Peacock Feathers
From her lips, anguish spewed
like a witch’s window skewed
Hurricanes of self pity storms
Anchors of the loveless mourned
Eden justified with words then spoken
Taking up arms, to mend the broken.
The potent omens
the yet sung dirge
balked faith healers
faithful purge.
http://www.monzeeki.com/
New York, New York
Photographer
Monzeeki
Just for today,
I will honor the knees at which I kneel
Taking preservation in wisdom dripped
From oceans of tears and millions of stars.
Just for today,
I will offer my actions without expectation
To those who suffer poverty in all ways
In their bodies, in their actions, in their spirits.
Just for today,
I will be grateful as I prepare my meals
Mindful of the preparation in my hands
Filling plates with sustenance, love, laughter.
Just for today,
I will hold a my tongue from anger
Keeping tolerance at the forefront of my mind
Defending against injustice with a considered heart.
Just for today,
I will hold the brothers and sisters of my spirit tribe
With compassion and kindness in the Light
That guides us to one another in graceful exchange.
Yule 2008
I know that you love me.
I feel it on my skin, in my skin, like my skin
In my spirit, through my spirit, with my spirit;
Snaking its way through my body
Like my breath and blood.
Unashamed to explore the recesses of my reflections
Sorting through my sacred spaces like a wild child on a spending spree.
Moving forward even when encouraged strongly to turn back!
Turn back and don’t look at that pile of filth, of lies, of dastardly deeds
Stacked in the furthest corners that I disguise with masks,
Masks that vulgar people disregard with acceptance.
You refuse my please with tenderness and compassion.
You gently pull back the world I keep hidden beneath my bravado.
You don’t cringe.
You don’t run.
You just coax me from beneath my veil,
Encouraging me to seek the day with a new, braver face.
That which is my own, truly my own.
Because of this trust you’ve established with me
In an agreement of lifelong complexity,
I comply with the oxymoron of trepidational courage.
And this, my love, is how I know without a doubt that you love me.
A poem for Indi and Diane
I heard you crying
There are no words for their deepened grief that can make it any less.
There are no words for their bereavement that can make end time regress.
They understand that their valediction can bring the nethermost sadness.
The tenderest of beings and the sweetest of souls, finds rare solace.
They do it anyway because the honor of the hard won trust
moves gently around their spirits like precious diamond dust
They give their love with wild abandon from one soul to another
with unwavering faith and elation, like a good child to their mother.
The tenderest of beings, the sweetest of souls, find rare solace;
steadfast between these kindred hearts this their solemn promise
Until the last star vanishes, until the sun goes dark,
there will always be a place, within each others hearts.
When the words of “I love you” were presumed
They lingered in the air like her patchouli perfume
With years of devotionals abloom
Decorating my hearts scarred womb
Our reverent spirits dancing under the moon
With eons of deep secrets written in the runes
Shared like naked offerings between the sister souls
Bonded by supporting hearts, one to another enrolls
Together We Pray
With uncomfortable self-proclaimed oddness
Brought together by a mutual willingness to share
Our hands in accommodating service to others
Building faith in unison like reciting The Lord’s Prayer
She with her beliefs in Jesus and in God
Me with my beliefs, an eclectic mixture of odd
But somehow we see each other with our many flaws
Forgiving each other’s awkwardness, overlooking social faux pas.
Although we are but humans, our spirits intertwine
With whispered prayers for one another, based in the Divine.
The Aurora Borealis promenade the northern skies
The wisdom of your lifetime animates and implies
Coaxing your stellar erudition in your voice alone
Embracing with the emotional blessing of Shalom.
Compassionate communication are not just words to you
Bringing galaxies of practicality, a gift to others imbued
They are words that you exemplify in your actions kind
A serenity of spirit, a pastoral state of mind.
My son and I line up at the counter
Draining blood from the coffee maker
Refilling our need for bonding
At our morning communion ritual
Not offered by a priest but by Folgers.
We settle at the dining table
Scrolling through my Facebook feed
For videos to spark heat into our spirits
Blaze them up with conversations
That can’t be repeated in public.
I don’t like the days when
It is just me standing in line
Waiting for the “good days”
Where the shame or guilt of bad decisions
Don’t hang like piñatas waiting
Waiting for us to strike the first blow
Raining the inner conflicts into our laps
Tarnished with expectations of perfection
Waiting for us to strike the first blow
Against one another with words
As bitter as the coffee we cream in avoidance
Of the redeeming absolution we could
But don’t usually offer to one another.
Wild Woman Goddess
I remember the day you were born in my heart.
I was ignorant that I would fall in love with you so completely.
I could never have guessed that the iridescence
You displayed would seep into my bones
Leaving me breathless with passion for life.
But there you were.
Clothing barely covering the privacy required
Golden skin flaring sunlight under the spotlight
Of the darkened room filled with soon to be worshipers
Your smile the Goddess’ blessing glimmering
Love on those who cat-called for your attention
As you walked, no, strutted into your skin
I witnessed something that makes me weep
Even now.
I watched you become;
as the fears, doubts, and self-deprecation
Fell to the catwalk in murky ribbons.
And there you were. All of you.
Without reasonable excuse or denial
You became an integral part of my personal journey
The personification of a Human Goddess
I remember the day you were born in my heart
It’s one of my favorite memories.
Linda Looney’s birthday friend.
Each day that her phone rings
And every time she answers
A sliver of her mundane shows
In the music of her laughter.
There are so many fancy words
That could show you who she is
But they are shallow compared to her
Yet deeper than an abyss.
I could lift her up in glory
Extolling virtue and blessing
You’d believe me because I told you
But there’s so much you’d be missing.
Because my Mom is lovely,
She’s neither devil nor a saint
But she’s everything I long to be
And lots of things I ain’t.
I will tell you this much
A truth deeper than the sea
I love my perfectly human Mama
And I know that she loves me.
Happy birthday to my beloved mother. You’re Fezzes and bow ties to me.
An Independent Nondiscriminatory Platform With No Religious, Political, Financial, or Social Affiliations - FOUNDED 2014
Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.
Hosanna High Community Burial Project
True wealth is the wealth of the soul
Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.
Life as an American poet of excellence
Musings and books from a grunty overthinker
Love Letters to the Tar Pit
Making Space for Dreams
binge thinking and other things in life
Mare Martell 