Beneath my covers in the
dark of night,
I felt pulled tight. 
My pajamas and
underthings finding all
the wrong places.

At my time of change,
I was gifted a bed.
I felt freedom.
A space of my own, finally alone.
The eldest, released from the pack.

Revelation of delight,
naked under soft sheets.
I felt the coolness.
My skin alive, fresh from a
warm bath. Feet wrapped safe,
deep within layers.

The Dreams came then...
I felt their calling.
Whispers beckoning me
into flight,
to float above,
observe my simple beauty

Gently slipping towards the galaxy,
I felt no weight.
Nebula's Helix, Saturn and Orion,
their colors became the
pallet of My mind.

Able to soar with the eagles,
into the depths of the oceans.
The whales called for me to follow.

Walking within the beam of
light, I felt warmth.
Crystalline aquifers quenched
my thirst. Grounding  me to the
center of our Earth.

Of an age now,
that comfort has settled in,
I feel whole within.
Naked with my soul.

The sheets still cool
after a long warm bath.


Copyright © May 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved

They said that I made a better storywriter than a poet
Whatever!
Poets get their ideas from stories but my creativity comes from a glass of Moet Chardon(
A poet is someone who looks for adventure and there I was
On the back porch enjoying the Island breeze
The surging wind made it way through the tall propaganda trees
The trees act as obstacles to wind, somehow those propaganda trees made the
portable air conditioners seem useless in comparison
A family of monkey kept up their appearances daily: jumping from branch to branches
Breaking off bunches of oval-shaped young’s apples, like a morning ritual
while keeping a close eye on me: I capture the moment as it presents itself
Meditating and thinking about making right choices in my life:
My Nana once told me that propaganda leaflets were good for brewing tea to lower one’s blood pressure.
How many times can someone test the cold, cold icy water to realize that it wasn’t suitable for bathing?
That was my was way of dealing with difficult seasonal romance
I am now getting to understand Amy Winehouse struggle with love, relationship and commitment
Going to rehab may mean having to deal with difficult people, however, my addition is far more complicated
Making right choices is my life mission.

LEAVE HATRED OUTSIDE MY DOOR
WHEN YOU COME IN*

this Notice boarded on my door
seems to have done little to impress.

the ones that come in
still read from the hate book.

speak ill of others behind their back
curse those they don't agree with
spew vitriol against all not their own
criticize food habits and dresses
castigate the new generation
find fault with the old
generalize on the basis of race religion
trifle faith belief sentiment
envy for what they don't have
intensely dislike assumed disabilities
even a squint a stammer a mole a limp

more passionate in degrading than appreciating
systems, processes, relations, actions, attitudes.

people won't mend, behind them i think,

they're so ****** disgusting.

The sky transitions from night to day. I watch the stars go away as the sun comes up to great us with a new day.

Mutinous clouds like a suit of armour
Obscuring views.
Crescent moon finds a *****
And lifts the mood.

Bury my smile
And silence my laugh.
Let my chin drop
And my shoulders sag.
In the absence of company
I remove the vestiges
Of the person they think I am.
The last of the great pretenders.