Tag Archives: Suffering

NonFictionSlamComposition. Im back. – Nina


Everything is falling apart; but everything is coming together

Destroy and rebuild; rebuild and destroy, Yes I endeavoured

I created a world and left it behind n I…. Still shine.

Creating a new place; place n peace of mind n I’m

Suffering uncomfortably then suddenly…

Comfortable nonetheless!

Blissful in nothingness*

My 3rd eye moonshine remove I from crude times..

Zen bends my lights to the contexts that I suggest

So the world is mine and I am simple sublime

Construct my life obscuring obstruction

Its my life; I play like a conductor

N My heart beats like percussion

And I’m not scared to die like life is nothing

But I die to live; my life is mine to give

Forgive me for living like what I got to lose is nothing

What would you expect in this time of glutton?


Life is something.






Bipolar described in poetry. By Nina

When dreams and reality mix; my mind twist space n time.

Sentences in my mind incomplete and jumbled.

The pain is unbearable and I can’t focus.

The thought train is overwhelming grandiose negative paranoia.

I lose track of myself and memories begin to be erased.

Chase down 3 seconds of comfort; only refuge from this place.

Alone with my screaming demons, what is the reason.

Enhanced senses, feeling too much and too deeply.

Dreading the next breath I’m light headed.

Subconscious embedded schizophrenic essence.

Tears run down my face, my lover can’t help be afraid.

Interlaced emotions continue to confuse, I’ve lost my view.

Distrusting earth, corrupting everything I’ve seen from birth.

There’s nowhere to run or hide. I continue to gun this fight.

I’m a soldier fuck this shit. I’ve done this shit a hundred times.

Switch my mindstate from afraid to irate.

I’m right the world is Fucked Up…

I’d Love to make it better tomorrow just weather this storm.

This isn’t even real, what I feel; it’s chemical sorrow.

What good is a good day without bad ones. I’m attached to this aura.

I’m glad I can come out on top….

I was trapped and caught up….

Strapped to a mattress and shot up…



Zen Poetry: The trouble is. – Nina

I was fine with the struggle but the trouble is…

“The struggle is,”.
Beautiful the struggle is…
But painful, the words mustering.

It’s said life is suffering.
I attempt to uproot But the trouble is; the suffering.
“Has deep roots “.
I must attempt to uncover this…

Where did all begin? I’m wondering…
The trouble is, wondering the suffering roots is;

Meditating on uncomforting subjectives, suffering and
All of a sudden I find nothingness*
Even the monk searches by searching “nothingness,”.

The trouble is…