Pixie – Poetry W/Audio
It was a demon!
A CURSE FROM THE BEGINNING
BECAUSE ADAM WAS AFRAID TO TAKE THE LEAD
AND GOT EVE TO DO HIS DIRTY DEED
Sent to terrorize this empty room
She hates me and berates me
At least that’s what I presume
***
I’ve even given this thing a name this thing is cwwwazzy and dramatic she’s
become impossible to restrain
***
She has her own personality
Her name is Pixie
And sadly she’s part of my reality
***
Their like monsters that dance around in strange little groups
Dropping coal mines on my womb
Marching fiercely like military troops
***
In my mind strange things happen and I am forced to assume
As Pixie dances harder
Between my bloody womb
***
In five days she’ll be gone
And I’ll be left cleaning up her mess
Because I’m normally prompted to be mean and nasty
Under Pixie’s cramped up stress
***
When its all over I will give my belly some much needed rest
Trying desperately to hide next month
From Pixie’s curse called
PMS
Occupational Hazard – Random Thoughts
Sometimes I take myself to that sad place intentionally for the sake of the writer in me
Then I have to shake the heaviness I feel after I’ve created something broken and beautiful
Sometimes the sadness lingers with me for days and won’t let me go
The energy is strong from music
Experiences and other people trauma
I call it an occupational hazard
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Soul Ties – 2013 June
Bondage
He is
Dead in my womb
Bruised spirit
Other men can hear it
Trying hard to sear it
I-am-bonded-to-you
I can feel the disgrace
Painted on my face
Calvin Klein suite case
In-my-soul
And so
I must!
Pray to something way far
Up in the sky
To help me
Break
This soul tie
Light lily’s breeze through his buildings
Turning his mouth cotton candy
Was a moon to me that exhaled my essence?
With laughter
From embarrassment
Or
From an hour glass
Timeless image
Faded photograph
That blew butterflies thru my frame
And sat me on pipes thrusting pulsed between my brains
Not even the roughest twister
Can tame
His hurricane
That paints
A picture
Of Her
Goodness and Mercy – Poetry
I feel there is something
Or someone who or that
Is always there
Watching over and protecting me
They are surely the perfect pair
They aren’t conflicting or argumentative
They are loving
And if you ask me
Much too fair
And even when I was angry
Their love was always there
It’s some Jesus stuff they sprinkle
When things are dark like night
And they will never leave or forsake me
No matter how tuff the fight
There is one thing I am sure of
Although my choices aren’t always right
Goodness and Mercy shall follow me
All the days of my life
Intimacy crept through our rain
It cradled every
Hurt
Hang-up
Blew life through this pain
Pieces lingered
Tried hard to remain
We withdrew from every
Dead kiss
Tried hard to sustain
We day-dreamed into bliss
Until only intimacy exists
It melted into us
Like candle wax
And saturated the deepest wounds
Mending even
The most broken crack
We were
Shielded
By Intimacy
HAPPY (POETRY)
Happy is not a place but an atmosphere
I was in a dead zone
And no amount of encouragement could convince me
That
I wasn’t alone
There was a moan in my soul
And every emotion in me was cold
And my thoughts lied to me
So I did nothing
One day I woke up
And the pain subsided
And joy overrides
This dark emotion
And for a brief second
I was happy
Evil Green – Poetry
Huntsmen search this thing out
Looking for the pot of gold
We have been warned
From biblical times
This story is centuries old
***
Try as you may
To hunt this thing down
And watch evil events unfold
Don’t ignore
The evil this green can bring
It’s a trick that’s ancient and cold
***
It’s a spirit
You can’t see it or hear it
It wants you trapped in your personal greed
God said be anxious for nothing
He said He will provide all that we need
***
It will trap you
Before you trap it
So don’t be fooled by this scheme
It will keep you sick
Weary and tired
Chasing an American dream
***
If you look back on all who hunt it
You’ll see how lonely they sit
This thing can be deceptive and mean
Be careful when you focus on it
***
Beware of this thing
Warning signs are hard to be seen
But this thing is clever and keen
It will have you believe
You’re on top of the world
I call it the evil man’s green
Sculpting – Poetry
If I could sculpt myself a tear
I’d make it audible
Allowing even the deaf to hear
***
If I could sculpt myself a tear
I’d paint it purple
Signifying royalty
And make all the blue disappear
***
If I could sculpt myself a tear
I’d relinquish loneliness
And mix this liquid with a prayer
***
If I could sculpt myself a tear
I’d give it an automatic reset
So that it would never be in need of repair
***
If I could sculpt myself a tear
I would never create it
Cold
And salty
Like
This wicked world
mentalnotes1 