This is not another
poem about wild
uncouth women
and their wiles
those plethora of ways to
grab men's attention

This is about brutality
how he speaks to her in flesh
men with brutal words
speak with brutal tongues
Hit with brutal hands
as if that would make her
more available

as if women were
all gold grabbers
but
kindness never
crosses his mind

she is the pretty prize
he is the lip licking
fangs *****
with nothing to do
but ravage
her naivete...

You'll know it when
you feel it
right between your
solar plexus and gut
Tune your life by it
for You are the middle man
deciding when to
calibrate your mind
to this higher realm
Once you go there
it's hard to come back
Illusion is the hardest
craving to break
we live there at all times
To be truth one must
find their own vibration
and live from this frequency
of true freedom

To make corduroy cool
you'll need to be
the grand ole size of a
5'2 sprite
Be perky having
thrift-shop lovin flip-flop
wearing, I'm going to
make a bold statement with my
clothes inducing, young
and up and coming, professional
with a namaste projecting
attitude.

If God is not
a great harsh
old man in the sky
with alabaster skin
and a white beard


Then who is She?

Don't believe what they tell you
Think for yourself like you have come
here to save you.

On this plane
we are flesh
made from real tears
and freshly spilt blood
we feel the incisions
to the bone
of everyday assaults
some minor
spoken words
some monumental
trauma that leaves
us stifled in our tracks
it's more than a dream
and more like a
never ending nightmare

It's all here
the pen
the paper
and the poet
perfectly
existing
simultaneous
in the
same
space
at
one
time...

This is not the time
to be in hypochondria
Every night I feel
like I'm in sick mode
waiting for this next
ailment to take me away
Breathe. and
Breathe
don't let this sickness
overwhelm you.
I am not going out like that.
I think I'm ready.
I've got my ammunition.
And I'm packing a doozy.
inhaler. check
gypsy cold tea. check
lemons. check
garlic. check
zinc. check
echinacea. check
tylenol. check
thermometer. check
pulse/oximeter. check
send love daily. check
Prayers to God. check

They are self less
Holding up the sky with
compassionate limbs
they guard
The world for nothing
True poets
with silence as their tongues
Sacrificing their lives
to get a peek
at life animating
knowing the dark
Sustenance of the ground
To walk on land
with sacred feet

He came as
clear as crystal
spoke to me
in cello notes
My body was not
my own but his
to strum and gently
tango with
He tasted like
sweet mead
lit tiny fires upon
my skin
I succumbed
consumed by
this holy muse...

It's not what you would die for
that has greater meaning
it's what you would live for that makes
it all seem timeless and worthwhile

The nights have
been somber around here
they are filled with
apparitions of
longing and worry

So I write poems
with a surgical knife
to cut at the wound
of my sullen cries

I should be stronger
than this
superwoman in reverse

the cobwebs come and
multiply around me
as if I were an
abandoned building
while the shadows have their
own wicked agenda

as I flutter around
like the milquetoast girl
from yesterday

I'm bullied by
quarantined nights
then saved by the morning
Sun of my resurrection

Candlelit dinners
are meant to impress
I've seen the show
'Keeping Up Appearances'
way too many times
to acquire that knowledge
but candles are filters for
aged women like me
the glow softens the face
then I begin to look like
a 'Star Trek' cameo shot
with vaseline smeared
all over the lens
To be young and
wrinkle-less again
would be my dream
just without the dumb that
comes with it

Maybe if we all
took one deep
collective breath
we could step off
this mad
merry-go-round
into a world
where
thoughtfulness
reigns
and nature is divine
then we could teach
our children the
slow ways of walking
mindfully on this land...

it is not ours to grasp
and hold in monumental panic
for what is ours is unseen
it cannot be tangible
but immutable
peace is already here
for you on the cusp
between something
and nothing

We all want a place
in this world
to fit in like a puzzle piece
plebeian and all happy
like
this world isn't perfect enough
this isn't peaceful enough

if we are all encumbered
by the weight
of just one oppression
just think of how
stifled we are with
millions of them

The locale of this

body was once worn

It was the crash pad

and the last place

You'd ever look

for me

But

when I am gone

I bet you will

remember that

in some way

I shall live

again...

I was knee deep

in the ferns today

searching for wandering jews

and spider plants

like my life depended on them

they are beings with

super powers

I believe in them

like I believe in the moon

silent friends

to heal the world...

I get so lost from you

daydreaming of revenge

on wolves who'd prey

on you

or how the

syrup from your lips

keeps me so drunk

I get enravelled

in the flesh

that I lose some of you

each time I bring the glory

to myself

So I try to daydream of roses

they are safe it's wise to say

for they will not lead

me away from you

towards the brimstone

and decay

I am making my way

thru humanity for the last time

seeing shadow exists before me

knowing I hold the truth within

what they don't see is what they assume

all the petty small minds say

there is no heart of gold

to be found in black bodies

that we lynch and burn

out of Africa, they have claimed

our skin the radients of mocha

night screams sin

and they will continue to say,

we are better than them



I am better than no one but my self

to be sure this heart is genuine

coming from a long

line of fine peculiar folks

souls as vast as a mountain range

you could fall deep into the

crevice of their never

ending love for everything

who would even wounded

do anything opposed to oppression

untamed roaming wild and free

It's a balancing act.
We are kidding ourselves
if we don't accept it
and respect it.

America’s shadow
is projected
all over the Globe
and its not healthy
it is a sick child
waiting to be freed

but we repressed it
For far too long that now it
Is running the world

But not without
Demonizing it first
For it is
our deeper selves
out of balance
and a hero to most

Means freedom
For us to gather
as a collective
to heal ourselves
and to remain true

There must be light
For those who seek the
warm wisdom of the dawn

And there must be dark
For those who seek
to rest and heal
from its cool
effervescent shade

the balance of the
world will be shown
with love and simple
kindness

It all depends on you