I could never take critics seriously
They could never walk a mile in my shoes
They would never even try on my shoes
It’s comedic

Instead of contributing to efforts
Efforts are criticized
Instead of volunteering your intelligence
You bastardize

A child of Loves

I like to be the tornado in the shade
Uprooting trees that pervade
The serenity of Man

Don’t get in my way

I’m not a threat

Just a force of nature
A response
A reaction
A miscalculated nobody

You saw coming
Before you started running

Back to your forest for cover amongst the darkened

I could never take the bitter seriously
Like
Does your bitterness really have anything to do with me?
I greet all with sincerity and react accordingly

In defense.

I’d rather react with more Love to the Receiving

Some reach for this love for something to be eating

When their dead souls get hungry

Sorry,
I’m not on the menu.

Neither is my kindness
You will be called out
For your childishness

Victims of Ego don’t count.

Pout.

I’m grateful for hearing whispers in the wind, noticing little things and not giving a fuck if it bothers you

I mean, come on,
They’re your whispers
Your insignificant insecurity
Which you inflate for a taste of
Adoration
Just because you’re bored.

I don’t groom the wicked who use self-pity as a costume to gather a chorus of Boo-Hoo’s and allow their games of shade to ruin

What is true

With

What they construct as true

With

Their criticism

I see you.

And your background singers too.

You bore me.

If you can do better, do it.
If you don’t like something, say it.
Like builders and leaders do.

Separation is a tool for destruction.

Who you trying to destroy, Personally?

Or are you trying to build yourself, Personally.

Big picture viewers can put aside their pride
Come to the table with self-love and devise
A future in which all enjoy the pie.

You just want to be the Oven.

Take all the credit and still not be content with it.

See how boring this old programming is.

Welcome to the Future.

Shade is dead.
Criticism dead.
Smear campaigns dead.
Sabotage dead.

It’s more than Karma.

It’s a tactic for survival
Don’t be surprised at its arrival
You can’t control everyone

And for that, we are saved

From

The bitter
The judgmental
The separators

Do Better.

And embrace the love the ones you hate offer

It’s not personal, it’s just business
But when you make business personal
Don’t hide and run
When the names you shade become the faces to your face

Enjoy the taste
Of repercussions

Your tongue
Your voice
Use them wisely

Because others, as you, are free to speak too

And mirrors speak loudly.

I could never take critics seriously
They could never walk a mile in my shoes
They would never even try on my shoes

They try to step on my shoes

It’s why I dance barefoot and stay Good.

My Soul.

 

Liza Zayas is a lover of writing and dancing and celebrates both as a singer and songwriter performing as Luna del Flor. You can hear her collaborative sounds and experience life through her storytelling. She invites you to dance. Her poetry seeks to initiate dialogue by intentionally expressing consequences of love, lust, ego and self-respect.