364/365 Curious George

Dear Kyle,
I just missed 11:11 on the clock. It is now 11:12 which means I could be dead wrong about everything I'm about to write (I don't know how you interpret 11:11 but I think it means I'm on the right track. Just missing it could be the exact opposite) but it's an epiphany I had this moment and I think it's worth noting.

I'm very much aware that you may never write me the way you've said you would. Especially considering you don't have much time. I leave for San Francisco Tuesday afternoon and no offense but the last thing I want is to get some long, "heart felt" message from you when I get there. I plan to pour all my energy and attention into all thing present when I get there. Focus on my life there and making it rich. I don't want to feel the need to focus any attention on you or have any reason to spend my very precious currency of thought on you. Again, no offense, I just seriously need to move on.

So, you have until Tuesday, if not then, then you failed at writing me back a second time. Who is surprised? But damn, wouldn't that say something about you, or me, or where I fall on your priority list? Something to seriously consider.

Anyway, epiphany; you only hook up with me when you're feeling guilty or lustful. It's like I said in the car after Red Rocks, your hooking up with me is this instant gratification. When I make you feel badly, make you see that you've wronged me, of course your immediate  response is to want redemption. The only way you seem to know you've got recieved redemption is if I give in and hook up with you. I am guilty in this matter as well because I want some sort of confirmation that you understood how poorly you've treated me and that you are going to change. Instead of getting this in the form of a polite, adult discussion and action as proof you can change, I settle only for what is given which is you jumping my bones....

The lust thing usually comes when we are away from each other for a long time. Like the week I spent in Telluride. When I got back, we hooked up in Panama's apartment. Almost every time I went to San Francisco and this summer, when you got back from your trip, we pounced.

I cling to you when I want forgiveness as well. I know you don't enjoy the idea of spending time with me. I only like it if your next to me. If I can lay some sort of claim to you. If I reserve the right to sit next to you. But I know you hate that. It hurts me that you hate that.

It just seems to me our relationship has been based solely on cyclical regression. You're not unlike any of my addictions.

"Never drink to feel better, only drink to feel even better."

363/365 Free-write (8/17/2011)

He could see through the thick skin of the wind
could wrap chimes around his fingers.

I swore he conducted the stars.
We were standing on the porch steps once,
in the middle of New York City.
Listening to the bustle of cars,
the suffocation of smog.

He asked me if I could ever called it home,
asked me if he was enough to make a place feel like home.
I told him you can’t make homes out of human beings,
but his voice made me feel cozier then summer comfort.

And that’s when it hit.
What my elders always warned about.
There will be temptations,
test,
beckoning you to diverge from the path you chosen.
The path you said you always wanted for yourself.
The things you swore you’d always do.

I didn’t look him in the eyes for fear they would
swallow me whole,
and that I would never climb out.
Because I knew I had to go.
When life hands you an opportunity,
there will always be the feeling that you will never get better.

You will always get better,
you will always deserve better than this moment.

Then what is the point of life.
Grind mode I guess.
Self improvement,
too bad there is a biological clock.
I would like to have my own kids but I doubt my life is ever going to slow down long enough for me to have them
while my uterus is still down for the cause.

I could adopt.
French, Italian, African.
So I speak to them in their native tongue.
So I can learn their history and teach them their pride.

It’s not gender specific.
And I have no idea where that thought came from.
afdafdafdarhttb ninbvfcdxdc bvhcgdcsda fthsfhbvadcxa
Dududuuduudududeuu squeeze squeeze

362/365 Scratch that, I'd rather just say what I need (demand)

Chivalrous, (includes door opening, purchases, flowers and all around thoughtfulness)
Respects me and my vow for AS LONG AS IT TAKES. I will not be pressured into anything even marriage!
Love for all the things I deserve to be loved for; my sense of humor, my height, my body, my sense of adventure and spontaneity)
Consistency.
Affectionate.
Enjoys having fun.
NEEDS to be a reader.
Likes to be read to.
Likes to read to me.

361/365 Free-write in Blood 2

It just that him saying that last night gave me hope, that if that was truly what it was, if how he treats me was because of something I did, then I would do anything to change his mind. Then we could have a friendship but chances are it's not that easy. Chances are that's not the only reason for his rudeness, it's not the only reason we don't connect and it wouldn't change anything. I'm being selfish because I just don't want to walk away feeling like any of this is my fault. I want to clean up my mess. But I would also like it if he did the same. If we both called ourselves out on what we did wrong, I feel like it would peroxide to eachother's wound, so that we don't have to walk away picking at them. This break doesn't feel clean at all and that's what sucks. I feel like he hates and is annoyed by me. Which is also sucky. And if we come back together wanting to be friends and this isn't cleaned up if we don't know the full wrongs we've received

