the day...the truth

the bright of day

nudged

through morning's darkest hour

forcing my lids to part...

blink and focus

bringing the shadows into form,

lit and clear...

once again

i am awake...

too early to rise

too late to fall back to sleep
too in the know

to ever be blind and dumb again

the vision seen

cannot be unseen

forgotten

or spun into gold

...instead,

it is molded

and ornately designed

to be worn as a reminder

...a bauble of testimony

to the day's newness

to the sun's brilliance in truth

to the unveiling of wakefulness

and it's stark forcefulness

through the night's cradling

i felt cozy...

snug against the

night's quilted comfort

an assent

to yawns of indifference

dreams of escapism

the warmth of my bed

made

and then rustled

fraught with thoughts

of fought intuition

...sought answers

come to fruition

yet,

just like a frail child

preferring pretend

to the present...

when the answers

shine through the twinkling of

an evening's notion,

i beg for shade

for sheets to cover

to block truth's rays

praying for more time

just TEN more minutes

to snooze

resenting the day's

encroaching influence

of the illuminated reality,

and it's gleaming immovability...

i want to roll over

go back to sleep,

pretend this light

is a lucid dream of distortion

and be ignorant to the day

for once...

i want to "sleep in"

...and not deal with what

ALWAYS seems to be

a disruption in my rest

the truth of what it is

instead of what i thought...

what i hoped...

what i needed it to be

...that dozing

half-sleep

sweet unconsciousness

that comes before morning...

BEFORE the truth...rises with the sun

...before i'm rudely awakened

ripped from my sleep

by the bright of the day

imagining His image

as i amble along

working my way home

from work

i give my Father's nature...

nods and smiles

and thoughts...

i wonder,

if my movements

mock His...

traversing over

sidewalks of slate...

old,

from weathering

and the weight of the world...

blades of grass

and victorious weeds

peeking through cracks

mountains to the tiny?

hills to climb?

i imagine,

that i am to ants

what He is to me...

and that my feet

create shifts

in the atmosphere's heat...

torrential winds...

drips from condensation

from my carbonated libation

a cloud of rain

for the microscopic terrain?

my steps...seismic?

them holding on for dear life

scrambling for cover

as my left foot hovers...

then i get visions

i picture,

God swirling His finger,

like a teaspoon in a cup

and then think on cyclones

[oz or bust]

wading in His water...

tsunamis...hurricanes?

i feel so small,

but so large, in the same...

can you see Him?

kicked back,

relaxing...gazing on the heavens

propped up on His elbows...

did He just make...

craters?

His being's impression

a succession of valleys?

a spilled drink

a river...rapidly streaming?

all the way home...

i gander downward

measuring my steps

casted over "my domain"

and again...

i wonder

and as i become aware,

i suddenly begin to care

and step cautiously

over delicate dusty mounds

low grass where butterflies abound

what looks like clovers

to you and me...

seem like stretches

of forests with tropical trees...

and i nod

and smile

remember my place

as i take

each

gingerly

step

home

with God's grace

i pray

that His stroll across the skies

are as merciful on you and i

and that each motion

of His hand,

is casting favorable weather

onto our land

so...

as i amble along

i praise Him

with my love of

every surrounding thing

i proceed like lives depend on me...

and imagine

the "little ones"

are thanking the Him in me

as i...

imagine His image

{every time i walk home...i think this. i go from watching the ground to watching the sky. i'm so aware of His presence wherever i am...wherever i walk...and i try to remain aware and considerate of everything around me. i can't imagine walking obliviously along without thought to my Maker. it's unthinkable. this poem is part ode, poem, and random thought. i finally obeyed Him and wrote this.}

God bless you...

where?

where?
where in my resume,
does it vaguely say...
"say what you will to me...
like a woman with no will to be..."
where?
where, in all of the time
you've spent eying my timeline...
did it refer to me as a thin dime?
i'm priceless...
if i were weighed,
appraised
and dollar-ed...
the amount would be astronomical,
and therefore,
you couldn't afford to be my whore...
what i bring to the table,
can't be consumed with a lick
a swallow
a taste or sniff...
it's a full-course meal
that feeds and replenishes...
you liked me for a reason...
you were attracted to my class,
so never whittle me down to ass...
never assume my
sweetly placed
acquiescence is a free pass
to be crass
so where?
no...
WHEN...did you forget me?
when did you begin thinking
that my nighttime low and slow
[a gift to you]
gave reason to approach me like a ho?
the talk you desire,
requires one of two things
one,
i've given you a key to my lock box
with permission to enter with no signs for stop...
or,
you've been crowned king to my kween
and we're officially on the same team...
learn me, honey...
before placing me in the fold
for if you paid heed closely with intent,
you'd know i stand beyond the crowd
gleaming like gold
i'm not even bent,
just giving you a tip
for whenever,
IF ever...
i let you close enough to it
you will have come into riches
with peace and little resistance
to a woman who will never tolerate
being dumbed down to a simple place to rotate...
figure out where?
where you misread
where did i mislead?
...because i don't think
ANYWHERE
on MY resume it says...
lose your mind then proceed!

don't wonder

i know, boo...
you wonder why,
i,
the seemingly shy...i
can still keep him,
drooling my name,
fantasizing in vain...
feigning disdain for me
as he seethes,
"fuck her"...
yet still he grieves...
in heaves
and he can't
throw up and out
the feeling of me
throughout
deep in his gut...
you're like,
WHAT
the fuck...is it about HER?
there's never
ONE
thing, that's got him trippin'...
it's the whole package
from convo
to finger dippin'
from kisses
he can't forget
to the love
that slipped through his net
it's the way
his dreams
came true with my smile,
and how he felt like a king
with just a simple dial...
you don't get it
...it's not meant for you to
and that's your issue
squeezing in between
what's dynamically meant for two
and still being clueless,
because
though i'm gone
he's still not full off of you
you wonder to yourself...
how a "prude"
could dig deep and through
and be in places
he'll never show you
but again,
you're focusing
on shit that has NOTHING
to do with you...
but,
if you really want to know
how it is
i still fit...
as if i were still there
how i still resonate
and he still cares
if you want to know why...
really...just what it is?
let me tell you
get this..
i sucked his mental dick,
i swallowed his thoughts of me
then,
gave him a soul kiss
letting him taste his preconceived ideas of me
off my lips
and in that moment,
he said,
this
chick
IS...IT!
he felt snug
sitting up against my soul
and in that moment,
he felt whole
deeply into my heart's mouth,
i took him
as his love's tank filled to the brim
and with me
he felt free
...so,
when i walked away
my sensuous sway fading fast...
his heart broke
more than he can ever get past
so don't dare to presume,
that you know what we had
you'll never truly know
so just rest your mind on this
don't ever wonder
that it's me he'll always miss...