The Elders took me to church
and planted me on the back row
to squirm and fidget
while they filled my head with stories
of women like Delilah,
          who seduced Sampson
          and used her body
          to weaken a warrior,
and Bathsheba,
          whose nakedness upon her own roof
          made David falter
          from king to killer,
but told me that I will lose
value after I grant a man
permission–should he even ask–
to lay his hands on me,
as if the priest and prosecutor
could preach purity
into my dry bones
and watch me rise up before them
without ever having realized
the power I possess
within my own rib cage.

*"And the serpent said unto the woman,
'You will surely not die."

She never spoke but words where embellished upon
her features. Her distressed ink smudged on her white
features marking on ever word painted upon her.

Her purity was now blemished not as it was, but with
ever word discarded on her she became not once before.
voices became stains on every part of her anatomy.

Features were darkened but her visage was scared never
to be as what was before. Words can hurt even become
part of us, but others can stain our purity with just words.

la poésie est une manière de créer la
distance

où l'amour
entre nous
est trop pur

Bus number 231,
A journey into the unknown, butterflies fluttering in my stomach -
nerves beyond those of which I am familiar with.
The silhouette of you matches the figure of which I had in mind,
you walk - or rather, stroll - up the lane, a puzzled look upon your face as my bus innocently sweeps past, the warmth of the summer air blowing your hair back in exasperation.
Buzz
Then buzz again, of a different kind.
The spring breeze wafts past me, teasingly.
A singular pavement winds up to you and eventually we meet.

We once had wings
But as we were not angels
We fell from the sky
And were beset by devils
So we no longer fly.
We are bound to the earth
To sweat and to toil
From the moment of birth
On this planet called soil.

We once had wings
And were pure in our hearts
And then we allowed
Ourselves to be distracted;
Our greed and envy to start
Working its black magic
To turn us back into dust.
The outcome was tragic
As our silver began to rust.

We once had wings
And kind hearts full of hope
And joy for each other
Feeling like sister and brother
Wishing good will to all
And praying nobody would fall
But then we turned away.
We started counting our things
And forgot to pray.

We once had wings
But as we were not angels
We fell from the sky
And were beset by devils
So we no longer fly.
We are bound to the earth
To sweat and to toil
From the moment of birth
On this planet called soil.

A small cave of darkness,
Step out into luscious forest,
Green and brown, mixing with moonlight
Birds chirping, waterfall crashing
Running water over rocks

Leaves rustling, wind gentle
On my forehead, pushing my hair
Back off my face,
Tasting faintly of honey,
Smooth and indulgent.

Walk over to the riverside,
Sit cross-legged on the bank
Run my fingertips through the water
So soft, rippling and welcoming
So clear
And oh so beautiful,
So breathtakingly pure,
So real and righteous.

A pity that I cannot show
My dreams, as if through telepathy
So that those I love can share
My place of freedom,
And be at peace as I was
Last night.

I never thought this tiny metal band would weigh so much
It might as well be a millstone tied around my neck
And it drags me down, down, down
I hope there's an ocean floor down there somewhere
They say you'll find everything you ever wanted when you finally touch bottom
But no one knows how far it is to the floor
(And some people seem to get there sooner than others)
My lungs burn, but it's not so bad, I guess
You get used to not having air after a while
Some people don't even know what a lungful feels like--
Aren't they the lucky ones!
Memories still linger of gasping breaths
Times when I fought this weight and swam to the surface
Oh the sweet feeling of oxygen in my lungs!
The light winking on the water, the lazy waves rolling along, the warm sun on my face!
And the tempting sight of those tiny figures high overhead
Those who have left the ocean altogether and taken to the skies
Soaring and pinwheeling through the air
Rising on updrafts just to fold their wings and plummet towards the water's surface
In dizzying displays of graceful acrobatics
Join us in the skies! they call
Leave the weight behind!
(It's only pulling you down anyway)
What you thought were fins are actually wings and you were meant to FLY!
How tempting their offer sounds!
How could anything that awaits on the ocean floor
Compare to the thrill of flight and the joy of these majestic beings?
All it would take is to let the weight go--
(Come to think of it, this thing isn't even tied to me--
I've been clutching it this whole time!)
Let the weight go, and grab on as one of these sky-dwellers
Dive-bombs the water's surface, hand outstretched
To ****** me up and carry me aloft
Where I will join in their graceful dance.
But of course, it's not that simple
Drop the weight, and it sinks to the bottom without you
They say anyone who takes to the skies, and then chooses to return to the sea
Can only get to the bottom one way:
Swimming.
Few make it all the way down--
Their lungs scream for air as they struggle for the ocean floor
And often, worn out, they float to the surface once more
Unable to make it without a weight to help them down
Banished to the skies by their own choices
Torn between the pull of the weight and the siren call of the sky,
I remain at the ocean's surface
Treading water
And getting tired.

No love will be lost,
for love is a gift.
Although love can fade,
it will always exist.
Although pain will be caused,
no love will be lost.
We would gladly risk it all
whatever the cost.
And so the illusion of pain
has no grasp on us.
It will fade into dust
and be left to discuss.
For love is to mighty,
with one hell of a wrath.
For it will come and go,
as it blesses those in its path.