360/365 Free-write in blood

We went through some super natural stuff. For sure, it was beautiful and noteworthy but can't be the focus. If that is what is needed, the universe will speak that. If not, things will go swimmingly either way. But I'm pretty sure the goal now is to move on. and I don't understand why, and I don't have a flipping clue what it all means, but I'll trust God. This is what he is telling me to do and despite the sudden wobbly feeling caused by my conversation with Richard, it's time to move on and I've known it.
But how do I handle it in the future when he wants to talk or has a moment of weakness. Cross that bridge when we get to it. Just stay focus on other stuff. Which you have plenty of. You know what to do.
That talk about physical versus super natural. And while of course we are spirits we are literally trapped in a physical world. I mean just look at what we walk around in. There are ways to temporarily transcends this world but we can't dwell in the spirit realm.
I say this because I think, it the spirit realm, Kyle and I are meant to have a child for some purpose. I believe that intuitively. In the physical realm to which we are bound, that is absurd. So, the stuff really gets messy.

To give you a better example of how out of sync the spiritual and physical realm are, think about this. A women's body in the prime place to have a child from the age of 22-26. How many 22-26 year old get married and live happily ever after. Very few, the divorce rates are insane and the people unhappy with their life are even more alarming. It doesn't add up or line up or grrrr, what is the purpose?!

And it doesn't make sense that I'm hurting after losing Kyle. Well, I guess it does. I love him, we've been involved for so long. It's always felt like it's ending and then hasn't so for all I know this could be no difference. I just...ugh, there are so many things I loved to change about how it all went down. But no more obsessing. #keepitmoving

359/365 Free-write w/ Workshoper 8/17/2011

He could see through the thick skin of the wind
could wrap chimes around his fingers.

I swore he conducted the stars.
We were standing on the porch steps once,
in the middle of New York City.
Listening to the bustle of cars,
the suffocation of smog.

He asked me if I could ever called it home,
asked me if he was enough to make a place feel like home.
I told him you can’t make homes out of human beings,
but his voice made me feel cozier then summer comfort.

And that’s when it hit.
What my elders always warned about.
There will be temptations,
test,
beckoning you to diverge from the path you chosen.
The path you said you always wanted for yourself.
The things you swore you’d always do.

I didn’t look him in the eyes for fear they would
swallow me whole,
and that I would never climb out.
Because I knew I had to go.
When life hands you an opportunity,
there will always be the feeling that you will never get better.

You will always get better,
you will always deserve better than this moment.

Then what is the point of life.
Grind mode I guess.
Self improvement,
too bad there is a biological clock.
I would like to have my own kids but I doubt my life is ever going to slow down long enough for me to have them
while my uterus is still down for the cause.

I could adopt.
French, Italian, African.
So I speak to them in their native tongue.
So I can learn their history and teach them their pride.

It’s not gender specific.
And I have no idea where that thought came from.
afdafdafdarhttb ninbvfcdxdc bvhcgdcsda fthsfhbvadcxa
Dududuuduudududeuu squeeze squeeze

358/365 Free-write 8/16/2011

I know deep down in my heart that you're not the one.
But if that fails,
there is pure common sense.

For instance;
*I want a guy who knows I'm worth waiting for
*Chivalrous
*....

357/365 Nightfall II

The night is usually so clam here,
Rhythmic crickets,
wind hums
and melodic calmness Denver's night's bring this part of town.

But there's an urgency about this night.
I can feel knocking.
I can't tell if it's at the front door or the back.
I've check both,
no one there,
but still...knocking.

That's when I saw you.
Couldn't have been more than three millimeters tall,
knocking at the door of my silver heart without flowers,
without chivalry,
or candles,
or respect for the sleeping.
There was an arrogance about your stance,
...

356/365 Again with Fire...

There are thing a fire learns very early in life;
To blaze,
to sizzle,
dance,
desire,
tempt,
engulf
destroy.

There are things
a fire is rarely taught.
To be desired.
To be tamed.
To play
enjoy

I don't know how you got here.
Where you came from
what path you choose that landed you in the hearth of this fire.

But I've noticed your callous your fingers.
The way they are printless,
raw
and smooth.

The way you grip my body,
unpetrified
and stare at me as though I weren't the sun.
Hasn't anyone ever told you not to stare directly into the sun,

I think I might have mentioned it.
I think I sent you several flare gun warning signs,
I think, I'm not sure, why you're still here.

355/365 Free-write on 8/14/2011

And you'll make a problems just to see if they'll help you solve them when you really should be trusting and avoiding your time with them.

354/365 Free-write on 7/24/2011

I can't keep playing keep it up
with my relationships or pull it down just
to watch them force their way
to the ceiling.
Let them rise and fall on their own.
Either the were given God's helium
breath or they simply were not
meant to be

353/365 Letters 104

Dear Kyle,

There are certain people,
you just keep coming back to.
She is right in front of you.

