Honest Word

•May 13, 2018 • Leave a Comment

My child
is not
the “best thing
I have ever done”
He
is
not
finished
nor am I
and to declare that as fact
is a sappy fairytale
an empty delusion
at best
And
a reduction of me
and my highest possible form
of usefulness
to
sex object
receptacle
uterus
vessel
vagina
at worst
I will not do that
to either of us

-me

imagePainting: Motherhood By Veronica Jackson

A repost for this Mother’s Day.

Want

•May 11, 2018 • Leave a Comment

I am want of late
to eviscerate or Be
eviscerated

-me

Cranky-Pants

•May 11, 2018 • Leave a Comment

This morning I picked up my cranky pants,

And put them on before I had a chance.

My brain was quite blurry,

In my morning hurry,

My only choice now, do the cranky-pants dance.

-me

BF29FD6E-BD2A-4423-A725-D65569CA5F5F

This is a repost from 6 years ago, can you believe it? But I was inspired thinking about Dr. Seuss today and I remembered this old post. It’s not sophisticated, and yet…

Need

•May 5, 2018 • Leave a Comment

Lately
My naked feet
Need contact
Is it spring
Or something else
Afoot
Elusive Real
A drive that seeps
Outside from in
My soft skin
Layers peeling
After this past winter’s
Dense protection
Revealing
Seeking sensitivity
That drives again
My soles
To go forth
To bare themselves
To leap
Lightly
Deliberately
Delightfully exposed
Connecting to all
Manner
Of manmade heat
Concrete
And coolness
Wildly growing
Lately
My naked feet
Need

-me

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Painting: Walking Barefoot By William Whitaker

Past Due

•May 3, 2018 • Leave a Comment

My heart thumped hard
Unwieldy inside my chest
Rapped and echoed wild against
These hardened hollow bones
Like a large crazed landlord
Demanding past due rent, or more
Desperate from the other side
Of his tenant’s deadbolt-door

-me

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Painting by Daniel Carranza

Synchronous

•April 24, 2018 • Leave a Comment

I traveled alongside
A train today
And kept its speed awhile

For a moment we both
Seemed still and so
The world went hurtling by

-me

57DD2B1F-8B15-4DDF-9FE4-312CDC5E1032
Painting by Nils Potting

Split Second

•March 16, 2018 • Leave a Comment

I was there
when the clocks
stopped ticking
standing
with the soles
of my feet
sweating
and stuck
to the cold
tile floor
my lips parched
and parted
in that silent
gasp
before a scream
my eyes
frozen wide
unblinking
and dry
my memory melting
dreams dripping
from my ears
this embodiment
done
undetectable muscles
still twitching
some
I was there
a split second
aware of demise
that unwinding
of mine
with the ending
time

-me

IMG_4365

Painting: Aghast by Troy Stith

 

 

 

 

 
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