Smiles Can Be Catching.

Making the world happy. One smile at a time.

Tag: poetry

To This Day by Shane Koyczan

To This Day
When I was a kid
I used to think that pork chops and karate chops
were the same thing
I thought they were both pork chops
and because my grandmother thought it was cute
and because they were my favourite
she let me keep doing it

not really a big deal

one day
before I realized fat kids are not designed to climb trees
I fell out of a tree
and bruised the right side of my body

I didn’t want to tell my grandmother about it
because I was afraid I’d get in trouble
for playing somewhere that I shouldn’t have been

a few days later the gym teacher noticed the bruise
and I got sent to the principal’s office
from there I was sent to another small room
with a really nice lady
who asked me all kinds of questions
about my life at home

I saw no reason to lie
as far as I was concerned
life was pretty good
I told her “whenever I’m sad
my grandmother gives me karate chops”

this led to a full scale investigation
and I was removed from the house for three days
until they finally decided to ask how I got the bruises

news of this silly little story quickly spread through the school
and I earned my first nickname

pork chop

to this day
I hate pork chops

I’m not the only kid
who grew up this way
surrounded by people who used to say
that rhyme about sticks and stones
as if broken bones
hurt more than the names we got called
and we got called them all
so we grew up believing no one
would ever fall in love with us
that we’d be lonely forever
that we’d never meet someone
to make us feel like the sun
was something they built for us
in their tool shed
so broken heart strings bled the blues
as we tried to empty ourselves
so we would feel nothing
don’t tell me that hurts less than a broken bone
that an ingrown life
is something surgeons can cut away
that there’s no way for it to metastasize

it does

she was eight years old
our first day of grade three
when she got called ugly
we both got moved to the back of the class
so we would stop get bombarded by spit balls
but the school halls were a battleground
where we found ourselves outnumbered day after wretched day
we used to stay inside for recess
because outside was worse
outside we’d have to rehearse running away
or learn to stay still like statues giving no clues that we were there
in grade five they taped a sign to her desk
that read beware of dog

to this day
despite a loving husband
she doesn’t think she’s beautiful
because of a birthmark
that takes up a little less than half of her face
kids used to say she looks like a wrong answer
that someone tried to erase
but couldn’t quite get the job done
and they’ll never understand
that she’s raising two kids
whose definition of beauty
begins with the word mom
because they see her heart
before they see her skin
that she’s only ever always been amazing

he
was a broken branch
grafted onto a different family tree
adopted
but not because his parents opted for a different destiny
he was three when he became a mixed drink
of one part left alone
and two parts tragedy
started therapy in 8th grade
had a personality made up of tests and pills
lived like the uphills were mountains
and the downhills were cliffs
four fifths suicidal
a tidal wave of anti depressants
and an adolescence of being called popper
one part because of the pills
and ninety nine parts because of the cruelty
he tried to kill himself in grade ten
when a kid who still had his mom and dad
had the audacity to tell him “get over it” as if depression
is something that can be remedied
by any of the contents found in a first aid kit

to this day
he is a stick on TNT lit from both ends
could describe to you in detail the way the sky bends
in the moments before it’s about to fall
and despite an army of friends
who all call him an inspiration
he remains a conversation piece between people
who can’t understand
sometimes becoming drug free
has less to do with addiction
and more to do with sanity

we weren’t the only kids who grew up this way
to this day
kids are still being called names
the classics were
hey stupid
hey spaz
seems like each school has an arsenal of names
getting updated every year
and if a kid breaks in a school
and no one around chooses to hear
do they make a sound?
are they just the background noise
of a soundtrack stuck on repeat
when people say things like
kids can be cruel?
every school was a big top circus tent
and the pecking order went
from acrobats to lion tamers
from clowns to carnies
all of these were miles ahead of who we were
we were freaks
lobster claw boys and bearded ladies
oddities
juggling depression and loneliness playing solitaire spin the bottle
trying to kiss the wounded parts of ourselves and heal
but at night
while the others slept
we kept walking the tightrope
it was practice
and yeah
some of us fell

but I want to tell them
that all of this
is just debris
leftover when we finally decide to smash all the things we thought
we used to be
and if you can’t see anything beautiful about yourself
get a better mirror
look a little closer
stare a little longer
because there’s something inside you
that made you keep trying
despite everyone who told you to quit
you built a cast around your broken heart
and signed it yourself
you signed it
“they were wrong”
because maybe you didn’t belong to a group or a click
maybe they decided to pick you last for basketball or everything
maybe you used to bring bruises and broken teeth
to show and tell but never told
because how can you hold your ground
if everyone around you wants to bury you beneath it
you have to believe that they were wrong

they have to be wrong

why else would we still be here?
we grew up learning to cheer on the underdog
because we see ourselves in them
we stem from a root planted in the belief
that we are not what we were called we are not abandoned cars stalled out and sitting empty on a highway
and if in some way we are
don’t worry
we only got out to walk and get gas
we are graduating members from the class of
we made it
not the faded echoes of voices crying out
names will never hurt me

of course
they did

but our lives will only ever always
continue to be
a balancing act
that has less to do with pain
and more to do with beauty.