You befin to wonder
could you find a better one
compared to her
Now she's in question.

And all at once,
the crowd begins to sing;
Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing, are the same.

Maybe you want her,
Maybe you need her,
Maybe you've started to compare,
to someone not there.

Lookin' for the right one,
you lined up the world to fin.
Where no questions cross your mind.
But she won't keep on waiting,
for you without a doubt,
much longer for you to sort it ou.

Perfection will not come.
Oh, it never comes.
Maybe you want her.
Maybe you need her.
Maybe you had her.
Maybe you lost her,
to another
oh, to another.

352/365 Free-write on the bus

So we sat there,
both of us begging for something with our eyes.

Her forgiveness for her ancestry,
me for understanding of what my people had become.

...that's all I have to say about that....

351/365 Free-write at Play-ground

Something beautiful about a daughter falling off a slide into her father's welcoming arms.
You mean to tell me there's a scenario in which a girl can fall and a man will be there for her.
Interessant....

350/365 Letters 103

You know who you are,
Stop talking to me about marriage and kids when you don't even want to be with me.
And I'm not getting married anytime with in the next give years so if that screws up your complete.

349/365 Opener

Inspiration woke me up around 4:30 this morning.
I was pissed.
But it was worth it.

348/365 Free-write (7/19/2011)

And this guilt I carry around
like maggots in pocket
like flesh eating vultures.

As if I enjoy feeling my muscles deteriorate
wage wars on myself before
life even gets to attack.

I am making myself an easy swallow
(work with analogy of poisonous snakes who deteriorate their food and is it death or just tests?)

347/365 Floating

I like to dive in knowing I can’t swim,
But I figure,
once I get in the water,
I’ll have no choice but to learn right?

When the water slips above my head
and panic slips into my lungs evicting all the oxygen.
I think it’s over,
but I always come out floating.

Dead. And defeated.
But somehow…
still floating.

346/365 Religion (Draft 1)

In the attic of my mother's heart 

there are cobwebs, and crowbars.
Old bibles and new religions 

In the center of everything
lies a three-year old version of myself.
My never speaks of any other age.
Every memory of my toddler era starts with
“When Dominique was three…”
What I gather is when I was three I could do no wrong.
I was cutest then,
smartest,
the year before she left me with a male babysitter must have been the last year she wanted to remember
My mother is not religious,
Traded church attendance for a Miles Monroe novels,
tells me,
when she went to church,
some of the things they (preached) didn’t FEEL right.

I am anything but religious.
Traded in bible study for a village of mentors,
I tell them,
when I read my bible,
sometimes things I read didn’t FEEL right.
I grew up in the church my mother was desperate for after I was molested.
It was where I got my first innocent kiss,
and where I learned being tall was beautiful,
especially on me

It was also the place were I voluntarily lost my virginity
towards the age of six.
[and] I’m sorry,
because I have thought of a pretty or poetic way to say that.
But all of this was proof,
that no thing,
no one
and no place
is 100% good or bad.
I was no safer in the church than I felt in my own body.
My mother is stubborn.
And when it comes to this family tree,
the apple didn’t…even…roll…
We both serve the same God,
so we spend time fighting over which doctrines to follow.
Snorting parchment
and choking on scriptures.
She offers proof of her absolutist belief with the fact
that most religious holidays around Jesus’s birth.
I mention winter solstice and astrology
and she flips ship.
Asks me if I think Winter Solstice will protect me.
I hadn’t thought about it,
but now that you mention it…
I don’t really give a damn!
Mother we are serving the same God,
the same guiding light.
Because how many of us still slice open a lamb in sacrifice,
but you boast about reading the bible three times,
and walking in it’s every word.
No, we walk by intuition.
We DO only what feels right,
what aligns us with the Universe,
and power inside of us.
There is power inside of me.
I know you’re scared,
because you don’t want me to experience the things you went through without God
but you’ve changed your beliefs at least 3 times since I turned 4
and we’ve still been cared for,
It is your FAITH that has made you whole.
And I know,
I have no real proof to offer you of my beliefs and we are too much
alike for me not to change them at least a few more times before I hit your age,
I’m not saying I know everything,
or anything at all,
but I am asking you,
to have an open heart.

There is barbed wire on the door-knob of my mother's attic
coiled into thickets
My mother never fully pronounces
the word molest-, lestation, molestation *hard swallow*, some things are better left in the attic

345/365 To My Unborn Son (Draft1)

An effective Heimlich maneuver
will often brake the tip of the sternum. {no pause}
30 percent of successful resuscitations
end in at least one broken rib. {longer pause}

They also end with a survivor walking away from a scene that could have otherwise taken their life.
Most things meant to heal you,
have to break something first.

