Poem of the Month - July 2023

 
 
yesterday,  
6:48 p.m.  
 
a cat jumped  
from a couch  
to a window  
ledge and sat  
in the sun  
 
yesterday.  
6:48 p.m.  
 
two lovers yelled out,  
" I hate you!"  
and their lives will  
never be the same  
 
yesterday,  
6:48 p.m.  
 
an old woman living  
alone waited for the  
phone to ring. she
waited, and waited
 
yesterday,  
6:48 p.m.  
 
rain fell, and in a  
garden somewhere,  
flowers smiled  
 
yesterday,  
6:48 p.m.  
 
a factory closed  
for the last time  
and a hundred  
a fifty-two people  
lost their jobs  
 
yesterday,  
6:48 p.m.  
 
an easy operation  
went awry and a  
20 year old girl  
needlessly died  
 
yesterday,  
6:48 p.m.  
 
a car skidded off  
the road, landed  
on its roof and the  
driver walked away  
unscathed  
 
yesterday,  
6:48 p.m.  
 
a vacation of a  
lifetime was  
planned  
 
yesterday,  
6:48 p m.  
 
final arrangements  
were made for a
beloved old uncle
who lived a life
full of joy
 
yesterday,  
6: 48 p.m.  
 
there was first  
kiss given  
 
yesterday,  
6:48 p.m.  
 
a last goodbye  
was uttered  
 
yesterday,  
6:48 p.m.  
 
wars were waged, peace treaties  
signed, babies born, eulogies spoken,  
dreams realized, hopes crushed,  
there was laughter, there were  
tears, hate was shouted, love  
given freely, banquets served,  
hunger begging, kings in castles,  
tents on the street, fortunes  
made, pennies scraped together,  
celebrations of joy, a gathering  
of mourners, truth as sweet a  
honey slowly pouring, lies that  
flash flood the common good,  
the symphony of a single song  
bird sitting in a tree, a murder of  
crows plotting to take revenge  
 
yesterday,  
6:48 p.m.  
 
worlds were destroyed,  
universes discovered  
 
yesterday,  
 
at  
 
6:48 p.m.  
 
 
 
 

We should keep keep on laughing.
In the woods
the shadows of the leaves of the trees
play an odd lip synch over her forehead.
 
It is too far to get anywhere before night.
That is something I would think
and that there are dreams
she could finish before me.
 
Is it like a dead species pushed under our feet.
We walk through the sound of a chainsaw - things must be constantly
growing up here. If her voice was cut away I would have woods
and woods to tell.
 
One day,
we lay on the beach.
 
I want to laugh it all into the water.

 

My heart is broken
Shattered
There’s really not much left
Now I must put the pieces back
But I can’t, I hold my breathe

No matter how I put them back
They don’t fit like before
The pieces keep falling apart
I don’t give up, I try some more

Have you ever watched life pass you by?
As you sat and held back tears?
When you know you’ve given all of you
And in return you met your fears

You were left alone like always
He gave his heart to someone else
But you still love him, always will
And that choice welcomes you to hell

I hereby bequeath
All my writings
To my daughter
As i know i oughter
As no money
As it slipped
Haphazardly
Through my slippery fingers
Like water
Troth is spoken
No lies broken
She will inherit
Riches within my ink
Or so i'd like to think

by Jemia

As I look upon a beautiful illuminating sunrise    
Quietness across the stars from an ancient meteorite of turbulence energy, shooting by  
Cosmic polar shift of revelation foretold  
A bitter pill of crash landing, not even deep unto a cleansing found in the baptism of the sea  
On Earth, Hades’ cookery displaying the venom of a strange creed  
   
What man who know the stars cannot steer clear when turbulence has entered his realm knocking the universal key, he holds out the palm of his hand  
Too many scrambling façades, does not come with a blessed plan mortal man  
Twisted minds, too many voices of identity variations, leads to the blindness to recognize what the Creator has given no man can asunder, and I bow to uplifting in its reasoning  
My eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord  
I honor Gods of old, Kings of now, who never lose grip of their battle swords  
   
In reckoning of the day of a dark soul, a strangled hold caught in the silhouette of untapped divine source behind the dangling of his mane  
Lay your arms down in truth, raise it during eminent wars  
Not twist the throne you sit upon in pain  
I do not know what vessel clothed in life that brings discontent upon ancient footsteps   
For me to step around, over to avoid the stinging of acid rain  
Swords raised, may the grace of the gleaming tip never penetrate  
The only promise I have been given to me beyond the clouds, is to have faith and the patience to love when we become weary and our heart refuse to wait  
It is better to give assistance with honeyed words to someone’s else in the timing of their fate  
   
Where are the chariots’ thunder when hooves echoed across the majestic sky    
The ground shaken as an warrior have fallen to earth    
Climatic landing, who knows you in your rebirth  
I can no longer see or feel your worth  
Embracing whispers reassurance from the universe  
The intellect becomes distorted even my wings must retreat to console  
May the North Star guide you to the core of my inner glow    
And in the absence of time will it never reap hardships as it sows  
   
