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Marta C Weeks Aug 30
My favorite tree in our yard
is bare
And every time I look out
It’s bareness
Swallows me in feelings of loss
When first
Leaves turn colors like loved ones
last breath
Leaving arms that once held me
only memories
Of once arms on a body
Even when branches tossed by winds
like sticks
From a life once well spent
full again
Lush regalia crowds over each other
with memories
Of happy times return and memories
dunks deep
Into my gut, how it was
hate that,
For love reminds how painful loss
can be
When love’s arms  go from barren
To lush

@ Changes by Marta Masis Delgado
(aka) Adint-Weeks
Marta C Weeks Aug 22
Screams mix in the shrill sound of sirens
Wet with tears
From the eyes and faces of those
Cries for justice
Most born and die never knowing trust
Diminished by shadows
Distrusted because of the color of flesh
Less than life
Teach their children before spoon fed
Not to stray
But to live in their shade of color
Not to ask
Nor to ever expect permission nor contradict
To ignore humiliation
With such words as why are you sensitive?  
And if worried
About walking, working, or living, not white
signifies diminished worth
Not worth the respect or value of humans
Dogs in pounds
When whiteness is like crap filling the toilet
Voices claim
rights to justice
From streets to stages
they proclaim sources
of wrongs.

Do you
teach your kin
with words or actions
that's their right
to ****?

Then there's
no safety for
their siblings or parents
For who wins
right wrongs?

Clean streets
from immigrants ****
But who's the ***?
You say that's
the bad.

In cheer
and pomp citizens
judge right from wrong
But yours can't
be deployed.

Does God
support those who
in the name of
country **** to
right wrongs?
Marta C Weeks Nov 2019
from deep in earth like sweet
rumbles of thunder in spring
pregnant with passion for men
filled with love for children

to the sky with spirits of steel,
never wavering, even in doubt,
always holding a steady pace
while traveling on the road of life

to reach for and taste the mud
of generations upon giving birth,
tender and strong of heart and back
sustaining all that men cannot

from priestesses to prostitutes, sacred
we are all. Made to conceive and lead.
When women don’t rise, truth is corrupted
with edicts and imprisoned with lies

don’t let evil pass from morning to night
onto days to dark or until the lie rings true
and wars don’t tear our children
in the name of peace from our hearts
Marta C Weeks Jun 2019
Have you seen
a life born
and someone die?
The beginning
and end of life.
Memories buzzing
as guilt buts in
like gossipy neighbors
and regret comes
as if it’s not enough
that reality is rude
and the loss is lost
in wishing away
a stain that stays
to remind us that all
wasn’t as we’d want
to make believe.
Yet, if wet trash
is how we feel
as we let tears flow
as we almost ***
laughing the bad away
and crying the good in
reality fills us
with the truth of how
love is.

Marta C Weeks Jun 2019
God, as I understand you
grant me the valor to see the truth
not what I fear,
want to see, or want it to be.

An eye for reality
and another for day dreaming
a mouth to speak my truth but not
push it on others.

A mind to remember my messy tracks,
mistakes and faults,
what I need to accept or change
but please
don't bother me too much because
it's my time
to kick back, breakout and do
my thing.

Compassion to see
that reality can be hard or healing
and good or rough times,
can build with mistakes esteem
despite the screams and frowns,
from others.

Let me go thru this day not counting
blessings nor messes
not taking everyone’s inventory
and standing up for myself and others
even when on my ****.

Dedicated to my dad. I only saw you once for few hours when I was 18 but thought of you every day of my life. May you now Rest In Peace. Love you Hector and don’t judge you for doing the best you were capable of doing,
The red light of the sun
Slowly descending
The sky is all I see
It’s never ending
We could fly
You and I
On a cloud

Music on the hillside
Piano in a villa over there
Violin below
Fireworks above
A beat – a beating heart
Someone begins to sing

The red light of the sun
Slowly descending
The sky is all I see
It’s never ending
We could fly
You and I
On a cloud

Is this place real
The ocean below
The red sky above
The music
Romance on the wind.
Sing with me

The wind plays with the leaves
The weather turns colder
But as long as we believe
Love doesn’t get older
We could fly
You and I
On a cloud

Only after one leaves
Does this place become real
A crown jewel midst a rocky cliff
A place so beautiful its
Memory etches itself into your soul
Food to die for
Drinks to fight for…

On a journey of the heart
There’s so much to see
When the sky is dark
You’ll be right here
Right here with me
Good morning I vow
I've never been to Positano but it is a place I know more about that any place on earth.  Someday - maybe -   Just imagine a whole hillside of villa's, open bars, condos and eateries as the backdrop for the Amalfi coast. When the sun goes down music fills the air as occasional fireworks dance off and explode over the Mediterranean. I hope that someday - someone who has either been there or goes there responds to this poem. I'd love to hear of your experiences there.
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