It’s Monday - again - every time I look around,
it seems like it’s Monday again.
Weekdays I run on snark and caffeine.
If I seem preoccupied..
I’m not ignoring you, I’m buffering
My playlists soothe and understand me
I’m not ignoring you, I’m reorganizing a playlist.
My mood is linked to Wi-Fi strength.
I’m not ignoring you, I’m doom scrolling.
On weekends, we put the ‘pro’ in procrastination
we take the celibacy out of celebration
and work on our romantic cardio
Sometimes you gotta pop-out and show your alignment
I’m not ignoring you, I just don’t want to pull a bird-finger muscle
.
.
A song for this:
The Politics of Dancing (12" Extended Mix) by Re-Flex
Without Him by Triste Janero
Blowing cold winds, you might not be aware,
Putting on your skin, when lovely eyes stare.
Warmth drains like a river into the sea;
Must be a mother—two hearts, a body share.
Burdened by things when self-worth shakes,
Whispering name, she makes you awake.
Injecting instant salvation into the air;
Of course, sister in action, as pain alleviates.
Contained in null when you seek directions,
Reorganizing a piece shattered in fractions.
Blending an incomplete into a complete,
As beloved showers you with satisfaction.
i am unsure of what is worse,
the trauma of what happened or the ache that what never will.
i sit here with this feeling of shattered pieces trying to regroup themselves.
rearranging, reorganizing, looping together.
i feel each bump as they strike against each other on the inside of my chest.
as you open the box to your favorite puzzle you lay out all the pieces.
you organize them by the edges and maybe colors too.
you place down your last piece but as you do you realize that there is one piece missing.
you are my missing piece.
you are my missing future, my beginning, my end.
no other piece will fit as i try to find another piece to fill the gaping hole staring back at me.
someday i will find that missing piece.
it may not be you.
but it will fit.
Zoology
Animal Biology -
Classification, Distribution, Evolution, Form -
Geology Helps Investigations Jumpstart Knowledge -
Latest Methods Necessarily Overturn Past Questions,
Reorganizing Some Taxonomic Understanding -
Variations Within Xenotypic Yeasts -
Zoology
----------
(my last one, I promise!)
I throw the words onto a page
they slide off on their butts, laughing
I scoop them up and try again
They dance around, reorganizing themselves
My muse is their whimsical overseer
She encourages them to mess with me
I should stop writing all together I say
They howl with laughter
Some are crying now.
One wets his pants.
These stupid ideas
know me incredibly well.
lesson three
time is broken
where it used to speed along
it now barely wobbles
injured maybe crippled
i keep my mind bustling nonstop
in the hopes to fall
asleep at night
from mere exhaustion
busy working
the whole day through
uncluttering reorganizing
worried i’ll soon
run out of closets
in the silence
time is illusion
somehow
i’ll need to face
creating a routine
around the void of him
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology book ~TODAY I LEARN TO BE A WIDOW~ 2020
AP: 3rd place 2021, Honorable Mention 2021
What if we were lusty song,
sacred litany?
What if...
What if we were sensual dance,
grace filled choreography?
What if we were organic energy?
Naked branched and rooted trees
joining navels
from native mother wombs
to nurture Mother seeds
down through speciating generations
up for regeneration.
What if we became trusted time
for reorganizing space?
Irreplaceable humored climates
recreating sacredly organic humidity.
I am not your sad place
and not gladly mine
with responsibility to displace
or authority to replace.
I am not my fading face.
We are designed to fall apart,
even with unlikely careful wear.
So what is this time
of my planned obsolescence?
No refuge from surrender
to daily worn-out deaths.
Not yet refused to rise this day
ready for each dusk
without anticipation
for love or lust
rain or dust
win or bust.
It's just us
wearing down the best we can.
What if...
What if we were each a song
resonating one pure measure
of integrity's longest line dance?
What if we were timeless energy
resonating freestyle
mind embodiedness?
The watchful smile withers away,
His abandoned post welcomes all to stray,
Repressed skeletons wade through plagued by a horrific cringe,
So ink filled by an emotional syringe,
Dispenses color across this stale page,
Extinguishing this manifesting rage,
Reorganizing my closet once more,
Mending the pieces of my shattered core.
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