7pm
I mid evening break
the bubbles poured over the rim
im beyond the wine now
the ink is still with me though
the jacuzzi
it flooded the room
i would think
i poured so many bubbles
i can’t see the ink
i feel amazing though
the freedom
to soak
and write
how visual my mind is
as I see each bubble
as a cloud
i would say
im checked
in
literally…
(xi)
mecum omnes plangite :
…..they say the mountains are filled with crystals,
and good fortune.
Turn off the gas now, the jester weeps;
it is the hour the long-haired croupier
(O Fortuna! Sors immanis!)
in skirt and stilettoes, steps
on shards from shattered hearts.
that which the eagles at night had dropped from Psunj….
“….perhaps I’ll bring you luck!”
Mirror
Can you become
Like a mirror
Reflecting that which is?
Can you delve
Into every crevice
Of your being
To finally meet
And come to know
Who you truly are?
Can you explore
Your fear
And tremble
Through it
Rather than
Trying to
Escape from it?
Can you
Go into it,
Even if it brings you
Suffering and pain?
Just maybe ….
On the other side of fear
You will find Love.
Erased
You never said goodbye.
You just disappeared
Leaving me to wait
And wish
And hope
You erased yourself from my life.
There’s an emptiness in your place
I don’t wait anymore
Or wish
Or hope
I just miss you.
Seeds of Change
What does it mean?
One ponders, one wonders
At the complexities
Of what life delivers
The thought,
The wistfulness state of
a perfect life
can it exist?
Yes indeed! It starts
From deep within
Self-love blossoming
Is the birth place
Of your inner bliss
Trust in the deep within
The Voice,
The Heart of the matter
For then, you will find true
Inner peace and happiness
our forbidden love
What am I doing wrong?
I pour myself into witty conversation, but you remain mute.
I stir in sugary comments designed to get you upset, but you’re still mum.
I sip your love and wonder if I return it in full. Doesn’t one always give more?
We’ve been together virtually every morning for decades, yet
I know so little about you. Yet without you, I would not function. You, however, would find somebody else.
You pick me up in the middle of the afternoon and our souls dance together.
You talk to me in a different language that I’m slowly learning, oh sexy, four pumps venti, white chocolate macademia nut frappucino.
I am Rebel
Dancing to the music
When the music hits you
You feel no pain
I am a Rebel
Waiting to hear the sounds
Thunder through the clouds
Music gives rhythm to my Swag
Keeping those feet moving
All over the moon lit shores
Music is the greatest
It stabilize your heart
And mesmerize your Brain
without the Drain.
just down the road 6PM
pizza place for dinner
but I had a calzone
shared with my daughter
had to get out of the house
just down the road
not even a mile away
half of that
The Consuming and Raging War of The Poetics
Part XI
We all know,
not all dreams are pleasant,
and as my body gives in to the wares of war,
I drift into a dream far away;
past days of my mother’s brutality,
into the realm of falling in love and entering into marriage.
The beginning was fun and games.
Drinking every day.
Sex that is free after vows are made.
Getting mad,
making up,
getting madder,
making up tougher,
hit with the reality that my spouse is an alcoholic,
and all the sudden,
life and responsibility lies on my shoulders
and I don’t want it.
I have to live sober through the hell,
and he drinks and curses me ruthlessly,
and I have to forgive day after day after day…
the dream is a nightmare,
and I am awake;
how was a naïve 18 year old supposed to beat the wits of
a 30 year old man?
She’s not! I didn’t! And the story goes…
– Michellia D. Wilson 8/23/14 6:00 PM