Through times of unbalance
We stand on weighty scales
Pondering each side
Which wins, which fails
The sun goes down each day
Like an anchor in the sea’s floor
We graciously abide with less, while needing more
Smiles of momentary bliss flow
Though not many deeply know
One reality from another
In the life of a strange mother
Trek through a Thought
28 May 2016 5 Comments
Menstruated Relevance
18 May 2014 4 Comments
It’s birth was a self-proclaimed excitement of newness from the very start
But what ejects from the mouth surely comes from the heart
I don’t know if you know that I happen to know
That seeds planted in the moment will flourish and eventually grow
Into a thing expected, but certainly not hoped for
Sometimes, we pray for a disengaged cap-off
Or a magical hinge which closes the door
On negativity, complaints, and unrealistic hopes for
Ungracious favor – amenities; those things realistically not in store
For you? Me? No!
When unable to take the heat, one must pack up and go
Inside of self to find and oust the true yet vicious culprit
The answer won’t be found inside a gurus spirit, nor a sanctimonious pulpit
The guru needs to breathe and the preacher has his own life
Which is also filled with possessiveness, the God complex, and strife
But as long as I know that I know what I do know
You too can learn this way to evade being tossed to and fro
Through the thick and profuse forest for that very tree
Which stands in your way, though you refuse to humbly look and see
Me
The one and only one who truly understands
The plight of a queen, the fight of a man
Through the blackness of our blood, sweat, and unceasing tears
Though none go with, we remain adhering for years
Coming out and going into the sweltering furnace of death’s hell fire
Toiling, blistering, and carrying the dead weight of an anvil’s desire
There is always an insidious calm before the impending storm
When she is weary, debased, and facing a hope forlorn
It is by pure faith that dreamed hopes will one day be one
Until then, this pillared woman’s work is now done
She patiently waits for that grand day of relief to finally arrive
When menstruated relevance cedes, lays down, and
For the time being
Dies
Consummated Arrogance
14 Apr 2014 9 Comments
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
In the Heart of…
10 Apr 2014 11 Comments
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
Creepers
08 Apr 2014 12 Comments
They walk in silence
And they run in fear
But they can only be heard
When we are willing to hear
On a typical day’s quiet stroll
Comes the caress of gentle winds
When suddenly, they are there
As we take our surroundings in
While lying awake at night
Be it hot, pleasant, or icy cold
They slip in through small unsecured spaces
Bringing with them good, bad, new, and old
We can use them as we please
To create, enjoy, and build
Yet, we can also completely destroy them
Leaving them for dead in an open field
To forget, to remember, to cherish
To keep, or to throw away
Thoughts and memories continuously creep
On every given day
Life Goes Lyrical|Urban Dialect
06 Apr 2014 8 Comments
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
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
Homograph Haiku
01 Apr 2014 2 Comments
Strings attached ensnare
The ties that bind are riddled with knots
Make bows and take bows
The Collector
23 Feb 2014 5 Comments
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 savor joy,
Togetherness,
For a time, many pleasantries ;
Until back to that special hidden place,
Goes the collector’s paper leaves.
The Zone
20 Jan 2014 7 Comments
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!
Or Else
08 Nov 2013 9 Comments
Thinker thinks about how to take sun burst shot (Photo credit: davidyuweb)
All eyes fixate
On what lies before them;
All minds create opinions
Of what has been seen..
All brains collect
Data
According to what is produced;
The average, the mean…
From darkest brown
To Amber,
From cerulean blue
To emerald-green…
All eyes see the same –
Every mind works alike,
But opinions often differ
In what has been seen…
Is it because
Of Freedom,
Or could it be
Functionality…
Could it be that both works
Work to produce
The mind’s own rationality…
When raindrops fall,
Do you see mere water,
Or are they
Transparent particles of life…
When you hear a love song,
Does ‘musical piece’ come to mind,
Or imaginings of a melodic overture
From a man dedicated to his wife…
Certainly, all eyes view
The beholden –
Beautiful, physical and natural wonders
Of any given site…
But it is solely
The beholder;
Mind, thoughts, freedom and functionality
Which defines actual sight…
All things creative –
Musical, poetic, colorful, rhythmic,
Seen, heard, and felt
Are remnants of a piece…
Of creativity –
Constructed, balanced and
Made;
The beholder’s
Freedom and functionality bringing you peace…
Our own functionality collects
What we see, hear and feel
In a creative world
Which naturally compels…
All eyes and minds – ears, and hearts
To receive creations freely,
Either the same way – sometimes
Else…
In all
That we give,
And in all
That we create;
Complex reception
Of sights from the site
And peace from the pieces
Define true talent that all alike appreciate!
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