Hour Six – Pug
Smug
Smug thug
Smug thug pug
Pug thug
Thug
Alms For The Poor
You find it funny
when you swing hammers
with a laugh and a smile.
Catching your sibling’s eye;
not to be alone in your odious offerings.
You find it funny
when you see me shrink –
handing ‘round your generational trauma
like alms for the poor.
Like we all should have what you’re having…
But you don’t find it funny
when you meet my eyes –
and the laughter of us all paints
a paltry picture of love
wrapped up in hurtful hand-me-downs.
You know it’s been vicious.
You know I’m hurt.
But really, you’re wondering,
if this will be the time
I finally stand up.
A Too Quiet House
A too quiet house
Greets me when I unlock the front door
No barks to say, “I missed you. I’m so glad you’re home.”
No more petting your fur as you stretch out from your nap.
Lots of tears as I think of
A too quiet house.
Life unto the world
a passage into new passages
looking intensely for new understanding
connecting to another frontier
a passage of spirit
in its renewal to life’s stories
connecting to another frontier
a passage of soul
recharging like a battery
connecting to another frontier
passing through
passing about
encompassing
unleashing
connecting
life unto the world
Beautiful
31 years ago I grew in your womb
30 years ago I was born
And I wonder if you looked at me in complete awe, knowing that for 9 months we were connected, we shared a body, that kind of bond should last a life time
15 years ago we stood in front of a mirror, your words sliced through me
“why cant you be pretty like your sister”
and in that instant, I shattered.
12 years ago, I left your broken nest and flew across the country
My wings barely worked, but they carried me away from you
They carried me away from the..
“why cant you be pretty like your sister”
“you need to stop gaining weight”
“walk 20 feet behind me so no one knows you are with me”
“you were so pretty before you cut your hair”
10 years ago I was free
3,000 miles away your words still hurt
8 years ago I peed on a stick, a plus sign stared right at me
I was now growing someone, we shared a body
and when she was born
I was in awe
7 years ago I held her in my arms and told her how beautiful she was
6 years ago I held her in my arms and told her how beautiful she was
5 years ago I held her in my arms and told her how beautiful she was
4 years ago I held her in my arms and told her how beautiful she was
3 years ago I held her in my arms and told her how beautiful she was
2 years ago I held her in my arms and told her how beautiful she was
1 year ago I held her in my arms and told her how beautiful she was
5 days ago, I held her in my arms and told her how beautiful she is.
“why do you always tell me how beautiful I am” she asks
I smile and say because I never want you to go a moment in your life not feeling beautiful
She took my hands in her face and said “mommy you are beautiful”
and in that instant
those pieces that were shattered
glued themselves back together
(hour 5) Society
Society is there a problem with it?
When bullying is such a no in school that when a kid tries to walk away but gets put in a a situation to defend themselves they get punished and not the original one doing the bullying ya there’s a problem.
As wars are waged over religious beliefs over resources rather than unite and share the riches to help each other.
The shame we should feel destroying the blood, sweat, and tears, that went into cultivating the land our forefathers worked by hand in hopes of providing food for generations to come, but yet we take till there’s nothing left then rip it to shreds dividing the land. Building our fortresses because we know that there is still some hard worked land out there, still untouched, still providing us substance.
Is there something wrong with society? You ask, when factories and employers pick up and move to save a buck, keeping profits up rather giving back to the communities that helped it strive. When the unemployment rate is skyrocketing and sources of work are diminished there’s a problem.
When they say a child is learning disabled but put that child in a class with 30 kids, because its all about a budget and not about helping that child,when the staff and resources are there and available.
There is a problem when we see each other as separate races rather than as one race. When the colour of your shirt gets you shot in a neighbourhoods as if to say i tell you what to wear.
There is so much wrong today in society and it will not change until we see each other as one. Until we stop fighting for over greed, when we see that people keep us moving forward and not whats in our pockets maybe then a change can start. Till then i say society is the problem.
✨Changing the road✨
Let me tell you something
I never been in need of your attention
So why do you waste your time
Stop your lies, turn around
And just go!!!!!
I don’t want to hold on to your selfish self any more….
Noooooooooooooooo
There’s no love more strong, them the one I feel for myself.
I can’t stay here waiting the you realize all the things I had gave you.
I’m happy when I focus on myself
And stop trying to get your love and attention.
I believe in a forever but not next to you, but with the sun shining bright on me now.
My happy ending its with myself love and dedication.
I’m independent and I see the value of myself when I take a look in the mirror.
Don’t waste any more time trying to explain yourself to me.
I’m done with this battle fields
I’m done with your lies
I’m done with anything the means
I had to be in content.
I won’t keep swallowing my pride
Trying to make us work.
In the process I would lose myself.
It hurst to not see me clearly in the mirror because of your shadow.
There’s no more chains
I set myself free…
I’m a woman
A phenomenal woman
And there’s no space for you here
My dear….
—Marquez Meriyen
My Tears
My Tears
Virginia Carraway Stark
Pitter patter rain drops
Falling this morning
With my tears
As I hear that you have
Left this plane
You were always full of love
And you
A sweet light
The mother of my mother
You were beautiful
Pitter patter raindrops
Falling this morning
With my tears
L’ha’alot
Wake me up and keep me up and hold me up to throw my up.
Later on I’ll sleep through all the troubles of the mind.
Build me up to blow me up to call me up and tear me up.
Into these quiet corners I pour all my wasted time.
Underground
I do not dream in pink with familiar notes of jazz clustered in the background I am mired here in blue, green. Do I dream these tones or brown, black-white? What can it mean to dream I have my theories so did Freud so Jung. I want to open up the dream, dissect it further than a childhood myth or learn I long for ache for when we all lived together saw the sunrise come together and the moonlight begin whenever we glanced from the porch at night to see radiance design my fantasy residing in the sea, the edge the blue deposits, red coral reefs, forests of kelp The underworld my home at last reveals the place I know, not a dream of pink or silver stars but instead cascades of froth nestled in the sand, rocks, muddy liquid drops all falling to build the cabin shelter made for lions in the sea, the cast of ocean depths.