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Marie Athena Occeme Poem
This morning will never return
February twelfth burns in silence
Time breathes softly against my skin
It moves on without turning back
I feel the shadow lay its cold hand
Upon the fragile neck of hours
Life trembles like a naked flame
Between birth and forgetting
Each second asks for courage
The courage to love before night falls
I walk within fragile clarity
With my heart open to vertigo
Death watches without speaking
Yet I choose the warmth of now
I gather this day like rare fruit
And drink its light completely
Copyright © Marie Athena Occeme | Year Posted 2026
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Marie Athena Occeme Poem
I was born of sun-dust,
that is why my heart holds light.
In my country’s long night,
I dream of a morning
that begins with gentler memories.
Words can rise like seeds,
touching soul, heart, and pain.
Every breath is a promise
to every body and every spirit
heavy with youth.
I do not seek crowns of matter,
I seek the life
meant for all people.
If I fall, I rise again—
this is my belief:
after every pause, I must walk.
Copyright © Marie Athena Occeme | Year Posted 2026
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Marie Athena Occeme Poem
I wake before sunrise, when the rooster’s cry splits the silence like a conch shell blown at dawn. In the yard, the mapou tree stands upright, as if it has an appointment with the sky. Grandmother used to say the mapou never forgets. Its roots guard the secrets of the ancestors even when the winds grow restless.
I walk on the red earth, dust clinging to my heels like the country’s signature. Each grain carries a story: enslaved bodies rising into revolution, women in the markets lifting nations with baskets on their heads, poets writing with hunger in their stomachs but fire in their eyes. The sea is not far — it applauds against the rocks, as if repeating, We are still here.
Amid the noise of tap-taps and vendors calling, “Hot rice and beans!”, I hear a drum in the distance. It is not only music — it is the heartbeat of a people. It sounds even when exhaustion bends our backs, even when politics gathers heavy clouds. The drum knows this secret: roots do not die easily.
I pause and close my eyes. I remember the blue and red flag — not merely colors, but a mark of dignity. They may tear the cloth, but they cannot unravel its meaning.
Red earth beneath my feet,
the mapou grips the years tight —
the sea does not forget.
Copyright © Marie Athena Occeme | Year Posted 2026
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Marie Athena Occeme Poem
The heart questioned — prolonged silence
gestures lay down imaginary evidence
the voice breaks before the word “fidelity”
and every gaze becomes a piece of proof.
I question the obvious: love or habit?
the clauses of desire tangle, fold back
in the shadow of promises, I lay down my doubts
witnesses from the past whisper half-words.
Verdict: to love is not a contract,
but a freedom judged by the lucidity of the heart.
Copyright © Marie Athena Occeme | Year Posted 2026
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Marie Athena Occeme Poem
Night fell softly
on the sand that carried our footprints.
The sea was singing low,
as if it knew our secret.
Let’s, Minichou…
let the night remember us.
You sat beside me,
and even with the wind moving through your hair,
I felt a warmth
that did not belong to the sun.
The griot was hot in our hands,
its spices rising like a promise in the air.
We laughed between bites,
grease shining on our fingers
like stardust on warm skin.
You lifted the coconut to my lips,
cool water spilling slow and sweet—
but it wasn’t the freshness that made me shiver,
it was your gaze lingering on me.
Let’s, Minichou…
stay close enough to hear my heartbeat.
The sand grew warmer
though the moon ruled the sky.
Your arm brushed mine,
soft… almost innocent—
yet nothing about the silence was innocent.
The ocean kept kissing the shore,
wave after wave,
like it was teaching us
how closeness becomes fire.
Let’s, Minichou…
don’t pull away now.
The night leaned in,
our breaths slowly matching,
the space between us disappearing
like a secret finally confessed.
And beneath the patient stars
we learned
that sometimes
two bodies,
two hungers,
two hearts—
only need a whisper:
Let’s, Minichou…
Copyright © Marie Athena Occeme | Year Posted 2026
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Marie Athena Occeme Poem
You stand there,
and everything inside me
falls into the same position as you.
I breathe you in—
your scent, a singular scent,
one my body understands without asking.
You look into my eyes,
and everything buried within me
starts to rise, untamed.
The closer you come,
the more control slips from my hands,
as I surrender my balance to you.
I feel…
so alive
I couldn’t lose this,
not even by an inch.
I love the way, gently,
you caress me,
your tongue passing softly
as if erasing old traces from my past.
When your desire presses forward,
it breaks me open slowly,
like a door
that was never fully closed.
And when emotion spills
across fragments of time,
you don’t just take my body—
you take my heart
without ever forcing it.
Copyright © Marie Athena Occeme | Year Posted 2026
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Marie Athena Occeme Poem
Morning opens over the hills of Port-au-Prince
Light climbs slowly above restless streets
A woman sweeps dust from her small doorway
Children laugh while chasing a worn football
Life here shows both scars and quiet courage
Sometimes the city feels rough and tired
Yet the sea breathes calm near Labadee shores
Friends walk safely through gardens at dusk
Love grows in simple talks beneath warm trees
Take time to visit the peaceful corners
Hold the hands of people who matter most
Care for your body and soften your thoughts
Even on hard days try to keep a smile
Because today is the moment we truly have
And beauty lives even inside struggle
Copyright © Marie Athena Occeme | Year Posted 2026
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Marie Athena Occeme Poem
We see you clearly.
We know your names.
White hair, clean suits—
but a stained conscience.
You sit high on seats of power
while young girls stand on hunger,
on fear,
on dreams still unnamed.
You call it “help,”
but it is trade in pain.
You call it “love,”
but it is a trap for those with no choice.
Need is not consent.
Silence is not agreement.
A hand that takes from weakness
is not a hand—it is a chain.
You buy forced smiles,
you pay for futures in fragments,
then return home
without ever looking back.
But every tear
becomes testimony.
Every broken dream
becomes an accusation.
One day the voices will rise—
not with money,
but with truth.
And history will call your names
not “great men,”
but abusers.
Copyright © Marie Athena Occeme | Year Posted 2026
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Marie Athena Occeme Poem
Warmth speaks like a voice that closes your eyes,
Coldness speaks like a door that never opens again.
One wants to touch gently,
The other turns the heart into ice at night.
Warmth brings heat into someone’s hands,
Coldness makes those same hands feel like stone.
They never make peace, they never stay together,
Because one makes you feel, the other makes you feel nothing.
And when warmth appears, the cold runs away,
Because a heart cannot live in two seasons forever. ???
Copyright © Marie Athena Occeme | Year Posted 2026
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Marie Athena Occeme Poem
In my heart lives a dream looking for hands,
Not to replace it,
But to walk beside it.
Project of the Heart is a Creative Lab
Where ideas become form,
Where words, images, colors, and matter
Meet to give life on every possible printing surface.
This is not a one-person project.
It is an open space
For those who believe creativity
Is a tool for change.
We invite you to take part in the way you can,
As your heart allows:
— Printing materials
— Equipment, paper, ink, machines
— Skills, time, guidance
— Moral support, sharing, visibility
— Or any other form of contribution
You feel called to offer.
Every small gesture creates impact.
Every gift is an act of trust.
Every participation adds a new color
To the prism of this project.
If you cannot give much,
Give what you have.
If you cannot give things,
Give presence.
If you cannot give presence,
Give belief.
Project of the Heart
Is a laboratory of love,
A workshop of hope,
A proof that when hearts unite,
Creation has no limits.
Come.
Create.
Leave your trace.
Copyright © Marie Athena Occeme | Year Posted 2026
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