So to my unborn son,
you will be the heart breaker
everyone warns their daughters about.
Not because you are insensitive,
or incompassionate.
but because you will have a heart the size of an ocean,
but a mind wise enough to know the difference between a chapter
and forever.
When you leave them,
something inside them will BREAK
and they will hate you,
{pause} until they learn to love themselves.

To my unborn son,
You will be a mama’s boy, {get country}
and will hold no shame with that title.
you will treat every woman you meet with the gentle love, respect and honor you give me,
you will respect them
because they deserve it
and if they do not act like they deserve it
you will treat them like they deserve it
until they respect themselves {pause}

My unborn son,
you will be no Jesus
you will fall,
fumble,
say hurtful things,
and will SMACK these habits out of you,
but realize that only break you,
to make you stronger.

They say it is an irresponsible time to have a child.
That this world is so far gone,
but why not give it a reason to correct itself.
YOU
will be a reason for the this world to correct itself.
You will pivotal.
Necessary.
It would be irresponsible NOT to give Gaia you as a gift.

You will be a sunrise without smog,
a breath a fresh air.
You will be a mama’s boy. {soft}
You will treat this earth with the love, respect and honor that you owe it.
You will nourish the desolate soil of the ghetto,
you will break it,
so it’s root can reach the .

You will break hearts so we can learn what makes them beat,
break soil,
so our crops may harvest,

When a throat is lodged,
the sternum must be broken to unclog it,
when lungs fill with liquid,
ribs have to be cracked in order to drain it.

When this world is fills with toxins
and counterproductive behavior.
Some habits need to be broken,
some patterns need to dislodged,
you will the son

that SNAPS the horizon,
the light this world needs,
to see itself,
to love and respect itself
so we can finally rebuild.

344/365 Desert flower

I don’t know the history of my own skin.
Still I wear it like a favorite garment,
though I have long since forgot where it came from.

I wonder if it’s a insult to my ancestor’s cultures to wear it proudly without knowing it’s history,
I wonder if it is sacrilegious to wear head wraps as fashion statements on the days I don’t feel like combing my hair…

343/365 Agape (Just to prove I'm worthy)

When sand dunes form in my skin,

When the silver lining I’ve spent most of my life pursuing finally makes it’s way home into my scalp

and dresses in an argent halo,

When the color of my skin can no longer be distinguished form beauty marks

and laugh lines.

When my body becomes one long novel of a purposed fulfilled.

Do not remember the girl you fell in love with.

Forget her boundless wind tunes

and butterfly whims,

the way she loved like a breeze,

caressing whomever crossed her path

irregardless of whether they deserved it.

Forget the skin, silk, cascade.

View me as I am,

who I have become,

folds and all,

creases and all.

Hold me morning dew.

Magnify each vein pore and wrinkle

spiral down,

flow with it’s curves,

margins and ripples

cradle the barren riverbanks.

I am God’s first fingerprint

revealed after decades of forensics

The wind of a lifetime has brushed away dust

Revealing the hieroglyphics dating me for you.

I was carved for you,

out of mahogany red tree

a totem pole of stories

just for you to read.

Read here,

where wind tunes composed symphonies,

where butterfly whims stretched eagle’s wings.

And here,

where my love graduates from breeze to typhoon

Twisters and natural disasters have threatened my frame

and we have weathered these storms together.

There have been nights when your anger kept you from our home,

days

when pride kept me from you arms.

We have had moments,

when I’d rather claim I don’t need you

than acknowledge the longing I feel without you

and every smooth place on my skin is a regret.

There should be evidence of life there.

Wrinkles and stretch marks,

proof of us.

Scars and sand dunes,

proof of war and peace.

And scorch marks,

proof of just where my glass blown skin comes from.

I’ve always wanted to be loved just the way you love me,

Down to my very hands

and eyebrow frays,

admiration of the things I was made from.

I turn Savannah sand in your hands.

When you bulldozer,

brown eyes target mine,

I am Jericho,

Berlin,

Roman Empire.

So when my knees crumble,

when my bones creak like summer rocking chairs,

and thirsty screen doors.

When the compilation of desert storm has succeeded to blur my vision,

sing to me,

because your voice is the closest thing to a Denver sunrise.

And I promise,

I will write you love poems in the form of dragging heels,

and folded smiles,

when I am just crumbled,

origami version of my former self

With the slow beauty of a consistent sunset,

fall in love with me

again. 

342/365 Water 1

Flipped over,
world spinning the table slit my wrist
like a suicide alert I would never become.

These are the consequences of losing you head in you heart,
look deep within the ventricles and chambers.
I had a sore on my wrist seven weeks,
It opened up everytime my mind wandered through my heart again,
every time ecstasy wrapped itself around my body like water,
making me feel weightless
and invincible
when I was all too close to drowning.

And about drowning...
My love is rough
and unruly
like a cactus shell.