I am an artist.

I’m just now realizing that I am an artist. In every sense of the term. I love to create. Photography. Design. Poetry. Music. Painting. Loving.

My mind races to change the settings.
My finger squeezes the shutter.
The blank canvas draws me in.
My hand clasps the brush.
Empty room. Stark white walls taunt and tear at my mind.
The adrenaline rush to finish the job.
The excitement when all is done.
Bittersweet.
Melancholy.
I long to create again.

In everything there is art. And in art you will find everything that seemed impossible.

A Christmas Poem.

The time of Christ’s birth is coming near.
Leafless skeletons of trees stretch to the sky praising their Creator.
Barren fields bow their heads in awe of the Savior.
Rivers cease their motion, attentive to the babe born of a virgin.

The time of our Savior’s birth is coming near.
Stores strewn with tinsel and holiday sales, blare music that is far from worshipful.
Clerks yelling, “Happy Holidays!!” over angry customers fighting over the last of some toy that their child doesn’t need.
Family members shooting judgmental glances, and spewing sarcastic hearsay.

Remember this Christmas, a Savior was born, which is Christ the Lord.
In your travels and your giving gifts.
During Christmas dinner, and family fellowship.
Remember that Christ is the reason we are free.
His birth, His death, and His resurrection, freed us from sin.

So. Tired.

I’m just really tired.
Tired of the complaints.
Tired of the rumors.
Tired of the gossip.
Tired of hopelessness.
Tired of life as we know it.
Tired of hurting loved ones.
Tired of betrayal.
Tired of lies.
Tired of sleepless nights.
Tired of self-hate.
Tired of crying.
Tired of fear.
Tired of anxiety.
Tired of sadness without reason.
Tired of fighting.
Tired of yelling.
Tired of hate.
Tired of impatience.
Tired of disobedience.
But I guess overall I’m just tired of being tired…

 

I am Not Alone.

I tried to be perfect.
Tried to be honest.
Tried to be all that you wanted.

I tried to be stronger.
Tried to be smarter.
Tried to be everything; all for you.

I tried to be hopeful.
Tried to hide the tears.
Tried to be the best that I could.

I tried to pray.
Tried to be okay.
Tried to please everyone with my life.

I tried to be happy.
Tried to be prettier.
Tried to be the girl that everyone knew.

I tried to get better.
Tried to be a fighter.
Tried to fix myself to no avail.

I’m trying to let go.
Trying to surrender.
Trying to give everything to you.

I’m trying to love You.
Trying to serve You.
Trying to draw near, in all that I do.

I’m trying to worship.
Trying to reach out.
Trying to run closer to You.

I’m trying to forgive.
Trying forget.
Trying to accept the love that You give.

I’m trying to be patient.
Trying to be kind.
Trying to be the better of two.

I’m trying to grasp this.
Trying to understand.
Trying to figure out how You could love me.

Now I have found that I am not alone.
I have been made new.
I have been forgiven.

Now I have found that I am beautifully made.
I am perfect in Christ.
I am a child of God.

Now I have found that I am loved.
I am reborn.
I am remade.

Now I have found that I am His creation.
I am enough.
I am a sinner saved.

Now I have found I am not saved by works.
I am Holy.
I am accepted.

Now I have found hope in Him.
I have a future.
I am strong.

“I can’t tell you the key to success. But I can tell you the key to failure is trying to please everyone.” -Ed Sheeran

“Overthinking does kill your happiness.”

“Let your past make you better. Not bitter.”

“Sometimes you climb out of bed and you think, I’m not going to make it. But you laugh inside- Remember all the times you feel that way.” -Charles Bukowski

 

 

“sweetheart.”

Sweetheart,
I love you when you’re laughing.
I love you when you’re sad.
I love you when you’re fooling.
I love you when you’re mad.
I love you when you’re teasing.
I love you when you’re true.
And the reason why I love you,
Is just because you’re you.