when morning comes
When morning comes and I awaken to a new challenge,
let me meet it head on… let me meet it with purpose… let me not shy from the work.
When morning comes and I awaken… let me awaken…
let me hope…
let me do…
let me be.
Yoni
I take leaves from my garden and fruits so sweet , I once cut an onion just to be honest with me, that there is pain in me, but I shaved back the thoughts that kept me and whispered my grandmothers words over the steam… “be a woman sweety, and you will learn this not by following me, but by being everything you were meant to be”, the leaves turned dark green and my ancestors bubbled in the boiling water and even more steam drifted up upon me, I squatted over truth and my insides creamed, I passed through the feeling of gathered lives within me and let my yoni be sweet and bitter and lovely…
#23 – A Human Anomaly
Manifest the buoyancy of breath beyond time,
beyond the whispers of those before and those not quite yet.
A place where substance originates as shadow
and symbols are dismantled within the tears of mankind.
The place where light is not luminescence but an absence of dark
and darkness is not the omission of light but the abscission of hope.
Be faithful to the ways of elders, as you forge new entries,
new boundaries unknown to the prior guardians of youth,
their guidance is structural not judgment, nor, ideology.
My father broke away from his father, as I broke away from him,
to assess a world new to my being and half-hidden to all fathers.
Truth lies among unseen connections, yet, it remains the grand illusion
Do not seek yourself within others, more likely, they are within you,
within your projection of their beings broadcast into the ether,
reflected and bent throughout on invisible curvatures of egotism.
Beware the prisons of logic and the dichotomy of breathing life,
in minutiae is seen quilted patterns of thought appearing as truth
disregarding the myriad fractal illustrations creating existence.
Living is seen as movement and the allusive direction of motion,
as all universal structures hurtle toward destruction, man survives
in isolation, a figment of his imagination and righteousness.
Failing the evidence of nothing, voids become bloated deceptions,
inducing belonging and camaraderie with the unexplainable
through threaded strings of physics and god(s) and self-ignorance.
Living is seen as movement, and, love, the peace of stillness,
borne of the heart in visceral exultation, affecting its possession
Nothing is possessed; There is nothing to possess; All is nothing.
Within nonexistence resides the beauty and ability of sight.
Within our nihilistic blindness, light mingles with the darkness of space,
and, we belong to all things, in all ways, without self’s pretensions.
We are vessels re-purposed to receive the sediments of presence,
temporary shelters and feeding mechanisms for creatures
and entities and mysteryial magics to hold for moments, then release
The relinquishment is love, the acquisition is life, knowing is peace.
I am a being only through thought, for which there is no cure,
yet, my being obfuscates thought, mimicking things more tangible
I am the wind, an invisible force and energy, constructed of whispering
I am the oceans, a collection of billions of particles casually assembled
I am fire, endlessly consuming the essence of life’s sustenance to survive
I am man, the consummation of the Mother and the Father, transcending
Me, the nothing to myself, and, the everything to those things about me
Me, the treacherous enemy of peace, and, the devoutest seeker of its caress
The Night is For Sleeping
The night is for sleeping,
Yet I lay awake
Sometimes
In the wee hours
Thinking
I must sleep
And wish otherwise.
Not enough time
To sleep at night.
The Colorful Way the Child in me Loves… Let me count the ways …. 120 ways
I taste the richness of your MAHOGANY skin
Bask in the FUZZY WUZZY BROWN of your glow
Stare into your CHESTNUT eyes
And see the RED ORANGE of your ancestry,
The expanse of what makes you SUNSET ORANGE beautiful
Your MELON is a compliment to your melanin
The OUTRAGEOUS ORANGE of your bravado that I drink in
Until I see VIVID TANGERINE kisses with no tongue
BURNT SIENNA upon your flesh after we lay in the sun
BROWN is beautiful but an understatement to what is you
SEPIA seeps into your feet that you carry in your shoes
Picking the ORANGE of your smile in a crowded room
And when you see me, how your BURNT ORANGE blooms
The amazing COPPER of your people, your ancestry
Mixed with the MANGO TANGO of your immediate family
Introduce me to the matriarch ATOMIC TANGERINE
And the patriarch BEAVER as he adores his lovely queen
They lay down ANTIQUE BRASS and create a scene
In the DESERT SAND of a lover’s dream
The RAW SIENNA of your high cheekbones stand out
The TUMBLEWEED is a beautiful thing, to be talking about
Like how when you TAN, new heights you seem to reach
Your flesh hairy and amazingly beautiful like a PEACH
Around the table of love, second help of MACARONI and CHEESE
From Aunt APRICOT who always aims to please
That NEON CARROT cake that never disappoints
And the ALMOND incense that fills up the joint
YELLOW ORANGE bellows down the hall
As the sun sets and GOLD lit the sky in the final call
The beauty is in the SHADOW of that sight
As the BANANA MANIA of the little people rises at night
You read a story that makes your niece and newphew SUNGLOW
The dimpled GOLDENROD of their whole hearts show
In those moments, I’d be DANDELION if I didn’t you
That you happened to YELLOW across my heart and let me grow
We chase the highs of the each day’s GREEN YELLOW
And lay in the SPRING GREEN of tonight’s mellow
It makes the OLIVE GREEN of your hard work so attractive
And how you attack the LASER LEMON of life, proactive
Nothing is ever to hard to UNMELLOW YELLOW,
Never one to raise your voice, your CANARY can yel-low
You have the keen ability to INCH WORM into my spirit
Calm the ASPARAGUS of butterflies fluttering, do you hear it?
