Moon in A Box, or Life Story 4

He was enchanted

By her luminous glow

And sought at once

To possess her.

He reached up high

Pulled her down low

And put up a fence

Around her.

She was no longer worshipped

No one admired

Her grace, her magic,

Her splendor.

No songs were sung

No petitions, no prayers

Only darkness

Confusion, despair.

The moon had been plucked

From her beloved sky

Captured

And put in a box.

Never again would she

Call in the tides

Or cast ocean waves

Upon rocks.

But she was the moon!

A goddess, by right!

And she simply refused to

Give up the night.

So she kissed him goodbye,

Restoring herself

Among the stars

In the heavenly realms.

Now when a man is enchanted

With our goddess moon

And bids her

Please come down

She winks and she shines

And she sweetly declines

Possession,

Preferring her crown.

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contrarywise

Sometimes time runs backwards

And sometimes beggars do choose

Sometimes silence is deafening

And sometimes to win is to lose.

Rainbows aren’t always colorful

Stars don’t always shine

Sometimes lies are the only truth

The sourest grapes make the sweetest wine.

Sometimes the day feels like night time,

And sometimes we sow what we reap

Sometimes the hymn is not sung in church

Sometimes the wolf is a sheep.

Sometimes insanity grounds us

And sometimes darkness is light

Sometimes love doesn’t conquer all

Our blindness allows us clear sight.

 

 

 

Inspiration by the Numbers

I have written 198 posts on this blog.  (This will be 199.)

83 of them have been since January of this  year.

115 were from 2012-2018.

Averaging 19 posts per year for that time.

This year I have written nearly 12 posts per month.

That’s a 361% increase in production.

Not counting the things I don’t post.

It erupts out of me like lava, what can I do?

83 posts this year with 5 months to go.

I suppose I should collect them in an anthology.

A coffee table book.

One million notes on Springsteen… and counting.

 

 

Storytell(h)er

Tell me a lie.

Tell me the most preposterous lie you’ve ever told anyone

Make me believe it.

Tell me a truth.

Give me the most authentic declaration that has ever passed your lips

Make me question it.

Sing me a song that’s so good the melody haunts my dreams. Write the lyrics so lovely I mourn to listen.

Dedicate it all to me.

Lay it bare – just there –

Hidden in the words they don’t read.

hai u, haiku

You cannot ignore a thing

And call that healing

Avoidance does not bring strength.

 

No.

I have had my ass grabbed in meetings.

My breasts the subject of conference calls.

I have been shushed, interrupted, and disrespected.

Twice I have been assaulted.

Both were men I trusted.

And yes, my scars run deep and no, it’s no excuse.

It is, though, the truth.

So when a man I love tells me to trust him

I’m already a little bit wary

Stepping out on to the ledge, will you really carry

Me

Or will I fall again, break apart, hold my own heart?

What you can’t understand is how hard I’ve fought

Just to be treated as a person, an equal.

But we are not colleagues, roomies, friends.

There is no equal, that’s all just pretend.

We are simply beguiling predator and his hapless prey.

So please, stay away.

I can assemble my life without this kind of help.

Kindly walk yourself to the door and out

Keep your hands off my ass and

My name out of your mouth

And just

Leave.

 

 

 

In Response to a Letter I Shouldn’t Have Read

The Popliteal Fossa

Some guys say knee pit

What the back of the knee’s called.

[Also, I hate you.]

Which is to say, I don’t hate you at all.

(m)USED

Three people this month.

Three people took my ideas.  Plagiarized. Pilfered. Stole.

Three people who consider themselves upstanding citizens

Who use words like “Never” and “Always”.

If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,

I am sincerely, offensively, flattered.

What can I do?  Is it my fault?

I am continuously moving forward,

Working on boundaries and my own dreams,

Not talking to anyone or sharing anything

Can’t risk it. Everything I give gets taken.

I don’t want to be your muse.

I don’t want to be used anymore.

siren [poem draft]

My hips move like ocean waves

Pulsing, crashing, gyrating

To some ancient rhythm only I can hear

Smooth, inviting, life-giving and

Life-sustaining

I could kill you if I wanted to.

 

My song calls you out into the depths

Curious, enchanted, beguiled.

Wading in my waters and forgetting yourself

Fluid, calming, immense and

Passionate

Abandon hope, all who enter.

 

Cling to me, swim away from shore

Dance with me on the ocean floor

 

I want to drown you

I want to drown you

I want to drown you.

 

thank you note

Thank you for being the one,

For illuminating the dark places

Inside me

And for showing me

I deserve more.

Thank you for being the one,

For opening my eyes to truth

About myself

And for pushing me

To grow.

Thank you for being the one

Who shone brighter than the north star

In my nights

And for showing me

What love is.