Category Archives: Relationships

NaPoWriMo: Flying Out of this World

The Owl and the Jamie Lopez

I was walking through the Otherwhere, picking dreams to put in my pocket

Like a deer in the headlights I stopped frozen in my tracks for there you were.

I’d seen others before in this place I travel to, but never as intensely as that moment.

You smiled, your blue eye flashing a secret code of knowledge to my spirit

I tilted my head perplexed because I’d never tried to talk to the people I found

I usually just witnessed their activities but didn’t interrupt their travels.

But you, you blinked again, your golden eye flashing beneath sunset pink hair.

You gestured gently to pick up what you were trying to share. I couldn’t

You frowned, your sapphire hair obscuring your lemony eyes. Your heart smiled

THEN

You pulled the stitching around the edges of your heart and allowed me to dive

It was mystical and cosmic as you showed me your walking place. I wept, you smiled.

You took my hand and helped me over the threshold, panting with wildness

I could see the owl. The golden dance of blacks, oranges, browns, and wisdom

Refreshed, invigorated with passion. This time I smiled my rainbow smile at you.

Your aqua hair flashed silver fins of water splashing brightly as you disappeared

That moment was exactly when I knew, I could enter different paths. You showed me.

With permission from myself and the others I meet, I can go anywhere I need.

Only in the Otherwhere can I hear the Divine voice of creativity that calls my name intimately.

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The Eyes of Heaven

The eyes of the heavens looked into my beaten soul

With darkened lashes flashing seas of green

I was commanded to surrender to the bow

As the arrowed kiss pierced me in cosmic explosion

Birthing worlds anew with feathery curls

Desire painted the skies with lustful sunsets

Stunning the world awake with a flip of longing sunrise

Each blink of those intensely exquisite eyes

Made me worship my own demise with ecstasy.

NaPoWriMo: Fifteen TRIGGER WARNING

TRIGGER WARNING: You had no idea

By this time, I was already being taught horrible things; I was six in this picture.

By this time, I was already being taught horrible things; I was six in this picture.

I don’t think you could possibly have meant

For me to return from where I rose my ascent

I was broken, abused, nearly destroyed

All because my father didn’t want to take away my “new toy.”

I held secrets so dark that nobody could love me

Not that way, not no way, not even the slightest possibility.

At fifteen I had not recognized the horrors I’d seen

At fifteen I hadn’t even realized it was safe to breathe

Although the constant abuse had stopped a decade earlier

It didn’t take much to re-abuse me, just be a little squirrelier.

I ran around raw as if chained to a razor blade

The slightest momentum and I’d dive back into my shade

The fears that accosted me, drove me wild with anguish

It took me a quarter century, those demons to finally vanquish.

No, I don’t think you would have, if you’d known what it means

To return to the age of fragility, loss of innocence, the unclean.

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TRIGGER WARNING: Spousal abuse is no joke

The First Husband

April is Domestic Violence and Sexual Assault Awareness month (among others). I am a survivor of Domestic Violence.

April is Domestic Violence and Sexual Assault Awareness month (among others).
I am a survivor of Domestic Violence.

I felt the wash of rage strike through my stomach when I saw you there

With a ONETWO punch of viciousness, I cringed as if it were a physical blow

Violence flashed before my blackened eyes that have long since healed

I remembered in crystal clear detail the fire you created

That burned my possessions forcing me to be your possession

That charred my childhood into echoes of musical damnations

Removing the blessings my mother gave to me

On sunny afternoons in the plant room of my childhood home

And you, with lighter fluid in hand, me begging forgiveness

You tossing key upon key into the blaze despite my please, thank you.

There you were, glaring your judgement on my friend

Turning your nastiness towards someone I love

Every bit of forgiveness I thought I could give was erased

“I think you’re just being vulgar for the sake of vulgarity.”

Fuck you! You’d still have the wife you pledged to protect

If you wouldn’t have pulled her gun on her, or slapped her,

Or pushed her, or punched her, or threatened her, or raped her

Or abused her, or took her love and threw it like your smelly shoes, away.

You no longer are allowed access to me, you son of a bitch.

You are denied access to love from me or my tribe.

You are rebuked and are denied absolution from my heart because of your actions.

Lie all you want to the people in your life now, but we both know what happened.

We both know you are not the “Christian” you claim to be.

We both know what you’ve done.

The door is closed, return to your own hell.

These Are My People: Ray and Coral Juras

I was scrolling my Facebook feed and I found a picture of Coral and Ray looking into each others eyes while they danced together. When I first met them, it was in the social hall at the old church building. They didn’t attend the service but had scooted in to “hang out.” They were so warm and kind that I instantly realized they were kindred spirits with one another. They were just content as clams to be nearby. I loved them warmly then as I do now. This is a poem inspired by that picture I found but can’t yet retrieve.

I barely knew the sea, ne’er touched the heated sands beneath my feet

I didn’t know the lighthouse song or the foggy waves clashing the beach

I didn’t taste the salty air or dream of it cleansing cool against my skin

I never watched the tides roll the beach, tossing shells as the waves washed in

But then I looked into your eyes with the warm smile of the sun a beacon…

I am intimately aware of the soul of the sea with the heated sands beneath my skin

I heed the beckoning of your loving heart and with the lighthouse of your love sing along

The fogs have lifted where once it was shady, but you and your love light my way again

I embrace the kiss of the salty air in the dream where I get to be your spousal song

We’ll dance like the tides ebbing and flowing, splashing playful at the shore,

As I return again and again to you, my beautiful, the one the ocean dictates I adore

NaPoWriMo: Poetry For The Blood Flesh Bone And Spirit

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Immortal Life

The Universe beckons with unlimited views, of endless possibilities, of impossible creativity

The Milky Way skitters about like a kitten, while I chat with Orion about deniable topics

I sing a new planet to life while dancing spirals around a tangerine moon

I embrace a tree that has soft pink fur and mint green fingers that hug me back tendril-ly

My body has infinite form. It is how I discovered you searching for me at just the right moment.

