Bring me the sunset in a cup

 

600-st-johns-sunset

Bring me the sunset in a cup

Fill it just to the brim

Blow a mild breeze from soft lips

To stir the close of day within.

Hold it to me

Don’t let me take it yet

Hold it just far enough to ache my melancholy

And close enough my swelling peace to set.

Let my fingers circle the cup’s zero

As sunset seeps through my stance

And shifts, grows and ignores the confines

Of my presumptuous arrogance.

To think I actually thought me capable

Of stuffing sunset in a space

Of corralling, of confining, of controlling

The uncontrollable in my lame embrace.

But one can dream, can she not?

And, if dreaming, why not dream grand?

Create, carve, mold and colour a world

That gifts sunsets in one’s hands.

© March 2017

 

 

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WOMAN… Love!

WOMAN…

LOVE…

more

often

completely

without hesitation

without reserve

to a fault

over and over

despite flaws

in the face of mistakes

seventy times seven

again and again

without condition

no matter the challenge

always and forever

more than a mother

more than a lover

without space or distance

up close

with commitment

with your all

at the lowest drop

through soaring highs

in the face of disappointment

in the presence of betrayal

without ceasing

always

ALL ways

LOVE…

you!

just-let-go

Home

when are you ever not with me? i feel of you always in an open space on the left side of my heart. i walk through concrete jungles longing to feel your sand in my toes. i spy structures called homes that glare at me like a stranger daring me to be at home; and i long to feel your share of the trade-winds tickle the back of my legs as sweat glides down my arms. in a space consumed with excess and death, speed and shiny trash, your simplicity quickens the beat of my heart; and i yearn for the little things, like the taste of your salt in the air.16831154_10154178990322120_8696904057219067037_n

 

Sometimes

 

Sometimes you just have to…

Let it go

Walk away

Release it all

Forego turning the other cheek

Refuse to sacrifice yourself on the alter of someone else’s ego

Not be “the one”… who is always there, always reliable, always waiting to fulfill the need

Follow the voice in your heart

Not give a shit about the outcome

Say “no” with a full-stop after and not a comma

Take a sick day if your boss makes your sick

Hug up your loves a little longer, a little more

Be the recluse who prioritizes recharging her internal energy source over the cackle of the latest “news”

Hear the behind-the-back whispers without a care in the world

Jump in feet first

Step out on faith, on instinct, on that never-wrong gut

Allow relationships to die of natural causes

Smile the light radiating within even in the darkness of sour, mash-up faces

Not answer the phone

Not make excuses for why you didn’t do as someone wanted/expected/commanded/demanded

Free yourself to “do you”

Let the sun sear sweetest kisses on parts of your body rarely shown

Feel no need for sorrys for speaking the truth in your soul or mind

Share the overflow of your heart with the one whose heart is empty

Love up on yourself more than usual

Say “I love you!” if that’ truly how you feel

Be honest… with you

Purge the negative from your being

Touch the elements and give thanks

Float on the sea or ocean

Gaze at the stars instead of the TV

Talk to a ladybug

Sleep longer

Say “yes” to your dreams

Remember your childhood

Fear less

Raise a glass in toast to the lessons learned

Step aside to allow fair-weather friends to find the exit door of your life

Challenge the beliefs you’ve always had but never understood

Unpack that nagging feeling that won’t go away

Clean your house

Clear your heart

Allow your dreams to wake with you

Embrace

Open

Expand.

flower-closeup

 

 

 

 

© October 9, 2016

LIVE!

LIVE! out loud and on purpose

LIVE! bold and sure of foot

LIVE! the secret loves you tremble to speak

LIVE! open and embracing the wholeness of experience

LIVE! to stumble and fall and get back up again on your path to divine

LIVE! to feel the full range and realize growth in the passing

LIVE! to show yourself worthy of the honour of remembrance when you call other realms “home”

LIVE! radiating the uniqueness of the package your’re in

LIVE! real and honest and fearless and without apology or explanation and complete and authentic

In everything and at all times just…

LIVE!

meme-live

 

 

 

© October 2016

Protected

portrait little black girl

 

Why call you Alone,

invested in the idea of a suspended nothingness

fodder for smiling “peace”-cloaked wolves?

Alone betrays reality; tells lies on truth.

You are many and much

yet Alone is not in their number.

 

Why call you Alone,

when grandmothers’ stand surrounded?

Stay you there at her side, a little behind

white skirts greeting the wind.

Hold tight to grandmothers’ white flapping;

feel your little head bump occasionally the backside of her thigh.

Did you not know it is here safety calls home?

 

Peer at the world with its grinning devils,

see death’s multitude faces reaching, trying to say hello,

from the cool fortress of behind grandmothers’ thighs

from the barracks of behind grandmothers’ skirts.

See fully now, no fear-filled squints

The backitive in front, all around you.

 

A sea of grandmothers ancient as the first.

