I can't see my self in this head space.
I need the constant rhythm, I need to keep time
But this clock doesn't have a second hand.

My "living in the now" is everyone else's nostalgia.
I always feel like I'm living two years in the past.
I guess that's how long it takes to absorb the impact
When the collision is head on.

When I was younger I was always told I was mature for my age.
Thank you, it's the abuse.
Thank you, it's the ****.
Thank you thank you, it's the trauma.

I'm not being honest,
I'm being truthful.

You and I,
buried beneath the coruscated winter sky
In taciturn stillness,
half-enraptured by the unmasked glory,
and half by the unasked in the others eyes.

There is no time to hold us;

There is no other moment.

Volatile, visible breaths,
The almost- touch of our fingertips,
and the quiet intimacy of our insignificance against the endless, open sky.

You,
My darling,
and I.

He: I am not feeling very talkative tonight.
She: Oh, shut up.

-a humourous collaboration with zebra :)

I have been too long in the world.

I am frayed at my edges
chipped
cracked and broken in places

I have been too long in the world.

Have listened too long to the
THOU SHALT NOTs
the
I WANT IT ALL MY WAYs
the
IT'S MY RIGHTs
and I have let them dry the lake of my soul
with their drains and siphons

I have been too long in the world.

I shall use the golden joinery
of the Japanese art
to honor my frayed edges
weave a golden, or silver, or platinum
thread through them
fill my cracks and broken places with lacquered metals

I have been too long in the world.

other edges, smashed to smithereens,
will be left as they lay
jutted, stiff
while the softened, smashed powder from them
I'll keep in a medicine bag
and mix it, as needed, with my blood
stirred into a salve, a queen of healing

I have been too long in the world.

my thousand-times-broken heart
repaired and repaired and repaired
and re-paired
I will wrap like the gift it is
with the gold of Love
while laughter falls from it
salve regina


c. 2017 Roberta Compton Rainwater

I’m 5’9”, loud and strong. 

I’ve got big hair, perfect brows and a straight back.

I radiate confidence, sexuality and metaphorical ***** as my curvy hourglass figure walks with purpose down the street.

My attitude says “There’s nothing I can not do.”

My eyes say “You wanna fight? I’m ready.”

To them, I’m a lioness. 

I protect all that is mine — except from myself. 

Behind the facade, I am small. 

Behind my words, I am afraid. 

Behind my sunglasses, my eyes are wet. 

And under my luxury lingerie, I am naked, just like my soul is when I’m writing.

I’m not who they think I am, are you?

words are dying
painfully
in a hairy storm
of electric eruptions

beckoning winter’s
deathly tempest
rampart
like an iceberg fist—

—My fires have been talking
far too closely with my waters

of how our love
could be a rock elephant—
a temple, whole, or magnificent
like an incantation
on a balanced leg;
but you, scissor-cat
of forget-me-nots;
but you—favorite
flower eating our paper mouse:
pining affection is thin
and imbalanced inertia
in love is a bolted door.

My mother you've got value.
More than you know.
My mother you've got strength.
If only that tight grip you'd let go.
My mother you're beautiful.
Like the evening sun.
My mother you've done everything.
It was all you - one.
My mother take it easy we are grown.
kick back and step down from the throne.
My mother you've made this family flourish.
Now watch and put in what you need to nourish.
My mother you worry.
Too much about future and past.
My mother you've done all you can.
We'll not put you last.
My mother we love you.
In our hearts all of the days.
My mother we need you.
All in our own ways.
My mother I wish you happiness
I can't bear to see you sad.
My mother I wish you tranquility.
In life its not worth being mad.
My mother I wish you happy birthday.
I wish you all I can.
My mother you're our everything
A big love from your youngest man.