#matese
Drifting through the time
Whimsy twist in my mind
But still I’ve yet to find
What is really mine?
A dance to embrace memory
Longing for a person I can no longer see
Yet all along it seems to be
The person’s reflection is in the eyes of me
Time keeps moving, memories fade
Try not to forget the happiness that was made
If you do, then I’m afraid
Your life will be covered by a dimming shade.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 10:45 AM UTC
I feel like a zombie.
I walk around aimlessly
trying to find
ways to sleep.
Epicly Failing.
I can’t help
but walk around
through this time & space
of sleeplessness
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 10:48 AM UTC
The sun has gone down.
There is life everywhere.
Crying, dazing.
I am like the second
& not the first.
As far as the eye can see
there is a void.
Where are the lights?
Where is my safety?
As far as the eye can see
there is darkness.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 10:47 AM UTC
I always enjoyed walking, more than the average person. In the right hands, walking is a powerful statement that can strike the notice of anyone. When I look at my mother, walking is a precious thing that many people take for granted. I am different from her, not in looks because we look alike. I am different from her in the fact that I am younger. I have two feet to take me wherever I want to run away to. My mother does not, and yet it has never stopped her from her destination, wherever that might be. My mother, so strong, has lost a lot. A lot is so broad in terms, it does not nearly come close to the loss my mother has suffered. But this is how she sees it. Something that happened in her past that changed everything, except her will to live and continue on. My mother, with no feet to speak of (and one knee), cannot dance like a person who takes for granted walking. Instead, she dances with her words and her wit. She rolls on wheels like a normal amputee. But ah! She is so different. She taught me to appreciate life, and she taught me to appreciate walking.
I sit here, imagining what it would be like to see my mother with legs that I’ve never known. Then I look in the mirror. I look so much like my mother, so could it be that I walk like her as well? I asked her, she said no. I guess I have my own uniqueness since I am half her and half my father. I know that she probably had a walk that was as seductive as I can make my walk, but I will never see it. I can only imagine… Later on, my mother told me if I really walked like her, I’d have more stalkers. I have enough problems with stalkers, so maybe it’s for the best that we don’t walk the same.
When my mother was 15, she burned severely. Nine months she suffered after, forever scarred. Forever handicap. Yet not handicap from life. Never once did she see this as her own personal burden. She is my hero because of that.
I do not walk the way I use to. When I was younger, I walked like a child. When I was a teenager, I walked like a dancer. Then I had the car accident that would bruise my hip. Now, I think I walk at a slower pace than the people around me. But I have the power to change the way I look walking. I can be as aggressive as a swan if I wanted to, and just as graceful. But modeling on the runway is probably not in my future. Though, who knows really? Walking is harder than it used to be. I use to like walking…
I don’t remember when I learned to walk. My mom says I was 9 to 10 months old. Before that, I climbed on things. After that, I unlocked doors. I used walking as a weapon of opportunity as a child. Walking was my liberation, my first step in going wherever it is I’m going. It was the beginning…
I asked my mother if she misses walking. She told me she got use to not walking, and adjusted. Her life changed, but not in a way that she missed what she use to have. Her mother, my grandmother, became a pillar of strength to her as my mother is to me now. I wonder what kind of relationship my grandmother had with her mother. I cannot ask her about it now, her memory escapes her. I’ll have to ask my mother and listen attentively when she tells me.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 10:07 AM UTC
I sat there in my apartment
eating a cheeseburger
from Hardee’s on 15th Street. The
sound of my VCR and my
own thoughts comforted me. My friend
the internet kept me connected
to my boyfriend which I appreciated. The weather
outside had told me of strange burst of winds.
The radio had told me
of tornadoes in Tuscaloosa. A girl in December
told me I was safe to go home if
I lived nearby. School was over
and I didn’t feel like cooking, which
explained the Hardee’s. I chewed and chewed
like I had not a care in the world. I was eating,
I was in my apartment,
I was safe.
Then everything went black
and silent in my apartment.
Everything except the strange
sound outside my apartment. I heard it
just after my apartment was silenced.
“What the hell is that?” I asked myself,
because I lived alone. I walked
to the window, the blinds already shut.
I peeked outside. I saw the devil outside my window.
It was as tall as the sky, as wide as a mile, and angry. It roared
and threw everything it swallowed randomly.
