The Poetry Marathon

Sisters

family

three fold

strength in numbers

longevity

history

One mother strong

generations run deep

Orishans in our heritage

lineage

~ism

Sleep deprivation

comes easy

when you

sleep on a concrete mattress

and pillows made of dirt and grass

Comfort levels tend to hide

when the streets become your bed

privacy has no space

when you forget the last place

you laid to rest.

~ism

What if my vagina became a lotus flower and the earth was the pedal’s stool at my feet what if I gave you my soul to devour and each word you spat I could not even speak
Spoken in languages only stars could conceive celestial bodies only galaxies could see
Buried treasures only cosmic pirates could find and seek
The universe as my playground with moons,stars and planets at my reach
To move as I please and change how I see fit
Milky ways and belts that stretch dimensions black holes of dark matter to capture any shooting stars blink
I would rest upon my infinite seat and make worlds; first time spans and critique beings of design, unique patterns; blue prints even of Gods from Majestic places
Blending a high priestess’ pot with dashes of star dust moon rock and sun’s brew. an inevitable elixir of devine wisdom’s cure. Balance of wings only made for Ascension
Sight of eyes only made to lead

~ism

My soul wounded…
heart is scarred…
Love has been taken for granted…
My feeling gone…
ground broken…
My kingdom infiltrated…
Leaving my king throne-less…
All pawns removed
I’m out in the open…
Uncovered, undone, unwanted…
No knights saving me…
No round table for the sake of me…
Enemies all around me…
Takers and breakers rob me…
Sidebar me…stay at bay like true cowards do…
Who’s to say what you are…
Insecurity on the rise…but I will never compromise…
The walls of my temple have been desecrated leaving me in ruins of dilapidated fortresses
Darkness is upon me and all matter sits still
Guilt subsides and waits for my wrath
No judgement from tongues
Only swift benevolence to pierce egos
My universe
This lifetime
Your words
Our bonds
Tight grips
More pain
See I don’t tell stories or sing sweet haikus
I say spells with life’s words that I spell
Simply because words matter
Put some respect on that sentence when you talk to me.

A woman’s womb is the source of all healing
Not just for whom she creates but also for herself

That’s why it’s so much going on in the world. Mother Earth is in need and a woman’s womb is the answer
A source to heal
Create
Protect
Love
Peace

~ism

the feel of coral colored rose petals

Upon the soles of feet

the smell of lavender on skin

Silkiness of jojoba oil in hair

henna adorned hands

essence of silver

garments of fine threads

Royalty Remembered

chosen

to be the one

to bring change

to break the chains

to right the wrongs

create rites of passage

to the darkness

To remove what does not belong

to build what has been torn down

to fix what is broken

and claim what has been taken

lost

destroyed

desecrated

to protect, lead and guide

i am the truth, the way and the light made from the darkness

I am that I am

behold me and know that

i am here

In this thing

like flint

Doing me

like she did last week

putting in work

cant stop me now

in search of her next meal

she pan handles her way through the streets

asking for change

pennies off the ground

nickels, quarters, dimes

pan handling is her life’s domain

she approaches my car

at first glance is my rejection

as she disembarks from my path

i drive away

my consciousness rules me and I surrender

i circle the block

reach inside my car’s console

and become a part of her hunt for treasure

like a scavenger I find 3 quarters

2 dimes and a nickel

i dare not insult her with pennies

as she reaches inside to take what I have given

her nails graze the palm of my hand ever so slightly

“you got any dollars, baby?” “i’m just trying to buy a hotdog.”

~ism

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work is in session with noise all around me

distractions

in session

discomfort

in session

anxiety

in session

doubt

in session

awkward feelings

in session

4 hours in

3 minutes till its time again

pushing forward

anticipation of that midnight burn

work

in session

~ism