Monday, April 25, 2011

poets

she prefers

    to hang out with poets

because they speak her language

  hear her thoughts

and understand her ways

without knowing or having to ask

          why

she prefers

    to hang out with aging beatniks

    prodigal prophets

   and other marginal people

that most have disregarded and thrown away

without discerning the buried treasure

              that lies within...

~ from "Hairstory"

Saturday, April 23, 2011

can I be your muse?

can I be your muse...

invisibly overlooking your shoulder and watching you create

inspiring your thoughts and words out of nowhere

changing and challenging you to dig deeper into the realms of

     your   subconscious

and write from your heart?

can I be your muse...

~ from "Hairstory"

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Get Out

if he hits
with words…actions…or fists
      Get out.
let the law deal with his problems...
   his problem is not you.
and just in case you didn’t know
assault with those deadly weapons
is a crime against God, nature & the universe
and finding 1,000 ways
to stay in a relationship
            that might kill somebody
especially when that somebody might be you
is a death-wish that will come true.
don’t believe the hype…          
no matter what anyone says
it’s not your fault.
                abusers always blame others
       and can’t see themselves
excuses are their reasons to live
no matter who dies in the end.        
 so get out while you can
               save yourself and your life
 home is where the heart lives
   but the heart needs a safe place to abide...
 and if you have to run
  Get out
call for help
 look for shelter in the dark
an outstretched hand…
a willing confidante…
 or an anchor in the storm.
you keep holding on
hoping things will change
and afraid that he won’t
not knowing what to do
if you don’t Get out…before it’s too late
it’s OK to be afraid
   but it’s not OK to hurt
           to kill
           or be killed
the law of the jungle
doesn’t apply at home
living like a trapped animal
because you’re too afraid to be alone…

Get out.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

where is my poem?

waiting for me
in the inner recesses of my mind
where no one sees
...
not even me
screaming to come out of obscurity
mystery
hidden identity
and tell its own story
no longer sworn to secrecy
and bound by metaphors
but revealing the naked truth for all to see...


~ from "Hairstory"

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Phoenix Rising...

I am Phoenix Rising ...
never falling,
indistructable strength
undeniable beauty blazing brightly from the heavenly realm.
I am Phoenix Rising...
never falling,
clothed in majestic garments that only give off light
fueled by my imagination
and traveling at the speed of thought through the galaxy
with a trail of fire behind me
never looking back
rising
never falling,
I am Phoenix.
watch me fly
into the future
out of the ashes and shadows
into the brightness of God's glory
sending shockwaves through the universe
Phoenix Rising...
never falling
without the possibility of failure
as an option
the universe is my destination
a unique being in flight
a beautiful sight to behold
rising, never falling
I am Phoenix.

April 14...

it’s so hard to understand
     how motherhood could ever drive her own soul into the Hudson river
                     while carrying the innocent ones who ask why...
there are no answers
only questions
and the world is a much emptier place
because motherhood gave birth to her own demise
and we grieve…


(c) 2011 PoetryofMotion!

for them...and for me

just another afternoon of random thoughts
  and musings about nothing in particular
while passing by a group of angry young ladies of nine or ten whose femininity has been ripped away
until they are no longer themselves
     their speech is broken
      as well as their hearts
i wonder where the little girls are
 underneath all of the fa├žade of roughness...

~from "Hairstory"

i wish...once...now...


I wish... that i knew back then what i knew now, without the lessons...that i could write in 7 languages...that chocolate was the universal currency...that there was no such thing as hypocrisy...that tomorrow was promised...that people would only make promises they could really keep...that life didn't hurt so much sometimes...that no child would ever have to cry...

~ from "Images Emerging III"