Between Help and Hurt

It’s a gloomy day,

And it suits me well.

My cares are heavy.

The ones that raise you

Are people too

With struggles

And aspirations for happiness

That may be yinging your yang

In an ugly way.

May be like forgotten legs

Being put in hoes

And the overgrowth revolting.

With support waters away,

I am fragile.

I do not know what to do.

I do not know how to help

Someone who does not know

They need help.

I do not know how to help

Someone who does not know

How to use my help.

I do not know how to help

Someone who does not know

How wonderful they are.

I do not know how to help

Someone who does not know

What their options are.

And where does that leave me?

Somewhere lost between help and hurt.

Somewhere that is dark, with the trees too high.

Somewhere lying on the pavement,

And not caring what happens in the next few hours.

Somewhere virtual and yearnful.

Somewhere very lonely.

Copyright © 2014

Bikinis

I always set you up for failure.

Guilty until proven innocent,

For now, at least.

I think my evolution to protect myself and my expectations,

Has gone too far.

But I can’t catch it.

I smother you.

And then I dissect your stories,

For proof of what I know.

But don’t actually know at all.

Why do I care who they are?

When you come home and say, “I would freak out!”

At the out of context, hypothetical idea of my departure.

What proof am I looking for?

Who put this need here?

Society?

Well, my man is different and you can make a cookie out of him.

But you can torpedo my mind with doubt,

And I hate you for it.

These billboards need to shut up already.

These role models of women need to pull down their skirts,

And stop kissing the camera.

Sometimes, I wish we could escape,

And roll along a beach,

Where the sand is too fine to grab on,

And the water too lovely to part with.

There, I would be certain.

Until a bikini walks by.

I need to let go.

I need to breathe.

I need to remember he chose me.

And he continues to choose me.

I need to choose to believe him.

And get some really good blinders for those bikinis.

Copyright © 2014

Village

Holistic, purifying, investigation.

Through this journey,

I have unearthed more stones,

Than years of traveling.

Each stone hosting varying difficulties to pry.

Like a Turkish coffee,

The back of each stone,

Proudly reveal a map carved by remnants of the soil,

Soil hugging on to the rock as clues and defiance.

Each collection of stone,

Yields confidence and security in the definitions it alludes to.

I now have a detailed 15-D map.

Of where I have been,

And where I want to go.

Where each stubborn cobweb is,

And the individual properties they contain.

How thick,

How resistant,

How expansive,

How deep.

Outstretched fingers extend as far as I can see.

My tool bag is overflowing,

My conviction is bubbling,

My sight is clean as the rivers of the untouched forests.

I am ready for this new chapter,

Honesty of self has been redefined.

Institutional issues are finally contextualized.

I have power.

I have knowledge.

I have drive.

I have direction.

I have love.

I have so much love for this guided archeology.

I have discovered so many bones, and pots, and plants,

And now I am starting to piece together the story.

My story.

The one my mind has driven away,

But my body and my intuition have never forgotten.

A community has brought clarity and family.

Juxtaposition demonstrating the bright colors in us all.

I feel me more, now that I know others,

In the darkest of topics,

In the most personal emotions.

In the deeply buried reasonings.

Because of the equal vulnerability and exposure,

I felt safe.

Because of the unconventional subjects,

I felt challenged.

Because of the courage and tenderness,

I felt at home.

Strength brought through diversity.

Like genetic evolution,

We all are bringing a different blueprint to the trading post,  

With the collective, we have it all.

In addition to the perspective to choose which aspects to keep and which to discard.

They say, it takes a village.

I finally understand that wisdom,

And cherish this village. 


Copyright © 2014

Sheer Black Lace

As a kid,

I imagined myself as a lion,

Beautiful and strong.

Alluring gait and sharp claws.

Strutting through the savanna,

On a steamy, hot plain.

Caring for my young,

And not taking any bullshit.

As a kid, I imagined myself as a sincere queen,

Ruling over a kingdom,

With emotional wisdom,

And chosen participants.

As I ripened,

The perception persisted and widened.

I evolved to be the neck,

The support,

The dependable,

The enduring.

In my undisputed environment of equality,

Women hold the trump card.

Women are deep and mysterious,

Layered and ever-connected.

Women are to be worshiped, majestic and precious.

Women are courage and power.

Power to seduce,

Power to make love when they want,

Power to be vulnerable and in control.

I was desired, far before I desired.

I was generous and curious.

I was naïve, but careful.

I realized my affect,

And got drunk with the capacity.

After the first backlash had scarred,

My heart was walled and pounding.

Enlarged and enraged,

I craved unconscious revenge on men,

And collected hearts along the way.

