Official DUP NAPOWRIMO (National Poetry Writing Month) 2017

vandalism ix
23.04.17.    poem 23 of 30

iii.
almost a full rotation of terra firm
around infernal fire,
a montage of light & dark
& illusions of progress
of days & nights passing unhindered
by wounds
time can't heal, emotions that wouldn't
heed the call to pause & reassess
the stasis.
i stopped to breathe & found that
my lungs were no longer by my
lack of understanding, you were not
some puzzle to solve, just a lesson
i didn't yet want to acknowledge.

ii.
the painful silence taught me to find my voice.
i had not spoken with my own tongue
for too long
& had forgotten the quiet resonance of
my little girl tone
so at odds with the lush curve between breast & hip.
you tried to mute the dichotomy under my skin,
hush essential self
until i fitted a form, pressed into the
unnatural dimensions of someone i could never be.

i.
i birthed myself in one pivotal moment
kairos noted & answered by Him
who remains my point of worship.
goodbye you.

April 23--The Meat Grinder

I saw it there, dust shrouded, attached
to an old wood bench;  the hand-crank
meat grinder, among things of old.

Someone's barn, it had been, and
farmhouse--perhaps they left for
fairer lands and a better place, but
their presence lingers, like
James Dean's famous pose--unforgettable,
burning images in the mind, of a life
in simpler times, scented with
the wild roses
that heartily still grow in
unkempt ruins.

Others are searching with me, estate
pickers, hoping for gold, but
I only want a feeling--a memory
to come alive, from photographs
of my childhood, those few
moments when my world was
at peace
in Mummu's house.

I take the meat grinder, for it
reminds me of canned ham and
pickles
cranking through the gears, drooling
out like pink spaghetti, to be stuffed
into finger rolls.

It becomes part of my pile of treasures
to take in an effort to recreate
something
from the past, something unexplainable--
dear people, I will respect your
belongings.

Clear skies and hot
sun
enliven my senses, and the grass
feels as it did,
so long ago, when
my soul was far older than
it is, now.

SENECA

Any story can be told as scandal or glory
Choose a struggle adversary and ending
Handle both with detachment old friend
For the author was not you
The actor need not be you
And the coin never worthy

Choose a love or at least a life you love
And choose a path truer to your steps
Not driven by stick, drum stick or tavern
But by your better self
Pitched against the fury
Of a wrong that is worthy

And failing finding that
To be happy that that is that

XXIII. Experience: Integration Phase 3
           Elementary School, Grades 2-6
           (Northern England)

I.

Passports and jet contrails, cabin
pressure and air sickness, but before
that was tears, farewells; America a
dissipating dot from a plane window.

The cow in the old barn engorged
with warm milk I'd never again taste.
Piglets in the pen rooting sow's tits;
horses beyond the barbed wire fence.

The red gulley and family dinners,
overalls rolled to the knees, bare feet
pigtails and poverty, "a not so mobile
mobile home" left for a can with wings.

But a new Life where more than animals
would understand. Hope became my
luggage packed with wishes and dreams;
Life would be different now, and Love exist.

For the next 12 hours of flight I felt excited
about Life, and could barely get any sleep.

II.

"Yankee go home! You're not wanted here!"

In that instant a transformation occurred;
I felt a coat of fear locked by insecure
doubt cordon off reality, wedge itself
between the fragility of Hope and Belief.

And if things couldn't get any worse...
I was born on Guy Fawkes Day. I won't
deny that for the first time in my 8-year-old
Life I wanted to blow an entire country up.

I wanted to go back to where Whites
hated me for Loving Blacks, and Blacks
hated me for being White because at
least animals understood what Love was.

When you suddenly feel a million miles
from something you've always believed,
and nobody looks like family, you realize
all you have left to Trust in is your Faith.

You get tired of being ridiculed, so evolve
even more into someone you aren't.
Refuse to let them smell your fear; become
a Tearless Warrior all unto yourself.  
...

April 23, 2017

CYCLE III: Water

Deluge

Though rain unceasing purchased seas and sky,
Baptizes all, that beg both shake and self anew.
Within its night invest, can be a lullaby
Or melancholic storms’ bought unsought dew.
As deluge washes clean our outer stain,
A streaming night can wash the heart as well.
A flowing purse, the match to gale’s refrain,
With wail’s replace of thunder’s banking tell.
And though the dark may tender swallowed squalls,
The dawn will shop new light as cash’ed hope.
Brings on, the tears’ spent grant, a new enthrall,
As night storms’ disengage, buys day’s elope.
As rain’s deplete gifts sign to morn’s relief,
Warm love will gain in clean heart, hopes’ belief.

