A strong woman always has a secret garden. Inside is everything a blind person will never achieve by looking down on her, or even looking past her.
© Salamasina T.

We can only dig so deep
beneath our skins.
We are merely animals.
I am a women with possibilites,
an apple one in a million hunted
My mysteries are to remain legend
And I intend to keep it that way.
© Salamasina Talaepa
#CriticalSamoanPoet

I was assembled in carful manner,
like an artist with a brutal wrist
learning to be gentle at the hand
With his fingers a stroke per touch was liquid fire... and the ambers bled.

In an age of chaste- my uniform and I elaborated together,
right before the architect checked in.

To measure our dogma
do we have the skill of a plank?
Grown enough, he'd engage me at force.

The utensils of my porcine frame had
taken attention- and tention
off from his sore eyes.
Across the alley walls where we wildly grind, contrary
to a man compelled.
And like a beast, he took liberty
in between walls my temple built,
and broke them back down
to a soundly fever.
© Salamasina Talaepa

When I steadily hold my pen
I spoil the advantage of paper
while my coffee mug rule my air
sitting beside this notebook
I run simplicity like scriptures
highlighting the moments stirred
because it's sometimes hard
to take in stride the echoes
the sounds that evacuate
all positive energies
that lived deep within them

I can't even remember a time
someone else shared the feeling
of deep affliction and the miss
along side me and live
broken by words and not by hand
I can't even remember a time
where I stood still frozen
in edgy fashion or in kerosene
burning in razor cut fumes
that always bind in any control

pushing my pen forward... I am caught in suspension
realizing that I am still
venturing on without light
cradling in my chest to hold
the convention of agony
the carnival of deluded sadness
hiding behind my fake smiles ... I applaud myself

I keep dreaming heavily
of a brighter poetry
that my pen may reward
and that in between the brackets
it may find some kind of solitude
escape the prison of aggression
dry out the red ink and spill in
the blue like heaven camouflaged
where I can't tell my wrong from blanks
I never intended to spoil my paper
I never wrote in pity of self nor to flaunt
I only wanted you to breathe with me
the beauty that is still inside
and watch the roses grow.. and bloom.
© 2016 Salamasina T.

LOVE
tastes like
a clipped wing
falling from heaven.
A spill
from my mouth
leave the rose
in pixie dust air
on the throne
of my tongue- dancing
so my words can send
rainbows to hill tops
reaching the sky.
© Salamasina T.

My head was hit by a harpoon
and it bled stars.
Like the mother medeor unbreakable in the skies,
Like the fluster in his eyes I am pushed further into the core friction of butterflies rumbling in my belly.
I am in love.
© Salamasina T.

Decisions decisions
when my mind can't make
up many latters to the moon
every step went unnoticed
the chill between my every toe
as I make every go
hence forth to a destiny
or a step back surfing the scale
for even if when the sun may burn
when it sets in my eyes
deep inside I am content
to stay on a natural high
STAYING cool.. on the inside
woe is me sometimes
but who am I to give
up this latter I push
pull out my shades
let my hair down
not only the night is kind to me
I can make due
for a hazy day
all though livid as the sun
there is no time to punish him
I know there is a smile there
we are friends
rising together
finding a soft place to fall

..stayinhg cool on the inside.

© 2015 Salamasina T.

THE LYRICS OF LIFE:
(writing/poetry)

I write lyrics of life
under willow trees
and pastel skies

still pondering an existence
while humming melodies of nothing
because my mind's eye can no longer see

Dancing to an empty beat
known only by the moon
mesmerized by the sea and all its wiles

I share wishes with stars
praying for a new muse

for my inspiration has died
and I can only imagine greatness
while i scribble down
the lyrics of a life
passed by...

© 2016 Salamasina T.