Waiting It Out

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This miasma, foul air
Vapor from the shameless exhales of chatter
Pollute my lungs with every patient breath
Leaving a residential tar more cloying
Than this cigarette, or any other
Crutch I have leaned upon

In these eyes lurk a feral glow of savagery
Are you so blind that you would smooth my jagged shape with polish
Because I’m blurry about the edges, and ill-defined?

Do you think adjusting your gaze intently
Will alter the reality of my flesh and bone?

I will meet you here naked in the golden light of dawn
Bare, shameless in my possession of flesh
This moment is mine, immersed in solitude
Yet no walls defend my gratifying silence

I would welcome the song of two heart beats dancing
While this rain whispers “yes” to every denial
Opposing each fear you unwittingly buried
Or uttered with shame in that silence you covet

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Reflection

The smile that is reflected in the mirror has a twist, an unintentional smirk
At the irony of life, how our light
Is found on the darkest inner pathways we walk

To be honest with yourself is a monumental effort requiring bravery
Facing your demons with nothing to arm yourself with but a sharp wit and steel spine
Perhaps that is what makes you… Or breaks you

We all slip on our assent up the mountains within us
To persevere or to surrender is one of the few choices we possess
In this world revolving, spinning madly in a void
Of space we maintain around the orbits of others

When We were Stars

Sometimes I think it would be easier if we could be alone, but alas, we are an animal that craves the comfort of its own kind. Because of this, we are constantly giving up small pieces of ourselves, and filling those empty spaces with the pieces of another. Constantly compromising ourselves for the company of others who, despite their love, are cloying and ignorant of the stars behind your eyes.

So you attempt to bank your inner fire so you don’t burn others, but in loosing the flame you have lost the heat. Desperately you reach for the warmth of another, even as your heart craves the solace of mountains.

Struggling to maintain a balance between empathy and entropy, you age slowly in the privacy of your pages, recalling the nights when you shone fiercely in the darkness, burning with prose, and others made wishes upon your light.

No More Sad Songs

A breath…
The first breath, in a truly virgin body
Painful and harsh
As an infant, who, until this moment
Took only viscous fluid into their lungs

To be…
To inhale oxygen given by the trees
Reciprocating my carbon dioxide
And in this way feeling content
In my placement of Things

This chatter…
Incessantly prodding, pounding
Seeking to drown my inner dialog
With the need for whiter whites-
Be damned

The soil is strong
Verdant with decay
Feeding epiphany
Where those sleeping seeds
Sing songs I have forgotten…

Though I’m learning to remember

#me too

My response to the movement happening. I’m not on twitter or Facebook or any other media outlet other than this blog so… this is what I have to offer

Not a sob story but a reminder that woman have been fighting this quietly for a long while, and Ani just… says things honestly

So here

Journal/poetry entry 12/16/17

 

The cold brings me back, as it bites my bones

To those aching hours spent alone

When the brush of my pen was the only sound

In pages that whispered on frozen ground

Immutable mountains looked down without remorse

A river cut stone in Her sinuous course

And beside her I ran, where a pathway cut clean

Sharpened  my edges, and made myself lean

Hard enough, to stand firmly with ease

Yet soft enough, for my prose to appease

 

A poet disembodied from the roots of her craft

Must make of circumstance a feasible raft

Constructed from metaphor, closer to any truth

Than all the bald faced lie of youth

 

Night winds blow through my shallow layers

A solitary moon receives my prayers

This moment is made to reflect, refract

That ambiguous line between TRUTH and fact

It has been too long, my arrival here

This seat, this home, this blessed year

 

I give you now my friendly eye

This blackened thought, this starry sky

Sit here with me as it grows far too late

Let us ramble… pontificate

It is the time when REAL is relative

To what you are willing, or unwilling to give

What do you stand for, as you stand beneath these stars

Can you sculpt something beautiful from the passage of scars

Or are you a detriment to my current of flow

Have you no mind that seeks the puzzle of prose?

 

In this moment I am shifting, evolving as it were

I make no apologies, I’m not a caged bird

A thought flies now to the roots of the matter

Where shaky insights inevitably shatter

Why always the moment unspoken, un-captured

That holds the ever present rapture?

I try in vain, to convey this wind

How it stirs the plants, the trees, my skin

How cold cuts sharply into my wit

Revolves around the chair I sit

Spinning these words, these thoughts to you

And in this moment the current is true

So I thank you dearly for tossing with me

In choppy currents as I find the sea

As every river does, in its eventual course

With gentle persistence, and awesome force