poem #4: no o'clock in the morn

the 3 o'clock hour
strikes
and hits real hard
i
just
cant
sleep
out of my mind
out of my body
experiencing
tears torn in my astral fabric
of repetitive dreams
cycling underwater
backstroking through clouds
ass backwards
feelings so real
that i awake
tears like flowing milk
without my honey
no o'clock
in the morning
eyes wide
seeing nothing
except
the lonely...
except
the void...
except
me...
here
to travel
through mental states
searching for a place
to live without you
i
cant...
i only pray
that every day
gets me closer
to closure
nearer
to understanding
further
from the frustrating
flustering
fucking
pain
i beg
for sleep
in the wake of you
i crave
to never yearn
never long
never need
never...
fucking...
care...
that you're gone
somewhere
not caring
about me
the 4 o'clock hour
hits
and i'm still here
waiting
for time
to fast forward
just so
i can sleep

© 2008Kween Kiwi 

no words

I wrote this today in an email to one of my SiStars who seemed to be having a hard time. I had JUST reported to another friend how I'd been virtually uninspired for over 3mos...and needed to get back on. For this poem to unfold so spontaneously and bring understanding to someone in emotional need...was just perfection.




silence from you lover, 
is like obscenities yelled evilly at my ear
the harsh winds
of your bated breath
from stifled words
cause blemish
to my sensibilities
resistance,
to extend your soul out to me
is like a short hit to my heart
i seize in shock
and fall from hurt feelings
fall from the foundation
no longer holding me up
if you spoke
thunk of the simplest insult
even an exhausted sigh,
i might
not feel like...
our love has died
i might
not feel like
this is bye
if your mouth
parted,
with space for words to wander
over the fullness of your lips
that i love to kiss
and touch the tip
of your tongue
that i long to suck
that it just might not suck
that you're silenced...
oh, love...
how i wish you'd
cuss me
fuss me
touch me with
disgust for me
rather than cringe
and recoil
from the sight of me
the idea
that maybe,
you love me more
than this silence you've
pledged yourself to...
my ears are
ringing
with the shit i'd
rather
you say
than the closing of your heart
or the shortness of your compassion
or the limited concern for my cry...
i,
feel like,
why?
what have i done,
SO badly...
what crime have i
committed
other than kneeling in submission
to the love that beckons praising
with my adoration
adulation
and hips' gyrations...
what have i done
other than
nod yes
when my ego and pride
yelled no
and lay bare
when my "self"
warned me to don layers
for my preservation
is that my crime?
or is my crime...
milking the man in you
that would rather roam
and giving you thoughts
of one home
procuring for you
asylum from the things
that cause you to mask your
true heart
it's desires
the fears
and failures...
[sigh]
love...
your silence
has brought me to
this soliloquy of
frustrated and flurried
thoughts
all because
rather than speak your
pain
you inflict silence onto
mine...
and it hurts.

love run afoul

scented pain
curiously reminiscent of burnt love
my senses
bullied by
bitters
jolting me out of a nod
you evade me
your anger the only reminder
fiery like your denial
scented like cheap corner incense


sometimes,
it smells like charred hopes
mixed with floral memories
the insane mix
of desire
and despair
cloaked in the citrus notes
of orange-infused funk
dipped in acidic promises
...it causes my nose to burn
bringing droplets stained
with blackened emotions
and rotted numbness


on random nights
i awake to a smoky air of anxiety
haunting  me with the choking odor
of rejection stinking a lot like garbaged smiles
and wasted joy
sheets soiled with cold sweat
pillows unclean from stifled cries
i can smell your indifference
and it makes me gag
audibly
i'm sickened by the aromas of
bloody lies
filthy motivations
putrid tendencies
of numerous possessions
of numerous skirts
...desperation,
the foulest of stenches
wafting through distance
and plugging my nostrils
with hate-filled odor...


this pain...
embedded deeply within my fiber
renders the smell
of blooming onions
sun-dried and shriveled
steamed in rays of heated passion
unattended
abandoned for greener pastures...


the scent of pain...smells like you.