Hoping I am in time.  Lost internet yesterday.  It came back today while I was out.  Ugh.

Perseverance

There is a strength
In resilience
Amid turmoil
We gain endurance

Bending until
We almost break
Stabilizing ourselves
After the quake

Battered not beaten
We survive it all
Moving forward
Even in a crawl

Something breathes
At our darkest hour
Inhaling deeply
We muster willpower

Never a failure
If we again rise
In trying once more
There is no demise

Seeing our scars
As an indication
A simple reminder
What we rose from

mel44 said:Hoping I am in time.  Lost internet yesterday.  It came back today while I was out.  Ugh.

You're fine! Press on!

Harmony

I know I must feel
In order to move
Powerful emotions
Some disapprove

Grief and anguish
Elation and passion
Mood uncontrolled
Fosters a reaction

Unable to sculpt
Simply to please
Being untrue
Feeds my disease

An uneasy existence
No need to relate
Allowing me to be
I would appreciate

These words may read
As sheer misery
But be reassured
Of an inner harmony

#24? Correct, Mel? ^

Hey guys, can we start numbering. We're so far into this now it's difficult for me to go back through 40+ pages to count when you ask. I'm doing my best to keep a record, but I'm just as worn out as you! Especially going through these pages!"

Thank you! We're almost home!! 🏡 ❤

Angst

The other night
I dreamt
I was a monkey
four fingers on my left hand
another for the
punk in me
the junkie
found my raincoat
on the floor
so she didn't want
to fuck me
licked up the iodine
from the wounds
where she cut me
called me a child
cause on her wet
I liked to hydroplane
I crashed
then I smiled
cut my teeth
on the Novocain
drive-through
tattoo in the dark
live in a cemetery grave
your folks call
a trailer park
sneak out to see me
with the weed
& the blood
show me the scars
while we do it in the mud
hide your cocaine
in the curry
in a hurry
to the play-mart
they found you
in a dumpster
thought you were smart
called you a hot-dog
mustard on your shirt
six feats over now
worms eat the dirt
wear my skull
as a mask
for the sake
of society
they pay for the lemonade
as I take a pee

04232017

Cows

How versatile are cows
They are gangly and ugly
Yet they are important
Firstly we eat them
Meat is meat, as are we
Yet we eat almost everything
From the cheeks to the tail
All slaughtered clinically
I mean they don’t suffer
Am I right, no suffering?
It’s just the nerves
That make them flail about?
Moooooooooo!

We so want to be cows
We wear their skin
Leather boots, shoes
Handbags, purses, hats
Jackets and dog leads
Where would S&M be
Without good old leather
And my gimp suit
Moooooooooo!

But here is the strange one
We all breast feed from a cow
We are suckling a cow
We might as well get our
Mouth right on the teat
And suck like a maniac
What other species suckles
On another species
As an alternative to
Killing them, drip dry
A cow might be stupid
But humans are just weird
Moooooooooo!

For most people
Saving the Cow
Will never be an issue
If they laid eggs
And pissed whiskey
And shat chocolate
They would be perfect
And slaughtered
In much greater numbers
And nobody would care
Moooooooooo!

lEGAL iATLIAN

Pasta was fairly good
creamy
Conversation was intense
The waitress
well typically a pain in the ass
but no fault
of self

Strangest of feelings
kept throwing my eyes
from the view
though it was a lovely view
kept having the ridiculous need
to look over
my shoulder

I giggled
took a peek

A well groomed man sat alone
behind me
dressed in an uncomfortably casual
look
He was alone
but not used to not sharing a table

You can see when they are
married
but the other half is way
it's like
the food gobbles itself
the drinks sit until
the bubbles commit suicide
and the table cloth
gets so uncomfortable
it leaves
with out them

I turned back
smiled
looked into her eyes
mine just stayed gray
The urge to giggle
was knocking my knees
against the cold steel
table leg
my feet kicking out
in their humor

I glanced back at that mustache
one last time
memorized the blue jersey

The voice in my head
said
"remember when your lawyer
did that
so you could cast the past
in cement"

Then I nodded at my self in agreement
and waited for the
legal beagle to leave

And on the 24th day we ate!

Ahavati said:#24? Correct, Mel? ^

Hey guys, can we start numbering. We're so far into this now it's difficult for me to go back through 40+ pages to count when you ask. I'm doing my best to keep a record, but I'm just as worn out as you! Especially going through these pages!"

Thank you! We're almost home!! 🏡 ❤

Will do ... I'm at 24 and will make it a point to number 25 - 30.