Monthly Archives: March 2017

Smiles of Fear

Constant fear of isolation

Brings it quicker and faster

Than time could make possible

A love

Of hatred

Beliefs rooted, in self disbelief

 

Grounded through the heels

Through the balls

May it open up and swallow me.

 

Birds singing of their freedom.

I wish to emulate.

Instead of sitting bitterly

Resting on my calves

Waiting to be slaughtered

By my mind’s clean-up initiative.

 

“Brighter days ahead…”

Yet the brightness of day

Is blinding

There is no comfort

To be had

 

The false smile eats away

At me. The stress

Of this social synchronicity.

Causing a single line of sweat

To roll down my chest

 

My heart is finding the niceties debilitating

My third breast lactating

Feeding kindness to those that don’t

Deserve

Only to have the beguiling, overcompensating

Smile

Gnashing in the night

Igniting hell in my mouth, simply showing

The inner workings of my mind

 

The height of politeness

The innate disgust at my

‘niceness’

 

The antiquity of my situations

Saddens

Creates a hole in the chest

My foremothers tried their best.

Sure I should continue this smile and not put tradition

To the test.

 

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Bedtime Fears

There will come a time
When the monsters
The boogeyman
And the ghosts
The shadows
And the ghouls
Will come from your childhood
to plague you

They will return with a vengeance for your blood
Reminding you of the battles you’ve though
Reminding you of the tears of fear that you’ve cried
Reminding you of the pain that you have endured

They also serve as a reminder, that a strength within you has evolved
To forget all that plagues you
To fight all that frightens you
And to destroy all that challenges

But remember, those who raise a sword hold an equally likely chance
Of being cut by it

Sometimes, ones independence can come at a price

The price of liberating yourself from your childish mind
Is the creation of the adult
The realisation of your true fears
Seeing the tangible presence that puts you to tears
And starting the process of overcoming.

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Sensual Muse

In a mansion
Not built with the reflection of my fears
But with the deception of my hardened exterior

Mahogany walls carved with the old money
Of generations
Culture hanging off the walls
In painting and a sculpture’s posture

And in the middle of The Room

A sea of water lies
Defined by limits
Only within the mind

Hues of powder pink and blue form
A light shining out of the souls of those
the water contains

Lovers expressing freedom
with no constraint
No shame in their identity
Nothing to gain in pretense

But freely giving
A fear of affection
Drowning
At their own volition

Feelings deep
Within the pit
of our stomachs
Expressions of acceptance
The budding of love

Bubbles of fear
Leave my mouth
As I give myself up
To your exploration
The sensation
of you
so sincere

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The Dragon or The Phoenix

Sometimes I wonder
Am I a Dragon
Or am I The Phoenix

Do I posses
The willpower
To restart
my life over?
Do I receive
Death, as a healing
Instead of a devouring?

Am I absolute
In my existence
In my mind
And my encourage
Or am I fairytale creature
Brought to life
Only when
A Heroine wishes to strike?

I do not know
which I am
But I do know
Which I wish
to become

I wish to become The Phoenix
To die
Many deaths
Without truly passing
away in my mind
To renew my mind
When old ways
have passed
To wear a coat
more beautiful
than any angel or bird

I choose to be
The best
I can be
Through renewal
and rebirth
Through the sacrifice
of the dead cells
in my heart

I wish
To free
My soul

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Magdelene the Siren

Am I like Magdalene?
If I am, I have been her since I was young
Only no white garment or exorcism was enough
No stinging water, no oil thrown hard enough
To cast the demons that were displaced upon me

My soul is forever heavy
Lilith that swims amongst the sea breeze
I take no prisoners for the sea has already captured me
The sailors are the ones that use me
Yet when they try to cling to me
I capture their soul with my talons and drag them with me
Into the abyss
And hold up a mirror to their soul
So they can see they have lost all control
And their inequity they can run from no more

The true sullied and decrepid nature of a man’s soul
Grotesque and seeping
with pus filled sores
By the million ways he has tried to curb his pain
with a vile sword

There is no honour in creating a Magdalene
In ravishing a siren
You should have committed seppuku

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