Strands and strands of my hair
On the ground
I’m twisting, I’m balding
I watch the minutes and seconds rake

Strands and strands of my hair
From the time
I stayed put on the ground
But a **** of cutting wood remains

Widening and splitting
Deep in my body

I see me now
I’m loud

After many years, a small seed
Under earth, a lost child
I was never this loud
But I can hear me now

The moan of these branches
wrap around me like wires
My weary throat
tightening, tightening
with nothing to show

From a tongue in its comfort
Long impaired in the silence
Hushed, hushed
till I blacked myself out

And now my roots rip
above land
they
hold
on
like desperate hands
now that I must
get ready to leave

And the minutes and seconds,
won't wait for me

I cannot sow leaves
back to a tree

Take my name plate
To the farthest of gates

It is too late
It is too late

*We must now
rake
rake
rake

I do not like it here
I do not like what we have.

Take the shovel,
here.

Pigeon-toed,
austere.

Dig deep in the earth,
big capable man.

Plunge through that dirt
until you reach the other side.

I'm
restless
as desert dust

the steps on me,
heavy.

Plant in me
the rose

and garden
the romance.

Won't you
resuscitate
the dear
in my tongue

tighten
the clutch
of these arms

soften
this face,
unalarmed

out of its casket
into a smile...

Take the shovel,
here.

You’ve been cold too.
Your body is quivering

so
dig
through
that
dirt

Dig deep in the earth,
big capable man.

Bring us both back
the last breathing rose.

But the man with the shovel
never came back...

However
I did hear he reached the other side.

I’m not making it easy
and you know,
for once I’d like to be free
instead of standing here
letting you pick
through my neck
Maiming the base
to the decision
I'm about to make

I stood sturdy like a scarecrow
You picked me strand by strand
left me arid of any features
stuffed yourself in my straws

Coming around
like this is where you wanted to be
And so then I
let you build your nest on me                                      

But oh you wild bird,
you always flew away

In fields of green
I stood a wretch
And it wasn’t until dawn
arrived again
that I could hear your
haw caw caws in their mocking tone

Didn't have to soar with you to know
The stench the wind rolled up is enough

So, I renounce this broom shank
and broken stave for bones
Dislodge from this one peg foot
and slam it into the grave

Fly away, you stupid bird
Build your nest on someone else
This scarecrow of a woman
is past her season

I look inside my skeleton
Love-hate bulging
eyes out of my face
Two warts of ambivalence

I want to hug my skeleton
Heart twitching in a rib-cage
Admire the asymmetry
of every piece broken

Dear beautiful skeleton
In veins runs the river
In a stream of excitement
I flood in disappointment

I talk to my skeleton
I tell it that I love it
Rub my head against it
Lungs violently sighing

I believe in you, skeleton
in the blood of your tongue
A kick in the stomach
Everything is working

The skin whispers and summons her hither,
To where secret stories lie hidden in depths
That she had not yet discovered,
The sigh of the flesh, the magnetism
Of touch, the electricity of lust beckon,
Her steps momentarily waver,
Yet she retraces them just in time,
Managing to overhear the conversation
Her heart was having with his,
There were sounds of throaty laughter,
Friendly nudges and incessant debates,
There was a fragrance of coffee in the air,
A nip of flirtation had begun to dance with care,
And there were cushions scattered on the floor.
She sat on the pink one,
And he sat at the other side,
Both immersed in that conference,
Knowing they would let their hearts
Talk each other out,
Before the skins began to talk out loud.

It's all lies
Don't you dare tell me different
I'm here asking you what's the matter
Yet you complaining no one will listen

When I ask you how you is
"I'm Ok"  isn't sufficient
I can see you deteriorating
Cut the **** be explicit

Tell me what words hurt you
And whose mouths caused the pain
I know you know they didn't mean it
But the burn will still remain

Was it your man that ain't your man
Or was it that girl who doesn't have to try
Don't keep telling me they mean nothing
I see the tears behind your eyes

It's okay to have feelings
I'm in them all the time
I feel heavy if I don't express em
Baby, why you think I rhyme

Tell me what it is girl
Tell me what it ain't
Tell me how you feel girl
'cause I know you ain't "ok"

your favorite song plays softly in the background
reminding us that this is real
that we are both here
and we are still in *love

Won might axe, "What is the mind?"
It tells you two think...act...or find.
Think of memories, that strain the hart,
Or act ridiculous, like making a ****!

"Find what?" People shall inquire.
"Four all of these miss steaks, written with know desire?"
But think twice, thrice, why not mice?
For this poem was written to give you spice.

The mind you sea, can make cents from error.
The mind can bee a place of terror.
Please do not be afraid, if eye must say.
For the monsters inside can stay at bey.

The fear within can be a hindrance.
Especially, when safety is off inn the distance.
Sow why does your mind keep you back?
You can't get away! You're always under attacked!

The answer is knot what you always feel.
No, it's not even complicated like making a deal.
For if you look deep down inside.
It's just your emotions, trying to hide.

Let's think a bout this, it's quite simple.
Like finding that stoopid annoying pimple.
You mite be the type to complain and blame.
**** your delicate mind is just a game.

Fall pray to it's claws, and you will lose.
In reality, it's only a ruse.
It will toss, turn, and try too undermine.
In order to win, you must mine the mind.

Dig in the depths of this vast beautiful world.
For you are the one that made it unfurled.
The only difference between yours and mine,
Is that I have mine, and yours is perfectly fine.

-
•fig•ment : something made up or contrived
•re•al•i•ty : the quality or state of being real
-


*Dreaming while sleeping, and sometimes awake
Whimsical fancies fueling escape

Wishing is for the uncertainties
Collecting more than three from genies

Checking out my daily horoscope
Astrology might give me some hope

Calling out all the deities I know
Bending my knees, blessings they might bestow

The magic still holds expectations
Of this world its seen from all views

But the signs are unclear, faded
It doesn't feel useful when put to use

And I still await, alone
For something that may just come passing by

Or maybe in the form of an angel
Dancing with howling clouds across the sky