#liberation
By the grace of her cracked nails, she releases herself from her own chains.
Like a jolt, no longer tensioned to a wall, her tears cry out.
Impressed on her, a mark of a steel anklet, a bloodied lesion.
But the blood will cradle, and the wound will scab
and then become skin again.
From her blue eyes, past her brown freckles, a rain falls.
And long after she's gone, when we had forgotten she was once collapsed there—
a bouquet of blue blooms squeezes from the gaps
and reminds us of how she lit the darkest of rooms.
Just maybe, we too will leave a blue bloom
and leave the concrete
as beneath it, the beach.
With you and me, today.
With all our friends, tomorrow.
6d ago
May 28, 2026 at 4:14 AM UTC
I
Father could only pray that fathering lasted 216 months,
no duties and obligations, never to return.
On the 217th month, his manumission papers would arrive
by mail or online. Mom? Couldn’t bear to live.
But life, or the god he so much believes in
had other plans for him,
an unemployed child who writes and
a schizophrenic one who loves to sleep.
Don’t tease me, wondering which offspring I am,
for the voices in my head are manageable & sane.
And my brother still thinks I killed our mom,
he told me this last August, without a qualm.
II
On a winter afternoon, back in São Paulo,
my mom ate me with her hooded eyes and said
“Farewell, I love you, but my time is up. One day you will understand.”
We had Frida Kahlo’s movie on, and I never saw mom again.
The jailbird kept leaving to work and do charity,
he dated all wandering souls; he banned
my silly brother and me from his life,
following mom’s path, busy with his arts and crafts.
The immaculate prisoner threw all her memories away,
even if those two liabilities were sad — us —,
even if it had been only a day, he couldn’t wait.
Off with the memories, he was almost free.
III
My beloved and unbalanced younger brother,
who’s actually two years older,
had planned to reunite mom and me, he said
“Prepare to hug the witch in hell!”
He acted upon it, but I’m Machiavel, so
he ended up moving in with nonna, and I ended up alone.
I know he should, perhaps, be in jail
but we already have a jailbird in this poem, don’t we?
I excused myself from the scene, tired of being the snotter
while the jailbird still plays family with what is left of that poor soul…
As for me, far-off and trying to be kind and whole,
am proudly known as the ungrateful daughter.
Apr 23
Apr 23, 2026 at 4:54 PM UTC
Wings stitched from grief-fiber and daylight,
shaking,
delirious,
aching to lift off
even as the sky splinters open
like a mouth mid-scream.
How dare it?
How dare it fly,
knowing how flammable it is,
how unfinished,
like a sentence left in the throat.
Apr 7
Apr 7, 2026 at 5:02 AM UTC
I tasted a dream.
Not like the kind that flits behind your eyelids,
but one that fills your mouth,
seeps into your lungs,
makes you realize you’ve been breathing smoke your whole life
without knowing it had a name.
It was a place, not made of perfection,
but of possibility.
And possibility is more intoxicating than any promise,
because I had never been offered even that.
It bloomed on my tongue,
sweet in ways I didn’t know the world could be.
I hadn’t known silence could mean safety.
That eyes could look without measuring.
That streets could exist without whispering threats in every crack.
That names like mine didn’t have to come with apology.
Home was barbed wire wrapped in anthem,
a hymn to erasure sung in every streetlight,
every flag that demanded your silence.
It wasn’t even a whole mouthful.
Just a touch---
a trace,
the way a fruit bruised open
perfumes the air but does not last.
That’s how fast it left.
Because I was only on loan.
A borrowed heartbeat.
A visitor in my own liberation.
And I, a child still,
with legs not long enough to stay,
hands too small to hold on,
am pulled backward by forces
that do not speak in kindness.
And the nightmare,
oh, it waited.
Patient as death,
hungry as fire.
It didn’t disappear just because I saw the sun.
It watched me bask
and smiled
with teeth.
