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
The Parole Board – Case Study #3
The clink-clink noise of the cell is deafening!
I have gotten used to it after 5 years, 60 months, 1826.25 days, 2,628,000 minutes, I’m going to change my life this time.
I know I’ve said this to you God the last time and the other time and the time before that.
I’m going to do everything it takes to stay free!
My name is Noah Ortega I’m a 53 year old Hispanic male, I’m a 3-time felon and this time I’ve been convicted of burglary.
I suspect when my mother named me Noah she didn’t predict I would become a crack head felon.
My cell opens and it’s the CO coming to get me to face the parole board.
I hold my hands out through the bars for him to handcuff me like the animal they think I am, maybe I am an animal.
They open the cell and hand cuff my ankles too, because an animal can’t be trusted.
I shuffle down the long cement floor, I’ve mastered this walk.
I walk into a large room with 6 agents sitting at a long table with one chair in front of them.
I sit.
I analyze them to see what my chances are.
Four men, one African American, one Hispanic and two Caucasian men.
There are two women who are Caucasian, I’m really doomed!
I do my assessment of them.
They don’t waste any time, they ask me, Mr. Ortega are you guilty?
Have you been rehabilitated?
Yes, you dumb fuck!
Is what my brain says but as gently as I can I say, I am and I feel terrible about the crimes I’ve committed and I’m ready to start fresh, this time away has rehabilitated me.
That’s what they want to hear, that I’ve been rehabilitated.
I said what I had to say and was shuffled out as I walked step by step trying not to fall with the limited space the chains give me at my ankles.
I had to admit to the parole board that my burglary days were over and they are.
No more smoking crack!
45 days later, I walk out the jail.
The gates look huge as they slowly open.
My journey starts and I feel hopeful.
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
✍️❤️✍️
https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/87248275/posts/3486#comment-6334
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
http://soundcloud.com/mentalnotes-1/if-i-could-be-anything-id-be-a
If I could be anything
I’d be a bird
I would chirp myself a love song
And anyone else who needed a tune
To heal our broken wing
I’d leave behind the world of words
That maliciously left me
If I could be anything
I’d be a bird
I’d chirp myself a new reality
And leave behind this human mentality
If I can be anything I’d be a bird
And at last
I’d be
FREE
Excerpt: Beyond the dry grass By Seanbidd ( Feature Poet)
The music’s still playing as her feet walk out to the sea,
At the fringe of a life time, as her lips whisper to the breeze,
Does the world turn this calm, or’s it the slow rush of the sea,
Follow me out here, followme deep
mentalnotes1 