butterfly love

you're gone
AGAIN...
stepping back into the shadows
melting into the scenery
only YOU have done this
gotten used to...
moving in and out of my life
settling in deep
burrowing underneath my pain
to unearth my passions
and then killing yourself
to break free
in the beginning...
you sweetly placed a kaleidoscope of butterflies
through my navel
and into my belly
them...responsive
to you...
your voice...
your laugh...
your energy's caress
you created this place
for your effect on me
and i didn't want to let it go...
~sigh~
once
and then again...
you left
and they followed
taking the breath from me
as they burst through
simply obedient to their creator...
where'd you place them?
whose being flutters to your charms?
who is living off the residue of my love for you?
whose heart has wings i wore before?
NOW...[damn you]
my belly is empty...
i'm hungry...
yet, not sated by physical sustenance
or any other
my core is,
left rumbling by flirtations
and invitations
and attempted subjugations
from others trying to own my love
but it is you...
and what is most disturbing
is that you
aren't...and was ever
meant to stay
your fly by night love
with it's stay for ever feel...
was always meant to go
you only know how to lay the love down
you have no clue
how to keep the love anchored
thank you, though...
it felt like heaven
but it's gone...
AGAIN...
bye butterfly love

no poem

I don't have a poem...


This isn't poetry...this is "heart stuff" and I figured...since this blog is entitled "Words on Wings", I have hope that these words will take flight and touch the intended.


2010 burst in with promise...shining brightly, like a new coin, it held potential for new things. I didn't toast my way into it...nor did I party or watch a crystalline sphere drop while shaking from record cold. Nope...I stayed my hiney home.  I said that this year would be about ME. That I'd not selfishly...but with self-preservation...give myself this year to do what was best for me. To show others how it was to be done...


Woe to the fool who dares to pen a plan in God's day planner. My penciled strokes were stricken through. God's chuckle, could be heard in reverberations within me as I was scolded with a gentle patting on the head. It's akin to a parent shaking their head while watching their child attempt a feat foolishly.


My year began with an attempt to loosen the hold of a love. My newborn year had been spanked and cries were bellowed, but I caught my breath. (not for long) 


Through that, I began to wonder at how I'd make it without my friend...but it was taking it's toll. Then...the loss of three friends. No...no one died...but friendships ended in an abrupt smack. Misunderstandings allowed to fester into prideful stances of nonsense. When I thought it couldn't get any worse...


Josephine Gunn...my father's mother...my lovely grand-kween...left me. 


At 81...her body gave way to exhaustion and with as much unselfishness as I could muster...I said, bye. My heart didn't break...it melted. Imagine if your heart actually DID indeed dissolve instantly. Your body would seize most likely, and you'd drop like sandbags. I didn't drop...but, i felt like I could. The only thing that kept me from truly breaking down...was worrying for my dad's emotional state. Waiting for him to lose it...or just cry...was enough to make me stress myself into sleepless nights. I have great friends...regardless of the ones that willingly walked off. I had people come and support me and show me that love doesn't need to be in your face daily...just wrapped around you timely.


Yet...I ended up reaching out to the love I'd tried to let go...and he responded. He's definitely been a help to me...that I cannot deny. There are people, who in spite of locale or life circumstance...just bring peace to your spirit...


Yet, what is weighing on us...is a stillness of intentions. That is all I will say on that.


Well...if it wasn't enough to be in longing for closure and/or consummation...life again brandished the finiteness of time. A sista-friend, Tracey...lost her husband, Darryl yesterday morning in a motorcycle accident. At the news of this loss...I burst into tears. Everything, sitting so close to the surface of an already swelling pool of emotion...overflowed. I keep shaking my head "no". No to this tragedy. No to the fact that Tracey and her husband hadn't been married for even 6 months. No to the fact that she's quite possibly inconsolable. No to how unfair it is for a couple making it work to have time snatched away...and for those squandering time to be given it in surplus. No to it all.


~sigh~


Yet, I know it is not mine to understand. It isn't my plan to execute. It isn't my place to question. I'm human though, so that means this pain goes over my crown of understanding. So, I leave this prayer:






I pray, Lord...that You wrap Tracey into an embrace of comfort and consolation. That You bring peace to her spirit and give her as much love and support as she needs. I ask, Lord that You give her the ability to receive all of the prayers and positive thoughts sent her way allowing for a strengthening in this time...and bless her with the knowledge that she IS loved and cared for.


I love you, Tracey. Rest in peace Darryl...

Amen