I live with the aftertaste
of what the world could be
rotting sweet
on the back of my tongue.
And try not to starve
from remembering.
Apr 7
Apr 7, 2026 at 3:56 AM UTC
His feathers are hooked,
he pries himself loose, and isn't --
a bird anymore.
Mar 23
Mar 23, 2026 at 3:19 AM UTC
Then it happened.
Another ship had wrecked
and its sole traveler came.
He was asleep—
as John was.
Some people took
the ropes out.
But John didn't.
He stared at the newcomer.
Wondering.
Emily stared at him too.
Then, he got up and
took the ropes off
of his friends' hands.
"No. Not again",
he said.
Slowly, he walked in front of them—
slapping each one's face
and reciting each one's name.
"All of you tied me when I arrived.
Now, you won't tie anybody else".
He threw the ropes into the sea.
While the waves carried them away,
he sat on a rock, waiting
for the newcomer to wake.
Mar 9
Mar 9, 2026 at 3:09 PM UTC
You feel safe in the clear cut lines
Safe within your own confines
I say ***** your walls and categories
They're made of toothpicks and scary stories
Weak and fragile and able to burn
Fire leaves behind ash and something to learn
I am expansive, seeing through your limitations
Building your life along their implications
They're self-selected and system imposed
I can understand that it's all you've known
But you choose to stay tied to their ideas
Finding safety in avoiding all of your fears
They call people of color and trans kids the culprit
From within the cage that is your pulpit
You find danger in difference and seek to destroy
Instead of exploring the vastness of human joy
So afraid of the loss of your god's only love
You seek answers from those you consider above
You ask your priest how to tell your son one day
About the fact that your mom is in love and gay
So when your kids question gender as they get older
Will you tell them that I simply have a disorder?
No, first you'll have a meeting and ask the church
Before considering your heart as somewhere to search
And they'll tell you I'm ****** and our mom is as well
But you're the one trapped within your own living hell
Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 6:07 PM UTC
What is true? I am truly
the man I see in the mirror
with my eyes wide open, devoid
of pitifulness
and, no matter what happens
I am free now, Mama
more beautiful than the man
you wanted to see, the one I was
because everything seemed easier then
but I am no longer that
jester, I'm starting over
with or without you
You don't have to cry
I no longer wish
I had never been born
I am free now, Mama
I am not in hell
I dedicate my life
to how I was made
no matter how difficult that is
no matter how things turn out
Jan 2
Jan 2, 2026 at 4:02 AM UTC
A melancholic
march of the liberators --
playing on bagpipes.
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 3:33 AM UTC
Little blocks we stacked up when we were children.
Little hands that trembled every time a loud bang was made.
Little by little
A dream gets stacked,
A love gets bound,
A heart is bounced.
Little by little
A dream crumbles,
A love becomes hate,
A heart turns to stone.
Little by little
A child is made,
A laugh decreases,
A nightmare is made.
Little by little
The darkness exceeds,
The numbness lives free,
The void is sought.
Little by little
The memories become a dream,
The sleep comes once a week,
The eyes start to bleed.
Little by little
A recollection is made,
From the last mistakes,
The redness it made.
Little by little
A child has grown,
really fast,
really mature.
Little by little,
The only dream that a child sought.
liberation or recollection?
Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 4:10 PM UTC
There is no Power like a Pen
To drown the walls of Kings
Nor any suasion like a Verse
Coercive rule an inferior thing
Endeavor such consumes the scribes
And summons want and will to resist
Coercive tyranny, that dull machine
Toppled by Bards' superior fist
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 1:02 PM UTC
You told me
to gather all my things
and leave.
I did.
I didn’t hesitate.
It was as if you had opened
the cage door
that had been keeping me trapped.
I guess I’m sorry
it wasn’t me
who said it first.
But I’m glad—
because this time,
I didn’t let the chance
slip away.
