I am told that I should love my body,
and I should not be ashamed.
BUT the white, conservative men tell me otherwise, making me feel nothing but shame.

When did it become okay for a male's education to be more important than a woman's rights?

When did it become okay to sexualize a woman just because her shirt does not cover her rear end?

This is apparent in the things my teachers have told me.
"Your shirt must be fingertip length when wearing yoga pants," she said.
"Why?"
"Because the males that sit in the class might be too destracted to listen to my lecture."

We are treated like *** toys.
Us girls are used for nothing more than a mans pleasure, so they imply.

This is MY body, and no one else's.
I may do what I please,
and no one should have a problem with it.

I refuse to be sexualized and treated like we are living in the 1920s.
But I must conform and live in fear of my consequences.

**** culture is real,
and school's are promoting it.

As they say
Words fall short to describe experiences.
Photographs are still pixels away
From being a reflection
Of one's memory -
A refracted reflection,
Of the experience itself.
So what about hopes
To capture, treasure memories for this lifetime?
What about people
Who love to imagine,
And spend their lives
Living on memories
Of those imagined sights,
Scenes, smells and people?

to walk by faith
and
not by sight
Lord
this edge of night
when
I sketch the stars

my soul wanders when I sleep
where it wills to venture forth
mostly it tells my waking mind not

some nights on a rare occasion
the faintest flickering of a memory
will hold fast till morning sings

some would say it’s just a dream
but what dreams are alive as this
so vivid are these vague remembering’s

just this morning my soul watched the sun
rise over the most beautiful valley
my mortal life has ever seen

the first rays of newborn light
chasing the shadows fast across
valley fields of summer green

my soul has passed the gates of heaven
and walked it’s quiet gardened paths

my soul has peered into the future
and has revisited my past

every so often my soul will stop
to watch the warm summer wind
rustle a single maple leaf

the peace that I remember
from those midnight summer stops
leads my waking mind to weep

darkness draws it’s curtains once again
as I recount what little I recall
and record my pondering

my soul stirs within this mortal shell
anxious to once again be off
on it’s  midnight wandering

A river flows from the
Throne Room of God
To this dry and thirsty
land that we must trod

It brings refreshing to
the souls that do thirst
And a renewed life within
when God is put first

Into the Rivers current
is where we will go
And where it takes us
we do not know

But the will of God
is what we desire
And to be filled
with the Holy Ones fire

So the River of God
is what we will seek
Those that are mighty
and even the meek

Mkt

all I see
are those
distant eyes
and
love
where is
your smile

sharing the wind
sailing again
we witness
the bright
lavender leaves