Poetry & Artist Gallery by Shadè Bowman

A multifaceted talent, master of words and concept art.

Cemetery of Gardens 

My thoughts all try to bury me although this ain’t no
funeral for the living,
They’d bring me offerings thinking that all will be
forgiven,
In reality I’m left shattered there alone having to
piece myself together,
Meanwhile…
gratitude hardly ever stares me in my eyes,
Just my thoughts,
but I appreciate me,
my higher self,
my lower self too,
and the part of me that I chose to hide from others
because I always get what I need,
even if the feeling doesn’t last long,
all that I’d have left of people are memories and
they all become characters in my poetry,
I bury those experiences in the dirt and those
thoughts grow into a beautiful garden too…
an experience so fulfilling that I have no choice but
to still question who?
Then the best parts of them are left on paper,
yet nobody can save me,
I don’t need all of that,
I never ask for that,
I’m good on that.
I save myself,
and the best parts of me are also left with them,
So they often return to soak up this energy but
I am no longer available for human consumption.
I blow like the wind and the trees take me higher,
I grew like the roses from the concrete,
Lighter,
Stronger,
But this ain’t no Thug Life type shit,
my roots are embedded into the earth growing
around those emotional coffins like I’m Gaia’s
favorite daughter,
How long is temporary when you attract the souls
who need to be shown what genuine love is,
They say healers must heal themselves right?
Or when the night falls they’re too scared to face
you until daylight,
But I will grow forever,
I will be your favorite memory here to remind you to
love yourself as you once loved me,
Cry for me until you water the grass that’s only
greener where you plant your feet,
Release whatever hurt that’s causing you to stay
stagnant and leave it here to die…
In the cemetery of gardens.
-S.Bowman

 

 

No. 5

“A group of powerful Babylonian earth spirits or
genii; servitors of the gods”, in my own right. I’ve
already been branded as the child of Phaeton. The
Marriage between Heaven and Earth has created
me as a Gene Of Divinity and I’ve been trying to find
my way back to the creator ever since taking that
Red Pill…I am.
The number of humanity, and yes…I’m aware of
the fact that I am divine. I am every piece to every
puzzle that has ever gone missing, and found again.
I am an Artist who sometimes paints outside of the
lines, the poet who doesn’t always like her words to
rhyme, and the over-thinker, who sometimes feels
like neither one. I… I am for the people but when will
they start to uplift me? What layers do I have to
shed to be worthy enough for your appreciation,
why must I be completely vulnerable just to show
that I have emotions? That’s probably what makes
me feel the most complacent, the fact that I’ve tried
to be society’s definition of “normal” for way too long
when they’ve never poured into me. I am so drained
from feeling everyone else’s emotions and
everything’s been so close to home lately. I’ve never
felt at home here at all though. The only feeling that
I know all to well is loss, and the only thing that I
haven’t lost is my mind.
I often take myself for granted, not purposely. But
at times I don’t know my power or how to even tap
into it. It’s a very long process to have to relearn
everything that you were taught, mainly because the
shit was a lie. Years of fabricated facts instilled a
sense of uselessness like nothing belongs to us.
But I’m here to inform my tribe that everything is
ours and that nothing is off limits if it’s meant for us.
The minute I started to detach myself from that
which caused me no good, I’ve been able to really
manifest what is beneficial during times of
reassurance.
I am here to experience life here on Earth while
parts of me are broken down into fragments just to
be cast out into the universe as lessons learned. I
am no longer the prototype in reincarnated
forms…I…AM…
-S.Bowman

 

Verbal Abortion

I flew over You,
in reality,
my thoughts, my dreams,
Over the clouds was probably the closest I’ll ever
get to Heaven,
Can my universe substantially shift in ways that my
mind can’t catch up with,
Or maybe I’m trapped in the definition of a place set
aside from eternity and limbo,
hell perhaps.
What are words without meaning,
how can I differentiate what I feel from,
what I say or,
What I know is real,
but normal isn’t real if false was never defined as
wrong,
In my eyes,
I see myself when I close them,
I only cry when I’m looking in the mirror,
for my sanity,
peace of mind,
I only cry when my eyes are closed,
In the mirror I’m still a mere image of what I choose
to be,
When tears fell I flew over you,
on this cloud I caught my tears,
Is this what liberation feels Like,
like captivity in the land of the free,
Freedom was taken by the brave,
and bravery was bottled up in the souls of the ones
who ran Scared,
So what is free if its not me,
maybe just my thoughts and they are kept in the
cracks of the walls where they can’t steal me,
Beautiful sinners don’t stand a chance,
but I won’t judge them,
together we stand,
even if we’re all on our knees,
I think I’m different,
if that’s still defined as unique,
I flow to the music of my spirit,
even if I’m just listening to my heartbeat,
Impregnated with creativity,
I choose to make love to your thoughts of me,
Today I might fly over you,
if that gets me closer to Heaven,
I’m just begging for my wings,
and if I could I’d take you with me,
We can take these words and break barriers,
release the consumptions of the world on this paper
now,
I Just keep telling myself that I didn’t ask to be here,
but I’m grateful that I get to experience pain,
hurt and the opposite of the two for what its worth,
I guess that’s rest in peace to the reality of my
nightmares,
I have no proof that dreams come true,
Although I may question my very existence,
my alter ego is subject to change,
If I travel through that time warp naked,
maybe I’ll be saved again,
Wiped clean of all my impurities,
than will all my Good deeds outweigh my sins?
But the terrorist in my mind has a mind of it’s own
so,
I visualized my reincarnation after that near death
experience,
All I crave is the quiet time alone with my thoughts
but I’m more afraid of the truth,
I won’t justify what I believe in,
those who consume can’t handle that balance,
Gravity keeps me high when I fly over you,
but that parallel universe lets me see those fears
that you sleep on when your laying on your back,
Instrumentality on cloud 9 floating trying to catch
grace,
since God has mercy,
Mentally taking pictures of the beautiful world that I
see when I time jump,
I gave birth in space,
I present the future,
I am Verbal Abortion.
-S.Bowman

 

CLICK IMAGE TO BROWSE THE FULL ARTIST GALLERY

« of 6 »

ABOUT Shadè

Artist born and raised in Baltimore, MD. I create abstract art using Acrylic paint and digital images. I currently hold a degree in Visual Communication that has allowed me to practice my skills as a Graphic Designer. I also hold a Sneaker Design Certification from The Fashion Institute of New York, and a Certification of Non-Profit Leadership from The PLI Institute. With a passion for the arts, I have been a Talent Scout as well as a Freelance Journalist. I have written for 3 magazine publications and was the Music Editor for Urban Freedom Magazine. From there, in 2021 I started to host a radio show called “The Great Escape,” where I interview other creatives. I have also self-published two books of Poetry – “My Verbal Abortion,” and “The Rebirth.” I am a well rounded Artist who enjoys connecting with other creatives.

FOLLOW Shadè

All of my work is on my Instagram: @5_theArtist

Visit Shadè Bowman

Leave a Reply