what is it like to sit in silence and hear the sounds of ocean waves playing
what is it like to face the sun and feel the wind cool and soft
what is it like to have lightness and to feel the colors of sea glass through my pores
and why is it that the dock doesnt move me to sleep and instead
i grip with my soul
afraid to drift away
i will wait silent
body heavy with living
my head yet holds up
with equal amounts of tears
just as many crooked smiles
orange peels fresh in the sink
my finger tips scented by their honey
outside the heat lectures the breeze
little birds lined up fluffy down ornaments
i ask myself
self what will you do today
and i answer i dont know
you do that everyday self
arent you tired
and i answer yes but not like how you think
the birds are still
the window thick but i can read their beaks i know theyre singing
and i say to self
self how about oatmeal
the Irish kind with a little cream and fresh peaches
starring with blank eyes
at the punk rock collage
stirring the cinnamon and sugar
my 4 year old self giggles out from the jar
pig tails tan corduroy dress
bare tiny foots and a Disney coloring book
self instructs me to stand
and i walk away from her
soft pink petals
wooden table top
lay there limp
looking up silently
at spinning fans
dried tired knuckles
on sore thighs
immobile in exhaustion
thinking there quietly
about roses aging
spirit’s sweet scents
mingling with walls
a memory landscape
then passing birds
bless the skies
curtains stay open
those songs sweet piano notes the ones sung by Adele hurt the most as they remind me of what dad did to mom
those words from boisterous guys showing off on bended knee their devotion perfection and digits of currency in worship of me will someday soon turn lethal
those men with delusions of being the righteous new species from Adam came and it won’t change that they are internally afraid of what their daddy did to their momma
from time unknown we flow and go turning around in circles a pull a push in darkness beams and the light sometimes is not that clear
even tears give up before our heart when we slip into children playing dress up me mommy’s shoes you daddy’s boots the familiarity of violence
time does not heal no matter how much it says in the public service announcement the warning signs the stacking cans of fire water rage combustion on music notes the peaceful hoax of love everlasting
momma
bird
nests
atop
the
street
sign
she
tweets
to
me
smile
life
goes
on
cup
tightly
like
a
momma
cat
firmly
cusp
my
soul
you
are
the
key
it
is
there
tucked
in
the
breath
under
the
heart
of
love’s
magic
embrace
there are bright yellow red hearted blossoms waving at the cars
trees screaming with a hundred demanding little birds cleansers of the earth after the war
telephone wires obselete and dead
wireless carriers facilitate what’s next
skies gloomy skin tanning albeit
here in my new home away
from the sores of tough living
my body moves more
still the pain gets stronger
wars can still reach me
the curse of gab from shallow tongues
remind me that i’m not enough
and that my fat rolls and brittle hair
are cause for alarm
not that our Mother is burning
i too am fragile to not cry
too salty
to not have the strength to soldier on
i’ve made an executive decision
today i’ll have no viewpoint
instead i will experiment with hummingbird nectar
and hope that they will come and partake
their wings without rest
their bodies steady in the air
thoughts scurry in my head
and the heart
hasn’t found her resting place
still lingers there
between dislocated ribs
for all times sake
words less spoken 