Words spoken
Gossip mills
Even nice ones
Poke jab ill will
of aging,
defying the option
over 50
or 40
or 30
yet wrinkle to wrinkle
the lines they settle
the dark spots
and every new crinkle
ever hear someone
tell you
replace the negative
words with positive
it’s a habit
to form to
rise above
the norm
the glum
and the down in the
dump days
now I hear what have you done
Botox restlyn what filler?
tummy tuck Brest lift
neck snip
no
replace the words vibrating low
in the air
or thoughts in my head when I look in the mirrow
to how beautiful
those loving eyes
my what they have seen
felt
cried
head to the woods feel the sun
cross my eyes
brisk walk in the streets
people watch
and smile
don’t
no time for blood pricked
from my arm to rejuvenate my skin
that’s what inversions are for
and pumping iron at the gym
Category: Uncategorized
-

You should see how good she looks
-
Lost In Locks
While after hour freedom includes hiking and ice skating, the warmth of the sun rays between the trees on my make-up free, sunscreened skin and the glide of making endless circles swishing around the ice to music pumping through arena speakers, it is the on-hour time of hair cutting that causes me to get lost in its rhythm.
Inhaling fresh outdoor tree hugging air or crisp and cold 40 degree rink steamed breath is refreshing, yet it is actually crafting a haircut, the flow of technique, where will each strand land, and how will I frame locks around the face, are what I truly lose myself in.
Lately I have grappled with my chosen profession as the toxins in products have increased I have debated a new career. Writing this reminds me of how I can concentrate on the cut and use mild lighteners for lifting lights before saturating with vibrant colors or remaining blonde. Continue my craft with intention. Challenge on.

-

Sticky
Writing the poems
My escape
Deal with
The everyday
You left me with
the squeak
of the door
needs to be replaced
a house now mine
how grateful for me
to hold
the responsibility
of these three young soles
lucky am I
they want to be with me
hold my hand rollerskating
still
the age of fifteen
dinner with friends
“mom sit with me”
wisdom teeth out
chuck the cash their way
they can’t actually
expect you to pay
“what am I supposed to do about it”
you say
when the kid now 18
misses the bus in the city
where another was stabbed
only two nights prior
but hey
they’ll be ok -

Sun Rises at Dawn
Aunt, godmother, protector
Religion aside
Birthday
Day before mine
Filled fathers shoes
absent
mothers sister
replaced
the presence
tutored math
tennis against the wall
coach for the softball
I could barely throw
pizza nights and
patience
an interest and mission,
what’s the word we use now
connection
breakfast with my kids
painted my walls
soup on the stoop
when the flu hit
us all
birthday cake
candles we blew out together
Virgo babies
and that middle name
mom gave me
after her sisters first
Dawn
patient
and kind to us all
you arrive in my dreams
guiding spirits
warm halo
gratitude
“first appearance of light”
so yeah we ride strong -

Date delema
Immediately you defined me
Characterized my existence
Put me in a category
For your sexual fantasy
goth, no
emo, club kid,
eh
oh rocker chick
that’s it
how we clashed
genres of rock
a generation apart
the dead,
the grunge, the soul,
and the funk
false narrative
it wasn’t enough
mistook the attention for love
common mistake
a play thing, a toy
you, my only joy
not
the narrative you desire
to tell others
how I suffocate
didn’t give space
when we both know
you’re the one
who needs to save face
from your family and friends
tell them I left
again
when literally
you pushed me away in the end. -

Failure lit
System failure
The school the big classes
The just let her pass
smarter than the average
slow reader
big imagination
never pays attention
day dreaming
lala land
what we didn’t know then
wanna be
actor director
controlling the scene
surviving
escaping some label
not the dumb blonde,
the learning disabled
graduate anyway
can’t pass to 101
the dummy class
the college course
a boyfriend
a job at the record store
“why don’t you do hair”
moms best words to me
graduate high color numbers
chemist who knew
passionate and physical
love my career
years later
dabble
acting classes
cross country excursion
summer nyc
the train ride reading
the journal writing
apply and get in
pass to lit 101
hurray
the f final class grade of yore
english 100 I never passed
yet I learned, I learned!
journalism major
forever explorer -
Blood Moon
Sunday the tears shed
I thought they disappeared
how much weight six months carried
within the last year
5,360 minutes
and that’s only the morning calls
not to mention the texting, the vacation, dinners out, hiking and three times skating…
my new best friend
dropped it hot
quick tempered
cords cut
cutting cords
this moon is meant for
I hear
place the water by the window
let go of what’s holding me back
make sense of all those tears
Ive managed not to call
when my stomach flutters
and my heart clasps tight
Your words
empty words you once said
of future, the home we could share
couldn’t be quicker,
How you pushed away
made it much easier
I smile
how I haven’t called out
to reach you,
ease the clarity of crazy
you call me.
You’re missing out. -

Heavenly Creature 🌈
Back city roads
Right, right, left
accident on the highway
traffic diverted,
again
2020
memory of a youth
gone too soon
our butterfly
of orange
glow for your soul
turn black
as we lost
your vibrant
rainbow, my friend
the chaos
around us
ignored by our connection
that night
you saw me, you saw me
dinner in the city
the buzz of the others
falling drunken
yelling loudly
we sat quiet
what was the chance
side by side
they seated us,
circumstance
of different generations
spirit sisters
activate
time stood still
in my heart, my friend
creative outlet
big hearted
rebels of such
shut out for the same
self expression
they celebrated
years later when the
money rolled in
namaste my friend, namaste