PAD #19: Back Again (Ocean)

I.

Here we are again,
hurting.
So broken and fighting tides
of bitterness.
Swallowing the axis of our hearts
and colliding in our souls.
A musical tempest.
Harmonies destroyed in the
downward pull.

II.

I fled into your ocean.
Hoping to be swept away from the shores.
Discovering you have been drifting too.
Shattered on the unkind rocks
as the seagulls pick at your ribcage.
The marrow in my lovely bones are chilled.
I needed the warmth of your flesh
to remind me I am still alive.

III.

You are virtuoso at mastering my pain.
Blending the vibrato of our heartbreaks.
Creating resonance from the dissonant beats
and break them into arias in my belly.
Chanting your name in ascending octaves
until I am breathless.
You scaling every arch of my body
Tuning me to your curvature.
Your staff striking my deep chords
My soprano shreds the darkness.
Encore, please.

IV.

The chaotic waves,
dwindle to soft currents.
We become reflective pools
mirroring vulnerability.
So beautiful.
Hearts just like the ocean.
Vast as the hurts we harbor.
Stranded together.
Awaiting the tide
to drown us once more.

PAD #13: The Spirit Beautiful

We have been taught to stand before mirrors
in judgment.
Condemning every curve, roll and dimple of flesh.
Breasts heavy with the yearning to be free
of their burdened hearts.
When was the last time you found yourself beautiful,
Woman?

We are strident slashes on neutral canvases.
These bodies do not fit into ideal figures.
Failing imitations of media mannequins.
Rife with thinner and thicker than thou complexes.

If we are different
Our celebrations are more like martyrdom.
When courage is stronger than manipulation.
Society will grapple our identity, fondle our confidence
and co-opt our sensuality.
Strip and display it like
young women on poles.
Bone, blood and supple flesh
offered to indolent eyes.
Beauty is for the bartering
and there is no self value on the stage.

When are we going to come off the stroll?
Stop painting ourselves garishly or
fade lackluster.
Cease being walking ads for every product
claiming to induce beauty.
Producing nothingness
in the nexus of our beings.
How gorgeous is the girl
who knows her own soul?
Is not afraid to live by her heart
and not in the sight of others.
Radiating the natural glow of a woman
In love with herself.

Naked to no one, but myself
I brave the mirror.
Accept the imperfect reflection,
knowing this body is beautiful.
Battle scars like sacred hieroglyphs.
Soft parts like rose petals on pillows.
An earthen vessel filled with
the wine of life and brilliance unbearable.
The Spirit Beautiful.

napowrimo #11

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napowrimo 10

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Napowrimo # 9

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NaPoWrimo #8: Unusual Love Poem

With only 15 minutes to spare until midnight...

Certain men in my life have been
cell phones with all the bells and whistles
That takes a splash and suddenly malfunctions.
Or any overpriced electronic diversion
That can't handle the accidental spills of life.

A pair of socks,
Going threadbare too quickly.
Leaving my heels and toes exposed.
You bargain bin buy, you.
Not worth the dime I spent
inside your thin cotton.
You never came clean after the wash.

The gorgeous red lily I bought that died after two days.
All decoration, and no growth.
Watering will kill any living thing
That does not know how to receive
nourishment.

I am accident prone.
You are the no fault insurance
after the damage is done.
No coverage, no compensation
for injuries incurred during involvement.

The men I have loved could be
cheap stilettos.
Sharp, sexy and fun.
Until stepping into the cracks
of the sidewalk.
The sole quickly wears down
and leaves me sore.

A Payless pick
will never be a Manolo Blahnik.
I love shoes, but next time I will shop
for better support.
Choose reliable men as accessories
to match.
No BOGO's allowed when it comes to
my heart.

NaPoWriMo #7: Love (Funny Side Up)

We laughed hooting like
crazed owls mocking poets

Your dimples caved in
My giggles kept them cratered
Our smiles wide as sunrise