If you hold me,
I will sink into you flesh unwarranted,
cling to you like lungs to air.

and if you can get past my dried to jagged
edges,
their is a wealth of water deep within the cavity of my womb.

Do not grow comfortable when you find this.
if you sink into it's beauty
you will drown.

It was not meant for you
I did not swallow full oceans at birth
just to ease your thirst.

You are selfish,
and I have let you be.

Slit myself open,
placed my well to your desert lips.
You complained of being disatisfied,
threatened to find another canteen.

I can not stop the power of my love once it is unleashed,
You will drown before you reach the door.

This love was not meant for men,
it was made for me...

341/365 Letters 102

Dear Reggie,
Sort of strange isn't it?
The way every relationship you have still manages to grapevine it's way back to me?
#hauntingmeafterdeath

340/365 Short Poem

I was laying down a personalized path to the insane asylum down the street

when you called.

You asked me if I were busy....

And I told you,

I was barring the cage to my own isolation chamber 

When you showed up

I was hand-crafting my coffin

When you knocked

I didn't expect you

I resented your presence.

I am so glad 

you are here.

339/365 Free-write

We're holding on to air hoping it won't slip through our fingers,
gripping so hard
and crying.

Holding on to the smell of what used to be us,
all that's left,
is empty space.

Let go.

338/365 David Blair

David Blair.
I didn't know you,
though I think I might have hugged you once...

I don't know how you died.
All I know is in your the last breath
you swallowed
everything I loved about this city.

Like the miraculous way my mentor's smile transmits through telephone wires,
the way my coaches caring "hello" reverberates against silence,
and the way they call Luz carries such light.

In the days before you died,
you had never inhabited my mind so much,
had a phantom poem playing in my head,
Ken read it to us in his apartment a week before you passed.

337/365 Water Scraps 2

*The Sufi tell stories of timeless proportions,
each one a gem
ready to place value to all
lives willing to cradle
their worth with diligence.

But like many things,
it takes time
and great effort
to have them grow

337/365 Universe's love stuck in my throat

I find that heavy emotions make me feel more important when universe of love gets stuck in my throat
and I form words around the air being constricted I lover the feeling of mass and meaning being anchored in a sea of your own self-doubt.
I like drowning, like the thought of how many people would miss if I were gone.
The idea seems to give my life purpose,
but I'll never live to witness it.

336/365 Pebbles

In the grand scheme, we are so small. We are pebbles thrown at the Sagrada Famillia.
We will never even make a dent to this beautiful structure.
So why do we say end of the world like it wasn't here before us.
Like it won't be here long after.
It just may not be called world,
it will called names far more beautiful.

Like the wind's blessed breath,
the inhale,
exhale,
of the trees.

It will be given better praises
than we could ever from our lips pronounce.

335/365 Religion Scraps 1

*My mother is not religious,
Traded church attendance for a Miles Monroe novels,
tells me,
when she went to church,
so times the things they said (preached) didn’t FEEL right.

I am anything but religious.
Traded in bible study for a village of mentors,
I tell them,
when I read my bible,
some things I read did FEEL right.

I grew up in the church my mother found after I was molested.
It was where I got my first innocent kiss,
and where I learned being tall was beautiful,
especially on me

It was also the place were I voluntarily lost my virginity
towards the age of six.
[and] I’m sorry,
because I have thought of a pretty or poetic way to say that.

But all of this was proof,
that no thing,
no one
and no place
is 100% good or bad.

I was no safer in the church than I felt in my own body.

My mother is stubborn.
And when it comes to this family tree,
the apple didn’t…even…roll…
We both serve the same God,
so we spend time fighting over which doctrines to follow.
Snorting parchment
and choking on scriptures.
She offers proof of her absolutist beliefs in the form….

*Mother we are serving the same God,
the same guiding light.
Because how many of us still slice a lamb in sacrifice,
but you boast about reading the bible three times,
and walking in it’s word.
No, you walk by intuition.

334/365 Letters 101

When I realized your reason for visiting D.C., it stilled my heart.

333/365 Molestation

My mother never fully pronounces the word molest-, lestation, molestation *hard swallow*, some things still get smothered in her throat.

332/365 Stuttering

We have so many words for the way we carry weight. Tote, bring, baggage, carry.
So many names for the way our shoulders slump, the way boulder's gather community in our bellies.
Weight, mass, gravity, sinking.
The way our spines curve, self-esteems wein, bones bow.
There is no Native American word for stuttering.
There is no Pre-Colonial case of such a person having this problem.
It makes me wonder, if we didn't have a word, a diagnostic, for every little thing that could go wrong.
Would we spend so much of our time afraid that it would spend so much of energy on what we hope won't happen that they're the only thing been given enough energy to occur

331/365 Here's a question

If being happy is what makes you happy
why not be happy?

