Author: poeaxtry_
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“Hand Off” A Protest Poem for Marginalized Rights
“Hands Off”
An Original Poem by: Axton N.O. MitchellHands off my hormones, my sexual reassignment surgeries,
my right to the pursuit of happiness in my adult life.
Leave my genitals alone that isn’t where my gender finds its
home.Hands off the people of colors right to any space, to work any place
they hold the skill, to live like you and I.
Racial differences shouldn’t cause a divide.
Your grandpa lied.Hands of the disabled persons right to accommodations just so they can
get by, this doesn’t equate to extra benefits. Not a sent misspent.
Getting help to get by does not put you ahead of the other guy,
welfare and accommodations never made the recipient close to rich.
Let the children learn how the teachers see fit, after all there were
educated for it. Hands off of education a child’s mind is delicate.
American history in all its glory should be an elementary horror story.Hands off the migrants and immigrants they have lost their homes,
all they have ever known. The families they may never reconnect, all for
a slice of the American dream. The least you could do is let them be.Hands off of all our differences.
This is the way we were meant to live; This is what the melting pot is.
You won’t erase the likes of us, no matter how forceful you shove us
to the ground.A Submission for “Voices for the Voiceless” by: Axton N. O. Mitchell
🖤What lingers, and what fades too fast?
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Traditional: A Poem on Family, Identity, and Breaking the Mold
Original poem by: Axton N. O. Mitchell
Featured in “Voices for the Voiceless “I keep seeing the terms family and marriage
mentioned everywhere…Traditional things are seemingly, under attack.
You know the bully always…. tried to hide
and lie.
What is traditional for you, and traditional for me
do not have to equal the same sum.If we could locate the beauty in our difference.
A wlw couple, a mlm pair too,
two close roommates,
a human and any number of pets,
any gendered parents
and however, many kids, adopted,
stepped up parent and all,
and yes, even t for t can be a family.
A marriage between two loving human beings consenting
to spend forever hand in hand,
no matter how many times
they mend their bond. This connection is just as strong, regardless
of their gender assigned at birth.
Let them walk the aisle to the altar,or they will jump the broom or tie their hands in a fasting ritual.
If you can take on wife three,
and your mistress still pretends
not to see, keep your prying eyes off of me…
when speaking of traditional things.
People in glass houses shouldn’t throw🖤What struck you most — or left you uncertain?
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“The Little Girl Inside Me” A Poem on Self-Discovery and Acceptance
Axton Mitchell age 5 pre school
“The Little Girl Inside Me”
An Original Poem by: Axton N.O. MithcellDear younger self, you grew up enough to reach the top shelf. The road there was laden with hard lessons,
you will wish you got at least one more try at a few, or more. To settle the score.
Kiss mom before and after school,
the day will come she’s no longer there physically. You will miss the tedious “annoying” things she did out of love. Arielle don’t worry about making guys you don’t have interest in grow fond of you… This will save you a mess or two. You don’t know who you are, don’t go wondering too far
down the road of life without any sense …. self-awareness in needed for
you see the other side of me.
Arielle, it will fit like a key. It’s quite humorous, that’s not a name we are used to anymore. When you look inside you
at the real me… you will understand.
What’s understood doesn’t need explanation.LoveAdd Axton to the equation and find your true self. You will really know what life is about No one could love you before you knew the real you
Split in two denying the fact, you are you. Gets us nowhere.
Either way you are
still “a real boy”
now and forever.Photo of me at approx. 6-years-old accompanied by a poem by me at 33-years-old original work by Axton N.O. Mitchell
🖤 Help me see it through your eyes.
What would you refine or change?
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Taking the Leap: My First Literary Submissions and Early Wins
The last risk I took was two weeks ago…
I sent out submissions for the first time to literary magazines. As of today 4/25/25, at approx. noon eastern standard time I
Have received back 2 approvals and 1 rejection. With a success among poets being a slim 5-20% I would count that as a win.
Since receiving my first approval I have started a poetry discord to create and grow with other poets and artists, and
started this word press. I plan to continue to seek publications as well as still self-publishing.
Thank you for reading.🖤 what do you think about the risk I took? Would you or have you taken it? How did it turn out?
Axton N.O. Mitchell
@poeaxtry_ -
“The Good Guy” A Raw Poem on Betrayal and Toxic Friendship
“The Good Guy Friends Til’ The End”
An Original Poem by: Axton N.O. Mitchell
You said it just like chucky
“We’re friends ’til the end!”
My favorite childhood movie
You pulled a nostalgic string, loose.
Thread worn and weathered as my soul
already was.I ignored the neon blinking red flags
blame it on bpd blacks and whites. and
always needing to see it for
myself, won’t take the word
of someone else.
When it would be the one thing to save me.
The end on your screen.Somehow my mom dying prepared me
for many things.
Though you aren’t close to dead
you are worse than buried to me
I see you as below the enemy
supposed to be my brother
from another.
Is this why you lost your
living family?Can’t stay ten toes down for
someone always plotting on
worsening
anyone’s misery.
so full of fucking
negativity. No matter how much positivity
is wasted on your perpetual
self-inflicted rain clouds
and yet….we’re both still breathing.
I should have known words have no meaning instead I listened when you said
“We’re friends til’ the end”
Hey, how come neither of us
Is dead? You use people like a
habitual liar does lines
neither can keep anything straight
from the chaos they create
and pretend is out of their control.A pussy who can never
stand by his whole
truth, open your eyes…
blinding them to the truth
Won’t change
Their root… here’s a clue
The problem is always you.
Change your name until you
find one to
fit a chameleon,
changing its skin.Problem, liar, and other choice
phrases you’ve heard
a time or two.
Pos but you’re good at your game.
When your friends go through
Emotional pain plan your attack.
You are that fucking Wack.
Sabotaging every good thing
sent your direction.Maybe you deserve
wallowing in your
self-inflicted emotions.
Alone for eternity.
But I will keep pressing send
sitting here left on delivered
not even making it to seen
embarrassing.🖤Praise, questions, critique — all invited.
