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sherry-lore
sherry-lore
I am not changed by you or from you, but with you Like the earth and moon your pull attracts me, moves my ocean’s tides and I hold you steady, in an orbit, We dance, of pushing and pulling a starlit spin that lasts our lives I am not made by you or you by me but nurtured and renewed Like the wilting bud that life has already cut closed and confined, You are soothing water and I am allowed to open You fill me with so many possibilities and I bloom
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Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC
Anniversary
I always wanted to do spoken word poetry, but paper is too forgiving. It's so easy to pour onto paper what you think, how you feel. To become what they want... expect, hope, fantasize... to hear. If there's a misspelled word: bitterness, anger, frustration, blame... there is always the spell check. Or if there's a typo: misunderstanding, miscommunication, misappropriation... miss-everything... there is the backspace key. And if all else fails, and the words are too much: too far, too long... so long... there's always delete. And start again. Paper is too forgiving, I've imagined how it feels: scribbled on, removed from, blotted out. And then discarded once I've been read, or not. I mean, how much paper is recycled that's never even been touched... till it's tossed into shredder to be reshaped, remolded, reconstituted... to become something else. How many poems are written that never even get read. At least words spoken out loud have a chance if screamed... or whispered... loud enough, to get heard. Yes, paper is too forgiving
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Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 4:35 PM UTC
The Forgiveness of Paper
You can't go back to the beginning You can't start from the end At no point are you the same person You can't go home again In every heart there's an aching A desire to remain But with every moment there's a changing It will never be the same When you leave, memories go with you But your love may stay with them Like a phoenix, rise from the ashes Take flight and build again
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Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 4:46 PM UTC
Home Again
Do you know how it feels to be yelled at screamed at ***** slapped all that Hiding in a corner praying that it's over Do you know how it feels to be called names shameful things head games things you can't bear to hear Do you know how it is to feel ***** and unclean terrified, scared, mean angry enough to scream **** you to all the world and **** you, to you too Do you know what it is to feel like the bad words stick to you running you all through ripping at the real you rip and cut and **** me too Do you know how much I just need to take a bath wash away all the mad rinse all the sad scrub all the bad be careful you don't wash away, too
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Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 4:29 PM UTC
Do You Know
I tasted you the moment we met Our eyes meeting… the tranquil waters of the ocean Our hands touching… strong and worn like the Earth herself Our lips forming words and smiles… a private dance shared between us And then we parted, nothing left but the sweetness to savor You knew nothing, it was my own private taste, my own private moment I was cute, and shy… always “cute” and “shy” You were proud and beautiful… like a mountain that needs nothing more than to be, to display its glory. What hope had I that that single taste would become a feast But I would taste you again, your essence a vivid memory on my tongue And so we did meet again and again, mingling and parting Eyes, hands, lips… all practicing for some other destined occasion And you, becoming a craving, the desired main course for a starving woman After a time, I had lost hope of quenching my thirst of you As your flavor seemed to get lost on my tongue, Nothing more than a vague memory… an aftertaste I began resigning myself to a life of fast food and leftovers Oh, I had tasted… dined… on others But none could compare to your flavor, water to honeyed mead Or perhaps it was your flavor mingled with my own That created some epicurean delight that my senses could not let go of And just as I had reconciled my life to TV dinners and mac and cheese… there you are Eyes, hands, lips, coming to mingle and dance once more Letting me taste you again, and again Floating on my tongue like sweet ambrosia Our meeting, glances and gazes… Our touching, hands, shoulders, backs, thighs… Our dance, the words and smiles, Go late into the night And you remain, the taste becoming an appetizer… a prelude of the dinner yet to come Then a single promise… dance… kiss And as if we had practiced enough, I taste you again… and drink you whole.