I remember strip poker, and mermaid hair.

Hot tubs, with their disguising bubbles,

And sneaking out to the school’s jungle gym,

With only the light of the moon,

To meet the equally meddlesome.

As a freshman.

I was stimulated for the first time,

In a way that I yearned.

I was given the realization that I hungered:

I finally challenged the attraction of others, with my own.

A mistress for a night,

With a destined marine.

Amazed by my passion,

And surprised by his hesitation,

He respected my body,

Despite his longing to proceed.

My kiss communicated what I was ready for,

And my hands baited at what could be.

To this day,

I choose to control and tease.

Dance and savor in the desire, I cultivate in others.

Sheer black lace,

A dress that hugs just where it should,

And a man that begs with his body.


Copyright © 2014

Wonder of the Storm

(Full Disclosure: this poem is for adults only and includes intimate activities)

I slowly walk into the room.

Pointing my toes as I step.

Feeling each muscle tighten and release.

Seductively gliding closer to you.

Rhythmically approaching.

Building suspense with each earthly connection.

I start to sway my hips,

Close my eyes,

And move my hands into the air as snakes.

Finding security in the darkness,

I hear the horns blowing,

And I can sense your desire rising.

I am in control,

Yet vulnerable.

I have you seated.

Patiently waiting.

Anxious.

Excited.

Hungry.

I start to lightly touch your arms.

Maintaining the beat.

I run my fingers through your hair and begin to pull,

Gently reminding you that I can do whatever I want,

And I want to please you,

Tease you,

And have you do the same to me.

I slip out of my dress,

Revealing my lace bra and panties.

My hair is a mess of curls,

My eyes are smoky and intense.

I climb on to your lap and wrap my arms around your neck.

I tilt my head back and roll my body.

You start to kiss my chest and sweetly rub my back.

You pick me up and put me up against the wall.

Aroused by your new dominance,

I nibble your ear and bite just slightly as you unsnap my bra.

You passionately toss me over to the bed,

And crawl onto me.

You gaze straight into my eyes as you approach.

I watch your chest oscillate and mouth open.

You kiss my belly,

Then take my underwear off with your teeth,

And tease me with your tongue.

I reach to touch you as well.

You are strong and sensual.

I need to have you.

I reach for a condom and slowly roll it on.

Once you are inside me,

Time stops.

I relax and rock my hips.

Each time longing you deeper inside me.

With a need to communicate the ecstasy.

I start to get louder.

I love you.

I feel it all over my body.

With the heartbeat in my juicy mango.

I become warm and pull your hips closer.

Everything is building.

Picking up the rhythm,

I give in and ride the wave,

To the pinnacle of desire,

While you are matching my rise.

Rounding the peak together,

My orgasm is heighten and punctuated with each delivery.

I gradually relax,

And fall into reality with great calmness and revelation.

I feel closer to you than ever before.

You catch your breath looking at me with such compassion,

And mumble a small whisper.

I could not hear and ask you to repeat.

But instead, you dive your head into my neck.

Keeping your tender, exposing message,

Safely hidden until you choose to reveal at a date that cannot come quick enough.


Copyright © 2014

Lukewarm

Whenever I walk by a dark window front,

I can’t help but peek at my reflection,

Something about my body in motion,

It is a unique glimpse at a world others see of me.

I don’t do it out of vanity,

I do it out of curiosity.

More of a craving glance,

Thinking maybe it will be nice today.

Speaking of my reflection,

As if it is a shaded twin,

Who has its own life and choice.

Her legs are thick from years of games,

Her rib cage is slender,

Her breasts are modest,

Her strut is prominent,

Her colors are muted but contrasting,

And her gait is rhythmic.

My perception of figure,

With many starving around me,

Remained ignorant and unrelated.

As I age though,

I have dipped my toe as well.

I see the slippery cliff,

But the mud is warm and soothes my arches,

There is a small soft decline,

Before it drops to the violent white current.

I am tempted,

But scared.

I should know better.

I want to know better.

I want to be ecstatic,

But I am only lukewarm.

Do I accept or alter?

I am not strong enough to resist the warm earth,

So I mustn’t go near.

I am healthy,

And I wish to stay that way.

I hope society quiets down.

I hear culture changing,

I smell the sun rising,

I taste buoyancy brewing,

And suddenly feel the need to scream.

I assume in joy,

But it’s blurry.

The only thing I can do is choose now,

And revel in every minute,

Suck on every move,

Swallow every pain,

And know that I am me,

For many reasons.

And I need to be me,

As much as I can be. 


Copyright © 2014