My father was a God
No wonder I felt I was warring with fate
That rage
I see all the old ways
The thick strength of your hands
That old timey jargin
Like artifacts buried in the desert
The wind shifts and I stumble over an old relic
I was tired
Worn through
It’s jarring
To be cluttered with your DNA
Even things I thought were idiosyncratic
Unique
Just remnants
Of your tattered cloak
the freedom raft was set to sail
the angels on our side
we pushed off righteous, bright and young
were sure we’d need no guide
our eyes affixed to distant shore
no turning off to side
we’d set the goals from man and God
let’s trample out the lies
I held position in the rear
each one within my sight
I pushed and pulled upon the pole
from morning into night
the promised land would soon be ours
but I was growing weak
when holding tight, stick stuck with mud,
I stayed, struck dumb my speech
A boy alone atop a pole
no head did turn to aft
then clinging, screeching, help me, hear.
a tide did move the raft
They drifted off, I left behind.
none dared to say I’m gone
betrayed to die upon a stick
so Angels can’t be wrong
II
They found a flat dead body there
dried flakes upon a spoon
they pride and pulled to get me off
the boy who’d been marooned
I cracked, I chipped, I stuck in spots
it took most half the day
they wish they’d never seen this place
and gone another way
and why he’d fried and died that way
was food for all their thoughts
when barely 20 minutes swim
he’d been upon those rocks
but place me not unto the side
the others taught me well
there is but one destination
a single place to dwell
eyes fixed directly towards that light
the mind locked in a room
the dream filled home high on a hill
winged Angels coming soon
III
The ones who had abandoned me
were in the crowd that day
when one would meet another’s eyes
they’d quickly turn away
then late one night all gone to bed
with multi-colored dreams
Remembering how they’ve been before
recalling merry things
and one by one they left their homes
and snuck down where I lay
each gripped a morning glory
as they’re tears fell on my grave
a pact was made between themselves
a silent knowing thing
a way to feel good again
they’d sail again next spring
So just another season then
they’ll haul me down the hill
they’ll hold me tight to my surprise
and love me, yes they will
Again I’ll sail along with them
death need not be my lot
I’ll laugh again and smile and dream
Believing every drop
The shining home, the happy end,
the angels and the wings
again will be within my grasp
and boldly shall we sing
That night now seems so long ago
I wonder where they’ve got
The promised spring is hard to see
It’s dark down in this spot
Though waiting here is awfully cold
I’ve learned a warming trick
I simply think back to the time
the sun shone on my stick
when the clock of civilization has lost its sense of time
she perceived the world without knowing its malicious darkness,
a lonely young girl died many times
before her death when
she was gang-raped by some beastly men,
suffered many days and months,
she delivered one day a baby girl,
that day on her baby’s little hand
no crescent moon had reached,
no star dropped from the sky,
no one tolled a bell from the distant cathedral,
no song was in the air, no artful flute was blown,
the girl cast her unseeing look at the society
that mocked her, betrayed her!
she smiled at her baby, the God smiled too,
her rhythmic heart blended with a harmony
that brought a perpetual benediction in
an ambience of elysian quietness!
without any anguish her mind was in a festival,
there she heard a hymn with deep allusion
she was longing for,
tears rolled down her cheeks,
she closed her eyes!
–Mustofa Munir
Tender flesh scented with musk, reclining, inviting succulent busts.
A fluid dance of complete abandon,
exploring deep passions with total trust.
Planting moist kisses on a body in surrender,
eyes open and close absorbing lustful splendor.
A heartbeat, sigh, moonlight suspended in night sky.
Hungry hands excavating caramel-colored thighs
trembling with nervous delight.
Two beings consumed with primal fire,
melting glacier valleys and igniting hidden desires.
She is like me flowing, meandering through forgotten emotions.
The night winds bring on these dreams of long denied devotions
new fantasies maintain memories of gentle love
crushed, cast into the ocean’s coral bottom.
By: Donna Maria Woods
Genre: Romantic, Sexual
In my little finger, buried deep, is a splinter
I hardly noticed it at first
but it twinges, it feels strange
and the skin is not healing over it
I try prising it out with a needle and make myself bleed
This produces more pain than the splinter
so I leave it awhile, ignore it, but it twinges
feels strange and the skin will not heal
In my mind is a splinter
I hardly noticed it at first but it twinges.
It feels strange and wakes me in the dark
I try to uproot it only to feel ashamed
so I place my thoughts elsewhere, but it twinges
and I find myself awake, eyes wide searching the darkness
Outside there is a splinter
a thorn so long it pierces earth, sea and sky
a thundercloud bursting with bitterness
I glance up and feel hopeless, heart hammering
frustration with myself, with all of you
Why? Why did we just leave it there?
Who? When? Where? How did it grow so large?
I just have to look away.
I ignore it, count my blessings, try to stay positive
The Earth is now a stranger
Half of the harp strings are detuned.
A discordant song rises up with the moon
Imagine. Just imagine a life free from splinters.
Could there be a sanctuary of sweet somnolence?
A wonder of Oneness?
The Universe sliding into blessed oblivion slaps itself
Shockwaves ripple into tidal waves
an endless ocean of motion and emotion
cycles, seasons, madness and reasons,
a symphony of cacophony in starbursts
the splintery splendour of Life
The pale of night resolute to memories.
