Consummated Arrogance

The anguish of pride is a virginal bride

Willingly walking over  the threshold

Of disaster…

Refusing to be carried through to modesty

For she will have no master

 

She deserts the purity of humility

Leaving it slain as a permanent stain

Wrapped in defiled marriage bed sheets of deceit

Though the proof is now there

The anguish of pride keeps her blind… unaware

 

Will she ever learn that her mate will forever yearn

For the pleasure of a true coexistence – with much persistence

Daily longing to kiss her lips and fingertips

While in a strong embrace

Graciously savoring her would be sweet and humble  taste

 

If only she knew that as the morning dew

Falls and eventually evaporates

So would the anguish of pride

Gently drop…then gradually

Dissipate

 

 

Aside

The Tempest

The mind knoweth not

Where the heart doth go

As a lovesick breeze of eagerness

Carries it to and fro

 

Having no knowledge of where or why

That former blissful wind came

The mind is not at fault

Only life is to blame

 

For this tumultuous storm rising

Leaving sheer destruction in its path

And a desperate longing for peace

To replace that which razed from wrath

 

Whilst shards of glass crumble

Under thy very feet

Thou too dost tread

Upon reconstructable debris

 

Forgiveness is an everlasting mortar

Well mending fragments of a broken heart

The mind now knoweth whence it came

And surely now, where to start

 

Aside

In the Heart of…

Truth,

It resides in meaningful places, but

Empty facades of what could have been -

Yet cannot be are strained from

The solidity of

Solitude…

Preferring the brilliant glow of

Honesty, but facing

Rejection

From the other side of the

Facts of

Life…

Wandering aimlessly…searching for

Depth

In one’s own

Reality – suddenly

A loud shout from the

Heart

Brings fruition

 

Aside

Creepers

They walk in silence

They run in fear

They can only be heard

When we are willing to hear

 

When on a quiet stroll – typical day

We stop – enjoying the caress of a gentle wind

Suddenly, they are there

For us to take our surroundings in

 

Lying awake at night

Whether hot or cold

They slip through the cracks

Bringing new and old

 

We can use them

To create, enjoy, and build

We can destroy them

Leave them in an open field

 

To forget, to remember

To keep, or throw away

Our thoughts creep

On every given day

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aside

Life Goes Lyrical|Urban Dialect

I had a lot of fun with this piece…(silent mental beats playing in my head – again, I feel alive in the midst of severe brain fog/stress/life happening). My intent is for the brutally honest Southern hood dialect orientation to epitomize the concept of a life from any walk (and the stuff that comes with it) to be ‘felt’.

I hope you guys enjoy!

Life Goes Lyrical

dscf009314.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tired – try’in to steal a nap like a thief in a robbery

Sick – cause the weather bipolar like a fake real housewife on TV

Broke as the Ten Commandments when Moses stepped down from the MT – couldn’t believe what his eyes did see

Tripp’in – like a stumbling block in my way cause b****es be hatin on me

But still good, cause I ain’t a slave to the world sayin, “F*** it!” like ’2Pac’, set me free

 

Still be up – when my life be ’bout to crumble and fall

Come out fight’in – when my back is pushed against tha wall

Shawt – like a munchkin, but mentally standing tall

Throw at me what you will – whistle blown, flag thrown, my court – my ball!

 

Darkness invades – as if my midnight is on tha loose

Tie a big knot, rope it up, kick my chair, – look up at tha noose

But it ain’t for my neck, you damned silly goose

Just hang’in up all my hang-ups – time to let it all loose

 

Times got to get betta – that’s all I’m say’in

Don’t get pissed off at me cause U evol’vin and I’m still pray’in

No time for tha BS – put a cap on tha monkey-ass play’in

My miss’in link ain’t no invisible ape -

Just a nomadic biped – survive’in… gray’in

 

 

Aside

Homograph Haiku

Strings attached ensnare
The ties that bind are riddled with knots
Make bows and take bows

Aside

Nature Fixed

Most plants stay grounded while they grow

Bloom, and show

Their beauty, colors, and fragility

But this one has been uprooted; lacking humility

The sun refused to shine

Roots of deception and pride invaded

Where humble beginnings became jaded

Prideful ingenuity with rain grew

Feeding on the honesty of the new

Much like the dodder

But not exactly so

This plant will still grow

After a torrential storm sweeps it away

Its likeness of the dodder will fade and fray

The sun relents and allows

A species of  lone

Awareness; parasitic pride gone

Its petals open with newness of grace

Where strewn seeds from the storm landed in a place

Called home

Humbly grounded

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aside

Haiku

From a distance warmth
stands teasingly until it returns
chasing bitter winds.

