Goddess - Hello Poetry

Jul 2016

Denel Kessler

cobalt rain
rides the foothills
mountains conspire
in malevolent
cloud lairs

beneath gray waters
she treads
the warming sea
in constant current
scaled desire

burnished crimson
silver sleek
with ripened need
she lives to die
upstream

#death #ocean #return #spawning #chinook

Jul 2016

Denel Kessler

Sweet Peas (a collaboration featuring Sassy J)

I stood flat-footed upon an eroding hill

Here the sweet peas, on tip-toe for a fight
With wing of coarsest black o'er delicate night
And spiteful fingers grasping at all beauty
To bind us all in deeds unworthy

Oh, toxic wind and fertile rain
Disperse the fragrance of this pain
In healing gardens root a seed
Sprout the bliss we sorely need

This tiny pulse of life we hold
Thrives in soil tilled with love
And tender vines create a bower
Of sweet pea tended, brought to flower

I stand bare foot on an erupting volcanic mount

Here the sweet peas, on tip toe for a flight
With wing of justice verity o’er delicate sight
And nails that compassionately snowball serenity
To bind us all with concord and altruism

Oh, acidic rain share the tears
Wash thy tainted eye-sight
Then crux us in the high-yield land
As we germinate to heaven’s height

The seed so robust and fertile
A shell encased with human forms
The greenness of reflected sextile
Oh Sweet pea, our mirrored storm

Inspired by a stanza from Keats' poem:

I stood tip-toe upon a little hill

Here are sweet peas, on tip-toe for a flight:
With wing of gentle flush o’er delicate white,
And taper fingers catching at all things,
To bind them all about with tiny rings."

I wrote the intro line and first three stanzas, Sassy J the second intro line and last three stanzas.

It was truly a pleasure to work with Sassy J - master of flow and cosmic rhyme. Her quick mind, sense of social justice, huge heart, and loving soul make her a must-read if you don't know her work already. Thank you, my special "sweet pea", for suggesting the topic and wanting to work with me!

The sweet pea *(lathyrus odoratus)* derives its name from the Greek word lathyros *(pulse)* and the Latin word odoratus *(fragrant)*.
Sweet peas symbolize bliss or delicate pleasure, they are often given as a thank you.

#peace #justice #keats #sweetpeas #sassyj

Jul 2016

SassyJ

A Woman Body

A woman's body spikes and hikes
It glows like sun to a man on heat
the very body that spins and pikes
It bears and nurture a seed's seat

A woman body is tender and meek
It houses the ***** crazed rods
the very body that recycles eggs
It's the mother of the earth odds

A woman body ages rapidly
It's bosoms burst and sag with age
the very body that speak mercilessly*
with milk that flow with abundant sage

A woman body knows the cycles
It rolls every month with pain
the very body that roars in circles
*The up and downs of a woman bargain

#woman #body #cycles

Jul 2016

Pradip Chattopadhyay

Living by the River

She sits from where
the rainbow arches into the river.

As I eye her fishing net
she reads the question in my mind.

I'm waiting for three thirty
when tides begin to fall
but the shrimps can't go back.

When the bank begins to bare
she glides into the waves
till the water cools her *******.

I walk away knowing
she would bob up to the hour
the moon is upon her face
and she has made another morrow
from the river.

Jul 2016

autumn

Courage to Speak

The only part of my day
That I look forward to
Is when I go to bed
And lay there making up scenarios
In my head.

I think of comebacks
To 8th grade bullies.
I think of witty retorts
To my mother's snide comments.
I think of intelligent things to add
To conversations I had months ago.

I think of all the things
I was too scared to say.

And in my mind
I say them.
And pretend how things would be different
If only I had the courage to speak.

#broken #fear #depression #life #anxiety #past #thought #courage

Jun 2016

betterdays

Mrs Posideion....

she stood
body at rest
loose of hips and arms
knees flexed slighlty
carrying her weight
with little regard

eyes toward the horizon
or at least the break of king tide waves
they call it reading the ocean

hair windswept
skin browned beyond bronze
by countless days spent
on the water,
under the argent sun

eyes a deep brown
like the skin of an acorn
and lips pursed,
as if just about to speak
or laugh at the joke
heard whispered,
on the zephyr wind

without age
this matriarch,
of sand and tide
she stands in the glory
of this days rising sun

as though she awaits to bless
a new world begun...