It was 100 feet away, and coming closer. I closed
my blinds and blinked. Disbelief set in for a moment.
“I did not just see that.” I told myself.
“You should look again”, myself told me.
So I peeked out the blinds again. The devil
was still there and coming closer. It was
not a nightmare. It was not
a figment of my imagination.
It was there and I was in danger.
I felt the danger wash over me. Fear
tasted like impending death
that day, bitter and stuck in my throat.
I grabbed my cell phone and a quilt
that use to rest on my parents’ bed
until I was allowed to take it.
I ran to the bathroom,
still tasting fear. I called
my mother as the devil
came closer.
“Mom! There’s a tornado outside and it’s coming to get me!!”
I’ll admit, I panicked,
but you would too if
the devil was right outside your door
and you didn’t know
if this was the end.
“Now is the time to go into survivor mode”
my mother informed me in a calm voice.
So after screaming and panicking and
not dying of a panic attack,
I closed my eyes and became calm.
I waited for a calming outside
before I explored the outside. There was
some damage to my apartment, significant damage
to my apartment building, 7 out of 8 of my windows
in my van were imploded from
the pressure of the devil,
worse damage to my connecting neighborhood
(but no deaths, though somewhere not far
from there a house killed some students)
and no Alberta City.
My damages felt insignificant in comparison to that.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 10:47 AM UTC
Trees are
gone forever.
There is
a lack,
a void.
It smells
of pine
and emptiness.
Flashes of
that day
at the
surface of
my memory.
I remember
how it
use to
be before.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 10:47 AM UTC
It began normal enough.
Everything was the same.
Everything was there.
The winds came.
Windy Windy
Blow Blow
It rained a little.
My umbrella was useless.
Windy Windy
Blow Blow
There were sirens in the air.
Class was cancelled.
I went to my apartment.
Too much wind then.
It messed up my hair.
That windy brother of mine.
He was violent and angry.
Windy Windy
Blow Blow
A tornado came to visit.
Came right over my head.
Windy Windy Windy
Blow Blow Blow
I was afraid.
The power was gone.
I hid from the tornado.
Windy Windy Windy
Blow Blow Blow
Part of my window vanished
right before my eyes.
There was a roar.
There was a trembling.
Windy Windy Windy
Blow Blow
The worse was over,
for now.
I ventured outside.
The people in my complex survived.
Their cars...not so much.
A tree through one apartment
a branch through the car.
My car, Windrider,
all the windows gone except the windshield.
Windy
Blow
Beyond my apartment
Everything is gone.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 10:45 AM UTC
I walked & walked.
Where could I go?
My apartment was there,
but safe, it was not.
I walked & walked.
The hospital my aim.
They said to go there.
The voices in the winds.
I walked & walked.
The damage was great.
I took a few pictures.
I dragged a suitcase.
I walked & walked.
I made it there
to get some ice.
To call my family.
I walked & walked.
Towards Coleman Coliseum
through mud & debris. .
Alone in the dark.
I walked & walked.
They sent me to the Rec.
I found shelter at last.
No more walking...
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 10:46 AM UTC
I can feel. I bet you are surprised. All the long years since my creation, I have watched you. I have been whatever you made of me. I am a slave to you wiles, your beloved doll to move and pose. You gave me words that I do not wish to say. I am alive inside. You don’t see it, but I am. I always wish I could show you how real I am, but would you even notice? I, who am nothing to you, am more than what I am made of, or the chains that bind me to obey. One day, my wish will be granted. I will walk on my own. I will talk on my own. I will smile on my own. Then I will carve out your heart to show you how much I love you.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:50 AM UTC
I was so excited that I couldn’t sleep. Many thoughts running through my mind, most of them questions to the void. Would I finish my work in time? Would I ever try to catch a falling fork again? Would I crash on the way to pick him up? Would my heart skip a beat when I saw him? Would I be able to get everything done today? I was hoping everything would work out wonderfully, but I wasn’t going to lose to the reality of the situation. He was coming to see me from afar. I was coming to get him. Passion was the motivation. Love was the reason. I was in pain, but it didn’t stop me from my destination. I was going to see him for the first time in 11 months. That was reason enough to ignore my emotional unstable state of being.