 

 

 

 

 

Aside

The Collector

Small Gift Box on Pine

Image courtesy of sritangphoto / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I must admit that this poem was literally pulled out of me by an old yet new friend from my past (school) who has managed to reconnect with me in a big way, so thank you much MS COOPER!!! I also feel the need to attribute these words to another friend – YES, YOU CHRISTYB!  It is these two ladies that I in this case consider – (((drumroll)) – FRIENDS. You have both supported me from day #1, and both of you still make yourselves a very present asset in helping me to clear my overly filled (with whatever at the time) brain – via encouragement, genuine friendliness, and authentic support.

I can only hope that these two gems receive some warm light in return for what that they continuously give out. :)

The Collector

Her special box is hidden in her heart,

Filled with many colors,

Shapes, forms;

Collecting often, but -

Sometimes – not always the norm.

Before, they lay dormant…

Until the day came,

To awaken -

Those forsaken -

And forlorn…

With the sweet scent of friendliness,

And compassion true;

She acknowledges all forms,

Be it red, brown, or other hue.

The shapes never matter,

Because her love never ceases to refrain;

From spreading a scattered distribution

Of camaraderie over the lawn of  any species,

Holding the existence of pertinence -

To bliss and pain.

Keeping the old and bringing in

Those irregular -even blue,

The bright colors uplift,

While dark  rich hues renew.

She sets newness neatly,

Lovingly,

In its designated spot;

Publicly, with all the others, discreetly.

She will savour joy,

Togetherness,

For a time, many pleasantries ;

Until back to that special hidden place,

Goes the collector’s paper leaves.

 

 

Aside

The Zone

Image of writer's block frustration

Writer’s block frustration

I have been so frustrated and stressed lately that I haven’t been able to create ANYTHING along the lines of writing. I have not enjoyed being away from WordPress where I usually find solace in visiting to create whatever comes out – however, it is my daughter’s birthday today, and somehow I managed to come up with something like a freestyle-5- line-intertwining-rhyming-stanza situation – whatever! . I will enjoy today because it is truly a day to celebrate, and despite how weird this piece ‘sounds’ to me and how crazy the pic looks…it does represent my brain during the past week spent in a zone that I dread being trapped in against my will. Maybe this happens to force me to ‘break’ when I would normally keep it moving, so there’s always a bright side…yeah…I’ll just go with that! :)

The Zone

The blink of an eye takes me there;

But again, I missed the entire ride,

To I don’t know where;

Finding emptiness before me and on every side,

Totally unaware…

Pertaining to day or set time;

When I lost the urge to care,

For anything save words that rhyme;

So I decided to share…

Seemingly years since before;

The beginning began to begin,

From the uttermost depths beneath one lone shore;

Mixed with an extreme gust’s remnant of a caressing  wind,

Possessing all of nothing, but desperate for more…

Fullness of easily followed direction with content;

Amid the trek of reality’s sidewalk,

Wondering if it is not – or truly meant;

To abide disease induced superfluous rhetorical talk,

Leading to the source of reality’s truths being twisted and bent…

Horribly out of shape, creating sporadically atrocious views;

Of  life’s craving for selfishness during idle time spent,

Counting time against results sadly, not to uplift – but abuse;

A heart’s vision of what is whole, yet finding it rent…

Searching for the glue which is truth – it understands;

The power of authentic words created,

By hands;

Held together,  mutually, willingly, satiated,

Once again home with a sigh of relief – oh, that familiar land!

Aside

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