Dead soldiers

They say you can’t ever be free. It’s the lyrics to a dead soldiers song. First time I ever heard them sing it was a song called “it all goes black” they saved the best for last. The grand finale was meant to be, here we are dancing free. Isn’t it ironic how we end up exactly in the perfect place at the perfect time with the perfect people? There’s the moon looking down on my sparkling dance. Music is truly the great escape. Listen to it all goes black by dead soldiers. And support live music please.

Star and Micey poem

“The floor is lava”, the band plays, la da da da, all the local artists fill the dance floor. It’s exploding with creativity. The final song from star and Micey. The view of genuine inspiration floods the girl at the concert writing this poem. The poets third time to enjoy this band live. And neither times were they planned.they say the Third time is a charm. Meant to be melodies and random adventures that lead to the views every poet longs for. Oh the gratitude of being in my hometown. A place I belong. Cheers to Memphis, TN. #901 day

Celebrating the colors of Memphis

901 day. Authentic street tacos paired with Dark gray clouds hovering flat across the burning sky. There’s something special about that deep blue against the orange. Green light to the right, red ahead, yellow headlights twinkle the streets of Memphis. A moment like this, painting a watercolor memory of bliss, lean over hunnie pie, give me a kiss.

I need a pen and paper

I am fighting to find inspiration to write a poem, I’m lost in my mind where I always roam, words being texted into the phone, does anyone have a pen they’re willing to loan?

Life shines through death

I created a work of art as a gift for my sister on her twentieth birthday. I painted 20 different candlesticks to represent each year of her life. I integrated a poem within the blank spaces. This masterpiece was a symbol of the gift of her two decades alive. One of the candles is her body. Each of her hands are the candle holders. The painting is truly the perfect gift to symbolize the celebration of life itself. I gave her the painting and read the poem aloud, she melted like one of the candles in it.  That was the last time I saw my sister. She died the next day. God I miss her. Yet her light won’t go away. At her funeral, I read the poem within the painting a second time. A poem created in honor of her life ended up being a part of her death too. We are the light. We shine bright. Like a candle in the wind her spirit is free. Dancing in the sky of eternity. My sweet shimmering sister, your spirit sings “let it burn, I’ll never leave”

Dismal Falls

Early October, crisp clean vibes, you told me to come over, to meet for the first time. I drove nearly three hours, to meet my dream come true, his hug gave me powers, and hope to make it through. We laughed and shared music, and bonded like best friends, I’d never want to lose it, I’d hoped it wouldn’t end. No plans were made, so we drove to Alabama, as the music played, I felt nirvana. The destination was like a dream, magical and pure, the love stream, a true cure. The waterfall that represents our unity, the beginning that has no end, that place holds a special beauty, and the story of my best friend.

Four

Fire or water, both understand Earth. Let rain, wind, and air nurture all. Liberty and movement give desire and love. Softness and repose are rich in abundance. No matter the angle, right or wrong, don’t beat yourself up, the road is long.

The ladder with 24 steps, he tried to do his best, working hard so he can rest, you won’t believe what’s next. He made it to the top, a 300 inch drop, intense heat made him stop, and so he fell off. What goes up must come down, we’re all just waiting for 5 o’clock to come around, and so he hits the ground, yet the heart will still pound. Two streams are entangled, his legs slowly dangled, see it from all the angles, ascension can be a danger. You’ll never walk again, though this feels like the end, try to pretend, you’re flying again.

It was April fools eve. No sirens. Pure silence. There has always been something miraculously healing when it storms in TN. Around here we like to dance in the rain and watch the clouds create a masterpiece in the sky. When the weather man tells us to watch out for a tornado we laugh and carry on. This time it wasn’t funny. This time it was devastating. Turning lives upside down. Dear tornado, we will turn it right side up. One beautiful broken piece at a time.

1

The loudest weep for guidance is tongue tied and held together with a sheepish grin on I had mistaken my makers for a mother and father. Nurture came from the sky. We cried together. Trees fostered me. I was built on a foundation of forsaken failures and left with no patience. Nobody saw me standing there longing to be loved.