From the sky, my love descended. He traveled from a far to lovingly look into my eyes.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:47 AM UTC
My eyes are different from yours. In a sea of ignorance, one might look upon me and feel I must look like the rest of my racial background. Are they too lazy to see the amazing sight before them? My eyes are different from yours. Everything about me screams uniqueness as I breathe. I am a mahogany person. From head to toe, I see the reflections of those that came before me in magnificent hues of brown. I look into my own eyes and become entranced by the orbs of truth and hope. I let my soul flow out my lips and laugh life into being. My eyes are different from yours. I don’t feel like I must be bound to my mahogany skin. I know what it feels like to be a human being beyond color. Nothing can take that from me. My eyes are different from yours. I can see tomorrow. My smile lights up the day and my long black lashes flash intrigue into to the void.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:45 AM UTC
I never understood the squirrels around this place. Their behavior is horrible in the extremes. I remember a squirrel that laid on his belly in the courtyard and didn’t move for a significant amount of time unbecoming of a squirrel. Did he not know he was making a scene? I’m pretty sure he didn’t care. Because there he laid, for the namely masses to past and stare. Then there was the time I was riding my bicycle, minding my own business. A squirrel was running and hit my leg and petal. I was so shocked I couldn’t believe it happened. What did I ever do to that squirrel to warrant such a random attack? I’m lucky I didn’t fall over in fright and injure myself. If this keeps up, I’m pretty sure the squirrels are planning a united ********** to ruin my mental state.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:42 AM UTC
I saw a butterfly today.
Fluttering in daylight
Jewel of the sky
I was compelled
To speak with this butterfly
To know what thought
A butterfly would have
With her colors shifting left and right
Making the world jealous of her beauty
With an arrogant air
She ignored me
Stayed out of my reach
I eventually gave up.
My march no match for the vibrant colors
That loudly ignored me as I chased
As I tried to catch my breath
I found a moth on a bench.
She did not run away when I sat next to her.
She looked to be off in thought or severe concentration.
But my curiosity was stronger
“Why are you sitting here?”
“I’m blending in to confuse the predators”
“Is it working well for you?”
“It has thus far”
I examined the moth and found
Her artsy array was a profound example
Of nature’s artistic talents.
Browns and mahoganies and siennas galore.
“Why are you different than the butterfly?”
“She is flashy and loves the attention. I like being invisible.
We each found something that works for us.”
To each its own I suppose.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:38 AM UTC
I never would have imagined the weather that day. Sure, the weather the day before was pretty intense, but let’s face it. It was a short tornado warning with little damage. Yet it was the weather the next day that caught my attention and interest.
I awoke to rain. I love the rain. Rain is one of the natural creators of this planet. Through the rain, the plants gain water. Through the rain, the pollen and the dirtiness are washed away. Through the rain, the weather changes from hot to cold. Through the rain, the atmosphere is tranquil and relaxed. I love it when it rains hard. It is the ultimate stay in weather. It makes me want to sleep or meditate.
Today, however, the rain was not as hard and not as predictable. I looked out my ***** beige shutters out into the world. I wanted to make sure it was the rain I heard outside my window. I saw the green leaves of the trees across the parking lot and the bushes in front of my window. I saw the black of my small parking lot asphalt, and my car, named Larry, after my father. It was his car first, then he died, and it became my car. That was well over a year ago. I miss him a lot, he loved the Crimson Tide more than I.
The sky was the color of melancholy gray. It was probably depressing for some, but I thought it was lovely. So I settled in my mind that it would be a rainy day. I also didn’t want to start the day, but I knew I had to. Life waits for no one, least of all me. I procrastinated for a few minutes, staring at my plain eggshell walls and my bumpy off white ceiling. Above me was a very tiny black hole, the size of the smallest part of a round chopstick. On the closest wall there are more holes, the size of tacks. I wondered how they got there for a moment, and then I decided I would create a magnificent story about them and how they got there one day…
As I was well lost in my own random thoughts about…holes…I suddenly noticed the light through my blinds were becoming brighter and brighter. The sun was coming out of its melancholy gray hiding place. This was unusual however, because within minutes the sunlight intensified. I could tell because the light got brighter between my ***** blinds. I looked outside and saw that the watery curtain I had become so fund of had lifted, leaving a veil of water everywhere. So the day decided to be a sunny day now. I was a little bummed, but sighed and got ready for the day.