Just as I am immaculate in my divinity so are you in yours, together we are creators and destroyers.

Come, let’s dive into black holes to be born again and again like an eternal slip and slide

So that we can laugh with one another in the air of different worlds,

So that we can sing in languages so ancient they’ve not been invented yet

So we can make love under waterfalls of diamonds or daisies while clouds hold us aloft

Let every trouble we’ve ever known fall desolate and lonely into the darkness

Come, let’s join as one; dividing centuries with our offspring flourishing anew each season

Let’s burn rage to the ground, wash tears from our children’s eyes, breathe death to life, and fill our footprints with the petals of flowers that sprout into massive forests of lively discussion.

Let every wonder be a present of unlimited views, endless possibilities, and impossible creativity.

NaPoWriMo: I Made This Poem

The ending lines to this poem are not on this art. Diane Crump of Wyoming, MI is the only one who has the true and intended ending of this ditty.

The ending lines to this poem are not on this art. Diane Crump of Wyoming, MI is the only one who has the true and intended ending of this ditty.

The Dandelion Dress

I want a dress made out of dandelions

And a crown made out of stars

I want shoes the color of the Milky Way

To wear to a dance on Mars

I want hair the color of rainbows

And a song as warm as the sun

Come, take my hand, my friend

Come follow me to the fun!

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The Public Execution of Walter Scott

April 4th, 2015 North Charleston, South Carolina
Weather forecast called for weather in the mid to upper 70’s,
But a new low front was ushered in under guise of hate

I checked the forecast but it said nothing of despair.
It said nothing of the wrenching guts or the tearing of the hair.
It didn’t think to warn, on the balmy day in spring,
Just how much that father would be sacrificing
Because he bought a brand new car, a Mercedes, shiny clean
But like a beacon to the racist rants it attended glaring screams
A cell phone captured video of the systematic lies
Told by Walter Scott’s murderer that watched that human die.
No remorse, no regret, just a planted Taser laid near blood
Deny what crime your hands committed, deny the hateful flood
But truth is not as fickle as the weather we predict
The rules are far less flexible, in fact, they’re rather fixed.
When will you foolish humans learn, LOVE ALWAYS WINS, not hate.
April 4th, in Memphis on a balcony, 1968

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NaPoWriMo: This Poem Is A Myth

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Philemon and Baucis

“Welcome, dear companion! You’ve come to hear the tale?

Of the truly loving mortals that stand before this temple trail?

What? You’ve never heard of Baucis and Philemon?

Climb that branch of Oak there and I will climb the Linden.

Yes, ‘tis true they are of one trunk, get comfy hear this story

For tonight I tell the tale of a humble immortal glory.”

Upon Olympus Zeus sat bored twiddling his beard,

“Hermes, my quickened friend, let’s explore some weird.”

Hermes was always eager to dip his toes in mortal world

Grabbed Zeus’ hand before his mind changed to Phrygia swirled.

“We can’t go door to door, looking like we do.”

So they dug some dirt and conjured clothes making beggars of the two.

Hundreds of doors they knocked upon with no the final refrain

Zeus was boiling with fury, Hermes with disdain.

“Do they not realize,” Said the patron God of travel.

“That when they turn away a stranger, their luck will soon unravel?”

“Apparently not, my friend,” Zeus replied. “But let’s try one more time.

For up ahead is a dilapidated hut that’s way past its prime.”

“If you say so Zeus, but you’re bound to be disappointed.

That’s certainly no place, where wealth has e’er anointed.”

Before the hand of the beggar ever came to rest on the door,

It opened up warm and widely, to a dirt, but well swept floor.

“Come in! Come in! Come join us while we feast.

It’s rare when we are visited by such company as thee.”

Baucis began feverishly to put the food together.

While Philemon worked diligently to make the visitor’s comfort better.

The old woman boiled a pot of hot water and raided meager provisions

The old couple worked the room feverishly under watchful supervision.

She prepared olives, bread and bacon, radishes and eggs

While the old man took a broken dish to fix the table leg.

They spread out the table with everything they cut loose.

They even chased until breathless both, their family pet goose!

They filled the plates with generous portions. They filled the cups with wine.

And among the love and laughter, the four people heartily dined.

With a burp and a push, the Gods revealed their true being

The old couple nodded with love at each other then to the Gods now seeing.

“What is it we can do for you, name anything you wish.”

Philemon nodded to Baucis, his eyes filled with tenderness.

“This humble cottage has always been our home, though our pockets are slenderest,

We’ve never known a moment of sorrow, never had to borrow.

We’d like to live here, if you care not, to serve you our living days

But we ask that neither one of us live alone when one passes away.”

Baucis smiled up at her husband with tears in her sweet blue eyes.

Philemon smiled back at her, then they bowed to the deities.

A beautiful temple of marble and gold sprouted where they stood.

He grew leaves while she grew leaves as they turned to wood.

“Farewell my dear companion, were their blessed lasting bliss.

You sit upon the tree they became with the final lover’s kiss.”

NaPoWriMo 040415: Sipsy

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Fried Green Tomatoes At the Whistle Stop Cafe, Fannie Flagg

I knew the love that woman had was something deep woods

It was something that was taken for granted, but everyone understood.

You do not cross that line between what is wrong and what is good

Not without the skillet in hand bouncing off that head of blood.

I knew the love that woman had was something a thief would rue

It was something everyone claimed to not know, but we already knew.

When she looked into my eyes before that blow bid Frank his adieu

I grinned and nodded approval at her, because a mother’s love is true.