There's a woman who bled for a dozen years
All she had to console her were her tears
But she was made whole when she touched your wears

You alone art God

This other man was born blind
He looked for solution but couldn't find
But when you came into the picture sorrows went behind

You alone art God

There's hope for a tree that is cut down
That it will bud again and leave the ground
At the scent of water running through the ground

You alone art God

my anxiety is a shadow man
he haunts my nights when I'm hallucinating
waits in the hallways
under my bed
in the darkness
reached out hand
he wants to take me


**he wants to destroy my sanity

The bitter irony of life
Is this:
It's the people with trust issues
Who hate being lonely
It's the people with everything
Who hate existing
It's the people with the widest smiles
Who hate smiling
It's the people who need love the most
Who remain unloved
It's the weak
Who are forced to be strong
It's the forgotten
Who long to be remembered

It is the shadow
That's frightened of the darkness
It's the chained
Who long to soar
It is the numb
Who long to feel
It is the people who crave an end to their suffering
Whom death eludes

I wish you could lift me up out of this place
We would fly to paradise
and dip our toes into crystal blue waters
We'd swim with colorful schools of fish
We'd watch a sunset in every city
Then we'd star gaze in the country
I wish we could waltz out of here
Unseen, unheard
I need to escape this black and white
I need to see color again
My eyes crave the sights unseen
My ears crave the music unheard
My body craves the adventure
My heart craves it with you
So lift me up, up and away
From this place
To a home far away
Where the city lights gleam
And the colors are vivid
All will be made new

I want to write a poem now
but really I'm too busy
I've got to get some gardening done and it's got me in a tizzy

chores and chores I hafta do
dishes, cooking cleaning
I need to focus focus
an somehow keep the meaning

keep the meaning of life in mind
trust in something better
maybe take a break to write
a long an poignant letter

but for now that dirt is callin,
a place to pull some ****,
***** knees and ***** hands
are really all I ever need

I will write again of worms an robins
an a glorious Vermont June
the month my sweet birthday comes
with my crescent waxing moon

another year just passes by
full of pain and full of bliss
I just raise a hand an I sigh,
cuz there's nothing
I would wanna miss

I just try to be ever grateful
for each day is a chance
to do it better
than I did the day before.

Ma Cherie ©2017

Inside this
depth of the perpetual,
I hold onto the light,
learning that
it is not an illusion
but a constant
            fire within
hard as metal
simultaneously lava soft
no longer boneless,
lumped jelly
              in a flaccid bowl
Instead I am bowled over
with new power,
plugged into
my own electric universe
in rushes of ******* voltage
that was always waiting for me
to see it
to allow it inside
the tissues of my body
to flow up and through
intestines, muscle, heart and bone
threads from
                 a glowing orb
that slake
and snake through me
like a river's glory
leaving the spirit on edge for more
and I am ever grateful
to take that light
                  spin it into a gift
                       unwrap it slowly
                            drape it
                              over me like
                                 a flowing,
unstitched garment        
pour its liquid-tipped velvet
onto my follicles, sensitive
tender luminosity
touching all the right places
its silvery essence
flooding me in
drips and slips
healing all the lost
and lonely places,
desolation's imprint
hollows of brimmed-over    
                        despair
I have become
a quivering, stellar bud
bursting forth, each day
                       burning into new
rebirth in quenching torrents
ripe as ovarian silk
soaked in
cellular juice
inner seeds ready to be flung
unto the earth
into the wilderness
into expansion
ready to
bloom
          and bloom
          and bloom
   again