Biro the brave heart,
liberated the wasted words,
that layed lifeless on the rippled land of paper,
imprisoned and not found.

Words that have been fed with feeble fever,
swollen from the neglect injected into its letter limbs.
Neglect from the puzzle prime minister.

But biro the brave heart pen,
together with the motion from his noble ‘hand’ steed,
slowly walking around each word,
in a captivating circle,
made out of incentive ink.

The circle of meaningful medicine,
that cures the words emptiness,
and installs a ventilator
so, it can breathe value.

Words that are ready to breathe value,
the words I am looking for so,
that my figure of speech is finally alive.

Justine Louisy

Copyright © Justine Louisy 2020
All Rights Reserved

Sleeping limbs,
hair looking like a display of drunk,
tongue breathing the smell of skunk,
closed eyes still acting as a screen projector for my daisy dream.

All this,
whilst standing,
in a hungry bath.
Hungry for the applause of water droplets,
it’s echo making the drums in my ear bang at every beat.

Oh finally! sober strands of hair thanks
to the medicine called ‘wet’.
Lazy limbs finally awoken by the kicks
of caffeinated splashes.
My crusty feet marinated
in a shallow stream.

My tongue doing the Mexican wave
in a pure fountain.
At least it scared the skunk away.

The cool fingers of the water poking
against my snuggled eyelids.
No more daisy dream.

Thanks to the shower!

All this,
and work is in 10 minutes.

Oh crap…..

Multiple braids equal multiple roots,
in the direction my fingers scoots.

Loose braids,
robust cornrow braids in a stack,
chanting all the way down my back.

A loose rope,
or a robust bridge.
You know which root to take….

Justine Louisy
Copyright © Justine Louisy 2016
All Rights Reserved