Category Archives: poem

Bath

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Hotel.

I draw a hot bath, pouring generous amounts of bubble bath under the faucet.

I immerse myself slowly as the temperature of the water is a bit too hot.

White tub, white shower curtains,

White noise fan.

Speckled walls.

Sleepy eyelids closing.

I want to stay here and dream.

The water is getting chilly

And the faucet is dripping ice cold drops on my toes,

Reminding me this is no fairytale.

The fan is singing to me

And no one is asking me questions now.

I will stay just a little longer.

Linger just a little longer.

Linger just a little longer

As tears trickle

Down my skin eventually mixing with the bath water.

I will merely imagine

I am adrift in the ocean.

Roam

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I travel and travel on.

Straight roads

And winding roads.

Flying.

Driving.

Crawling.

On the chaos of the main roads

To the quiet of dirt and narrow foot trodden

Routes.

Finding myself

On the game trails between

Birch and pine.

It comes to pass

Once again,

No trail

Before me.

Roaming on.

I am home.

And roaming on I will go

For everywhere

Is home.

Broke

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Somewhere

Before I remember,

When i began to walk

I think,

I started carrying your disappointment and Fear

On my back.

And when my staggering posture became noticeable

I

Carefully moved it

Behind my ribcage

Between my heart and my stomach,

Rearranging my insides for you.

It was almost impossible to breathe,

Impossible to eat.

Though I thought that is what good children do.

As I grew I realized

You did it for your mother and father too.

This was all you knew.

I am grateful we broke our hearts open.

Thus,

We broke the silence.

Brave

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The bravest thing i ever did

Was to

Return home and

Confront

My fear and pain.

Oh the nightmares. The anxiety and dizziness

From holding my breath all this time.

I believed I had left it there in darkened places

(That fear)

But truly

I had been carrying it;

Wearing it.

I placed forgiveness

There;

Home.

And in return

Was immersed in love.

And I felt lighter and I flew higher than ever before.

On to living a fuller life.

On to letting go of more of this and that I have picked up along the way.

The power was mine all along.

The power is mine.

Mommas Violin

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Momma would pick up the violin

When her heart was breaking.

And the strings she would play

Until her fingers,

They were aching.

And her tears

Made the melody

Flow from her soul.

Even though I was young,

I felt it in my blood.

The love and the hate.

The longing and yearning

As it echoed from impossible

Depths.

Each note

Bleeding

Out

From the

Fissures

Of her

Heart.

*choleintodiamonds*

* originally posted May 2014*

Quickness

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We all know it happens;

The quickness of life

Though we love and live

Like like we have so much

Time on our hands.

Fooling ourselves into thinking tomorrow

We can

Be love.

Tomorrow we can

Show love.

Expecting mind readers in our midst to know our thoughts and feelings.

Staying silent and planting ourselves firmly

In our justification

Of blame.

There is this moment and there

Is you.

Do not put it on others to be love.

Create the ripple effect within

Yourself.

Be the never ending

Beginning of love.

One of Them

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You locked me in a room

Then turned off the circuit breakers leaving me

Alone in the dark.

You knew I was terrified of ghosts,

Turning up the music to drown out my cries.

Telling me the demons were waiting to

Devour me whole;

To take my soul.

You did not know that they would

Turn and take care of me.

You did not know my Warrior Ancestors were there and would teach me

That love is the spark within that never

Yields.

I was not alone.

I learned to dance with my Ancestors and our

Beauty created an indistinguishable fire

Within.

I learned a timeless courage

And smiled at the challenge you created.

Thank you.

For without you

I would have never experienced

All this firsthand.

People would have spoke of these things and I would

Have dismissed them as crazy.

Now I am one of them.

Merely

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Forgotten windows and doors.

Rotten Wood

and

Rusty keyholes.

Spider webs and creepy crawlies underfoot.

Dare I peek behind the vined curtain?

Afraid to see who is watching me;

My legs shaking and betray my steady hand.

Hearing the echoes of heartbeats as I stand

Still and hold my breath.

Has time been forgotten

Here

Or is it merely waiting motionless

In the veil of between

Aching and remembering touch?