The Fruits of Rage

The welling eye, the bitten lip, A shudder that breaks just beneath the surface of the skin. A quake that engulfs the body as the red sear of emotion covers your skin. A mind rushes to violence, hands long to batter and choke, legs hungry to kick or stomp or at least stop running. Eyes hold a gaze packed with the tools of war. The body wants to collapse beneath the feeling of it but refuses to give satisfaction to anyone but itself. A ravenous appetite for justice. There will be an end to this be it brave, bloody, or both. There will be a change, the future reshapes itself at this moment. A course is set, a stand is taken, proclaimed as truth from this day forward.

Gift

Occluded memories waiting to become, The paper fastened tight to extend the suspense. An undeserved reverence given to spent money. A fixation that is misunderstood, misaligned from it's true meaning. A value internally split between money and soul. To be known is the true gift, to be called out, to have someone say I see you, I know you. From trinkets to treasure the truly cherished gifts will be the ones that affirm your soul is something they see a part of you that perhaps no one else has, that they have come to realize it is not only an essential part of you, but also essential to them. The joy that you have visited upon them, returned. A telling of the place you hold in their heart and a thanks giving for letting them into yours.

Blessing

Her hair fell to her shoulders, tangled yet silken. She wiped the sweat from her neck and left behind it a shimmering trail. The reddish hue her eyes had taken on only made the color of her iris' that much more brilliant. Her heaving chest still trying to recapture it's breath seemed to glow with a once hidden radiance. Her tears flowing happily from her eyes began to wash away the makeup, revealing it's true futility. Her cheeks still red from effort could not release the smile that held them high and proud. The sounds that came from her were a mixture of joy and elation, a sound I wished for her to express as often as possible from this day on. As the small, writhing, screaming child was lowered into her arms, he silenced and stared at her. He must've been sharing my awe. What a lucky child to see this on his arrival. Beauty more tangibly personified then ever before not even noticing herself for he, her son,was her true blessing.

Go with it

On the precipice of true loves kiss When the hard road has been won When your life no longer seems amiss and your drudgery is done In a reaching hand hoping it can help finally pulls you from the snare When your freedom comes through an open door and your skin feels sun and air When your well laid plans finally coalesce into triumph and relief When you go a day without shedding tears for an everlasting grief When you find yourself, or you lose yourself and the healing starts it work When you look around an you realize it's not you who is the jerk Call it affirmation, call it revelation or much more simply joy Now try your best to have a rest and not second guess life's ploy

History

So solid you once stood, crisp, tall and strong Unwavering in high winds Unstoppable with your determination You carried that weight like another spine like any other part of your body As if it were nothing It wasn't the blows of life that weakened you It was the weight that you added again and again defiantly refusing to crumple beneath even when you should have even when you could have You didn't believe you were enough that the burden represented your stature your status You had earned your respect by carrying that load silently When all we wanted was for you to put it down Trust your heart instead of your spine Trust your soul instead of your ability to hide it Trust that this movement of love included you that stature and status should be overshadowed by affection and compassion And now the load has broken you down and you are a statue from the past that we visit to give our respect with the appropriate distance for fear of crumbling you further.

Growth in Darkness

I grow in the darkness, I bloom in the black fed by my shortcomings, nourished by lack Rooted in dead earth, under the night Sustained not by love but the need to still fight Perhaps sunlights better the blindness it brings but the songs of the owls sound more like my spring The chill in the winter grows my stem that much stronger My buds could not hold out one season longer In darkness there is comfort, in the cold there is calm The snow and the ice to my wounds is a balm So give me the blustery magic of fall and the core chilling winter will help me grow tall

Royalty

A dance between ink and inspiration The frivolity flows with great consternation The music of thought and the rhythm of feeling The worlds you create when you stare at the ceiling The unchained emotions, the shackles of grammar Anger through whispers and joy as a hammer The mind chases thoughts as they hide and escape The pain as entity born from a scrape Some demons, some angels and all in between living fully fleshed lives with their artist as queen