I really do care
Sadly, it shows more on my blogs than in real life most of the time
Whenever I see or research injustice
I had to talk about it
Whenever my anger shows
I’m told to calm down
Sorry for actually giving a crap about what’s happening in the world.
I’m not just some random DIY author, film critic, poet, or avant-garde composer on the net
I see myself as a human being first and foremost
Wouldn’t be diminishing to suppress my emotions?
I guess people want me to be a robot or a zombie
Perhaps I care too much
Enough to fume on a blog or raise my voice
I guess my volume elevating is more threatening
Than violent people outside the jails
I shouldn’t have to be sorry for emoting while bombarding those with the truth
I’ve seen injustice
I’ve been a victim of it
For this, I won’t be sorry for making many people uncomfortable when I have to
I’ve been silenced and my emotions have nowhere else to go
It’s a miracle I haven’t been trolled for facts and opinions on here and other platforms
My anger isn’t a sin.
From Paris, Kentucky, I emerged into this world
At a young age, I was on the clock a ton as a handyman and working all the time fixing
I had no time for school, so tutors and autodidactic endeavors happened
What I didn’t know back then is that I would save lives
It all started from a tunnel that was ablaze
The men in red couldn’t beat the smoke
I watched them struggle and die from the carbon monoxide
It was time to fix this with a hood and breathing apparatus
I tested the smoke myself, and I still breathed
First responders and WWI soldiers both benefited from my creation
Shame no one believed someone with melanin invented it
Next came witnessing car crash after car crash
Scrap metal and mangled bodies were all I could see
All the signs said were “stop” and “go” manually
Give me the yellow light, I know what to do
The green and red were illuminated, but that had to be an in-between
How come no one else thought of this cautionary sign?
I made traffic signals with three lights and electric
Making warnings and curbing accidents
Shame no one believed someone like me invented it
Much like other innovators, I was taken for granted long after I was laid to rest in Cleveland.
I hope others know who I am.
Abuse quotes from Ecclesiastes
Piled upon excuses over excuses
Encouraging stealing and giving carte blanche
All show me how lazy and lacking in creativity these individuals are
I’m tired of robbers being rewarded
As they try to slaughter innovative ideas
They weren’t dead, but at worst…they were on life support
No one dares to try
It’s all about safe bets and still waters
In order to keep everything cloistered (as much as they wanted to be)
What ever happened to doing new things
Despite all the rampant copies
I know originality isn’t dead
Those who dare to implement innovations in all forms
Need to be known
I was guilty not appreciating everyday inventions from the unknowns
Even as some weren’t allowed to patent their creations because of their skin color
I have respect for the innovators
You can only rehash for so long
I was looked up to by so many in the community
The de facto leader of sorts for them
I was there to show them the way and to learn about the town
After so many hours of being in front of others
I had to retreat to my studio
With canvases, brushes, and paint
I had to express myself when I wasn’t around the rest
While I was seen as the big sibling around
I felt so insecure
Like I was constantly being stepped on
Or having a train racing through my direction
Was I truly ready for flight no matter how small my charcoal feathered wings were?
I hated to admit this, but I needed to be rescued
My autodidactic mind was on full throttle
Once I dug into the search engines I could find
So many things of constructive and artistic value came to my eyes
Things such as computers, pacemakers, CCTV, and lesser-known types of music
Among so many other things
Gave me such an enlightenment
Although a lingering sense of frustration filled my mind
“Why didn’t I know about this person?
“How did I not know that about this invention or piece of art?”
“So and so plagiarized this?”
“This person couldn’t get a patent because of their race?”
Those questions flooded my mind once I did my full diligence in my research
I was surrounded by the legacy of innovators in different fields I had never heard of
That realization hit me with things I took for granted
I wanted to know more and do more
I want to be an innovator in my multiple disciplines
So much inspiration gave me a reason to keep on living and to keep creating
I wish I knew then what I knew now
Altering the past would’ve been a beautiful thing if it was feasible
I was never this genius that some people have told me
I’m still learning, yet I feel that I still don’t know enough
If I could have erased my ignorance
I could’ve had a better life
Bullies would be discredited
And none would dare challenge me again
I want to know and show I’m right
Where no one could argue against what I know
The studio was a safe haven for me
After years of neglecting the stage
I wanted comfort with my acousmatics and vocals
There weren’t going to be any guitars here (and I still don’t use them with this project)
I wanted another project after abandoning the stage
Tremors do show up that prevent me from wanting that goal
Things became confusing for someone as multi-disciplined as me.
No, I have no interest in going to the theater
When alleged creators won’t stand by their thievery
That’s not even getting into coded stereotypes
No thank you, I’m just fine staying away
I know you were trying to troll me
And trying to relive your childhood
How shallow do you have to be by defining your childhood
By a multi-million dollar funded lie?
Okay, the poem’s done, but I had to get this off my chest.
So many people in real life are proving me right. Just saying. SMH.
Who is Ospreyshire, really?
Is he a poet, musician, or some random blogger who talks about random news stories or movies?
I’m sure many of you thought the same thing at least once. It doesn’t take an ESPer to figure that out.
I do apologize for confusing you and it wasn’t my intent. I just want to be me. How crazy is it that I have so many interests and care about different things.
Does this make me feel like some holier-than-thou person? Does this make me shallow?
I feel like a good portion doesn’t know me or know what Ospreyshire’s about.
No wonder I’ve been trying to streamline everything to have a concrete identity while still not trying to fit in someone else’s box to define me as this or that.
Who is Ospreyshire, really?
Someone who’s trying to find their identity through my words, opinions, and my art. At least that’s what I hope is shining through.
The title said it all
Years of brainwashing and not knowing it
Caused me to falter in ways I never realized
All because of factors I couldn’t control
My personal hobbies
I was a target for all to destroy
No matter how hard I tried
I was destined to fail
If time machines existed, I’d change so many things to be better in my past
It would be the only way to get respect and no one would hurt me anymore