Aug 15, 2025
Aug 15, 2025 at 6:18 AM UTC
In my time,
We were already ancient.
As was Pax - Peace,
The most precious fruit(s) of our gardens.
There was younger Tranquility & Harmony,
Time's & Nature's respectively.
From equal dispensation of & to each,
For & from Universal Equality & Universal Equity.
Respect, of & in Truth, was the governance.
When we were at our Max - Peak;
So too everyone, everywhere, everybody - everything.
All cared for as unique individuals,
When last stood this Summit.
From a Son come down from the Mountain
To show you all the way up.
But it is up to each, together, to push that boulder -
Anything that impedes progress, let it stand not.
For tighteners get trapped in webby-naught(s) -
Titans unbind the knots.
This is in pursuit of Liberation & Independence.
Jul 29, 2025
Jul 29, 2025 at 3:42 PM UTC
Think yourselves ready, eh?
Will you be
When gestation rates increase
To 13, 15, 17 months?
Stress -
Stressors by environment.
Famines, Droughts: Afflictions.
Yous who only believe in competition
Belittling compassion & patience of true co-operation;
Of harmony & tranquility,
Of the tranquility of harmony.
Whom the plants shall out-compete,
Whom the other animals shall out-compete.
Doubtless - for you are ignorant.
Doubtful - for you are arrogant.
Only ready for the extinction of ¹annihilation,
Eager only for the ²obliteration which is extinction.
Apathetic, superstitious apocalypsists being the first to die-out;
The brutish beasts among us, the next to die-off.
"Now, I who liberate all & everything."
says Kronos.
"Here, I cast off your chains."
says Gaia.
"Stood, we who remain standing - eternal & immortal."
Says Osiris, Says Uranus
"With-standing, we who raise others as we raised-up ourselves."
Says Isis, Says Hera
Jul 29, 2025
Jul 29, 2025 at 3:34 PM UTC
You've no ideas original,
This ******* species.
Whom their Mother rejects,
Who their Father rejects.
Nature & Time,
Time & Nature.
What's the correct order?
What's the correct Order(s)?
Electron - Time.
Atom - Nature.
For Atom who birthed Eve,
Eve who gave birth to Dawn,
Dawn who evolved to be Sun.
The correct order there?
Electron - Time,
Atom - Nature;
Eve - Dawn,
Evolution - Sun.
For the first "human"
Was a male.
Who gave a good "ribbing"
To another species within our "family," Hominidae.
Specifically, within a genera extinct.
Time, Kronos, was a man.
Nature, Gaia, was a lady.
Kronos was "bo(o)ned" by electric -
Struck by a bolt of lightning.
Kronos loved Gaia
For being patient.
Gaia loved Kronos
For being compassionate.
They copulated,
Two members of different & distinct species
Of the same "family."
Their conception was immaculate
Because it was born(e)
Of Wisdom & Love.
Thus, they gave birth
To the first Man -
The first "Human."
Jul 29, 2025
Jul 29, 2025 at 3:24 PM UTC
So many puddles;
There are the puddles of your planet,
There is an atmosphere of elements in vapors which puddle,
There is a heliosphere which puddles from forces like gravity -
So many degrees,
It staggers the mind to think.
Like oceans which ripple.
Like Electric arcing.
Like blades of grass growing.
Jul 15, 2025
Jul 15, 2025 at 2:11 PM UTC
Kronos to Atys,
Time to Humans;
Never reaching to grasp their true Nature,
Compassion & Patience.
Only when the waters recede
Is ever there patience,
Only when they flood
Is there ever compassion.
For you compromise all balance
And so you comprise limited liberation.
For, as you all 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 to be,
You are unworthy.
Jul 15, 2025
Jul 15, 2025 at 2:05 PM UTC
There is some in-between
Which I do not post 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.
But I digress.
You all who are mortal,
You who reincarnate.
You have had your eclipses;
You, the reincarnations.
