|
Details |
Genie Maxine Poem
All the small moments we thought didn’t matter,
All the opportunities taken and not taken,
All the choices made and not made,
These are what led to this moment,
Right here and right now.
This is graduation day - a right of passage into adulthood.
We are a mixture of nervous excitement -
ready to fly but afraid of falling.
Some of us seat with crystal white clarity of the future -
knowing the path we will walk.
While some of us seat with dreadful uncertainty -
not knowing where to go but fully aware we must choose a path.
Not knowing what to do -
we’re frozen in place like a deer caught in headlights,
Blinded by possibilities that seem like impossibilities.
But the future is a blank canvas begging to be dirtied with ink.
And you -
you are the master painter!
The path you end up taking is not so straight, so black and white, or so narrow .
No matter how clearly you can see it - It’s a fickle thing,
It will twist and bend when you least expect it.
One moment It will crumple you up into a ball of happiness,
The next moment it will toss you into the storm and tear you at the edges.
But you’ll survive - cuz after all you survived High School -
all the drama, all the midnight study sessions, and all the endless choices - fully intact.
How much worse can it get?
Bring it on world - do your worst!
We’re ready to take flight even if we end up falling!
Copyright © Genie Maxine | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Genie Maxine Poem
Anastasia was all too eager because the dream she dared not speak of in fear of jinxing it was finally coming true.
Back in the princess's quarters, Anastasia was adorned in Princess Layla's former wedding attire. First was the diyi, embroidered with long-tailed pheasants and circular flowers. Then the princess fitted her in pink lotus shoes with flower embroidery on the soles. To complete the look, a phoenix crown adorned with gold dragons, phoenixes made with kingfisher feathers, beaded pheasants, pearls and gemstones was placed on Anastasia's head. It was heavy but worth it. Then a scarlet veil was placed upon her head and over her face as part of the ceremonial dress but also as a disguise. By the time anyone found out about the switch, it would be too late. The princess instructed Anastasia to be cautious before the princess herself snuck off to disguise herself.
The princess scurried to the servants quarters and snatched a male servants clothing, the material was rough but served its purpose. Lastly, she secured her delicate, palely white feet in straw shoes. She already missed her colorful silk shoes - the ones with clouds . Snapping out of her daze at the sound of a horse, she covered her face in soot. Looking like a male peasant, she took a horse and rode off to freedom knowing the perils awaiting those she left behind.
Copyright © Genie Maxine | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Genie Maxine Poem
"Um... I... you see.... um... I." What exactly was Princess Layla supposed to say? The thing is, I kept dreaming about this boy who seems to be in a strange place and somehow I fell in love with him. I was supposed to marry King Sunjong but I couldn't bare the thought of being with another man. I ran away at the first chance I got. While I wandered the country, I heard about a woman referred to as The Lady of the Gods who could grant any wish. Please help me meet my love! I beseech you! No! No! Princess Layla definitely could not say that. If she did, the woman would lock up her up believing the princess was mad.
"You desire to be reunited with your lover?" Said The Lady of the Gods, as she solemnly seeped the bitter concoction.
How did she know? Can she read my mind?
"Are you reading my mind?" Princess Layla asked in a whisper though they were the only ones in the room.
"I can do no such thing."
"But... then... how?"
"Your fate is truly unfortunate. Yue-Lao, God of Love, bound you to that boy who lives in a different time."
"What are you talking about? Say something that makes sense", said Princess Layla furiously. But even as she said all that, she understood. Her love was doomed. Everything she had done was pointless. She was left alone in this world and it was all her fault. By now, everyone she had known had been sentenced to death by the king and it was all her fault.
"Quit your crying. What a disgrace you have turned out. See what your great love that was worthy of throwing away your own parents, leaving them for dead, has got you. If it was in my power, I would not help you."
"What? Are you saying there is a way? So, everything isn't hopeless. Tell me, what must I do?" The Princess's spirit was revived. She just held onto that glimmer of hope her last words had promised.
"Hold your horses. Do you not feel any shame? How can you be so happy?"
"Lady, listen: It's none of your business", Said Princess Layla getting impatient.