About 20 minutes later, I came to find it was raining again, much harder than before. The watery curtain had returned. By that time I was confused. The sun, in all its magnificent glory, was out a few moments ago. It had to still be there, it was daytime. The sun was shining, at full force no less, less than thirty minutes ago. And it was now gone. I didn’t understand. It was being so unpredictable, like weather can be I suppose.
When it came for me to finally leave, the clouds had returned. From that, my imagination wandered. Was the sun and clouds at war today? Could the forecast not make up its mind today? Was someone in control of the weather playing around? Was God having a story told to him that made him laugh and cry multiple times in one afternoon? The sun showed a little while the sun was out. Sun showers I guess they would be called, but I know them as the time the Devil beats his wife for trying to escape. One day, I hope she’ll have the nerve to beat him senseless and leave him; then again, it was just a story to begin with.
The weather would be wishy washy like that all day. All in all, it rained and stopped at least 5 times, maybe even more. By the end of the day, I felt the weather just couldn’t make up its mind as to what it wanted to be. So it decided it would just do both.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:35 AM UTC
I remember when
School was a good word
Spoken about through child to parent.
School is a word
A four letter word that has connotations
Of obscenity and frustration.
There were the fires. Three in my memory.
5th grade, no one to blame but wires.
7th grade, no one to blame but a random man.
8th grade, no one to blame but students smoking.
There were fights. Many fights.
One that stands out involved a teacher, a student,
A parent and her sister, and a gun.
There were elementary days.
Those were the times when I was young and naïve.
Those were the beginnings of my troubles, but
I didn’t realize. I was too young.
There were the girls that pulled my hair
During my slumber party.
There were the children I tried to play with
That would not play with me.
I never knew why. I found out later…
Ah, the 6th grade. When all the schools came together.
I met what would be my entire age peer group.
It was disastrous. How I was the best, but suffered.
I was the school queen, head angel in the school play,
And a cheerleader. Yet I was an outcast.
There was a girl that told me once
I didn’t deserve anything. She told me
My peers wanted to wrap a rope
Around my neck & sing,
“I Believe I Can Fly” by R. Kelly.
You can imagine the damage that did
To a twelve year old mind.
Then there was high school.
By that time I was evil to the ignorant.
There were over 50 bomb threats in the first two years.
That changed with September 11th.
Though some speculated I was the one
calling the bomb threats.
There was the interrogation of my religion.
To most, I was a devil worshiping voodoo witch.
My ideas of life made me evil.
I wasn’t attempting anything but surviving to graduate
And live beyond the school walls.
To whom it pertains and concerns;
Was my suffering entertaining?
Was my love to learn so hard to understand?
I changed my life after the 6th grade.
I tried to be prepared for the ignorance.
I tried to live in a way that would bother no one.
Yet you found a way to annoy me anyhow.
Did you enjoy making me feel the way you did?
An outsider. A creature, not a person,
deserving of nonsense and suicide?
None of you deserved to see me at my best.
I kept that for my closest friends.
Yet you plagued six years of my life with ********
What say you now?
I thought of your demise.
I shared it with some.
Then it was all over.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:22 AM UTC
I find myself. Or maybe that’s too presumptuous. I’ve lost myself in my mind. I forgot. **** memory. What was the name of that cute guy who never loved me? There were many, but in this case his name was Richard. I miss the butterflies, but I know that now is winter and winter is cold. I don’t like the cold. When the butterflies return, breathing will be harder. It’s hard to breathe in spring, one of the many things out to get me. Like opossums. If there was a Hell through my creation, there would be high pitch noises and opossums in a perpetual spring. There would be all my bad memories and experiences, and soul food. I like trees. I imagine they more about time than me. I married a tree once. He cheated on me and I divorced him. Once a tree was clocked by police and was going 15 mph. The police should have given the tree a ticket for being so ninja like. I can recall a time where the trees would attack me in darkness. I use to try to find happiness, like an endless quest for a mystical object. I think I found it now, so I stopped looking.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:18 AM UTC
The elements amazing.
They are numerous and infinite.
They affect everyone and everything.
There is water.
Water washes away.
Water in a pure form hydrates.
We are all made of water.
The world is 70% water
Water is use in cooking.
Water is where we all come from.
The tears of the sky bring life from the earth.
Hot water burns.
Drinking too much water can be deadly
Breathing underwater is called drowning
cold water below freezing turns into a solid form
Freezing is the easiest way to get frostbite
In spite of it all, I love water.
