Category Archives: My Poetry

About me, My Poetry, Poetry, Stories, Writing

The two coolest sayings from the A2 psychiatric ward. – Nina

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I’ve spent some time locked up for being “loco,”.

I met amazing people, some completely there and others… completely gone. I had a girlfriend in one trip to the ward, fell into a sexual relationship locked up under the mental health act after she “escaped” literally… we parted ways.

We had crack dealers in the ward if you needed your fix. I met Kansr and Outlaw Ali there. Ali was my best friend when I was the most down and the most afraid I have ever been in my life.

Ali was murdered leaving my friends house a few years ago and it still really hurts… rest in peace Ali. And shout outs to TK the Kansr kid* stay bombing wherever you are.

My favorite psych ward sayings:

“The giraffe already peeked in that window”.

And

“Don’t worry, they’ve already cloned you”.

Fucking eh

Sincerely Nina

Stories from the worst ranked psychiatric ward in Canada. Rat infested, crack den, pill pushing rape trap.

 

My Poetry, Poetry

Nina Shade / Nina Yin – Dreams / Every Night (Slam poetry over J Dilla) 

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Lyrics:

Dreams….

I dream every night. It’s like I don’t sleep; I’m far to busy venturing rivers and streams, painting graffiti on infinite trains.

My dreams are what dreams are made of. My mind is the money so my vacation is paid up.

Tropical paradises on every turn. I’ve never seen so many gorgeous baby blue pools with pearls twirling my world.

I can fly if I want to and explore. I’m getting good, in fact I’m better than Peter pan. Taking off is tricky but I always land.

My dreams have music so I wake up singing with love. Lyrics that no conscious mind could think of.

My dreams have more amusing amusement parks than Californi and Dubai put together. My subconscious really got her shit together.

I have nightmares worst than Steven kings, but I’ve been into horror flicks since I was a kid.

But this is real time 3d and if it’s too deep I wake up n have some tea.

I dream.

Every.

Single.

Night.

I get lost in pitch black in my bed on a trip LSD couldn’t bring to light.

I get to live past futures; in surreal movements, clearer than glass to my mind when it computes it.

But my minds far more complex. More convex it sees more than I can comprehend.

How many times I saw the end or woke up to a new beginning, open my eyes and the rooms spinning,

Damn I’m dizzy that was trippy.

What were those lyrics I heard angels signings?

I turn the light on.

I got the light, write before it’s gone.

Pick up a pen and write down this midnight song.

-Nina

About me, My Poetry, Poetry

Why life is amazing. -Nina

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Every morning anew

Forever changing skies grey or blue

Rain or snow, it can be plain and dull

Fulfilling, exhilarating, heart racing amazing and full.

Of life…

Open eyes to wonder and ponder the vastness

Alas this beauty spans our atlas

Sometimes we cry and fret, shortly forget; another step

To be free once again and play pretend with our friends

Remember our mistakes and make amends

You can’t turn back time so take each step…

Discover ourselves, inside the soul that we dwell

Grasping aspirations and fascinations

We are alive in this grace, I’m grateful

This is why life is amazing.

We all are awakened.

 

Nina

About me, Anime, My Poetry, Poetry, Writing

Why?… a ramble. – Nina

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11849395_1620664041525281_32927345_n.jpgAn interesting thought.

I’m content in my body n that’s cool cause like… I was a boy once

I am rambling because one must ramble as a writer.

Cooking is a delight, I do it with love.

I miss the summertime when I fell in love, although I never fell out it was a beautiful time.

The never-ending sunshine I had the tan of a goddess, bikini on constantly.

Now it rains and seemingly only rains, it will pass.

I do a lot of art to keep my mind preoccupied by this weather prison.

What am I even rambling about and why are you reading this?

Go home.

Nina

About me, My Poetry, Poetry, Stories

The rambling concrete – Nina

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I’m beautiful with Audacity, “They call you Shade?!” He said. ” You’re shaded indeed…”. She’s nice with the raps. In depth, the homies in disguise he liked to say…

 I’m up many hours before the sunrise to explore myself. Dreaming of fleeting escape, no longer trapped. The raindrops scatter my city and it won’t be long before I’m unseen in the masses; trainbound. You don’t need fare for the Zion train just hop on board.

I’m beautiful with audacity indeed. I love my markers and spray paint; my skateboard and my slap sticker collection of winking flowers and dripping calligraphy. My magnum markers leave them to manage the damage; I’m constantly redecorating the City.

I’ve found my comfort in the dark places and euphoric ignorance. Through the streets and alleyways, trains and buses. I watch this shit twists and turns over many years amongst this science of drug trade and gentrification . It doesn’t take long to be immune to the needles scattered along the pathways, human feces and drug trade swap meets. We got it.  And it’s all for sale.

“Come here girl…”.

I found my home in the streets at a young age; my concrete playground. I’ve found… something… I see something. The streets are yours was the message written along the tattered wall. I want nothing from it, perhaps peace or a sense of purpose. Surely not money nor a drug rush, I have left such in the past.

Just “Be easy going,”.

 

Nina

About me, Love, My Poetry, Poetry, Writing

The Inner Child by Nina Yin

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In a sense I am lost; feeling childlike in constant exploring of earth and oneself. I am, in a sense found; by my morality with love…and with compassion… I find myself restless in time, for time is complex. The mind cannot comprehend time nor comprehend anything in completeness. The Tao of existence unwordable, incomprehensible…

We are not all knowing beings but the fabric of existence has underlying comfort whether it is productive or not. Even terrible mistakes create great lessons. The child knows love most, your inner child craves it.

Life is complex in a mathematical sense but extremely simple in the aspect of conscious thought.

That being all that we have.

I trust this universe more than I trust myself. I say this in a sense that I do not feel in control, but the rain outside my window… it is bringing life to the earth; as is the sun, moon and the stars. Endless bounded in infinity… ; that is something I can trust. Allowing the universe to take control helps me in meditations and allowing what I cannot change.

Simplicity is bliss and sometimes in my childlike absence of self awareness, like when I draw a picture I am not drawing a picture. If I am absent and I perhaps simply am: the picture.

But as my inner child finishes the creation.

I must return to the grounding incomprehensible earth.

Here I am again.

 

-Nina

About me, My Poetry, Stories

Tea . A Zen Story; rewritten by – Nina

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A Buddhist monk who studied and meditated on the teachings of Buddha for over a decade wanted to speak with an enlightened one who dwelled alone in a small temple high in the mountains. He prepared for his journey eager to hear his teaching. After 7 days of rigorous hiking he reached the temple.

The master greeted him and welcomed him inside. The master put some tea on to boil and they sat in silence. The monk became very eager and unsettled in not hearing his teaching. The master poured the tea and sat with the monk. The monk didn’t drink his tea and began questioning his master of Buddha.

The master replied.. “You have studied Buddhism for 20 years and can not simply enjoy this cup of tea?” The monk wept…. as another step to enlightenment lay under his feet….

Nina Yin

reblogged on WordPress.com

Source: Tea . A Zen Story; rewritten by Nina Vestergaard.