Lady with a wagon
Doting on oneself
Her dazzling fabrics dancing through the faris wheel of her reclaimed birthrights
Essence mixtures and blessings over what covers her
Honor and gratitude toward the ritual wheel of fortune
The wheels of justice turns for her
So she cannot fathom a busy life
Little tings make up her days
Sun light floods everything she does
Floating on thunder thighs to and from her nest
Pleasures dipped in nostalgia is her only meal
Wagon lady
Catch her strolling neighborly streets
Belly full and dirty raw feet
Haunting
Smokey listeners
Reaching for the shallow limbs of black
They sink and wail to discover life
And so I remain, printed and somewhat flaky
Together, forested in fictions
I lie to myself when I stretch out of the hopeful comforts
I’m picked as bark
The dog days are quite holy; haunting
The body was muddy and dug out of void
Being, holy as well
Peer through
Identify me, then leave me to be, leave me alone
As I grow feral to the moans of cicadas
I will touch the golden skies in faith
The ones I indulge in and tell stories about
Secrets
They would call me insane if they knew of the voices I have above my head
They would call me insane if I told them of my enlightened mind
So they want us to think aloud
And share all our secrets?
“Hello, hello?.. You’re missing out on the moody sun and motherly sunsets.. You’re a heatwave hands down.”
“You were made of satin layers and old linen sheets.. How ripe to meet you in heaven’s skies.” 🔸🕯️✴️🕯️🔸
Persistent Light
The light stood erect in the moonlight
Attempting to project its glare
Onto the damp bay
Struggling glint cutting in bits and pieces
By the selfless oak shining in the spotlight
And as I observed through broken glass
I raise concern and a sense of identity with the persistent light
If I should admire all that survives
all that clears the ridged paths
In vigorous praise or failure
Nature & nurture
Pink
Cotton pink undertones
Close by with gentle age
She was creamy, so soft
My eyes sparkled as we met
Pixie baby looking all confused
Going for a ride with mine
I sit silent
I study her magic
The way her skin rainbows
The concern in her delicate sweet face when I leave
Reason
I always come back to sadness
Maybe it’s a shape shifting anger
Maybe we’ve hung her; together
But it’s all I ever knew, it’s whom I make true intricate love to
I inflicted upon me paired with hesitations and soon to be’s
cause well maybe I’m human
I sink through all your deadly seas
I sort through my pieces of wool and used flannels and cloth
And I touch the human in every passerby knowing it’s never enough
I touch the heart that aches with stone burning parallels
I touch the mouths through mountains of victims as the dead sings farwells
I vow to be untouched
It’s not enough to breathe in and exhale my stomach, my liver; my heart
It’s hard enough to wake alert and dress up the rest with the earth’s hardened dirt
Soul tied to a suit and some layers that aren’t mine
But to most it’s fine, some say quite divine
I couldn’t harm a fly; I wish to kill a billion
And so
I harm the self that promises to let things go (let things sow)
Burdened by the death of each solitary season
Hands pressed in pulses pleading to be granted the sights of a hermits reason
Winners war
I’m not sure of what I am feeling, my heart can break, my ego; callous
What keeps me asleep is a range to run
Emotional in wake I bake the sun
Holes of bittersweet spit up, you nuzzling my breast till numb
Turning in, on and off
Tuning off, out and in
I attempt to sing those sensitive songs, I pretend with oneself, playing once upon a time
There’s no where to go as my soul is magnetic to your salvation, even here the space of our bodies deafening
I don’t know exactly why this fight takes flight, ideal is a winners war; no casualties
Newness
What news!
The arrival
And the departure
Both equal in value and pleasure
To the adventurous wondering soul
