rain rain

Photo by Kurt Arrigo
https://500px.com/kurtarrigo

There’s a quiet wash of beauty that falls from the sky in the shape of tear ducts like petals

‘round a flower or the almonds of your eyes.

She has a pulse, sometimes muted, padded feet on the soft ground, gentle gentle to and fro, sometimes boisterous with laughter.

There’s a quiet wash of beauty that falls from the sky.

She drip drips into the hollows of your heart and fills you full until you and she are one wave of interconnected consciousness, until you’re liquid motion, dancing satin in untamed skies.

There’s a quiet wash of beauty in the sky.

Do you hear her?

As she breathes ribboned secrets past the surface of your fleshy coat

Birdie

Photo By Andre Kertesz

I found some paper birds

Circling around a sky that someone made for them;

It’s not a very big sky

Maybe 8x11,

With really soft watercolors folding into one another

Washing over gently gently.

I wonder

If they know

That their world could be much bigger

If only they could tear down the neatly ornamented

Walls that enclose them on either side.

I wonder the distances they could travel,

What they could become,

If their wingspan were allowed to stretch

Across mountains.

I wonder what it’s like for them

To have limited freedom

And not even know

Quit Buggin Me

Quit buggin me all the time

Quit buggin me, I didn't do a crime

Quit buggin me, you monstrous beast

Quit buggin me, I don’t wanna be your feast

Quit buggin me, don’t sit and pry

Quit buggin me, I’m about to cry

Quit buggin me, you ugly fly

A poem from 9 year old me.

Sitting is Good Too

It’s ok

You don’t have to be alone today

I can be here

With you

At the same time

And share this space with you

So the ticking on the clock doesn't consume your thoughts

And the hollowed out wall doesn’t swallow you up and consume your thoughts

And the mean people inside your head don’t talk their talks and consume your thoughts

We don’t have to talk

We can just sit

And be

Two simple minds

Two simple matters of existence

Two shared beings of mama earth  

Rattling our cores

Thumping our hearts

Feeding our bellies

We can just sit

And when you're ready

If you're ready

We can fly

To Love Yourself

Photo By John Boris 

She had these eyes, right?

These big round eyes that pierced

That spoke truths

That she learned to cross stitch herself

With a pattern that she found on the bottom shelf of aisle 12

labeled “to love yourself”

Real small lettering, real loose, real round

The kind of lettering that dresses itself to the 9s

That sways smooth into its lover

And dots itself with cinnamon i’s

She came across it when

She was looking and searching for a part of herself

After the eyes she had been looking with were washed

One too many times with smudged fingers

After her world collapsed onto her shoulders and her legs sunk into the soil

After she felt her seeds were no longer
Strong enough to grow a forest rooted with thick tree trunks

And big leafy homes

After she wrung her thoughts so much

Like wet laundry

That her skin was hanging loose on the clothes line

And her bones were sitting in the corner

Drying

Waiting

Waiting for that fleshy bit to wrap her warm again...

She holds onto that pattern

As a friendly reminder:

To love yourself is beauty, baby

your whole self

your faulted self

your ever growing

ever sprouting self

You are beauty, baby

the artist survives

city life hopefuls with periwinkle dreams
sing to the stars perched atop evening window sills
stone cold living, concrete calluses with fluttering hearts
butterfly wings nestled in warm silky capes
our DNA dresses the night and greets the morning sun
tonight we dance
tomorrow

we also dance

Majik Mama

witchy woman standing in the corner of the sky’s little black box

thick thighs with treasure trove eyes

midnight silk laced in liquid crystals

she is moonsong

she is daybreak

she is the feathered dust

trailing behind shadowed silhouettes

dancing starlit swaying to and fro

ancient spirit with a quiet glow

electric pulses feed her fingertips   

as she sprinkles pixie majik

into your lost lonely heart