It's a journey with oneself exploring life hastily, but emotionally. One starts to find themselves in similar situations regularly and is affected by each one. As they're trying to understand life, their thoughts appear scribbled.
It's a journey with oneself exploring life hastily, but emotionally. One starts to find themselves in similar situations regularly and is affected by each one. As they're trying to understand life, their thoughts appear scribbled.
Preface
Before I concluded the name 'Scribbled' for the book, my thoughts were buried in a field of titles. I was close to done with all of the poems written, and one silent moment in the car thought 'scribbles.' That my poetry could appear scribbled in my eyes. I neglected the title soon after because how could 'scribbles' or 'scribbled' represent me?
After weeks of debating and hating the names I choose, I saw a scribbled art piece on Melrose Ave in Los Angeles, CA. I imagined what went through the artist's head when drawing their work and realized their journey. As we continue our lives day-to-day, every action comes from a hidden thought and so on. That there's no direct pathway on how to live our lives. That moving quickly and sometimes sloppily can enable something beautiful to become.
I hope you enjoy my scribbled truth. With love always,
Syd LeilaniÂ
Potentially Fall in Love
I could potentially allow the wind to sweep me off my feet
as long as the dust of love doesn’t plant its deceit
anywhere in my mind because that’ll be bittersweet—
war I’ll have with my heart, and man, I would be left in such a defeat.
I slowly built that bloody red brick wall after numerous times the trust miscalled and the honesty of the relationship was never installed
patching these bricks with long-feared awful tears hoping they wouldn’t fall
assuming that the emotions would be blocked out for-all,
but I see it potentially happening, does the dust of love have a meaning?
 During the blissful autumn season,
when the trees decide to switch the game up without a reason
and allows the dust of love to swift people off their feet like a demon
a tornado of hormones began to bundle up, leaving my heart screamin’
I understand my heart wants to explore, but what’s the dream in -- it all?
My heart wants the air to be crisp so that I can steal the guy’s jacket on a cold night. It wants the dust of love to smash our hands together in the light.
It begs the wind to spell our names in aroma bright—
enough, so it could be heard,
but my mind looks at the awful hormones in spite.Â
I’m constantly at war with my mind
because I’m afraid of falling in love blind it’s like going to the subway and ordering that dream sandwich combined,
but then,
they screw up, and you’re left there with this piece of shit undivine.
I want to be in love,
my heart wants to flutter with the butterflies above
yet the way the universe is acting like its something I should of avoided
and protected my heart with a glove
because love is something I cannot love.Â
I could potentially allow the wind to me off my feet,
but I know what that comes with—such a treat,
the insecurity in my mind on who he’s messing within the streets
jealousy and being envious on repeat. Is this what the dust of love does to in heat?
sweep
All of these problems are dwelled up from the past
it's not something I asked for-- it's how society
portrayed me, and I think they should recast.
Guy after guy simply wanting the same thing fast.
Should I give it up or potentially fall in love at last?Â
I’m your monopoly
Around and around I go
and with one roll of a dice
will decide how fast it’ll show
is the exhilarating feeling tiresome, no? turn me off, and the world will know manipulation at its finest
my heart is shaky, if I’m honest
the two surrounding me
one day will be pounding me
I hate to say it,
but I’m your monopoly
and your love is my property.Â
Our love had me locked up without bail
you committed the crime, and I’m okay with going to jail
and if anything happens, put my love on a scale
I’ll pass go with flying colors like those who went to Yale.
With you, I’m okay with the journey across the board
people may think it’s a game,
but with you, it’s so much more
so, the next time I roll a four,
be prepared because I have so much in store.Â
When I land on your property
I sometimes have to question my curiosity because of late nights at your home or apartment
have me begging for you to undress some of your departments
I’m sorry, I hate wearing garments
and love seeing your enlargements
my steady heartbeat would love to know when to call your defeat
I could play this all night long,
but remember, no matter what,
I’m your monopoly.Â
Journeying Through the Scribbled Pages: A Review of Syd Leilani’s Scribbled by Boakye D. Alpha
“scribble your heartbeat along the ocean
                  floor
each grain of sand connects to the amount
               of emotion
 behind your story patiently waiting for
           the waves to crash
    and the telling of your journey.”
I was moved by this. I got captured at the very beginning by these words—true and raw. I believe that “good” poetry should be able to stimulate both our senses and readers’ emotions, making it an immersive art form that is extremely powerful in connecting with their minds. Sometimes, poetry has a profoundly therapeutic effect on the psyche due to its communication of sentiments and language. With these established, I have reasons to believe that “Scribbled” by Syd Leilani has “good poetry” inhabiting its pages.Â
“As we continue our lives
  day-to-day, every action comes from a
hidden thought and so on. That there's no
 direct pathway on how to live our lives.
    That moving quickly and sometimes
 sloppily can enable something beautiful
                to become”
I practically read the poems out loud and man, were they a whole 7th heaven to my ears! I think these poems were not meant to only stay on just pages but to be performed as spoken word, also. The artistic merits of the pieces therein can not be underestimated.Â
I would focus on a few of the pieces below:Â
Patiently waiting:
This piece has the feel of waiting, obviously as the title implies. But it is one thing to title a poem about a concept and another to actually let your readers feel and BE exactly what you seem to communicate. Leilani achieved both seamlessly.Â
Yummy Land:
This poem, I think, philosophizes love—the feeling of yearning for someone you love—with food!Â
“The exploration across your board enlightens my curiosity, giving me a sweet tooth
beckoning for the truth
that lies between every color
that defines you
my curiosity craves more,
what do you have in store?”
Study partners:
This piece was rather unsettling as it was beautiful, poetically. Unsettling because of the subject its treats—rape. No one should ever have to go through that. Especially on their first time at college. This poem should be a means of drawing the attention of perpetrators of such acts that No, means No!Â
“Your hand was in my pants,
what couldn’t you understand about my no?”
“My pride interfered with his,
so I was shoved back down.
Did he think this was a game?
I was ready to walk away in shame,
he continued. He pinned me down
perfectly where he made dominance,
and this wasn’t okay. I tried moving him,
and that only turned him on in a better way.
How could I leave?”
There are other poems like “Ace of hearts”, “at Godspeed”, “beyond me” etc that resonated with me. Thing is, almost all the poems in this collection are captivating. And there's the way Leilani titles her poems.Â
In the end, this book lives up to its name, Scribbled, as the poems are scribbled with emotions, raw and true. Adding to that effect are the various scribbled arts immersing almost every page.Â
This is a book I would recommend to lovers of arts and poetry, especially those who do not subscribe to strict “form” when it comes to poetry but enjoy free verse and the likes.Â