I am starlight
Born of ether and endless wonder
I am what you dream of
In moonless nights
When the dark skies swirl
With the infinite knowledge of galaxies
Hidden in my eyes
While silver cords of desire hold you
Closer in the luminous circle of my arms
And my smile, mysterious as the cosmos
Has you fixed, in orbit, around me
Held not by the gravity of my hands
But by the irresistible undefinable energy
Of fascinating constellations
Pulsating, coursing, radiating
Within and through me, burning like sunlight
Making you come to life
Giving meaning to your existence
In the unfathomable universe of my being
(Image from Smite Forums)
I felt you hold my hand
While I closed my eyes
As your warmth claimed me tonight
I listened to your heartbeat
While the whole world stood
In stillness, and faded away
Beyond time, beyond this day
To a place where we can be
Completely – just you and me.
And as I let my hair down
And draw you in
Allow you within
To where no one has ever been
I know you will remain the same
And you will hold me close
When I lay my head on your chest
As your arms enclose me and allow me to rest
Knowing you are here and I am home
And my tired heart can cease to roam
For I hear it in your voice, see it in your eyes
That although, I may have gotten lost for a while
I am safe now, and my soul surrenders
To the familiarity of your smile.
Note: Artwork was taken from favim.com
I know somehow
When I close my eyes
I will see you
And touch your face
In that in-between place
Where time and reality recedes
I will see you smile
And feel my heartbeat rising
Under the touch of your hand
I will find new meaning.
I know somehow
I’ve seen you
Even beyond this existence
Even before this journey of discovery began
After everything has been said and done
I’ve always known
I’d come home to you.
(Image is not mine, but came from Pinterest)
I haven’t written in a long time, and last night, while looking up at the moon, this poem suddenly came knocking at the door. I decided to sit down and have coffee with her. She told me of people who shine so brilliantly on the outside, seeming to live fantastic and expensive lives, when in reality, there is nothing within them but darkness and brokenness.
“But, they have lived with these lies for such a long time, you see, blinded by the false light they emit, that they themselves do not know who they are and what is real anymore.” The poem explained to me patiently while pointing out the loneliness of existence for the people she was talking about. “Learn to look past their expensive clothes, their Instagram posts, and their projected lifestyles. Remember, one of your famous poets once said, All that glitters is not gold. Look past the brilliance of their smiles. There is nothing beyond, but hollow spirits stumbling around in the darkness. They are dying in their loneliness.”
“How sad.” I said. “Is there nothing that could be done for them?”
“Only a light infinitely brighter than theirs, that is true, steadfast, and beyond mortal strength could save them.” She quietly said as we both gazed up at the heavens. After a period of shared silence, she turned to me and asked, “Now, are you willing to write this truth?”
I smiled and replied, “Must you still ask? I obey.” And so, last night, the poem and her wisdom flowed from the tip of my pen and were set free into reality.
The moon looks like a broken nail
Tonight it scratches across the sky
Shredding up clouds in its wake
As if saying to the world below
Hey, look at me
I am here, I am important
But the people slept
Cuddled in one another’s arms.
How sad to be the moon
Alone in its brilliance
And as the day turns
Its solitary light diminishes
Among a family of stars.
The Minds Journal, an international online journal, featured my poem, “In the Name of the Mother”. Sharing the link here: https://themindsjournal.com/in-the-name-of-the-mother/
I am deeply honored. To God be the glory.
I am haunted by a ghost.
She sits by my side.
Whispers at my ear, all day
and I have to listen to what she says.
I carry her on my back,
side-splitting heaviness giving way to madness.
And she smiles at me, knowing
that I will never get rid of her.
And I will helplessly end up seeing
how she gives flesh to my heartbreaking fears.
She tortures me with her words,
a knife brutally stabbing me,
by smiling and recounting
how he smiled at her
whispered “I love you” to her ear.
How he moaned when they made love.
How he grabbed her breasts
and squeezed her hips as he plunged
roughly, sometimes tenderly into her.
She will laugh and slash out,
letting me know,
how he took her out on dates
drank wine and laughed at her jokes.
How afterwards they would share a kiss
as his eyes gazed at her tenderly
and his hands softly, ever so softly,
touched her face under the light of the moon.
She will purr softly to my ears,
as she cuts me deeply,
and tell me how his cigarette smells on her skin
and how she would dress up prettily for him,
as he says how beautiful she is
and how lucky he is to be with her.