"Then, I guess my service is no longer of great necessity to you?" The Princess immediately went on her knees which caught the woman's attention since it was considered great disgrace to bow to someone of a lower rank. However, The Lady of the Gods made no effort to help the princess up. Princess Layla was left to put on a theatrical show. She first pinched herself to make her eyes teary and went on to make a grand speech worthy of a standing ovation.
Copyright © Genie Maxine | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Genie Maxine Poem
Princess Layla, daughter of king Philip, had her life set since the day of her birth. From a young age, she was taught embroidery and the duties of a wife. Now at the age of fifteen, her parents had deemed her ready for marriage. In just a few hours, she would be married to Emperor Yongzheng doomed to a life in The Forbidden City. To a stranger looking from the outside, The Forbidden City looked like an exotic paradise with grand palaces filled with nothing, but beautiful people in luxurious silk clothing; however, Princess Layla knew better than that.
The Forbidden City was truly like a jungle. The complex of buildings within its walls was inhabited by the emperor's countless women who struggled for power and competed for his favor. They plotted people's death and framed others with the sore thought of acquiring power which to these women had become the only means of survival. Just as in the jungle, it's kill or be killed, this law had been adapted into The Forbidden City. Just thinking about it made Layla shatter. In spite of all that, her reluctance to marry the king had more to do with her unwillingness to marry someone else when her heart belonged elsewhere than the fear of living in The Forbidden City. But now her fate was sealed. The king had picked her and no one could save her, not even her father, King Philip, the so-called "Great of Wells" was willing to help her.
"Princess? Princess? Now, where did this girl run off to?" Anastasia, Princess Layla's maid, resulted to muttering to herself when she finally gave up on looking for the princess she was supposed to take care of until the wedding night, which was in just a few hours. Just as Anastasia rounded the corner, she glimpsed a wisp of dark silky hair and breathed a sigh of relief. I thought she had ran away. "Princess, your face is pale. What troubles ail you?"
"You might be a maid, but surely you know that much", was Princess Layla's biting remark.
"What's so bad about being married to the emperor. You get to have your own attendants, wear magnificent jewelry, clothes...", Anastasia kept babbling on without noticing the grim fire dancing in the princess's eyes.
"Do it." An opportunity had presented itself to Princess Layla. If she were to not take it, the gods would surely punish her.
"What?"
"Marry the emperor." Princess Layla made sure to carefully enunciate each syllable, making it as tempting as possible; although, it wasn't necessary.
Copyright © Genie Maxine | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Genie Maxine Poem
In the passage of 12 full moon, Princess Layla traveled along the forest hidden from sight, her only companion Lucy, the Great Black Steed. But as much as she loved her steed, she felt quite lonesome.. Fear gripped her heart with each passing day and now she was running out of money. To further complicate matters, her journey was leading her to the flat plains of Prydain. Now she would not be able to sleep in the forest which had become her cloak and blanket.
Princess Layla finally reached her destination, Prydain. It was said to be filled with celestial beings who could communicate with the gods, but as Princess Layla approached the town, it seemed desolate and abandoned. Yet in some strange form of the word, it was peaceful and calming. She looked around but could not see a single soul. Just when she had made the choice to explorer the run down, rutty houses, a figure in black standing by one of the houses pointed to something in the distance. Following the extended finger, Princess Layla spied something that resembled a house off in the distance. "What...", she tried to ask, but the words died on her lips because at that exact moment the owner of the finger slammed the door shut. The sudden outburst almost knocked the wind out of princess Layla and caused her to bite her tongue. "Maledizione! That was rude! sheesh." Deciding she looked ridiculous standing there yelling at nobody, Princess Layla set off to the house in the distance hoping against all hope the person she was looking for resided there.
The princess traveled for a good half-hour before coming to a grand temple with the inscription: Temple of heaven. An old woman came out and guided her to one of the rooms. Princess Layla was instructed to seat and served green tea. She took a sip of the tea, forcefully swallowing the bitter concoction. She could not afford to insult this woman who if Princess Layla played her cards right, might become her savior. "Princess Layla, daughter of King Philip the Great of Wells, what brings your kind to my humble abode?" Asked the old woman.
