Be a Warrior Poet / Reprise

Bleed  salty tears

heart

fragile / beating / open

expose truth

be unafraid

use your pen to paint pictures

ugly and beautiful

your naked soul as your palate

You poet.

Show me an original alchemy

where you turn your fear into courage

make medicine out of that poison

that is slowly killing you

dig yourself out of that early grave

they dug for you

and cry me

a polluted river

toxic salty

words

so the parasites

don’t have to live inside of you

anymore

and when you’re done

stand in a standing room only
dimly lit room full of poets

or a city street

or facing the ocean

and read it

out loud

to the world

I promise

Someone will listen.

By Mariposa 

Wanna be a warrior poet?

Bleed  me some salty tears

on pages and pages

of your heart

fragile / beating / open and exposed

be unafraid to cry ugly

use your pen to paint pictures

your bare soul as your palate

You poet.

Show me an original alchemy

Where you turn your

fear into courage

make some medicine out of that poison

that’s slowly killing you

dig yourself outta that early grave

and cry me

a polluted river

some salty

words

and when you’re done

stand in a room

with some poets

warrior poets

and cowards alike

and read it

out loud. 

#conundrum

In the future
I wonder if
we'll still love in this way
A broken ship to endure the lengthy journey
I was told forever was the destination
Must our love be
A fight at every turn?
Lessons learned from scornful words
With hindsight leading us further from the safety of the shore?
Why does black love feel more like
A head under water where we think we're breathing just fine
Unable to take a breath accepting the blues with our black because this is just how he loves us?
Will these broken down cycles of apathy and counter intuitive thinking always be what it's like to love a black man?
Will I always be too much and not enough at the same time?
Hypocrisy seems to turn him on
Wild goose chases for unicorns
Driven women who balance home cooked gourmet dishes
and creating their champagne wishes
All by ourselves
We're out here
A lady in the streets, freak in the sheets, & nurturer in between
a rock and a hard place
I'm right here
But I can't stroke your ego while I hold your hand
Black man,
please hold my hand.

Another question
Why is it that kinky hair and full hips translates to complicated?
As if you fear my complexity
I'm just being the queen
I was meant to be
The one you said
you'd wish I'd be
because that's
what you said
a king really needs
So what is it about me that's so intimidating?
Will I always be expected to keep
offering up apologies for the anticipated tragedy of loving me?
Can lost black girls find redemption in a heart and not in the heat of passion
Instead of actin for these peter pans clocked in black man skin?

I'm asking
cause I'm tired of the past
I'm tired if not being enough
when I've poured it all out
The thousand times I've runneth over
I'm tired of being bitter by proxy of my race
I'm tired of holding my anger a steady pace in place of a steady heart beat
And beating myself up for being my mothers daughter
I'm tired of rebirthing his existence yet still be discounted in favor of women of simplicity
I don't want to someone he wishes he never met
The one he's actually unable to forget
And one day may regret his decision to leave.
Because we both know he'll never find another me
Yet even knowing this
Is not comforting
Cause I've still got kids to raise
on my own
I've still got to be the anchor
and cornerstone of the home created
and we broke
and yet
I don't get the luxury
of giving up on trying to solve this puzzle with your piece still missing.

-JSC2014
www.artlovesher.com

Sent from my iPhone

Maybe Yet Resolve

Lapsed into apathy
Stultified longing
Aping an ache for the truth
I'm a ruse of recluse
An imposter hermit
Hiding pretending it's me
Belied by the hammers that constant caress
Lonely dulcet one-sixteenths
Tiny lonely lonely lonely
It's the song I know
And here I am again
Lapsed into apathy
Stultified longing
Aping an ache for the truth
Maybe tomorrow finds
Finally dyeing
My heart red
Instead of my cheeks
And maybe the music
Will yet resolve
Into peculiar,
quiet harmonies

And I Am An Impoverished Lover

And i am an impoverished lover
Because I have loved so many, thinly
Offering my sex like the discarded petals of a dying bouquet
Stingy with the burn that runs through the heart of me
And so like starved I come to you
Sweet smelling but who cares anymore

one day late
cause I went on a late night date
slept all day
and ate
early to bed
eyes itchy
eyes twitchy
stomach feels all topsy turvy
wanted to end on a better note
but my energy has been over exerted
maybe we can do this thing better
next time around together