The Heavens are mightier than the sword  
Down here, you are as only big as the next word  
In this adaptation of life, mother against daughter, son against father and Earth and Heaven’s alliance no longer patrols  
Blistery winds no matter how the towering trees toil  
I cannot elevate to a place where my mind is already there  
   
The Heavens already knows how many strands upon my hair  
I am only bringing into life words to lessen the space of time where I have already breathed this air  
Misguided pride builds sand foundations on false nobility, heated temperaments, my universal sovereign uplifts to self-awareness and to attempt to eradicate fallen tears  
Calm the hearts when in doubt, fear  
   
Where would you rest knowledge at the hem of your garment mortal man  
A sacred scroll draws the rewards of honey across any vast land  
Man cannot live by bread alone, and cheap love bought with hard earned money, it never atones  
The voice of my femininity and reasoning must and always will sing earthly, lost and regained songs  
It is within my lineage from the blood that pumps through my veins, rooted in my Haitian Creole bones  
   
My throne does not move, it is for the insignia of my Rose ordained to be appreciated no matter where the hydrate goes    
I give drops to quench without regrets, without anger, or any concerns upon the palliative of my care  
I do not wade in low vibrations, high vibrations you will find me there  
My sacred chants are the appeasement from nine dimensions to give benedictions to weary souls  
No need for voice praise    
Just makes sure you read the fine print of its informative to take with you, be the model of its social amaze  
It keeps wisdom drifting on the wind, floating to you by streams  
The ravines where you will hear the soft whispers of Fairy dreams  
   
I do no curse to amuse, to abuse, I will humbly tame my disdain tongue before I reduce  
Mortal man we are in the war in the realm of time  
Mental genocide, mental confusion, and mental disunity is now the new political sublime  
Closing that meditated space of mine inhaling the fragrance of peace  
My inner shield to keep the serpents who siphon souls, mine is not ouroboros upon the snakes’ weave or will I pamper a mind like it’s a sought out toy in a land of make believe  
Knowledge drips from the tip of my tongue  
Hearts remain rooted, others cry wolf and run  
Heads bowed waiting for the casting of the Sun  
   
Serinity unto you softly spilled    
If the heart is faltered and the mind is froggish, it leaps bounds of discontent, detouring thy good will  
Tell me about the constellations, your feet are on soil nothing down here but sex, drugs, rock and roll, and live by the wrath, when malice, envy, jealous can no longer fit the bill  
In the aftermath, the cleanup, who shall sound the trumpet    
A dethroned prophet when the world cries in repent voice screaming out in the darkest hours unrelent  
   
False salvation within the comfort of society’s thighs  
Philosophers, Star Gazer’s voices unto the stratosphere for Proverbs ordained for man, woman, and child  
I am for truth and justice, and yes, it is of an arrogance  
The truth is not pretty, and a lie can be dressed in fables without repent  
What good is man if he cannot drown in the current of his own injustice, his own reflective ruse  
I am not the pawn to be moved  
My existence is always to seek, and learn the truth  
   
To oversee the vast components of my intellect  
Showing grace when the tempers of my land has been slaughtered, yet  
Divine intervention unto the cradle, infuse me in the light, time after time, the christening in its renewal, will be felt  
Allow my footsteps that walk in the valley of humbleness across the hands of time  
The world revolves, so I may have been in the company of your presence as we romanced in passion, tasting off each other’s skin, savoring the flavor like its vintage wine  
I do not question seasons that come into my life  
In the midst of meditation unto my Crown Chakra, I am Queen, Earth Mother, Mothe Nature, Yoruba Goddess, Venus, and many moons ago upon a throne, I was a Sire’s wife  
   
Felinity in the writing upon Egypt sacred walls  
Are you the Emperor, the Duke, the Earl, I have romanced the positive psyche of them all    
Compassion as I bow under grace to my last curtain call  
It is not time for earth echoes to falter you are the man who wears a crown of gold  
The bearer where our spiritual incantations need to breath from the relics, give cause to speak from the ancestry of old  
So many adversities to battle down here  
You must sharpen the blade and aim the spear  
   
I will see your enlightenment across the moon  
The nature of good deeds from the seal of prosperity makes my crown swoon  
Never in my quest to deafen the cries resonating from the polluted seas  
Giving comfort to humanity who suffers from a terminal disease  
My scepter and my orb shall always comfort me to pardon the sins of its reprieve  
   
Go in peace, bow in grace  
   
Selah

What can be said beyond that you
at least were always there,
and worked to keep the house in place
when it became nowhere.

I’ll call you dad until I’m dead,
which counts a lot, I think.
I’ve not been kind, but I’ll say this:
that “dad” was more than ink.

A name on some certificate,
like “Clacton Hospital”
and “mum”. That doesn’t mean much now
if it meant much at all.

I held your hand and told you that
you helped me stay alive,
and even if I lied a touch
I did it out of love.

The selfish, broken, cartoon boy,
so filled with outsized rage,
manoeuvred back to dad’s bedside
and helped him off the stage.