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 May 2017 Hannah Jones
JS Clark
Pure winds
Beautiful prairie

Tall grass
Kissing the dew

Mighty fork
Winding tributary

Escorted by grass, fescue

Aged trees
Standing in groves

Greet the fowl of dawn

Talking bison
Muffled tone

Still awaken the merry prairie dog

Lone rider
Haulin' mail across the plains

Headin' west, for Sacramento

Indian fighter
On plains self-same

Will insure this mailman sees no tomorrow
 May 2017 Hannah Jones
Star BG
When I began to write
peace was mine.
I danced in steps
to the music of poetry in mind.
I wrote
sometimes in day,
or middle of night.

Eventually, my heart expanded
writing often until all my heartbeats
were of poetry.  
Every breath housed another poem.
Everything inspired me.

In time, I evolved meditating
connecting to source
and NOW...
Every cell in my body vibrates poetry.

Hooray, for me. I am blessed
with a golden pen, a waterfall of poems,
and loving soul.

StarBG © 2017
I'm not rebuilding
I'm growing
I'm not failing
I'm changing
I'm not running
I'm arriving
I'm not healing
I'm becoming
Blackbird baby
Wings of charcoal
You think the sky is falling.
Your lonely song
Straddling the wind
Searching for an audience.
The home you grew up in
Had white walls and high ceilings.
Pure and sheltered.
You thought the room was shrinking,
Pinning your wings to your sides.
But baby
You were just growing.
Destined to break down the door.
To let the art of your dangerous spirit
Use the clouds for a canvas.
Blackbird baby
You've been raised by doves.
They've passed on their sparkling reputation
But it doesn't suit your matte feathers.
You're a whole other kind of beautiful.

Blackbird baby
Wings of charcoal
You think the sky is falling.
You feel so alone
You don't see how they envy you.
Your mind is a weapon, my dear.
Never doubt it for a moment.
Your body is a treasure, my dear.
Love it like nothing else.
Your time is valuable, my dear.
Don't waste it on what brings you no joy.
These lessons you have yet to learn.
You see only the thunder in the sky.
But there's a world of rainbows to be discovered.
Blackbird baby
You find it so hard to believe
That you are loved.
But you are everything to me.

Blackbird baby
Wings of charcoal
You think the sky is falling.
You see pieces of it hit the ground.
The end in sight.
Let me hold you.
Let me hold your whole world
So tightly that all the pieces of the sky
Fit back into place.
Afraid of what could go wrong
You pin your own wings to your sides.
Force of habit.
But without them
How will you fly?
Blackbird baby
Open your wings for me.
Show me your dance of ebony
Like a silouette on the sunset.
Blackbird baby
Hatch from your prison

And soar.
For one of my best friends. Sometimes she thinks she's so alone and forgotten. She finds it so difficult to open up. No one has taught her how to fly.
 May 2017 Hannah Jones
Lizzie
This world is so centered on take
Love and romance:
It's never give or create

Love is seen as property
This broken world
Demands intimacy

Extracting from every being
Now love is nothing
When it used to be everything
feeling alive feels like
yellow flowers growing in my bones
and blooming on my skin
it feels like the sun rises
not in the east
but from within me
Every time he hit me
or called me names,
he would bring me flowers days later.
And I would forgive him.
What I didn't realize is
that flowers die.
Just like his sorry's.
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