Your lips taste like my GRANNY SMITH APPLE
The ELECTRIC LIME in the receiving line at the chapel
Has me SCREAMIN GREEN when I need to see your face
The FERN flows from your mouth at a steady pace
We embrace every FOREST GREEN thing that is thrown at us
Even when it makes us sick to even have to SEA GREEN cuss
Trips to the MOUNTAIN MEADOW of a long weekend
The SHAMROCK is just our luck, lovers and friends
Each time we cross the JUNGLE GREEN of this here life
You are the happiest CARIBBEAN GREEN with a queen as
A TROPICAL RAIN FOREST of a wife
I am her, and she is the PINE GREEN in me
You trace your seed, makes our ROBIN EGG, BLUE
AQUAMARINE fills the space used to make love
Lying on the floor of TURQUOISE BLUE below
Only to graze at the SKY BLUE up above
Your love rockets me to OUTER SPACE
In between the BLUE GREEN of an out-of-body place
Is this really the expanse of the emotional PACIFIC BLUE
So melodic, this CERULEAN, reminders of me and you
Legs strong like the stalks of a CORNFLOWER
As the MIDNIGHT BLUE in the midnight sky in the midnight hour
Propels us to tell the truth in the worst NAVY BLUE
Anything that gets me out my DENIM and on top of you
A BLUE Monday of memories, a weekend has passed
I want you to PERIWINKLE the twinkle out my a$$
I assumed as a CADET BLUE we would keep it pg
Knowing the pep of my INDIGO feet, follow your lead
You are the stop of my WILD BLUE YONDER
Basking in the MANATEE MAGIC, take a minute to ponder
How at the ding of your BLUE BELL
You pump me with more seed, to make my BLUE VIOLET swell
That in turn makes my PURPLE HEART swell
We are the kind of ROYAL PURPLE that seeps in the cracks
With the PURPLE MOUNTAIN’S MAJESTY across our backs
Never met a VIOLET (PURPLE) whose melanin lacked
A cut above the others, WISTERIA soul that can’t be jacked
In the VIVID VIOLET of my mind I knew it, that someday
I had to infuse ya, the way FUSCHIA made a way
For your spoken word to make a SHOCKING PINK
In the PINK FLAMINGO room where the conscious go to think
And expand, sipping our PLUM wine
Me on the stage in my HOT MAGENTA, trying to make you mine
The PURPLE PIZAZZ of my boldness
Only fuels the fire, and confirms that RAZZLE DAZZLE ROSE officially owns it
Room full of a fragrant ORCHID
No one can ever do my RED VIOLET the way you did
And the way your EGGPLANT do what it always do
Tears of CERISE when you slide on through
WILD STRAWBERRY candles set the mod every time
Picking up the MAGENTA of another dope rhyme
Locked and loaded in my LAVENDER fields
You allow yourself to explore the COTTON CANDY in my hills
The way I turn every VIOLET RED trick
Enter the folds of my CARNATION PINK and allow me to swallow the d!ck
RAZZMATAZZ in the motion of what lovers really do
My PIGGY PINK will never ever tire of the whole of you
Your flaws taste like JAZZBERRY JAM , I better hush
Each time I speak of our love, my melanin…BLUSH
If they were misinformed, you really TICKLE ME PINK
Manifested in the scope of my PINK SHERBET, you I only drink
MAROON volumes of your right hemisphere quickly create
The amazing RED, and the RADICAL RED is best to date
MAUVELOUS across my body like stretch marks
Extracting the wetness of my WILD WATERMELON parks
I again blush SCARLET
I wasn’t your wife, I’d be s SALMON harlot
BRICK RED, stay on 10 only for you
Knowing with this garden variety, plain WHITE could never do
But I release your inner TIMBERWOLF in the dead of night
I send myself into SILVER shivers in the heat of moon light
Just like that, we return to our 120 shades including GRAY
That decadence of our intertwined BLACK bodies as we lay
in the wake of our unrequited love.
FJ original 2016
Hour 23
My closet is my favorite place
I go there to pray
I go there to meditate
Its a great place to visit
Which I do from time to time
The name given to my closet
Is one of great importance
As it knows all my secrets
No one knows about my
Relationship with my closet
We keep each other’s secret
There is no other place so dear
To me cause we share things
So deep in life we will
Never disclose what I do
There when I visit.
copyright 2016 Roxann A Harvey
hour twenty
leading the way
a fox of fire
fiery temper
for red riding hood
next to little red riding hood
papa bear
strong and protective
a safe way
out of
the fairy-tale
Prompt 23
The Bar
We all have a favored seat,
and of course we all compete
to be there when the slots
start to pop.
We could mix each other’s drink,
we would scarcely need to think.
We could even make the order
for the owners.
The drunkards and the whiners,
the liars and maligners,
we know them all, just like
we know ourselves,
because we are…
at the bar.
©Ardelle Hollis Ray
Farm – Prompt Twenty-three
The red barn sits, used only for storage
An old farm truck sit by a gravel hill
Wooden corrals are overrun by cattails
The tractor’s bucket peeks our by the barn
Calves have been replaced by motorbikes
Trees have been removed for good
Things have changed way to much
My comfort zone has shrunk a lot
On my childhood home,things changed
For better or for worse has been undecided
The only reason I return, is for a man
I man who I love and call Grandpa
Survival Shelters
A white walled room holds only one bunk bed,
many bodies come and go,
families of two, four, six,
10 spaces available,
28 days to restructure your whole life,
children’s laughter phases out sounds of slammed doors,
a mixture of emotions fully expressed,
ambiance level has been set to safety,
children with brief friendships that last for their stay,
a mini-break for survivors,
not long enough to recuperate,
trauma has made “our bodies tired,”
left over belongings of an abusive relationship:
a few toys for the children,
a diaper bag for the baby,
a duffel bag of clothes,
and a whole lot of maybe.
Those can be placed in the closet.
Welcome to our shelter.