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
The Taste
I tasted you the moment we met Our eyes meeting… the tranquil waters of the ocean Our hands touching… strong and worn like the Earth herself Our lips forming words and smiles… a private dance shared between us And then we parted, nothing left but the sweetness to savor You knew nothing, it was my own private taste, my own private moment I was cute, and shy… always “cute” and “shy” You were proud and beautiful… like a mountain that needs nothing more than to be, to display its glory. What hope had I that that single taste would become a feast But I would taste you again, your essence a vivid memory on my tongue And so we did meet again and again, mingling and parting Eyes, hands, lips… all practicing for some other destined occasion And you, becoming a craving, the desired main course for a starving woman After a time, I had lost hope of quenching my thirst of you As your flavor seemed to get lost on my tongue, Nothing more than a vague memory… an aftertaste I began resigning myself to a life of fast food and leftovers Oh, I had tasted… dined… on others But none could compare to your flavor, water to honeyed mead Or perhaps it was your flavor mingled with my own That created some epicurean delight that my senses could not let go of And just as I had reconciled my life to TV dinners and mac and cheese… there you are Eyes, hands, lips, coming to mingle and dance once more Letting me taste you again, and again Floating on my tongue like sweet ambrosia Our meeting, glances and gazes… Our touching, hands, shoulders, backs, thighs… Our dance, the words and smiles, Go late into the night And you remain, the taste becoming an appetizer… a prelude of the dinner yet to come Then a single promise… dance… kiss And as if we had practiced enough, I taste you again… and drink you whole.
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Words, Thoughts, scenery nothing but random memory passion in me Slippery soliloquy Sounding possibility, chance derived, probably I mind it like I find it Deriving, aligning, designing… bit by bit Thrown together, fantasy is what I take, I make all the words strung together like so many pearls, I break all the rules and boundaries Giving me power, and power frees the mind, my mind, my body, my soul, decrees That I do what I please, with ease... I tease... the words, the form and find the heart just one part, the start of the whole, the body, the soul of sound, its bound within me I struggle to make it resound and this is what I found I finally see, what's deep within me I'll be... Poetry and I'm free
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC
Poetry
I found myself buried deep within the womb of creation Lost, I climbed through the mud of life Pulling myself up on the bones of the ancients I broke through to the light, and heard the earth cry Rise, Woman, Rise I looked upon the face of the eternal Reaching upward, I tried to touch the sky So with my feet planted firmly in the past I grew toward the future, bridging both earth and divine And in me, the words rose once more, Rise, Woman, Rise After I had bridged the heavens, After I had delved through the mud I branched out towards the stars surrounding Souls glittering in the lonely sky Beckoned by a need, I reached to them But just out of reach, they twinkled distantly When a single answer I heard them call Rise, Woman, Rise And from my roots, I grew down deeper And from my arms, I reached out high With my fingers, stretched out longingly Glancing over them, I swept the sky Fingers clasped my own in their hands Pulling me towards their brilliant light Connected, I am tied to the universe Woven into the web of life And now, when I see another reaching, I cry out the words that brought me here, Rise, Woman, Rise
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Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 8:53 PM UTC
Rise, Woman, Rise
There is a metal in me... I am of iron as old as the ages Mother Earth’s very core fills my veins. I can taste her in my blood, I can feel her in my heart It is this metal that drives me forward, that holds these bones together that nourishes me and gives me life And in times of need, becomes my backbone so I will not fall under the weight of the world but will walk tall and proud in her splendor for part of the world is what makes up the very essence of me and, with her, I am stronger than any weight known
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Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 8:50 PM UTC
There Is A Metal In Me
From my glass cage, I look out upon the world A woman's mystery sealed inside a little girl I bit the bitter apple, swallowing knowledge whole Following the white rabbit, I left behind my soul Down through the darkness, I fell to the other side Deep inside the mother, I was born again and died The beast came upon me, offering comfort for my pain The pomegranate eaten, only his stories remain Despair grew inside me, a sad child to bear With myths all around us, the truth I did share A child born of red fruit, I hid you from the beast Born of the mysteries, I spared you from the feast From my swollen belly, a snake writhed to life The snake charmed me upward, back into the night And to the farthest reaches, she led me to the sea With mother's womb before me, I planted seeds of thee Diving deep within her, fruit's flesh fell away With fins and tales to sing of, the waters moved in sway Howling a war of hate and fear, the beast sought me out Searching for my hidden smile, he burned the snake in doubt And with his fires raging, he boiled through her sea Searching for salvation, he found only me Truth’s voice stolen from me, he took me to his lair And in his hidden heart’s chambers, he entombed me with great care He put me high upon his shelf to make the world forget Encased in this glass cage of myths, tortured to regret But my smile remains hidden, as your seed at last takes root I know the truth of myth and lie, for I have tasted your red fruit
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Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
Red Fruit
sweet, slippery juice sliding down inside tasting tangerine twists making tongues tied passions sway of palettes play, peaches soft and ripe juices jest of tasting best on gentle lips delight flavors savor tongues licks dipped in fragrant flesh lurid longings bittersweet left lingering orange afresh
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Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC
Tasting Orange