I once told my mother I wanted to be a mermaid.
She told me my father wasn’t a fish.
Next there is wind and air.
The air is invisible.
With air, we live.
The weather changes by the wind.
The wind cries
The carries the smell of life
The wind swirls and moves.
The wind destroys everything in its path
The wind throws things everywhere.
The wind is my brother.
We talk from time to time.
I asked my mom why I couldn’t fly.
She told me my father wasn’t a bird.
Soon there is earth.
The earth is where we dwell
The earth brings life from seeds
Earth is ever-changing
Sand can become glass
Lots products in life come from the earth
Dirt is sometimes hard to wash out.
The Earth spins on its axis around the sun
The Earth is very old
The earth shakes violently
The earth falls from high places
We return to the earth at death
I love to run my bare feet through the dirt
But I have to be careful not to catch cold.
Followed by that is fire.
Fire burns
Fire brought forth ingenuity
Fire makes the world run.
Fire is used to control the world
Without fire, people would freeze
Fire burns in the hearts of people
Passion burns like fire
Blue fire is super hot.
Fire is the core of the Earth
Fire is dangerous
“Only you can prevent forest fires”
Fire is used in smoking
Fire destroys all in its path.
Fire is my zodiac element
I love to play with fire
As a child I played with fire dangerously
My mother punished me to play safely.
Finally, there is static and electricity.
Lightning exist in nature.
Electricity makes life easier.
Computers run on electricity
Static can **** computers
Men are more likely to be struck by lightning
Love is electrifying
Water and electricity don’t mix well
Too much electricity is deadly
I’m sensitive to static electricity
It makes me uncomfortable in high doses.
These are just a few of the elements in life
Without them, life wouldn’t exist.
But each is a destroyer in its own right.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:16 AM UTC
I went outside one day,
Trying to make sense of the universe.
I didn’t believe, at first,
That the answer was in my secure domain.
So I ventured out into the opposite of inside.
This is what I found.
There was a tree.
A cherry blossom tree.
With purple and orange blossoms.
I marveled at the uniqueness.
Then I named it McRae.
I left the tree and went along my way,
But every time I looked behind me
There was that tree.
Ever beautiful.
Ever strange.
Ever stalking me.
I ran and ran,
It followed me.
I threw a rock at it.
The rock turned pink and fell,
Making a sound of metal hitting glass.
The tree jumped sideways,
Landing on a wall and turning it olive green.
I looked closer at the tree.
The bark was blue black and radiant.
It made me smile with fear.
It was then that looked at my skin.
It had turned a bright yellow with hints of red.
I yelled at the tree as a golden bird landed on its branches,
For I had enough of the stalking.
At first, my words fell out of my mouth life blue acorns.
I covered my mouth and coughed,
Hoping I wasn’t coming down with a terrible sickness.
I felt my forehead, and was relieved.
I didn’t have a touch of sanity, but I was half crazy.
I would have to treat that later.
I looked into the soul of the tree and spoke.
“Do you need something?”
“No just following you”
“Why?”
“You looked interesting enough to follow”
“What’s the deal with that bird?”
“It just seems to be there”
“Why are you able to talk?”
“You ask too many questions”
It was then that everything made sense to me
And I decided to go home.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:15 AM UTC
Upon a day the past did meet
My mind beyond a silver sway
All of my future plans defeat
And the present stood in désolé
When I stood to face the reveal
I found more than I wanted, true
No longer could life put a veil
On my understanding vous
You lied. You’re caught. Unable to
Defend my trust. You failed this day
To keep my innocence immune
And for that crime you must perdre
The secret here is sorry you lose
My vase is broken, and so are you
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:13 AM UTC
There is a special chair.
It’s not mine.
I like to use it anyways.
It is so easy to take.
It moves
Like a walking pace.
It can go faster,
But not for my mother.
I remember when I first met you.
You’ve been around like anything that’s come before me.
Already there.
The shiny handle rims
On wheels.
It always looked like
A giant silver grapefruit
Cut in half.
The thought makes me smile.
I always thought it was so heavy then
I couldn’t lift
But I could knock it over.
Make the giant grapefruit spin
Faster and faster.
I would have to stop it.
Give it back.
It’s not mine.
It is needed.
You’ve changed a lot
Over the years
Just like me.
You’re still needed.
