Colonized

White

men on

horseback courting

free women as

they danced

above

shoeless feet into

fields and forests

with

indented backs

exposed, with

beaded jewelry

hanging out

and

between

sun’s light, while

dangling and

shaking

around brown

and sweaty

limbs.

Performance Songs

Seeing

performances of

historically rich pieces of

art. Wondering how beauty

could be so contained. Sitting

down then standing up. Clapping

softly then applauding as a roar.

Tears falling when notes of a

quartet sound like

flowers

falling on soil, learning how to

crawl, to move for the first time in

centuries. Four key players and a

title to go with and we pull the strings

of a chordophone when a player

sings off-

key.

via Daily Prompt: Quartet

To purchase my poetry books visit: Amazon

Thoughts on Exploration

Chilly

days and fire

places. Tea cup mixed

with words of creation. Blooming

flowers in tall vases with

enlightened candles spreading

the news. Torn apart pairs of

people, ripping through the streets.

Kissing strangers on faces ’cause we

all know what letting go means. So

they try to rephrase, rearrange old

pictures like, “That’s not how it was but

this is what they meant…” Reflections of

holding-hands on just-wiped store

windows with music blasting through

speakers, telling us how we should be

feelin’. She rips pieces of fabric, of napkin

apart as she hides in a bathroom stall,

reminding herself of the love that made

fun of her emotions, her peace – he chose to

rephrase and rearrange words of choice so

often-ly. So,

strangers kiss and ex-lovers let go ’cause

this is how we explore life as we forget

our shame of pausing for fairy tales

every once in a

while.

 

via Daily Prompt: Explore

To purchase my poetry books visit: Amazon

Flickers

When

time runs a

little late you don’t say

it’s inefficient. Instead you

blame the runner, speaker, or

teacher. You do not blame the

planets.

And so we live in this bubble

of confined time, created clocks, without

stopping for a moment to ask our-

selves where the hell it is we always

think we’re

going.

 

via Daily Prompt: Inefficient

To purchase my poetry books visit: Amazon

Characteristics

She

ran into a stranger while

visiting a strange planet; he

loved his double hearts, sold

gold-tinted phrases to laymen

like: “I believe in love” and “the more

the merrier!” She’d

thought he was telling the

truth ’til

one side of his chest stood then

fell with much less angst; who

flaunts half-love, says it isn’t toxic and

who believes admiring

whole-heartedly

is?

 

via Daily Prompt: Toxic

To purchase my poetry books visit: Amazon

Amour, Un Titre

<< Ouais, tu es divin – je pense que . . . >>

Sharing your soul with a body you desire isn’t always gold and sun. Sometimes they take a lighter to the most prized secrets, telling you of all the ways you could be less of this, more of that. Other times it’s apologizing for stepping on toes, for snapping words in half, for kissing scars too softly. Love is not what we were taught it was. It is a battle field of fraying wicker baskets, of half-dead-half-alive flowers gasping for air, of hiding-bombs and joyous melancholy.

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To purchase my poetry books visit: Amazon