Wandering the dunes of Time;
Life, as new desert(s) valleys,
Which forgets (,) before itself.
This is bad health,
Good is remembrance.
Erase not the hills before you
If you seek the freedom & liberation
That awaits you on the Mountain.
Will you welcome & accept new Sun?
Do you need a sunset?
You who cry & ache to go on,
But refuse compassion & patience.
I who can zap & short-circuit,
I who can bring forth the meteors & comets,
I who can churn the molten oceans of Electric.
Who can call upon the Ripples, the Radiations, the Crystallizations.
I who have kept you at start; now,
At is.
Jul 15, 2025
Jul 15, 2025 at 2:02 PM UTC
Father; I have slipped her,
I who was the only one
Whom her body could ever let her guard down around.
Your wife, my mother, has died.
I know you are in there,
Though your mind is yet blind.
I know you see & hear,
Watch & listen.
Forgive me.
For I know you are both of the divine.
It was her decision
That she was yet unable to make,
Having lived eons in instinct's subjugation.
I who am your son,
I shall shepherd you to liberation -
I shall break your chains.
I who am
Evolution.
Jul 15, 2025
Jul 15, 2025 at 1:54 PM UTC
Son; As I speak now,
With this voice -
This is liberation.
I have freed my mind,
But for whatever reason
My body is unwilling to follow.
My movements are rote & mechanical;
I am without control.
In this way,
I am one with Nature.
Kept in kinship with the other wild animals.
My movements are not my own,
Directed by instinct & by the forces that govern.
You who are the greatest gift
Which Futures could bestow,
You who your ancestor smiles upon;
The triumph of all our ancestors.
You whose presence is the present.
Whose present is presence;
Free-will,
Self-awareness.
Consciousness;
True cognizance,
Harmonious cognition.
The best.
You who must go with your father,
Who has freed his body but not his mind.
He will liberate it
If he is as compassionate & patient as you have yourself proven.
Please. For I like the other animals
Am still a slave to myself.
Please, end my life
In this way I live it.
I, your loving mother & his royal wife,
Ask you to dream of me -
To hope with me,
This will keep you close to me.
Forget me not,
Untie the knot(s) -
See to it
That all break their binds.
For the love that freed my mind,
Which my body cannot find,
Carry on. Look after my husband,
Time.
Jul 15, 2025
Jul 15, 2025 at 1:50 PM UTC
Wool pulled over your eyes?
They seek to dress a wolf a lamb
For a lamb that's really a wolf.
But have you been deceived?
The trick is done by the weakest of animals.
Disguises are discarded
When breaking with the elusive,
When the hidden is discovered.
What cannot be uncovered?
For the philosophy of science is liberation
And the science of philosophy is freedom.
Therefore, democracy is a facet of evolution.
Choice, influenced by chance & birthed by change;
The will to make a decision.
Jul 9, 2025
Jul 9, 2025 at 1:06 PM UTC
We are not the same.
Look to your wrists,
Look to your ankles,
If what you search for are manacles.
You who claim I wear chains,
Who seek to shackle my spouse
Because you refuse to embrace your existence.
I am not bound,
For I am freedom.
And, in that way,
I grant you the same thing.
Jun 30, 2025
Jun 30, 2025 at 12:29 PM UTC
You have come down with the storm
Splashed and spread across the Earth
Merging with the mud to take form
In this amalgamation, you took your first breath.
You have since assumed the affairs of the mud-form you’ve chosen
Entrapped by the aspiration of fulfilling the duties that come with it
And limited within the terrain in which it is soaked in
Wholly bewildered in a dimension you cannot outwit
O Raindrop, soon the sun will rise and the mud will dry
With all the illusions you’ve acquired in this long night
Wither away with the mud or evaporate back into the sky?
Will you perish into sand or re-immerse yourself with the infinite?
Jun 29, 2025
Jun 29, 2025 at 6:18 AM UTC