To the eyes who see me blinded by preconception
You have named me timid, fraid,  traumatized, sad, shy, recluse alone
Fearfully quiet
You present me a victim who cannot stand ,speak, serenade, seek, spreading self strong against the world
I challenge  that you have not understand the me that  was so quickly judged in prejudice
You have not seen the courage ,resilience ,strength, stubbornness power that. Is me
Pray take your weak minded thinking and look closely as perhaps what you are judging is more self then me
I have been and will be ever  be moving with each day firmly underfoot so that I know  what I am ,who I am, and where I will be

Mother whelped me on a Sunday in
A storm of curse words as if
She was trying to push my stubborn little ***
Into a place I did not want to be as if I had an opinion in the matter
I suspect I simply slid out when she was
not paying attention

I was the youngest of 12 and Mamma had been told by the  ladies of of her church that she should not have children  and vowed she had been lied to
Daddy charmed momma like a preacher though he had never seen the inside of a building where they had talked about Jesus the lord or anything that wafted of religion

Mother denies any attraction to daddy though I suspect that this is not true. Lies say I as she lay with him enough to get quickened 12 times --that requires more than just a tasting.   I suspect the taste turned bad as I waasbthe last whelp from that sire

There is little to know
I am all that I present
No secrets, no snares
No scandals hidden beneath the bed

Open and flowing are the pages of my life
Written full of words loud and proud
Seductive, strong, sorrowful all spewing
Crowding pages with clattering verbs

So it shall be left to you to read the words
Should you choose
Write I shall continue to do for
The reader who will welcome words of of mine

I have marched to a different band
One that is out of tune and so bad  that everyone else went home
But I understood the shrill notes, the  mismatched beats
Musicians who won't read music or keep in time
Chaos touching places convention never knew
Evoked a calmness on my wondering mind
Magic happens when chaos becomes convention
For a moment   I am a part
But then I seek another chaos place to be
Until that too shall tune in on me

Morning beckons
New adventures abound
Life calls richly and loudly
Pleasures to taste fully
Open doors give much light
To clear all doubt and fear
Journeys begin where darkness end
Pathways clearly marked to be seen
And so shall I embark to the next step
with steady gait and forward walk

We live

We breathe

We eat

We talk

We touch

We see

We Feel

We ****

We love

We hate

We ****

We do not understand

start life again, tasting life in small bits and -
-grief is wicked and long--I needed to have an end and through the journey met you-
-discovering excitement expectation, lust and being held again--
all sorely missed.  
I will just say intense colorful emotion--
I forgot how much color there is in emotion--bight greens, blue and whites.

words seems to have little need for me

while i can not live without their rhythmic cadence

waltzing in minute areas of my mind

whispering hidden meanings in my dreams

waking me with waggery boldly spoken

when i try to reach in for them they run

wildly from me to wide strewn places

waiting to trick me in to wornderment

with a quick ****** i catch and in

wonderment place them on this page

Images of ideas that

slowly crawls night

it creeps and peeps

through cracks and cranny

rich warm nothingness

giving solitude and seeps

directly into my soul

screeching to halt any

thoughts but you

you left without calling

no message or note

just nothingness




odd bits of you scattered around

papers half read and

socks by our bed




but  you were no among the

bits left behind

cold bits

white bits




you left without calling

cold bits of

nothingness

left behind

Quiet I am

Quarrelsome be you

Quaint I seem

Questioning are you

Quivering I be

Quaking you do

Quenched are we

You fear as i fear in these lines
you fill my odd little places

                 with special graces

you will rage and i shall roar

            then we will crumble with laughter

I stand strong and you stand firm

      no fuddled words have we

Me

I woke today with no shadow beside me
I stretched me and and enjoyed the freedom
I smelled the scent of me and was pleased
I have me whole and at peace
I am as I was to be
I have defined meself with in boundaries placed
I answer to no demands but those I place on me
I am the one the only me

