Krista puts emotions from life experiences, into written words. Her poetry is a personal form of expression and at the same time, a release to free herself of pent up emotions, in hopes of making the reader feel present and experience them, with her. She strives to encourage and give hope to the reader. Krista is the 2016 Realistic Poetry International Contest winner. In her free time she mentors up and coming young poets and is an avid volunteer for many causes in her community, where she resides in Virginia, USA.
Krista has been published in Raven Cage Ezine, The Poetry Community, Tuck Magazine, Scarlet Leaf Review, Peeking Cat Poetry and many other literary publications as well as numerous anthologies.
Frederick Okonneh has been writing for over four years. He loves poetry, and has a personal relationship with books. His educational background in mass communication has given him a wide approach in appreciating the written word. He puts ink to paper, to express his soul, which often troubles him. Frederick resides in Nigeria, where he also enjoys drawing with different mediums. This is his first publication and will soon appear in Tuck Magazine.
Success simply cannot be found, perched on a chair, laying around in the house.
Nor does it pay to get angry, when momma asks me nicely, to iron her new silk blouse.
I'm a tiny squeaky mouse, desperately searching, for some stinky cheese.
Yet here I am, still in my hole, thanks to stressful anxiety.
Others suffer too,
even those that are hustling; as they smile all the way to the bank.
Sticking their noses in the air, as I walk by, glaring as if they just saw a skank.
The studios ready, I should be recording, instead I'm still bound to this house.
If I don't act fast and get right up, how will I ever find a compatible spouse?
Numerous problems to solve, depressions hitting hard; this wretched bed seems like the only safe place to be.
Why can't I catch a brake, for just a little while and set my mind TEMPORARILY FREE?
Haunting memories constantly play, in the minut creases of my bewildered mind.
Fiercely fighting against demons that continously dance until my thoughts appear to have committed a crime.
Born with what they say is a chemical imbalance within my desolate brain.
Diagnosis proved, yet I curiously question, if I'm feverishly going completely insane.
Inquisitively I search within harsh memories, for days I wasn't constantly feeling cornflower bleu.
Depression is a horrendous disease that keeps you from simply, just being you.
Rude, hurtful people pass judgement because their eyes cannot see within your wretched soul.
They are oblivious to the mere fact, inside, you're completely opposite of someone made believingly whole.
Medications have way too many side effects that grotesquely morph your outer being.
Toxic chemicals make you want to not believe exactly what you are seeing.
Counselors can flap their jaws until every single, mooing cow comes galloping home.
Unless you walk a mere mile in my dusty, rugged shoes, your inadvertent advice won't earn me a throne.
So exactly what, is a person to do, that suffers with this inescapable disease?
Straighten your crown, compose your mindbending thoughts and approach each glorious day, with ease.
Laying here in the darkness listening to the trickling of the beating rain.
Crazy thoughts overtake my mind; inquisitively wondering if I'm going insane.
Intensely struggling to recollect, memories from a horrific past.
Desperately seeking tranquility as I quickly begin feeling aghast.
Questions running rampid as I recall my so called life, thus far.
Haunted by unforseen things, that happened in the back seat of a broken down car.
Brutally robbed of my innocence, at such a fragile, impressive age.
My shattered heart begins to loudly thump, as my body rapidly fills with rage.
Curiously wondering if love and happiness, will ever be dominant in my life.
Thus far it has been marginally filled with excruiating pain, abuse and strife.
Constantly hiding behind a fictitious smile, while building a wall around my desolte soul.
Seriously doubting there's even the slightest chance, I'll ever truly be whole.
Again I find myself sad, for no one particular reason.
Desperately searching for happiness, while struggling to keep believing.
You tell me I have to create it, by loving myself until I burst.
Go on, tell me more; you most definitely, wouldn't be the first.
Crazy how I'm the one who who asked you for inspirational advice.
Questioning your answers, as I write these words, as if I'm gambling, rolling dice.
Impatiently I catch myself, miserably sick and tired of just being me.
Struggling slowly to branch further out, but I simply cannot vacate this damn tree!
So here I lay, again, in this wretched bed, completely all alone.
Anticipating yet, another tomorrow; petrified of THE UNKNOWN ....
DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY TREE
There's Crazy Danny, you're stinking drunk of a brother.
Messed up and broken, desperately struggling, to get his life together.
He plucks your last nerve,
while he clucks like a hen.
Quickly biting your lip, til it abruptly comes to an end!
Here comes your obnoxious, so called, Mother.
Always shouting at the top of her lungs,
as she's lays in the cold, filthy gutter.
What does she want now,
that crazy old hag!
I simply can't wait to move out, before she drives me insanely mad!
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the front door; who could it possibly be?
As luck would have it, it's the supposed 'head', of this DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY TREE.
Stumbling in after cheating on his poor, suspicious, wife.
Partying and infidelity, have become his normal way of life.
Well what about you, and your vicarious mistakes?
Mysterious eyes desiring love,
while spreading nothing but hate!
Unfortunately, none of us are perfect, no one's really that great.
You'll only understand, as much as your mind can tolerate.