Mother earth the root; Mother moon the source

Standing, a firm circle embrace of their daughter

Full-moon bright your eyes, you’ll see clearer still

That you are many and much

Yet Alone is not in their number.

art - dark roots

 

© July 2016

He is

A father…

… acknowledges the honour bestowed on him by the Divine Ones

… is mindful of the life his ejaculation awakened

Septi ultrasound

… respects the one his child calls “mother”  (whether that’s easy to do or not), always aware that she’s given him a gift no other could.

daddy and Nisut

… is committed to the rearing of little hands and feet into powerfully productive minds

… is the one who always makes it a point to be present, with or without presents

… doesn’t recklessly dismantle the child’s belief in his power to make every cut or scrape, every bruised knee or ego all better with his hug.

Nisut's first impressions in Antigua

… is the first

Protector of innocence

Creator of giggles

Model of a disciplined life

Giant with the most comfortable shoulders

Example of what a husband looks like

Wrestling partner

Blueprint for manhood

  great grandpa Albertgrandpa Maurice

… is there, through early morning wakings, missing teeth, first bikes, and first loves

… will settle your crumbling world with the touch of his hand

… protects at all costs, sacrifices whatever, whenever if necessary

… does his best, always, to nurture his seeds, whether seedlings or full bloom, with love.

uncle Eric, Kerine and Kzuri

A father is not replaceable and cannot be substituted for, even with the best of intentions from a single mother.

A father is the ultimate expression of manhood!

 

Nekia, Grandpa John, Grandma Clara

 

 

I walked along a winding path

one starry, full moon night

to a place I could not be certain of.

Why I walked isn’t clear to me anymore

nor is why you came

but with each precarious step

reason and logic subsided

as earth’s energy glided up my feet,

regenerating cells along the way;

aligning my will to be connected to the source of my everything.

windng path full moon

Not knowing where I was going, I’m surprised I knew when I arrived

but my stopping feet and now seeing eyes

unblocked my ears to your call

till, still and grounded, I heard you touch the hairs at my neck’s back;

saw you listen to my inhale exhaling your inhale;

tasted the comfort of your enveloping everywhere-ness;

your confirmation breezing through the air.

connect to source

You wanted total connection, which required loss of my power

yet so quiet your insistence,

so firm your “I won’t force you”,

fear melted through the wet of my armpits.

My lead now on pause,

eyes closed in expectation,

head blazed at your approach;

willfully, I breathed in the essence of you

as you stepped into your control.

vodun dancing

I watched like a spectator

as you took over this vehicle we shared;

seeing and knowing yet not commanding or guiding;

I was only a passenger here.

You turned left when I thought a right would come;

jumped high touching earth in a whirl.

So pervasive your presence,

so diminished my own

felt like I almost wasn’t there.

possession

Until the moment you decided

this was enough or now.

Vehicle in park, we both very still

one breath in separation’s fight.

Slowly from one pant came two

as you whispered “its time to go”.

Reluctantly, I climbed back to the front seat

watching our disconnection increase.

Now I could see where I ended and you began

and could again find me in time and space.

I breathed in awe, exhaled my “akpe”

smiling, knowing, holding gratitude’s embrace.

© May 2016

Unrequited

 

I sat by the phone for hours

hoping today you’d call

desperately drawing on higher inner and outer powers

to confirm love lives here after all.

*

Well I waited and waited and waited

till sleep lullibied the day

and woke at dust to the ill-fated

knowing of things your voice didn’t say.

*

“It’s me, isn’t it?” says my mind in constant repeat

I’m too tall, too short, so fat, far too thin

insecure short-comings ring-a-rosy at my feet

and, seeing them there, I’m reminded that I’m too far gone to begin.

*

To love from a distance and make my peace with that

after tentative moments shared

we fooled me thrice thinking affection sat

between your perfect smile and words pretending that you cared.

*

What do I feel now reality has barged through on my door

with the truth of your non-love?

Do I scream? Do I cry? Do I crumple like a mess on the floor?

Or do I release you with sigh and fight more to rise above?

*

In years to come I’ll smile at this bullet dodge

for truth is you were never good for me, a rogue quite benighted

but today my solace lies in this second tub of dark chocolate fudge

sweetening thoughts of this love unrequited.

dying rose

© April 2016

The Cruelest Month

So friend and fellow blogger Chatti Natti is doing a poetry challenge based on daily prompts. I’ve been following her daily submissions (love em by the way) and was inspired to tackle one around the same time my little nephew fell asleep so time and intent conspired to give me opportunity. Sadly, that collaboration hasn’t happened again since.

Anyway, here’s my attempt at rising to the NaPoWriMo challenge for day 4 to the prompt “The Cruelest Month”. See details and Chatti Natti’s creation here ————–> (https://chattinatti.wordpress.com/2016/04/06/napowrimo-poetry-challenge-day-4-the-cruelest-month/)

 

The Cruelest Month

 

They say no month really differs

But this, I think, is untrue

Some months’ energies shift and shivers

Depraved cruelties some renew.

 

August, that month of heat

Intense and unrelenting

Awakens the mind of deadened defeat

To depravities never-ending.

 

Cussin, yelling, they name call

Minds doused in alcohol set to stew

Drunken, emboldened, cowards packed thick as a wall

Hunting victims anew.

 

With the devil’s vengeance for wrongs perceived or real

Their victims, trapped, beaten, tormented as brute

From highest trees swinging as breezy sail

In August, that cruel harvest for these strangest of southern fruit.

 

Black-lynching