330/365 Denying Feelings

When does it get to the point where
denying your feelings is necessary?
Where can I find the line between self-pity
and self-honesty.
Is it true when they say this heartache
never completely goes away?
When does ignoring your feelings stop being
denial and start being majority?
Is it a matter of inner resolution or out-ward closure?

329/365 So many poems I could write on behalf of this delight

There is so much I could say,
So many poems I could write.
Too many stories could be noted
On behalf of this delight.

But pain is imminent now,
I've been through this before.
I tried too many times,
To open this same door.

Falling in love is easy,
Hitting the ground is not.
Especially when you find that love
was what you should have fought.

So for me to write of happiness,
Allow joy to fill my page,
Is to know I'm only hurting myself.
For soon that joy will blaze.

328/365

Hardest thing about holding on
is realizing there is nothing to hold onto.
Hardest thing about being hurt
is knowing he'll never feel that pain.
Hardest thing about moving on
is not knowing where you're going.
Hardest thing about seeing the sun after the storm
...I still want him to see it with me....

327/365

I do but then again,
I don't.
Or maybe it's that.
I don't then again, I don't at all....
~Yeah. That one's definitely it.~

15/30 At the beginning of the relationship

At the beginning of the relationship,

I was the sceptic.

You were the sweet talker who liked the way “forever” rolled off your tongue.

It’s amazing how soft and fluffy, [abysmal

appealing... sweet nothings can be.

I curled into the sweet,

until I ended up with the nothing.

You got me.

Or at least I made you think so.

I got tired of you contradicting me when I told you I wasn’t the one,

that we weren’t in love.

that our relationship was fated to be a moment.

[was fated to be]

Reality has a funny way of catching up to people.

In situations like these you really can’t fight it.

Once,

I made you promise never to tell me something you didn't mean.

I should've been more specific,

cause you surely meant to lie to me.

Destiny

has wrapped itself around us like a snake.

Deceit is part of the game

especially with worlds so young.

But is it wrong for this masterpiece to have dark strokes?

Dare we remove the darkness when it's so necessary?

It's okay if you love her,

okay if you love me.

Fine if neither or only one is true.

It doesn't matter.

In this relationship,

the most important three words aren't "I love you"

rather..."Here we are."

It's a declaration of meant to be if only for a moment.

The before,

after,

and all around has fallen away.

I’m stepping back.

Cause we're meant to be,

will to be,

I'll let it be,

let us be

"So be it

No worries"

I'm realizing

since day one

I’ve been fighting to rid my life of you

but i could never coerce my hand into letting you go.

Because I held on

I am my own savior.

At the end of the day it’s me.

I love me,

I need me,

I have me,

this fight is mine.

Relative to my life,

your significance is but a drop in my ocean.

I need every drop.

I need you.

But if and when I lose you,

I’m okay with it.

(9/365) I wanna cause you a miracle when you see the way I kept God's image alive

I've watched you scamper back to girl after girl once you've left them,

Promise to kiss them gently but pinned "insert tongue" signs on various places of their body.

You follow your own command forcefully.

But I've noticed,

you only return to the ones still reaching.

The ones who haven't quite let past pass,

the ones with no trust in the universe to bring them something better.

And you can boast all day long about the beauty of this one

and your feelings for that one,

but I know the truth beneath it all.

You're just a rat lookin' for scrapts.

You'll take whatever you can get, 

And go ahead and call yourself selective

but a crumb from a five star restaurant  

ain't a bit more special than the trash left over from the McDonald's down the street.

Believe that a well accredited Chef created me in His very image.

I can walk around flashin' my official goddess badge

but if I stoop to the mercy of your rat-like mouth,

I am just another crumb.

326/365 July 17,2011

Bathed my self in water,
let the wind kiss my neck
and the sun made love to me in broad daylight.

It make me wonder if anyone was watching.
But not enough to stop.

325/365 {cry}

Don't give me attention every time I cry.
For then I will begin crying to get your attention.
Teach me another way.
Teach me that I am enough.
That my mere presence is enough to steal your glance.

324/365 Free-write

I am a flower five seconds from bloom
hesitating in the jump,

I am a caterpillar forced butterfly
hanging limp from my cocoon,
would rather use it as a noose
than face one day of my potential.

I am playing Kakuro more hours a day
then I sharpen my pen.
Craving rewards for my efforts
Before i make them.

I am generation X,
claiming not to be.
I am wanting instant gratification
10 seconds prior to instantly.

I am making invalid excuses
and invalid reasons why they're valid.

I am very obviously fooling myself
and everyone else.
I am resume embellisher
lavish language layer.
Washed up actor with still a bit of skill.

323/365 Thunder

Do you hear me?
I started out as a slow rumble,
but she can't feel me this way.

She left cloud nine.
Started off as threat.
Then touch ground in a flash.

I know you see he flash
and can hear me right behind her.
Closer now,
    louder now
I am angrier than I can stand.