The skies bleed as the darkness turns to light and becomes bright.
A breathing light takes the shadow to the warmest level.
A deep moonlight sounds the songs of the stare waking.
The pale night brings the brightest shadow. Merry greetings with a touch of fortune on your way. . .
Always Dea Divi thee Lovely Dee…
“And I have facets of many faces, I live with the cosmic scope of life with a haunting magic melody, yet I am a wanderer, writer and storyteller. . .”
Listed below other social media links…
Glass shattering, Fists flying
Cries echoing through the walls
Blood stains, Ice packs, hot baths,
Thirty 911 calls
Lie after lie, same song, he has control
Long shirts, make up, sunglasses
My eyes are swole
He once hit me so hard
I swore I saw God
So I reached out only to be struck again
By my King, My Homie, My Lover
He told me we’d be like Chucky
Till the end
I got tired of giving chance after chance
Looked him in the eyes and said…..No more!
I’m suppose to be your Queen, Your wife
Not your Bitch or your Whore,
Last time I was hanging in the balance
between the sky and the floor,
And that’s when I knew I had to leave
Because either me or him was
Knocking At Heavens Door.
Leisurely hallucinating, under the spell of 211,
trying to ignore them hopeing for heaven..
Slight fears within, afraid of loud cheers..
Trying to hold down these malt liquor beers..
Shakeing and trembling, too subtle for belief
Vague sounds here and there, not feeling the relief..
1 o’clock nearing by, happy as i can,
Trying to get down that 211 can.
Sitting on my perch, while everything hurts,
Sip by sip, I attempt to drown my sorrows,
hateing for today, and dreding my tomorrows.
Hearing my name called, by the willie willie birds, muttering to john, since i cant form words,
Depending on subtle sanity, returning to contempt
State, wishing for a dollar with noone in site.
so dreaming is a gift, but i deny so,
if only i could make, these dam birds go..
Calm is comming soon, sitting behind the store,
as my whole body’s weak and my legs are sore.
Upchucking violently, heartburn is a burn
it’ll be a long night, as john takes his turn,
Sip by sip, we live by the sword, as john Barleycorn
Keeping us worn. Nights getting dark, the visions are
Easeing, but its not over, as me and john know the reason..
Dont talk dont move, sit there in silence, only gulp after gulp
Its a hard reliance.. Praying to rid my body of the toxics,
John says hes fine, taking a look at his pockets..
Eager to subdue all of the nerves, another whisper from the willie willie birds.. Alcohol is poison, from which we pray,
Pain easeing slowly, as we pass through the day..
Night is promising, people seems more pleased, we ask for money and tell that we need, too much liquor, such a patrons delight, if they knew how we felt, they wouldnt put up a fight,
Tequila’s too much, and we dont care, to tell u the truth, we’ll subtly dare.. Relaxed is good, as the voices arent mad, if i could give up, the insanity would be bad.. Sipping to gain control, thinking its so cool, as Johnny barlycorn has us like fools.. Walking to the woods, to find a lying spot, trying to duck from the big city cops. As my life is dredged, I have memories of my comfy bed, I look over to john, as hes praying to be dead
I broke out a cry, hurting so bad inside, the intense pain isnt on my side..laying there broke and all day long, asking strangers for money so we can just get along..
Quarter and dime, small beer and wine, crying to pain that’s ruining my mind.. Humbly recoiled, with thoughts of despair if i had it my way, i wouldnt dare..
#Thistooshallpass
#whateverhappensitsonly12stepsout
GENRE – Love
This poem is a memory,
About something as beautiful as love.
And this poem is also my present,
After the doom’s day.
I was happy, back then,
Life was good,
I was fine.
And my mind, a chaotic rebel.
But then, love,
Offered me peace
And how could I have spurned it.
It eased my mind,
So, my heart fell.
It doesn’t anymore though,
Like it’s galvanized in black matter.
Absorbing every bit of feeling
Making me more dead than alive.
I told my love,
About how I wanna name my daughter
After the goddess of wisdom,
And asked him to have one with me.
He smiled timidly,
Showcasing his perfectly carved dimples.
It was easier then
It is harder now.
It was sweet then,
It is immature now.
Love painted my sky brightest blue
With a tinge of orange,
As he always says,
It signifies warmth.
And now I feel colder than ever.
My sky is midnight blue now,
Or a little bit more darker sometimes,
But atleast it’s real.
Not warm, but real, and mine.
All this felt more like a daydream now,
Started with the most pleasant feeling in the world,
Ended up being my worst nightmare.
I wanted to sing laurels
Of our magnificent love,
But all that really came out
Was the cry of decadence.
They say,
Every time someone breaks your heart,
There is a chance in some parallel universe
That they don’t.
I wish for this to be true, sometimes.
Somewhere, where I didn’t screwed it up,
Somewhere, where my love cared a bit.
I really wish,
For that somewhere.
Where he didn’t just smiled,
But said yes too.
Or somewhere, where we never met,
Somewhere, where love isn’t this hard.
Somewhere, where I can breath,
Without feeling this pain
For my long lost love.
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