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"leatherback" poems
Lone leatherback cruises up from the deep, pausing on the fragile reef to feast ancient eyes upon the show, a bright parade laid out below butterfly couples paired for life, graceful angels in black and white stripe brilliant clowns and their toxic lovers, a plodding gang of giant groupers puffers bob like comic balloons, humble gobies on every menu beaked parrotfish grinding the coral down, in the ears a constant sound cowfish blowing puckered kisses, sea stars catching fishy wishes white-tipped, hammerhead, tiger sharks, triggerfish mean bite worse than their bark untamed unicorns too wild to ride, dogfish snapping, biting alongside coral trout color-shifting fools, attracting ladies in dull-hued schools **** headed wrasse rumbling through, thick lips mumbling go get a room sea horses nod in labyrinth caves, razor-toothed eels lying in wait if tentacled embrace should be your fate, nudibranchs will light the way to a place of bliss, none of this can exist, without the builders coral and algae bewildered, the ways of man egotistical rising ocean temperatures, carbon emissions, and el Niño victim of abundant greed, say goodbye to the Great Barrier Reef so massive is this magical place, one can see it from outer space astronauts witness its demise, ninety-percent barren, bleached bone white.
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Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 1:58 PM UTC
Reef
It’s been told she has the heart of the Sun A bright bronze sphere That can never turn down fun Brazen is she towards those who stand in her way Guided by faith, her feet never stray No matter the currents or the strength of the Tides She goes low when they fly high Like Hawksbill, Green, Loggerhead and Leatherback She attains the longevity they endure Her voice is as sweet as the Black Pineapple Her beauty resembles the Antiguan hibiscus Some might even say more For her beauty is something you can’t ignore Whenever one door closes She makes one more open Always giving faith a fighting chance Whenever the option arises She always chooses to DANCE! As the soca rhythm flows into her blood steam And the bright colors of carnival collide There outshining the others You can find the person I call my “MOM” My Antiguan Queen Always representing red white black blue and gold pride
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Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 1:27 PM UTC
Antiguan Queen
I'm not worthy of his total affection adoration enthrallment it isn't fair for him, truthfully, to have the one who is scared of all that. terrified to not be the girl who belongs to everyone & no one at once the girl who is writhing trying to hold tight & strangle the guilt grief regret shame but also driven by anxiety that all my writing suddenly needs to tell everyone that I am trying & anxiety that I am so moved by him, the affected girl who can't function walking into the sunset hand in hand. I seem to fight every step as if I'm not sure I feel safe being near the ocean that lets roam unchained & wild the sharks, giant squids, leviathans & my beloved giant leatherback sea turtles so endangered & dear. The anxiety of the surprise contract to dedicate every poem to him & plan a future without planning an end, too.
0
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 9:46 PM UTC
Attachment Theory
In the sand, We met each other, And names exchanged between friends Turned into faces with personalities, Characteristics, and ambitions. In the sand, We played together, Building homes out of sand, Pouring our heart and soul Into the project, And each other. In the sand, We walked together, Side by side, hand in hand. Bright sunsets become a backdrop to Meaningful talks, important words, And shared smiles. In the sand, We partied together, The firepit blazing under the stars, Music blaring and friends dancing, Their forms basking in the fire’s glow. In the sand, We argued, And harsh words were hurled, Not unlike the terrible stinging sensation Sand creates when trapped in your eye. In the sand, We parted ways, Under the same sunset backdrop, And I watched your footprints Fade away. In the sand, I lay there lonely, Babies crying and mothers yelling All around me, with me trying to Fathom the reasons why you left me. In the sand, Like a loyal leatherback sea turtle, We came back to our beach, and With tears in your eyes and Sand in your hair, you apologized. In the sand, You apologized for your selfishness, The way you jumped to conclusions, And you confessed that you had never, Ever forgotten me and our beach. A year later, in the sand, You went down on one knee, And after saying yes, I thanked God above That I had fallen in love with you In the sand.
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Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 1:10 PM UTC
In the Sand
Because I Am Indigenous. There’s always a brume of skepticism (of fear) that will loom like a fly, Slightly past 9:30pm on a Friday and the twilight is taking the sky I find myself reciting; “It’s too dangerous. It’s too dangerous.” I feel this way because it’s another day with another alert on the news broadcast; another “missing person’s” poster hanging on the bleak walls, The articles are increasing while the fight to battle against it is decreasing, We attend more social gatherings where we mourn more than we celebrate; We mourn, can’t you hear us?   Our missing indigenous women; Of injured sisters, mothers, Aunty’s and cousins. Of our murdered women. There’s so much injustice and shame in our system, Our voices get silence and we get dismissed with one wave of your ******* palm and no second glance. Shame. Because I am Indigenous, My cultural beliefs are frowned upon; my healing ceremonies that takes away the discrimination toxicity, my herbs that help heal my throat that’s yelling at you to listen, My prayers in my two native tongues for those effected by your colonialism. My cultural heritage that is label as witchcraft and locked away in shelves cloaked by their leatherback book that they hold so close to their sinful chests And dangling cross. Colonialism. Discrimination. Because I am Indigenous woman, I am afraid to walk alone. Because I am Indigenous, I am afraid to be a victim of a hate-crime. Because I am Indigenous. I am also resilient.
