touka

Jun 2020

-elixir-

My soul burns through these eyes
while I seek you out
through this blizzard
of life.
The rain of my soul,
wets my face,
as you dried it
with your winds of light.
I am oblivious
to your presence,
yet you're there.
Amongst the shadows
of my mind,
and blood in my veins.
Made to enliven me,
like an elixir.

Intuitions are the whispers from our soul

#love #mind #ramblings #thoughts #spirit #soul #selflove #respect #intense #deep

May 2020

m a k a y l a

To My Black Brother

you are your skin
your skin is good skin
my brothers, no one should be scared to raise you
your skin is good skin

black
black
each for times you were hurt
that’s all they saw

you are your skin
your skin is good skin
Ahmaud Arbery

#justice

touka May 2020

contra

I'll find a way to praise you
whether they cut out my tongue
or I bite it off

touka Apr 2020

hesychasm

under a wolf's moon
all the debt that you incur
under a wolf's moon
where the air eats at his fur

his expiry
like lily and ragweed

how much more effective death seems,
in the dark

where there goes a howling
comes more, goes two, goes three -

and even sleep is a poor divider;
a straw between the fire and he

I watch,
and my heart goes, so unfettered
so that even homer nods
clinging to red-letters
with my last little finger
'til he's gone

and isn't it a very strange pour
that the water crawls upward,
back
to lick the lip of the cap,
once more

touka Feb 2020

todestrieb

a rose climbs from this second row step
like a wound, always bleeding

touka Dec 2019

paroxysm

she must be in such pain
I always think
I always, always think

but still her ire gets the best of me

her pain is not quiet, not to me;

it's thrashing, kicking
screaming, crying, willing
to wring the garrote
of her small hands
around my neck

it's her quivering lip
spilling forth short "I'm sorry's" and
calling for my embrace
and then her small frame turning
to drub on the same wounds again,

again,
again
again, again
again again again again—

the flame's rising
and rising,
and I'm quick to rush in!
but I'm too small,
like spit on the fire

it's too hard,
it's too hard,
it's too hard

and even more I ruin my size

tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow
tomorrow, tomorrow

there is always tomorrow

like I'll wake up
with my wounds gone

touka Dec 2019

mother

and there she is

widows-thrill
or devil's backbone,
some sort of specimen
hog-tied to the sediment

combs her hand
with nails bit past the quick
through her hair
til she thinks there's not one incongruent strand

dragging her feet
down the primrose path
off on the hard way into heaven

I know I'm good for something
I just haven't found it yet