Angrier than lower decibels will allow.

12/30-More of a Confession

Not so much a poem as a superbly needed confession and other ranting qualities.

We're talking about the numerous times I've been sexually violated.

I'm unsure how the whole healing process works for most people in these situations. I've heard a ton of talk about not blaming yourself and blah....

Don't think that fully applies for me.

I'm gonna go ahead and call it on this one

I have to own up to it.

I called these men to me.

Granted, I never wanted any of them to go as far as they did

but to pretend I didn't tempt them is foolish.

I've never had the capacity to be a victim.

I've always had a strength with me.

To claim that I was ever truly a victim is playing down my strength and leaving the door open for it to happen again.

Shutting down may sound a lot like trust issues.

Which I have but I also have a man who knows how,

and is worthy of breaking them down.

The universe has me covered.

Meanwhile, the talk of expressionism and symbolism today in Aesthetics and Performance had my mind on a tangent.

I want to create a play that develops and portrays the way it feels to lose your virginity in such a way. It will spare no feelings.

The main symbol will be a Chasity necklace.

All the ways it can be removed; falling off, snapped off, or gracefully floating down as the couple ascends.

voices, darkness, distortion can portray the image.

Sexuality must be portrayed.

yeah, until I feel like I've gotten it all out, I'm not quitting.

And with that poem.

I want it to feel the way "it" felt.

The slow, seemingly harmless seduction,

to the unyielding build.

Unsure of the ending however.

Could make it true to life,

or could make it what the audience wants to hear.

It's all questionable.

Then I have to wonder how it would do on a BNV stage if I want to make it an indi.

these are my thoughts.

322/365 Free-write about Kyle

I’ve always wanted to be loved just the way you love me,
Down to my very hands and eyebrow frays.
I’ve always wanted to be held just the way you hold me,
with a gentle stroke and admiration of the things I was made from.
I turn to Savannah sand in your hands.
My mind races cheetah speed
I’m heart broken.

321/365 Morning free-write 7/6/11

The jester takes his time,
plays with the audience until
it is revealed.

Here’s the joke.
I sit outside with a pen and a creek in my hand.
The question is,
which is heavier.
I sit by a pool of my own thought,
the question is, which is light enough to skip across the water.

320/365 Letters 100

Dear Franklin
One thing separates you from the other guys I've been able to let go of is your friendship is actually worth keeping.

320/365 I am from 2

I am from delight lectibles foks,
I am from mother's womb
mother's south


I am from not quite making it West.

319/365 B's Workshop 3

I am from God's home

I am from minus clouds
plus sunshine.

I am from disagreements,
mother's tears,
mother's attic.

I am from lighthouse,
fire,
blazing until fire burn out
the place you call home.

I am from red, white and blue lights,
from quiet,
from suburban meets sub-urban
from tumbleweed cities
and grassland green.

I am from do too little
say too much
do too little
lost hazel eyes
in thunderous clouds
all the more soft in person.

I am from racing dragonflies
slowing to a butterflies wing
slashing snakes
catching grasshoppers
smashing red bugs,
rolling polleys
and that red light that keeps flashing
in the corner of your eye.

That ticking bomb
turned out to be car alarms
empty space,
turned out to be mother's eye
white sheet
turned out to be blood stained
long legs
turned out to rip me.

There are few things in this world you get used to coming from,
So used to being.

I am pink bike
I am pink shorts
the neighbor realized matched my bike.
I am wind blown button ups
other poets
and their ideals.

I am the result of everything I've seen.
Everything I come form.

318/365 Color 2

Grey.
Silver.
blue.
grey
silver
black red
red
blue
blue?
Light blue?
Translucent blue.

Rippled blue.
bleu?

Gray
silver
black
blue/bleu

HOT PINK

317/365 B's Workshop 2

Black fuchsia,
                                red rose
        Red rose

     White.
       
        Red rose
        Red rose

      Black fuchsia.

Lightbrown silkbrown caramel
          Light Black
                silk fuchsia
               violet
                  purple
               violet
                   violet
               violet
                   white
                off-white
                       peach
               violet
             Black fuchsia.

        dark brown
                 violet
              fuchsia
                  Black

316/365 B's Workshop Prompt 1

I am five from completion,
I am carrying the weight of a boy's last dream,
and unraveling the haze surrounding him.

I am a lover,
far from friend.
Intimacy knows no bounds with me,
I know no bounds.

I was bound in the metaphysical.
Wrapped and locked with the silk of heaven.
I am irretrievable sanity,
I am always to be lost once-in-a-while.

There are 1.000 of me.
People hold onto me like I was meant to be bound,
they bound their hurts and fears in me.

I set them free,
the people and the fears.

I am vulnerability's only option.
It knows it can't run from itself,
it knows it can run from me,

It reveals itself to me,
naked and unsheathed.
I set it free as the true exhibitionist it is.