0
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 3:40 PM UTC
Because I am Indigenous
Because I Am Indigenous. There’s always a brume of skepticism (of fear) that will loom like a fly, Slightly past 9:30pm on a Friday and the twilight is taking the sky I find myself reciting; “It’s too dangerous. It’s too dangerous.” I feel this way because it’s another day with another alert on the news broadcast; another “missing person’s” poster hanging on the bleak walls, The articles are increasing while the fight to battle against it is decreasing, We attend more social gatherings where we mourn more than we celebrate; We mourn, can’t you hear us?   Our missing indigenous women; Of injured sisters, mothers, Aunty’s and cousins. Of our murdered women. There’s so much injustice and shame in our system, Our voices get silence and we get dismissed with one wave of your ******* palm and no second glance. Shame. Because I am Indigenous, My cultural beliefs are frowned upon; my healing ceremonies that takes away the discrimination toxicity, my herbs that help heal my throat that’s yelling at you to listen, My prayers in my two native tongues for those effected by your colonialism. My cultural heritage that is label as witchcraft and locked away in shelves cloaked by their leatherback book that they hold so close to their sinful chests And dangling cross. Colonialism. Discrimination. Because I am Indigenous woman, I am afraid to walk alone. Because I am Indigenous, I am afraid to be a victim of a hate-crime. Because I am Indigenous. I am also resilient.
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27
She kisses me as if I am her prized scotch stained leatherback book There isn’t enough writing in the lines of my pages no footnotes in this decree of insanity repetition throbbing as if asphyxiation is tattooed across my esophagus only to resuscitate every apology I’ve choked on too stuck on the goodbye in between my teeth she tells me that my spine reminds her of the ripples in a pond during a year long drought there isn’t enough water in the shallow puddle of my soul to pour anything into her cup she breaks her knees crawling away to another solution for her thirst she is driving on the highway passing every carcass of previous versions of herself i fell in love with i’ve been too busy chewing on her back tires attempting to slow down the roaring engine my ears are bleeding from every time she laughs at another boy’s sense of humor I am too caught up bringing down the skeletons in my closet that have decided to hang themselves their nooses are wrapped in every metaphor I have ever written she is busy grinding my ego into a line for inhalation getting high on my fault lines has always been a pastime for her no baseball archive of happiness in her smile only the hesitation before every time her lips crease like a subpoena to an AA meeting that you can never leave I attempted to soak every “I love you” I have ever dared whisper into the nape of her neck a spiraling contusion that is a novelist’s ****** desire she is choking on every slammed doorway she never had the courage to walk out of she dreams of diving off of parking garages to swim in the lucid concrete she is convinced she is nothing short of a sore jaw the bruxism caused from chewing on every roadside cross written in memory of her my fingers haven’t stopped bleeding as I continue to try to fill every ******* scotched stained leatherback book in the library that is my love for her so while there may be short infinites I will write too many of them for the both of us to count.
0
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
Fill Up The Pages
She kisses me as if I am her prized scotch stained leatherback book There isn’t enough writing in the lines of my pages no footnotes in this decree of insanity repetition throbbing as if asphyxiation is tattooed across my esophagus only to resuscitate every apology I’ve choked on too stuck on the goodbye in between my teeth she tells me that my spine reminds her of the ripples in a pond during a year long drought there isn’t enough water in the shallow puddle of my soul to pour anything into her cup she breaks her knees crawling away to another solution for her thirst she is driving on the highway passing every carcass of previous versions of herself i fell in love with i’ve been too busy chewing on her back tires attempting to slow down the roaring engine my ears are bleeding from every time she laughs at another boy’s sense of humor I am too caught up bringing down the skeletons in my closet that have decided to hang themselves their nooses are wrapped in every metaphor I have ever written she is busy grinding my ego into a line for inhalation getting high on my fault lines has always been a pastime for her no baseball archive of happiness in her smile only the hesitation before every time her lips crease like a subpoena to an AA meeting that you can never leave I attempted to soak every “I love you” I have ever dared whisper into the nape of her neck a spiraling contusion that is a novelist’s ****** desire she is choking on every slammed doorway she never had the courage to walk out of she dreams of diving off of parking garages to swim in the lucid concrete she is convinced she is nothing short of a sore jaw the bruxism caused from chewing on every roadside cross written in memory of her my fingers haven’t stopped bleeding as I continue to try to fill every ******* scotched stained leatherback book in the library that is my love for her so while there may be short infinites I will write too many of them for the both of us to count.
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41
I've always fallen in love in autumn always to fall apart early spring-- call me deciduous, the abscission just happens, I've considered my winter coats, my shields, the neat places I've tucked myself away were we to overwinter? to hibernate until further notice? the titles were frightening, impending and ominous, each one a textbook on subjects we had no knowledge of, dark leatherback novels featuring versions of ourselves we never meant to be or never knew we could -- wrapped in sleeping bags and white down duvets best during the winter becase we were both raging fires, flames licking at eachothers doors stopping short of our naked toes, put out by the here and there snow, but sometimes we were embers, pulsing stones of coal settling, wishing, waiting, kissing wounds breathing secrets over bruises-- but migration comes suddenly, i've been in and out dormant for years a sputtering volcano rumbling and groaning-- were we to overwinter? I lost the dream woke with a start, the caldera gave way and sunk in terrified I'd take you with, but travelers don't pause for eruptions or make their way through magma -- and volcanos don't plead for them to stay were we to overwinter?
0
Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 2:40 PM UTC
8/30 (were we to overwinter)