Then, she will pull out the knife from my flesh,
hand it to me and say,
So, now you know. Come, sit, and think.
Do you think he loves you or me?
And blood bleeds from every word she speaks
and my flesh is torn apart at the seams.
Come, she says, do you think he’ll forget?
And my heart drops to the floor
numb, bloody, barely beating
as she picks it up and toss it around
like a toy that has no purpose or meaning.
Really now? She says, do you think
you could ever get rid of me?
When I am all that you would ever feel and see.
Here, she says, take the knife.
Use it on yourself, end the pain, and be free.
And so I stand up.
What did the poem say? Bloody, but unbowed.
Yes, I tell her, you are all that.
Beautiful, sexy, and meaty.
But I too can be equally feisty.
I took the knife from her hands.
Tell me, I slashed out at her,
Were you there during the difficult times?
When we were barely living on a dime
When he was nothing and no one
When he had no money in his pockets
No title on his head
No flashy car to go around in.
Would you have looked at him twice then?
I stabbed at her and said,
Would you have survived the days we had nothing to eat?
Only canned fish and vegetables, each day,
each passing arduous day.
Then go to work with holes in our shoes,
And yet smiling at each other,
drawing strength from the love in his eyes
that would somehow, I know, see me through.
I plunged the knife through her chest, and whispered,
Have you seen him at his darkest?
When he would breakdown and cry
and snap and shout,
when things didn’t work out.
Have you seen him go silent in one of his moods?
Yet I would embrace him, and accept his totality.
Without question, take in his reality.
I looked at her in the eyes and asked,
Are you the mother of his child?
Did he ever tell you that,
You are his life and his meaning?
That all he ever wants was to keep you happy and smiling?
She answered, softly and weakly, “No”.
I rose up to walk away, and I told her,
You can have him. You can go.
You have nothing I need.
Nothing I fear.
For I know,
at the end of it all,
I am everything. I am enough.
And it may take time, but I will rise again.
Made stronger, wiser, and better by this pain.
I reclaim my mother’s name.
Syllable by syllable.
Letter by letter.
I reach out and lay hold of it.
This name was forged upon
the blood of women.
Generations upon generations
who stood on their own
withstood the fear of being alone
fought for their ground
for their right to speak and be heard
to own their soul and their words
to be wounded and stay alive
to bleed and yet choose to survive.
Yes, this woman, this name
forged in their blood
I claim with no shame.
And across no man’s land
I join my fate with them.
Now, I understand.
Hear me roar!
As I dig myself out of the pit,
you buried me in
to hide away your sins.
You fed sand into my mouth,
so I can speak only what you wish to hear.
Poured sand into my eyes,
so I will be blind to your affairs.
Shoveled sand unto my skin,
So I will be numb to my own despair.
But I say enough!
And now I rise.
Now, I stand.
In defiance against the burning sand
of this barren, unforgiving land.
Now, I speak
with the strength of women who bore me.
I refuse to fall victim, enough with your lies.
Now, I see
the truth with their eyes and enter the light.
I reject your snares and turn away from the night.
Now, I feel
the beautiful intricacies of my thoughts and feelings.
I welcome my broken self and the peace that it brings.
I am the daughter of women.
I am a child of their womb.
And with their help, I will not succumb.
I will pick up the broken pieces.
Sit down with them.
Listen to their voices across the age.
As I weave my story with theirs
within this circle
within this sacred space
of affirmed existence
I am finally reborn
to guiltlessly celebrate
my true essence.
The rain fell on the car
on the ground, around us
like the beating of a hundred drums,
heralds of the spirits to come.
For today is the day of the dead
and the heavens opened up
to bless the souls
of those who came before us,
or perhaps to shed tears
for the mortal coils and fears
of those who still walk and taste
the dust of this earthly fate.
For in the end,
are we not all stardusts?
Children of the sun
glowing ever so briefly
shedding our light to those who need us
before fading into memory,
swallowed by the past
where moments are recalled from darkness
by the light of candles, so brilliant
burning for each life lived
sparks of consciousness
against the void of existence, defiant
dancing against the rain
standing tall and proud
in the midst of mud and dirt.
And when the wind blew
the fertile fragrance of earth
swirled around and filled me through.
It made me cry.
For in that moment
I remembered them in their glory
of celebrated flesh and vibrant lives.
Scent mingled with memories.
Memories turned into tears.
And suddenly, I felt the ties of generations,
the bonded weight of combined years.
The pictures were taken from various sources in the net. These images are not mine.