I was born a writer see,
an I feel it like a bone,
an I have so many stories yet,
and some skills I've yet to hone,

An I intend on writing long,
until my eyes no longer see,
an I intend to tell you here,
until my soul is free,

I am but a poet true,
with a story yet to live,
an so I will tell in words I share,
an my everything I give,

To the craft that we all
share in here,
in the Poetry an lines,
an for the faces of a people here,
in a light that ever-shines,

From those lovely shiny silver souls,
with such understanding hearts,
and yes such very brilliant minds,
an like poetry in flesh you know,
well it really takes all kinds,

Of such different types of people,
in those "classes" so they say,
yeah I am but a poet true,
and I'm glad I am today.

Ma Cherie © 2017

You stabbed me
Dug it in deep
I licked the knife as I bleed
You held my head up right only to see
A broken me
You, a destroyed personality
We are complete
Complete
Complete insanity
Insanity
Is everything
You feed off my sexuality
Yet the nightmares seem to be hiding

Hiding

From

Me

I ate it



You demonstrated the hate

The hate that infested your veins

Creating them

The monster with in

Something that scares the host

Intrigues most

The cruel world

We all
Call



HOME

Invaded by the norm

A little girl in handmade dress.
           Black shoes with  
White knee-high stockings.
                       Shy eyes framed
By and hiding behind
            Long  curly
            Blonde locks,
Waiting with me at
                   The bus stop
Each school morning.

Vulnerable  
             Protected from the harsh
Outside world.
               But nothing can completely
Shut out its
                             Cruel essence.

The outside
                       Can creep in or the
Inside holds dormant
                      Outside influence
Like the eggs of the proverbial tree
                      Lizard laid among  eggs in a
Bird's nest  
             Remaining dormant to eventually
Hatch to feed on the newly born fowl.

Faith soothes the pain
                     By daily standing
On the sidelines
                     Of the pantomime
Of the mundane

As lush dense
Ivy reaches
                         For the sky but must
First slowly crawl
                              Over a cold
Gray wall of stone  
                               Reaching
For dreams and ideals
                          Once clearly seen
On the horizon of the
                      Unobscured  plains
Of childhood.
                    A bit harder at the myopic
Foothills of youth.  
                       Now harder than ever

At the jagged  
                  Snowcapped mountains of
Adulthood.

The curly locked
                             Little girl still lives
After all these years.  
                             Lives on to
                         Balance the weight
Of disappointments
                    Compressed by daily
Reminders of that

Once dormant inside
                       Influence unleashed
In the innermost
                      Sanctity of trust.

Lives
In the security
                        Of ideals gradually
Becoming reality.

                       That place in the heart
That no one can touch  
                             That no one can
Invade.

Thank God that home is where the heart is!

                     ¤¤¤

She had deep deportation eyes
Raven's feather hair
Skin as sweet as molasses
And of the same color there

Her name was never Lita
At least no two times the same
She wore the same old pair of sandals
Learning fast how to play the game

She would let you so close
But never there within
Her body was her refuge
A faultless heart so full of sin

She never took what was not belonging
The world owed her a lot
If she broke the piggy bank
It was all that she had got

In the blackness of the white room
Full of pressed rats and warthogs
She said it was their damnation
A Titanic corting through the fog

The winter came early that season
She felt the heat of I.C.E.
Her skates were best blade thin
Not thick enough for her own device

She had deep deportation eyes
The last time I saw her around
I don't see her at all now
Thinking that makes me frown