Waxing poetic on thoughts, theory & the times
What magick did I make as a child;
Undercovers imaging the future?
Let me remember this art,
To manifest a future in which I
Am loved, by one I can trust,
A romantic and life partner who will never hurt me.
Beautiful life with cracks
Where the light gets in
And out.
May it be so.
(Post relocated from my Thepurplepaintedbutterfly.wordpress.com blog)
As a child
Kids tauntingly called me,
for reasons I could not see,
“Tina Turner”.
I balked at the comparison
That I could not understand
Because
That
Was not my name.
I scoffed
Because I was just a child,
And not, however old the singer was then;
I hated it.
I hated it because
I couldn’t understand
What being black and beautiful
Even as a child meant
And yes, often
It meant gazes of judgment from foreign eyes
About who and what I was
It mean negative perceptions
But it also meant the good.
And now I appreciate my mother’s response
That the tears of this child could not fathom then.
“They called me Tina Turner, again”
“Yes”,
And I was reminded that I had just been
awarded,
an unintentional compliment;
Of comparison to one of the
Greatest of all time:
The astonishing gorgeous,
Talented,
Resilient,
Powerhouse
Who is
Tina Turner.
“Why not be proud?”
Here,
In the dark,
Dear one,
There is peace,
And most often quiet,
But you are missing nothing,
But my audible silence
As I write this poem,
As I think these thoughts,
As I coax myself toward slumber
And alas,
Once my eyelids have grown heavy,
And my writing utensil drops,
I close up “shop,”
And I too
Go
To sleep
This spirit has always craved mystery
Of trying for the seemingly impossible;
And yet it fears failure
At the end of a long game;
It fears erasure,
Fears unsaved progress,
Lost
But that was then,
This is now
Game Genie,
Changed it all,
Shifted the odds,
Way back when,
But it was never really the game
or the game system
That was at stake;
It was the mind,
The controller of the hands
holding the game control,
It was the mind shuffling between
Levels of life,
Competition in game,
At school,
At home,
From which friends were those
Fellow players
Sifted out and held close,
For keeps.
Along the way
The cartridges get dusty,
The disks scratch,
The software glitches,
We become tired,
We get distracted
We stop playing, because
Life…
Our fingers need only work the buttons once more,
To remember the sequences,
To do it just
Right
To beat that Boss,
To escape that trap,
To remember it was never
About winning it all
On the first try,
Unless you had “backup”,
I, you, we all
Were never meant to game alone,
But we got older
And we saved our games
And some tucked them away,
Forgetting
Each other
We got older
Our relationships got complicated
And became new games,
Complete with bosses
And real became fake, and fake real
Never mind the console,
Or the title
truthfully,
We are all trying to beat it,
This epic game.
We get minor victories,
And the harsh truth being
We will all eventually get
Game Over
In radically accepting
My eventual,
final KO,
eventually,
I strive to make my own sequences;
Reset to replay my favorite games;
Reconnect with my backup;
And break the rules
That bound me to a fear of failure
If I am going to one day end
I can not
live the game
Afraid to even play.
“Version 3.6”
I wrote this long before I even knew what it would feel like
to be loved and pulled in a way that…
or wait, I did know. I knew in a juvenile version,
a purified, clear love
that had no expectations
no demands. and here we are
so very close and yet so far,
in all directions,
cycling closer moment by moment.
i’m impatient. How do you wait
when so so very close?
i feel your calm,
and humor in seeing me squirm
for something i am so positive you’ve known
for so very, very long
and you soothe me, not to worry
“Desire”
no harm no foul,
all in its right time.
that the way love goes
its not about the phsyical
alone
its about something that transendsc all we know so well
all we know to well
and here we are in this virtual space
and i know
the desire was never a sin
it was a symptom of the pull
of being so close. often derailed,
malfunctioned by lose wires
“Broke”
you and I
we each broke
in and now we see the path we’ve traversed,
our shuttle to nowhere but each other.
could you drive in your sleep and find me?
dont, but
You’ll pass familiar attrations,
ones your history past
and past has imbued in your mind with memory,
but now its time to smash
smash the pain,
and realize those memories
were just place markers for everything else
“Bodies”
your loves are real
and syphoned into different bodies
for different purpose,
patience, love
it is what you think,
not all things you think are true,
this one is.
and you know
both do
we
both do.
“Game lost”
funny is cute and damn
I must make it so hard
to keep back all you know.
this is the slowest
most excruciatingly tender end
to a game,
i’ve already lost
as soon as I remembered
and thats always been the goal,
to lose, to let it go, to find
yourself in another body,
and together to grow
of ourselves
“UP”
together grow
ourselves
by raditaitng the want, the need, the care,
the love, the 2 am, 3 am fixation
in to a powerful tangle of ecstacy,
patience,
we’re both so good at that,
too good…
but times almost up.
times up.
that scares you
it terrifies me
how much needs to tell us
this is it?
and if its not…
it is.
“Children’s Wishes”
we manifested this as children,
before and when we knew each other,
child prayers, spells, wishes
are the most powerful,
you begged me to STAY
to know you
“Higher”
and you watched,
every word flow from my mouth
and pen,
before we both understood any of what it meant,
before we both “woke”
body, mind or soul,
we were each others alarm,
sirene you sang,
and it got me
higher
“Forgot to Hide”
i sang to you
and I forgot
why I might want to hide,
and here I am doing the same,
with fingers and words,
and I want,
and I need,
and i desire
and I want you to have everything
in the same
and new capacities,
“Beautifully Grown”
you made yourself
everything beautiful you wanted to be,
and I made myself the same,
of and for me
because that it just who we were,
and you fell
in all ways to the reality
and the possiblity of future,
and then you saw me
all
grown
up…
“DAMN”
and damn…
DAMN!
no other 4 letter word captures
the breathtaking shock
and what every fantasy
of yours has been wrangled
and poured into one body,
one embodied soul that you fell for
in a different time and place,
as a spirit, mind, body.
“dimples “
Seeing that smile makes me
feel like a child again,
and points me to eyes
eyes that I cannot figure out the color,
chocolate moonstone eyes
that color change
everything you
is a testatment
to all the things i wanted for self,
or admired in
a dream love….
right down
to the wetsuit
And my favorite animal
how better to lure the Oshun?
1.24.2023
Innocent desire
no harm, no foul,
all in its right time.
That’s the way love goes
It’s not about the physical
alone
It’s about something that transcends all we know so well
all we know too well
and here we are in this virtual space
and i know
the desire was never a sin
it was a symptom of the pull
of being so close
But then
often derailed,
I wrote this long before I even knew what it would feel like
to be loved and pulled in a way that…
or wait, I did know. I knew the juvenile version,
In innocence
a purified, clear love
that had no expectations
no demands.
and here we are
so very close, and yet so far,
in all directions,
cycling closer moment by moment.
I’m impatient. How do you wait
when so, so very close?
i feel your calm,
and humor
in seeing me squirm
for something i am so positive you have known
for so very, very long
and you soothe me, not to worry
malfunctioned
by scarred and loose wires
or
Overwhelmed
By crossing hearts
She of Letters 