Blog Archives
Infidelity
If you took away my infidelity
Would you let me have my way?
If these words were flesh
Would you bury my bones
Dig up the grains of sand
Left
Over
Blow my spirit so the the people who could never say
The bones could never declare
I existed
For a day
A season
Unless you said I was fair.
For a moment
An hour longer than you dared to muster
To declare I’m the loyal mare
I dare you to share
Laisse faire
For another day might tame
The girl who cared.
Or are afraid to .. …
If there was ever a time
If there was ever a time to put your words on display
National Poetry Day is the time to use your voice to say
What is in your heart
What do you feel
Reveal the emotions -at inner play.
Don’t admonish your words merely to paper
Don’t admonish your words merely to your mind
Shout out: I’m worthy. What I’ve to say is enough for today and another and another and ..
National poetry is for more than one day
Make each one count
Not merely the words you deem fit to convey
Your worth is more than hiding away behind myriad of masks to please those who get in your way
Your words are worth more than those whom you justify your truth without causing affray.
Your life story : Not merely poignant
Make your impression
Make your mark
I’m here to stay for more than a moment
more than a hashtag.
Use your words
Use your voice
To guide you to a better life -your way
For better or for worse
You are brave
So, seize your day
Its Okay.
Confessional poetry -Anxiety
*inspired by a work exercise I had to do for my bibliotherapy course- WORD PROMPT -ANXIETY*
Loss of control
Increased numerical equation
Detract from the value of self-worth.
Mind full
Mind bloated
Aspirations snipped loose by an unearthly, scale driven puppet master
Reduces an entire psyche to a chemical embarrassment.
Good mood desires nourishment
the live to eat philosophy
A heavy burden the beast bears herded in
restricted to forage on cashing out a societal life policy.
A one manned island
ravaged
to its hunger
My winter of Discontent
Winter is the gasping breath
Winter is the stench of decay
Winter’s touch is like paper mache
Winter is sharp enough to drive the gutless into affray
The sight of winter covers the vivid smiles of its seasonal sisters in shades of grey.
Gutted heart
My hearts in my gut
My tears already fall in that tropical fashion
My body already heaves with my breath like a speedy version of listening to the tides pull back and pull in -pushing my head under the ocean and forcing me to taste the entire body of it’s salty tears
