darkness.

All eyes turned off because reality is so hard to see, no love, no happiness, just pain, pleasure and broken promises. I understand you from a distance because the walk is hard, controlled and dominated by our thoughts that run ramped in what gives knowledge. That everlasting echo, that broken record player that does its job so well, that your heart starts to swell up with pain.  Tears and sadness turned into anger because in your mind water is a weakness. Living life in a mask that can’t fit a former face because there are too many faces to portray. A desire to break free but quick sand takes a tool and keeps sucking you back into the same old echo.

In a jungle of lies, truth, and questions, not the average situation, but everyone is caught. Words of being hurt and lost, reasons for the oblivious. But that isn’t the word for it, now is it? Can you explain your silent scream? Can you explain to me why the echo only speaks out the negativity? Can you explain to me why when you smile it doesn’t mean anything, nor does it last? Who are you, give me a name so that you don’t remain nameless, an alter ego, something. Something to call the part of you that is so scared and amazing, so beautiful but deceived, so wonderfully made. Each compliment you get you slowly crawls back into your corner that you call comfort, and you continue to be aloof. In that corner the echo is still loud in your ear. Broken dreams of the doubtful hate on false predictions, life is predicted on words of all.

            In all my poems I observe something and take it into my perspective and make it into art. There is always more sides to every situation or story then what people portray. And that is just a taste of what you will be seeing throughout this semester.