No weapon can cut when covered,
I teach them what it means to be uncovered.

I am desolate nightmares,
rebirth stars,
diving into pool sized raindrops
feeling the broken and tether of my own flesh,
knowing what it's like to bathed.

I am a flower five seconds from bloom,
hesitating in the jump, afraid of my own beauty.
Afraid of completion of ending.
To start again.

315/365 Eve remix

eve

(Hook)
They call me eve
and I'm as old as the trees
older than the stories you were told to believe
about me
that i'm as cold as the seas
i gave the world life and they called it a disease

(verse)
they call me darkness despite the fact that I'm the one that gives days
man can't ingnite life with the light of his dim rays
despite the stories told in all the scriptures that these men made
This extra weight I carry can't be found in any rib cage
I taught the kids to count but it was not their ribs they counted
surrounded by the scripture if they did they'd be astounded
My daughters growing proud wasn't allowd and it ammounted
to the world that i founded burning skies to keep me grounded
i carried extra flesh, and they said it made me less
with the very lips I once carressed against my breasts
i tought them how to step and watched them walk out of the nest
and thanked god that I was blessed with this everlasting breath

(hook)

I give life and i know man had a hand in it
but farmers seeds are smaller than the land in which they planted it
They starred in awe at the rebirth of lazurath
the first birth of lazurath was equally miraculas
My grandchildren asked about the purpose of the sadnesses,
they feel and they're told that i unleashed all that is cancerous
but actually their manuscripts are tradgicly inaccurate
these mushroom cloud explosions only started after atom split
And the abandonment turned them into savages
backs with witch to slash and split
captains and the captive ships
and if the chance exsists
become the hands who's grip
commands the whip

314/365 Seduction 2

I didn't mean to touch him with fingertips laced with paralyzers,
didn't mean to take them down.
Watch them crumble to my bosom
and clutch my waist
like they could climb into my womb.
I am a woman with an apple pie warmth,
more twinkles in my eyes than Georgia's sky.
I have hospitality gripping my arms.
Thees last boys run to my
riverbank thighs
and watermelon sweet lips.

You seduce men with intent.
I fired without aim but hit-
every-
time-
Don't blame me.
I have seen you
walk with your telephone wire hair,
your receiver mouth,
down to your very belt length skirt,
you are nothing but a booty call.

313/365 Letters 99

Dear Theo,
I'm not surprised by your behavior.
I know you as the 30 year-old, near fianced man,
with the hormones and stamina of a 14 year-old boy.

But I got a lot going on,
I don't have time for boys
and 30 years is a bit too old for me.
Suffice it to say,
you're not my type.

312/365 Morning Free-write

The jester takes his time,
plays with the audience until
it is revealed.

Here’s the joke.
I sit outside with a pen and a creek in my hand.
The question is,
which is heavier.
I sit by a pool of my own thought,
the question is, which is light enough to skip across the water.

311/365 Letters 98

Dear Theo,
We both know I have feelings for you.
We don't need to talk about that.
We both know for every force, there is an equal and opposite force.
We don't need to talk about that.

All that we need to know is that you are 10 years older than me, in a very committed relationship and that I really just want to know you. Cause I've seen you constantly put on a show instead of being yourself and I've seen you be so afraid of the dark powers you most definitely posses. I'm just telling you that I am fully equipped to handle whatever it is you think no one can handle.

Also, for the record, nothing would ever happen between us. I won't ever let it. I could never do that to Tiffany, or any fellow woman. That's just who I am.

So if you need someone trustworthy to be vulnerable with, someone to prove to you that real love is not off put by flaws because they only enhance the masterpiece. I think you need to learn that lesson.

I care about you. I love you, I've never told you that but I do. So let me know.

All my love,
Dominique

2/365 This, it's an apology letter to the both of us, for how long it took me to let things go

I am fully aware that if I were to die this afternoon,

you'd still be scratching your head at my wake.

One flavored signals have never my strong suit,

I've always been a fan of the mixer.

Hate notes in my journal,

Love letters in my text messages

And when they flip, the transition is seamless.

When it came to choosing my favorite color,

I narrowed it down to both red and green.

I know you've always felt the hint of stop in my "go."

In bed, with your hands around my torso,

I'd secretly implement a game of red light, green light.

And though you didnt know your hands were playing:

It was always clear to both of us when they lost.

I counted on you taking the blame. 

No caring person looks a battered woman in the eyes and tells her it her fault.

Even when they should.

You spent countless nights cursing your own name.

I know this because it's how I spent my time before I met you.

It's called transfer of energy.

They say once you're abused,

you either become the healer or an abuser yourself.

So matter of fact...

I bet they didn't see me coming.

Wolf in sheeps clothing,

I bet they didn't know I'd play you like that.