May Ellen Ezekiel

it is not every day

one gets to meet a woman like you

perhaps, it is the way

heavens have blessed me to have known you

perhaps, it is your charm and the things you did not do

perhaps, your warmth is in what you did do

hard to lay my hands on why you have to leave your grace

and hobnob with the dregs in their space

rubbing shoulders with them

you gifted them the Sunshine

your gap-toothed smiles light up their day

your voice breaks forth like the sunray

like a stream, you flow freely and emptied your content

they bath in you to their content

they dine

they wine

they smile

like a shy sun, you have sneaked away

and took your Sunshine away.

 

Creepy Crawly Reptile In My House

      “Creepy Crawly Reptile In My House”

I panicked and rushed into the room
And rushed into the room.

When I saw it.

Expecting my house to crush it down

And the wind to take it away.

It was thin,

And as skinny as a chopstick.
Small,

But as scary as the island of dolls.

It looked as straight as a stick

And as hard as a rock.

How can I let it go with a heavy kick?

When I can’t even hold a stick,

In that shivering hands of mine.

It was though a small creature

With similar human nature,

But with scary structure.

It was really an imposture

For lying like a stick.

Only to receive a step

To give a poisonous bite.

 

Influential Woman

Mrs. Piccolo,
Wasn’t famous, though I thought the world knew her though!
Well, my world did,
this lady had a way of loving you and making you believe it!
Her job was to teach, but she connected with each,
we all paid attention at every word she did speak.
We hung on her, like over ripened fruit, trying to hang on, afraid to unroot, afraid of a breakthrough. But she found a way to make sense of life, for you.
Misses Piccolo, she still isn’t famous, not sure if she retired but I surely know this, she went way above and beyond the job for which she was hired!

clouds

when I was four years old
she told me that clouds
were something you can
grab onto and keep

so on afternoons after the first goodbye
I’d go out to the yard, stretch
my little arms up into the gaping blue
to catch the cotton too far to reach

I never forgot
the disappointment on the plane
to -someplaceididntknowyet-
not being able to open the window

and when I first saw her again at the terminal
where families reunited, lovers ran to one another
my bitter silence arrival
met her soft chuckle at my frustration.

sometimes I see you sigh at nothing
or distance when you’re near
–and now when I look up at the sky
I keep my arms at my side

I now know: there are some things you long for
some things you can’t hold.

Hour 1, Not That Plath

Not That Plath

A lesser poet of married name
and borrowed fame,
her glorious, polished words
are filtered through the sieve
of my own leaky mind.
I scratch and claw them forth,
no elegant method here,
seeping from the paper
like the speckling
of tiny red wounds
scraped from itching skin
too hard and fast
by splintered nails,
nervously gnawed ragged.

She, the cold goddess,
encased in the untouchable,
martyred, marble layering
of an early and tragic death,
sealed her children away
from the deadly slumber
with paper and an evening meal,
away from the gaping maw
in which she placed her head.

I, far past an age she never reached,
trudge my stumbling feet,
rub blurred and aging eyes,
shiver through the beginning chill
of each waking day,
and shuffle toward a warmth she could not find,
not even within an open oven’s door.

H1: Influential Female

She prays.

She opens her Bible and finds strength in the page.

And talks face to face with the Maker of Days.

When you have the King’s ear, what can you not change?

 

She’s kind.

Never blurts what she thinks. Takes no bother to whine.

She is humble and gentle. Not idle. Not bleak.

Strength in her quiet; don’t mistake it for weak.

With the King’s Words to back you, what would you seek?

 

And the power she wields, though not weapon or spoke,

Quietly, patiently prays for the folk,

Who smirk and giggle and think God is a joke,

But one day will wake up—and then they’ll be woke!

 

Sej 2020

Hour 1, Prompt 1 – Her Grip

Dead night quiet,

The surrender never reaches daylight.

 

She carries in her meditation

Radiant reflections –

Measured breaths,

And no break in the steady.

 

When she speaks,

Thin lips promise her own secrecy.

Do not expect anything, but a cold whip.

 

 

#1 Love More Than Enough

As I open my eyes in the morning,
Down on my knees, head bowing.
The new breath of life I am taking.
It is a gift coming from heaven.

I don’t deserve it even just a bit.
Whatever I have is grace from above.
Forever I will be grateful as long as I live.
Nothing is impossible by His mercy and grace.

I will praise Him in song.
I will rejoice in His blessings.
I will be forever thankful.
For all the things He has done.

Our vessels are now full.
And no longer will be empty.
He fixes all the wrong in us.
His love is more than enough.

What Do I Know Of Fame? Prompt 1-Hour 1

In times of old, a woman’s worth was quite easy to define
If she was “good” and didn’t speak or step one foot out of line.
If she served her husband or her country that was plenty for the time.
Still, a woman could be famous, sticking out in ways that lead to death.

Then time passed and her worth grew and shrank in ways unexpected
She could be a queen or simple folk who grew to be respected.
Eventually, in cinema, a woman’s worth would often be reflected
by love, not death, and how she stood, against the system cinema erected.

Presidents and principalities became horrified by woman’s plucky positions.
They created rules meant to cage and burned them for any poor dispositions.
And yet the strong could not be made weak by men who made their missions
Destroying woman who just desired the right to have a right.

As worth transformed and work transformed, platforms for women grew,
To the point that I am asked to share a story of one I personally knew.
What do I know of fame or influence? What strength of femme can I do?
I’m not that special on my own but I can feel their power in my bones.

While I’ve never gotten to know a woman cursed with fame,
I’ve seen them throughout history with spirits wreathed in flame.
They never fail to do what’s right, they are impossible to tame.
A woman’s worth goes beyond her station, her influence can shape a nation.
And while I’ve never known one personally, thanks to their power
I can hope to be a woman who sticks out with influence on history.