Inspired by Feed The Feesh
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Tag Archives: poem
Gaia, a tribute
Fertile is her breath and blood
To shower the world’s full girth
With lusty creations bursting forth
To populate her earth
She blooms and blossoms, swollen up
To share new life through birth
We belong beneath the laughing light
Of her full figured mirth
She rules the night, on the moon she rides
As sure as change and flooding tides
The heavens obey her slightest command
Maelstrom storms as she demands
With strength and ferocity she stands her keep
At day she rests but doesn’t sleep
Shout prayers of joy surrounding her
As swollen as she stands
Upon the past and future time
Through the hourglass of sands.
Pass it onward!
The Blue Screen of Life
I’m resting my face in the comfortable bluish white glow of my laptop
Staring at the screen as my friends parade by with a wild array of emotions.
I see a link one has posted and I click to see what interests them
The pictures move me to wellies, but that’s not the only reason I weep.
You see, I’m grateful in my heart and spirit for so many things
That I can’t contain the joy, the peace, the beauty that is my soul song.
The band of merry-makers parades down my cheeks in a wild array of emotions
Displaying colors and words of excitement, glee, hope, and cherished gratitude.
I can carry my banner with the honor to my mother and dad whom I love dearly.
I can tip my top hat in celebration of those beautiful souls that orbit their light
With belief that the Universe knows, heeds, and believes back.
I wipe the tears away but my heart is so full, I keep leaking happies and joy.
If you hold out your hand and take mine. If you trust yourself to believe,
I can entrust a part of me to you and you to me that together we’ll go far as can be
And then we’ll jump even farther, travel the world of possibilities, explore new lands
Oh the stories of love and adventure we’ll bring home from the farthest reaches.
Which will only encourage others to parade around with their own banners
Declaring openly their wide array of emotions all born from the nurturing love of an idea.
Pass it onward!
To Honor Kali
The Goddess Kali-ma
I hear her voice as twinkling smooth as wine
Her lips sparkling words like silver sweet
Precious in their divine
Guiding hands to keep me warm with a caresses gentle bliss
Heated breath of her lover’s mouth emblazoned with her kiss
I walk with her on star-lit roads
I hear her sigh the night
I hear a tiny cricket’s call
The wisp of an owl in flight
I smell the scent of impending rain
The trickle of a nearby stream
The blush of moon blessed breezes
Floating through my dreams
Intimate imaginings spring forth in passions song
Spooned soft against my lover’s thigh
Eternal night prolonged
Pressed tight with lust to feed at her breast
I feel the release of my birth
I respond to her smoldering touch
I’m embraced within her earth
Pass it onward!
That was that
This and many other really funny shirts can be found at: http://amorphia-apparel.com/
When I was little, I just wanted to be something.
I wanted to be a firefighter like my Grandfather.
I wanted to be a doctor like my cousin.
I wanted to be successful with money in my pocket
and a home to return to at the end of the day.
But then the abuse happened.
I couldn’t see myself anymore doing anything
because the pain was just too much.
I found I could get temporary relief,
very temporary,
if I just took one more hit from the pipe.
The only thing I wanted to do was run.
I wanted to run as far away as I could
from myself.
But then I ran too far and I couldn’t come back.
When I was little, I only wanted to be loved.
I can’t even be that any more.
It was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it.
But it happened and I can’t come back any more.
If I could tell you one thing,
I’d tell you to love yourself before it’s too late.
I couldn’t. You can.
The picture used belongs to http://amorphia-apparel.com/
Pass it onward!
Alchemy of Death
Solemnity spoke
I mailed a package off to the Spirits,
after staring at death with mournful eyes.
Gravely I dug into the hard earth
Return to Sender stamped in neat letters
on the cardboard coffin holding,
protectively, its morbid contents.
I checked to see if perhaps,
maybe,
I was mistaken.
Suppose that the heart still beat,
the breath still attended life,
the soft mewls of a hungry stomach.
I wasn’t wrong.
I wasn’t anything but lost
in the harsh tears following death’s
cool touch.
Dirt reset to conceal my pain,
I wondered how much postage
it would take to have the tiny package
returned to life once again.
Pass it onward!
Brushed Out
Clumps of dirt, dust, and debris rotted my brains
whenever I tried to speak to passers by
I’d hold my beggar’s cup earnestly pushing
for loose change to fall chiming into the depths
speaking foul breathed words of backwards intent
Clumps of zombie flesh fell from my body
repulsing potential friends, disgusting possible employers
until
I blinked my eyes to dream and you coalesced
pristine
extraordinary
You made strange sense of my chaos, spoke to me
with careful brush strokes through my tangled words
Ever so gently you tugged at my self-loathing,
conditioned my confidence,
curled my toes with affection,
showered me with the truth through your actions
as you loved my pieces back together.
With frightened squalling wails of labor,
forsaking all others
I was born into redemption with your hand embracing mine
the day I agreed with you that I am worthy of love
Pass it onward!
These Are My People: Jamie Lopez and JuJu
https://www.facebook.com/artistjamielopez/timeline
Jamie Lopez is a prolific painter with a distinctive style and color palette. Her innovative exuberance melts happiness into every brush/pen stroke. THIS ONE IS SOLD!
She lives in self-inflicted padded walls
Created with cotton balls,
Elmer’s glue, squished on fun
By her autistic son
She schools him on the finer points of life while
She’s splashing in the shallow end
Of the dating pool
Yelling,
“MARCO!” in the language of JuJu.
The responses are comical if not misplaced
By distorted males riding by on penny pony floaties
They shout “CABBAGE!” or “BOK CHOY!” or “PETUNIA!”
From the deep end where she already dipped her mug
Into the drunken pissy beer and found the taste repugnant.
She rejects the self-proclaimed wise men and gurus
Whom are no more effective than arm-chair quarterbacks.
Instead she paints herself a wisdom
Of spiraling owls and feminine curly tailed girls
That return prosperity in accordance to her schoolgirl happy.
When she looks at her beloved son, she realizes,
She is his Sherlock, he, her Watson.
Where she is prismatic and lively
He is repetitive and monochromatic
But they take out the crayons together one by one
Exploring every color of the world as a dynamic duo
Some days, when she’s a grounded bird and doesn’t want to fly
Juju nurtures her with yesterday’s worms and reminds her to seek the sky.
Pass it onward!
Moving Day
My arms are full of boxes heavy with my heartfelt memories.
I look at the darkened windows that feel like a medical flat line
The front porch light that once greeted my arrival is turned off.
The driveway where my children created Michelangelo is barren
The study window from which I witnessed the drama of “Oak Tree Living”
Looks nakedly back at me without holding the allure it once did.
I turn my back to face a new adventure brought to me by U-Haul.
With teary resolution and no tag-backs, I whisper to the sunrise,
“Goodbye my lovely haven. Good day my place of rest.
Whomever crosses your threshold, may they be ever blessed.”
Pass it onward!
These Are My People: The Newlywed Waskey’s, Eva and Rich
A Wedding Poem:
If you’re lucky like the Waskey’s
And I hope that you are
May you know as much love as they do
Which numbers boundless like the stars.
If you’re lucky like the Waskey’s
And I know that it’s true
May you know much joy as they do
Which is as much as every drop of morning dew
If you’re lucky like the Waskey’s
And I hope you are, my dears
May you know laughter as they do
Which will fill centuries of years
If you’re lucky like the Waskey’s
And I write this for posterity
May your life be abundant with adventure
And filled like theirs with prosperity.
Mare Martell 
