Thursday, July 21, 2011

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

Saturday, July 16, 2011

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...

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

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!


Monday, July 11, 2011

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...

in the butterfly net...

i ink...i flow...i pen,
my soul, my words, my zen