the end (napowrimo #30)

i'm gonna cheat again...this won't be a poem, but a little self-back pat for actually getting through this...

at first i thought it would just be fun, but it wound up being more than that. it was a catharsis. i got back in creative touch with some other writers i'd missed. i got a good bit of flow back.

never thought just trying to write a poem a day could do all that.

see y'all in 2011.

haiku (napowrimo #29)

bad news killin highs.
information overload
crushes the soft heart.

oya's hands (napowrimo #28)

trying to hold my ground
being pushed and pulled by the winds
of the moon and my womb

a monthly tornado
forcing me to take shelter
in words and candlelit altars

i emerge
unharmed,
but scattered
wandering slowly
among my pieces
seeking reassembly.

confection (napowrimo #27)

your chocolate, my
peanut butter. a cup full
of loving sweetness.

to the young man on the train (napowrimo #26)

creamy coffee
with a sunshine smile

where do they make
men like you...
who listen deeply
eyes soft with care
full of yielding strength?

how did you achieve
such early liberation
from the ridiculous posturing
society demands from you?

and can you teach
your brothers
your secret?

epiphany #3127 (napowrimo #25)

soundtrack:




with thanks to d.w.b.

i fear losing this moment's lesson
in the midst of unbridled bliss.

then again,
maybe that is the lesson...

rivers flow without ceasing.
chameleons live in relevant rainbows.

it is necessary for me
to surrender to the will of love
allow Her to sharpen my desire
and go where She leads me--

whether that means your arms
or to the edge of the ocean,
my arms filled with offerings.

i exist
to serve
from a seat of power;

such servitude
brings no shame
to the servant or the served.

only comfort
and countless blessings.

birthday (napowrimo #24)

for s.i.m.

one day
they brought home
a big, wiggly baby boy.

...and the chubby cheeked goon
had the nerve to take over.

i had been
usurped.

he bored me for awhile
but before i knew it
he could walk and talk.

then, wrestling was fun.
so was making him cry.

...but that was my sole privilege.
anyone else who tried
got the evil eye.

more time passes
and i come to appreciate
the sweetness in baby brothers
grown into young men.

who knew
an occurrence so annoying
could turn out to be
a blessing.

overflow (napowrimo #23)

filled with prayers
i can't speak

desires
i can't name

pain
i can't soothe

sometimes i hide in my dreams
just to see
who has the senses
to find me

working pisces magic
to tuck myself between waves

waiting for one
to hear the prayers
fulfill the desire
soothe the pain...

emancipation sideshow parade - now with more negroes! (napowrimo #22)

bright lights
pretty pictures
and microphones

tallow candles
sepia flyers
and overworked throats

college days
spent playing and praying
fun with a purpose
dreaming
of being picked
first

mornings in dank cages
spent praying and weeping
dreaming
of family compounds
and palm wine

everyone
a long way
from home.

dressed now,
naked then...

no perks
to being snatched
under cover of night
unlike
being snatched from the stage
in colorful jerseys...
while lawyers wait
to seal dream deals...

capitalization exchanged
for oppression
sort of...

it is
better
now...

we know those men
on wooden platforms
only dealt in nightmares...

it is
better
now...

softer voices
untwisted countenances
they only run from opposing teams
while bloggers crack whips

it is
better
now...

before the moon (napowrimo #21)

for the ladies

i got an urge
to lay in the lap of luxury
be pampered and
fed rich foods
sweet fruits
sip tea or
gargle honey...

be pleasured
every hour
on the hour...

sleep
dream deep dreams
light incense
wait for divine inspiration...

all in
undulating cycles
of bliss

but the alarm rings
and i gotta go to work
fit into the flow
sit and stare
at paperwork and such.

defying womb-deep desires
for something as petty
as a paycheck.