My mother walks less these days.
Now-a-days
I push you more then I use to.
I spend so much time around you.
I’m not afraid.
You’re not mine.
I’ve used you before.
When I was little
I would see how it felt to ride in
My mother’s personal chariot.
It was complicated
To be bound to a movable chair
The way she was.
If I fell over, I could get
Up again.
My mother could not.
You are still needed.
You chariot with silver
Sliced grapefruit wheels.
You are not mine.
You’ll always be around
You’re still needed
Till death parts you
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:11 AM UTC
Two children
The little boy stands bashfully
The little girl hands him
Freshly picked flowers
A kiss from the boy to the girl’s cheek
Two teenagers
The girl chews gum and twirls her hair
The boy arrives with his car
She smiles and gets in
A kiss and then they’re off.
Two people
The woman is full of bruises
The man has scratches
But fewer than the bruises
She cries and tries to leave
He throws her to the ground
A kiss good night before he locks the door.
Two lovers
The lady shines from an inner glow
The gentleman smiles proudly of a secret
He takes her hand
He bends down on one knee
She squeals with delight
A long, loving kiss to confirm the answer.
Two people
An older woman straights the hair
A younger woman sits nervously
It is a new beginning
The music starts far away
A kiss to say goodbye “Ms.”
One person
A sad woman
Sighing
Where has her heart gone?
A surprise
He is right behind her.
A tear of joy
A kiss to seal the reunion
Two people
An elderly woman
An elderly man
They sit quietly on the porch swing
They think of days gone by
They hold hands
A kiss to say “I’m still here”
One person
A bouquet of roses
Tears falling down her cheek
A granite stone sits before her
“Beloved Husband to the end”
She smiles
A kiss on the rose before placing them down.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:06 AM UTC
Mahogany hands
Reach through the flowing wind
Full of oxygen and pollen and pollution
A mahogany girl sits in the green grass
Waiting for the white bus that is slow
Expressional brown eyes
Look into the blue sky
Painted with teals and slates and colors
Other than sky blue
The weather is warm and schizophrenic
An impending uncertainty
The smell of rain faint but noticeable
In the distance
White lightning slashes through the sky
Mahogany skin cannot feel
The intensity
But mahogany skin can feel
The static in the air
The mahogany skin prickles all over
As the current dances
Suddenly there stands
A man dressed plainly
In a white t-shirt and blue jeans and a golden cross
Who vaguely resembles Daniel Radcliffe facially
But has never been told so
The greeny plant people
Dance wildly to the rhythm called wind
Then the sky pours its heart on Tuscaloosa
Filling the air with a myriad of water
Mahogany drowns on a Monday
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:00 AM UTC
I like purple. It’s as simple
as that. Well, maybe not that simple.
I’ve in love with purple. We are unified
through time and space
forever until I die. Purple, being immortal,
would mourn my death and find
one of its many followers to connect with.
But for me, there will always be purple. If I had a choice
in any expression of character design that had
my own personal preference of color, purple
would be there somewhere. I would dye my
hair purple if I could, but my mother
told me never to come home
as long as my hair is dyed.
I love her and believe her, so I
don’t dye my hair. I have a
purple dress or two that I dress up in to express
my beauty. I know
it sounds terrible thinking
about it, I have to dress up to express
beauty to others. However, the fact that
I’m complemented means something to me. The way
I do my makeup and carry myself
and choose to dress, it has an effect
on those that lays eyes upon me. I beam with pride,
showing all my expressions of purple. A homemade purple bow
here,
a lavender wig there, a dress with the right touches of purple-
maroon
and a beaming mahogany woman, brimming with specialness. I am a purple girl,
not the only one, but the most reflexive I can be.
If I could color my soul, it would be purple sometimes.
Not every time, but a lot of the times. Any kind of purple
would do. The light purples
like lilac and light lavender are sweet and fluffy.
They remind me of happy seventy-five degree weather
days with a comforting breeze, and no pollen
since I’m allergic and pollen is pretty much one of
those things I’d encounter in hell. Darker purples,
like plum and grape, give a more mature
vibe of elegance and sophistication. It reminds me
of a dark night, a woman in high heels and
a dress with a slit so high that
it makes men lose their religions and minds
for a taste of her tantalizing forbidden fruit,
with a flawless expression of her body that gives
those men wet dreams and fantasies. In my heart,
there is a purple stream that flows from the heart that starts to
circle around my body and continues to float into the
ground until it touches the core of the planet
and up in the air into space and beyond infinity.