Small words

SHOUTED Loudly

Written hastely

Scrawled loving

Printed boldly

Spelled badly

In perfect tense

Perfect sense of

Verbs actively

Wrapping you in me

Once were u alone on an island

And I far away in a strange southern land

Politely in goring  knocking

And notes sent asking

For a moment in your mind




At last u spoke and I retorted

Nestled now safely in your thoughts

We pratter in strange tounge

With words, strokes and quietness

Places filled and dearly held




Speak do we of smallness

Overcome by strange utterings

Wondering why words are all

We needed to make small talk

Tak

There are no words to describe the chapters of myself

I have been birthed, grow ed, learned and polished

To  in a life that was handed to me

A place in line where I was to stand pointed out




There are words to describe the pages of myself

That I have birthed, crafted, honed and tuned

To a life I have made for me

I stand in my place, face proud




These are the lines I speak from those pages

Strong are the words that are spoken

Not broken but bowed from grace and pain

Having my place in line

I have a cat
As black as a bat
My cat is fat

Because it ate a rat

My big fat black cat

I stand small

I stand aware

I stand firm

I stand alive

I stand strong

I stand as i

stand close to me




so that I may catch

*** slowly

sweetly

seeping

     from you




stand close to me

so that I may

sense you with my self




stand  so close to me

seductive silence

smattering of us are about
small things that remind

smells that have aroused

sounds uttered in good and grief

sights of shadows framed for dispaly

saluations, sorrows and sweetness

surrounds us snugly







smatterings of you are shadows

seeping away slowly

swiftly leaving motionless

spaces no longer secure

sanity waning likes seasons

secrets spilllng




smatterings of me are emerging

spreading to seek warmth and light

searching for grounding adn firmness

safe that i am stong

smatterings of me are here--success

words connected you and i
before any twinkling eye or sutte laugh

before any disconcerning eye or  lustward gaze

before any lingering touch or







your words teased

my word tweaked

you words poked

my words followed

yours words distanced

my words with tone

your words attracted

my words with laughter

your words warned

my words  invited

your words openly

my words enticed

your words accepted

our words engaged

I see you are busy at work today
as the news blares another attack
Can  you not simply stop  your duties
and let old hatreds die
There is no blood that is redder
or religion that is brighter
We are all simply one

great and might stand
separately against each other
in the shield of right
small and weak are those
who stand in the shadows
and are crushed by the darkness
of the mighty who demand
spattering's of blood from those
who them claim to protect

All these things we will do

Play gently and listen wisely

Watch contentedly while one learns

Laugh softly with pleasure

As each tasks completes

Closer minds and hearts

i feel your hands on my brow at night

I feel your kisses on my eyes lightly

I fell your finger trace my lips softly

I feel your breath as you trace my neck

To secret places




I feel yourself against my thigh so strongly

I feel fullness as you embrace my sweetness

I feel tenderness as your breath fills my ears

I feel the strength of your words as we move

   To secret places




I feel the warmth of you inside my soul

I feel your words as they rattle around

I feel the pleasure they give as they land

I feel the laughter erupting as we travel

   To secret places

I want someone to miss my smell

I want someone to laugh when  the egg lands beside the frying pan

I want someone to yearn for my cold feet in the small of thier back

I want someone to smile when i tell the same story the third time




I want to feel your small jerks at nite waking my slumber

I want to smile when your laugh walks in before you do

I want to feel my hand engulfed my yours

I want to know that you still are

From ruins rise great things

Wisdom and insight become

Invinsible to small stones thrown

From mundate comes majesty

Glowing with the inner sense

That all will become from whence it began

From mighty comes minute

Cycle of life continues

No great words remain but round again

You were a face on a page

Giggling eyes and fuzzy brow

Staging for all to see

Simple scenes to play

Meaning deeply hidden

Words gave vague direction







I was a face an a page

With a look of who knew what

Glaring out to say I dare

Boldly written words

Meaning openly stated

Words giving complete directions




We are faces no longer on a page

Looking eye to eye in wonder are we

No lines to read or staged direction

Creating new beginnings to rehearse

A conversation to continue

i am scared of you

i am sacred of loving you

i am scared of the fit of you

you fit to close on me

if i had to take you off--i could not stand the cold

the nakedness of my soul

you cover me fully me

so that no part is left unnoted




i am a part of you now

i do not know if we are a pair

mated by the hands we cover

i am complete when you cover me

with each touch of your hand

the giggle in your eye or the glee in your voice




i am engrained in you

love is present in my hands

when they are fitted with you

your fit is not tight or nor loose

but right to the length and width of my hand

you bend with me when i move

and i stretch when you reach for dreams

fitted are we to each other, i hope

i have no fear of death nor great excitement in life

quietly I walk with each in deep meditation while

holding conversations of the ordinary and the mundane

each brings topics  to speak on and I listen with reverence

while debates rage around my head with pontificating pace

points pondered, pages cited and notations made

I am simply a spectator on the sidelines watching

the play and waiting for the ending that is written for me

neither of the actors understand my part

so busy  in imagined creativity they cannot

note how carefully I play each role given until

the final scene and curtain drawn