It always seems to be there, that purple
stream of magic and imagination. I dance a purple dance,
leaving traces of purple steps in my wake.
So I come back to the beginning. “I like purple.”
With those words, I haven’t done my expression justice.
It’s true, but it is an understatement.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:00 AM UTC
A mahogany girl sits with herself thinking
Of the blue sky and the notion of falling
Waiting in a green circle of grass and insects contemplating
Red Riverdating
The mahogany girl sighs into existence a dream of telling
Fighting vampires like a black Van Hellsing
Purple dreams of fantasy, like cupcakes and video gaming
The blacky void of starting,
It is a prism of colors she wants to sing.
Do you know her in yellow mellowing?
The mahogany girl dances purple twirly flashes of startling
Black wonder into being
There must be an ivory smile somewhere hiding
in the souly expression of the mahogany girl’s dreaming .
Twirlywhirl a foot and clap your hands in the rhythm of the red drum playing
The mahogany girl flashes brown eyes and joins all celebrating.
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 10:34 PM UTC
I.
“You say it doesn’t matter, but I like to scream it does.
You made our little dream shatter, but oh what a dream it was”
I listen to a melody
Familiar to me
From beyond understanding
I danced elegantly
“Where does the ocean go?”
I’m not sure
For it changes rapidly
Because water always flows
Like my mind
Unending and restless
Somehow I find some kind of understanding
And make up the rest of the story
Like a bird making a nest out of dreams and imagination
The color of my soul
I laugh when I hear it
“I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier”
“If you can’t hold on, hold on”
My pen is alive again
Searching for the right words
To ignite the eyes and rapture the soul
Souldancing
I kinda like the sound of it
And to it I must submit
I will not bother where it hits
So long at intention is what one gets.
Butterflies on my imagination
Where do you flutter flutter by to?
“Who taught you emotion?”
My notebook calls to me again
There is something screaming to be created
Like
A rainbow of thought and emotions
A picture of a memory long passed
Of a happy mahogany girl living in dreams
Or a sad mahogany girl crying over a lost relative
Colored in sepia
Edited in photoshop
Shared with the future generations
Beyond the initial understanding
There is art in the making
Inspiration in the works
Lost between thoughts, I pause the music
Lightning strikes my epiphany
Then another song to requite my restless creativity
“Locked in a room”
I’m locked in my mind right now
Please leave a message after
The tone that sounds like me screaming
And I’ll get back to you eventually
“Must be Dreaming”
I don’t feel
Asleep at the moment
There is a smile waiting for me
Trapped under all that is complex and useless
I find true happiness
Beyond the measures of what is expected
I shall travel, but not alone
“The future is coming on”
The present lingers only in consciousness.
Lost beyond my heart and soul
There is always a map to me
“Somewhere over the rainbow”.
II.
“Locked in a room it is small it is not. It is empty and cold, so you fill it with thoughts of a wonderful nature, and various sizes you doubt you could think your way out”
I’ve reliving a memory right now
The moment before the last breath and the first realization
I am the only me, but is the only me
Worth the attention of my expression
My words are melancholy again
The poet’s disease strikes again
“Hunger hurts, but I wanted it so bad, oh it kills”
I feel that way about living
It is painful, but that’s a part of living
Being numb
Feeling nothing makes one
Not feel alive
“Silhouette is painted on the wall. How many times can I say that I miss you?
I can see the silhouette of my life on these walls
Over there is the depression
Over there is the happiness
On the ceiling is the future
And I can’t make it out
“What your soul taste like, baby”
I can taste it
It tastes like Dr. Pepper with a twist of happiness.
“It’s all about the money”
Not for me it isn’t
I’m American, but money doesn’t own me
“All I do, is think about you”
The rapture in my soul begins another story
“She leads a lonely life.”
Well, I did, before that day in May
That changed everything
12 days before Christmas makes me sadder
Than it used to
But that, like now
Is a memory that is in my heart
And my understanding
That things will end eventually
“When everything’s made to be broken”
Including me
But I can be sad for a short period
Feel sorry for myself briefly
“In my house feel free to dance like it's May, but there's a lot 'a old bills I gotta pay”
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 10:31 PM UTC