Copyright © Genie Maxine | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Genie Maxine Poem
"Do you really think I am that heartless to just leave my parents in danger without any shame? Guilt? I felt all of that. Many times in my journey I almost turned back, but I could not win against my heart's desires. I could not avoid the fate the gods had laid out for me. I too am a victim." At this point, Princess Layla was bawling her eyes out. She knew she had the Lady of the Gods eating out of her hands, when the old woman bent down and hugged her tightly whilst also crying.
"It's okay, my child. Your parents are alive. The king did not sentence them to death, because the empress bore a son resulting in the pardon of everyone who had committed a crime.Thank the merciful gods." The news of her parents survival did nothing for Princess Layla as they too had sacrificed her to the king , but she was glad her escape had not caused any bloodshed.
In the moment of distraction, the old witch raised a dagger and mercilessly stabbed Princess Layla in the back. "Wh..y", the princess inquired as color drained from her rosy cheeks. The old witch stood and left but as her silhoutte faded to a black shadow, her final words rang loud in dying ears. "A princess who betrays her nation deserves nothing less than death."
"Outrageous! What kind of play has such a... a stupid end?" That's all Princess Jasmine could think of as she watched the princess take her final breath on stage. She finally understood why her mom insisted she see the play. It was a warning, a friendly warning. As the truthness of it all hit her, Princess Jasmine was ever so thankful to be sitted. Her insides felt queasy as fear gripped her. She could suddenly feel a cold blade on her warm skin. No. No. No! She had to get out of here. Tell Robert that they couldn't run away together. Tell him she loved him but had to marry the king. How could she betray her kingdom? Granted she hadn't done anything but she'd thought of it and mother knew. Oh, no! Mother knows. Is Robert okay? She wouldn't do anything to him, would she? Oh, no! No. NO. As her thoughts spiraled out of control, Princess Jasmine stumbled out of the suffocating theater like a drunkard. In her hurried, haphazard exit, she bumped into a dark figure. For a moment, a handsome smile invaded her line of vision. When she tried a sorry, she really regretted scoffing down all the those cakes they gave out during the cursed play.
Copyright © Genie Maxine | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Genie Maxine Poem
Everyone has a story. This is mine. It is not a fairy tale with magical slippers or charming princes, like Cinderella's. My story doesn't have a happy ending, I reckon it never did.
From the moment I was conceived, I proved a problem. Mother was bedridden for the 10 months she carried me. Her morning sickness just about done her in, but I guess it wanted me to finish up the job. For one night, when nary a soul was in the world of the living, I popped out her womb; she never breathed again. Father was torn. He was a strong, proud man, too big for his own good. But from that day, always, his shoulders drooped, and his eyes no longer shone bright. Eye sockets sunken and hollow cheeks, he was the very image of a dead man.
Copyright © Genie Maxine | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Genie Maxine Poem
“The devil is alive”, someone yelled out. A congregation downing crosses crossed their hearts and prayed to God to extinguish the devil. Right then and there, a sensation ran from my toes to my head and I knew it was coming. But it couldn’t come, at least not then. So I constricted my hateful body and willed it to listen to me, but it wasn’t working. Desperate and afraid, my voice sprung to life. “Miss… Miss”, I tried again, “Miss Ava”. “Miss Ava!”.
“Shush, child.” At some point during the commotion she had come to stand beside me. She looked out to the crowd of men and women with firm determination and addressed them carefully. “Friends, why have you gathered here?”
A man at the forefront completely covered in black stepped forward. “Miss Ava, you are a devout God-fearing woman. You would not have me believe it has influenced you. That you have been corrupted by this devil.” His words sent the crowd into a fury rumble. Voices bounced off each other and somewhere in there someone mentioned father had been possessed by the devil. For he was not a man to give into worldly temptations.
Miss Ava stepped forward as though some silent consensus had been reached. The men with their torches and ropes stepped forward. And I called out to Miss Ava but she never once glanced back, only hesitated in her steps, but nonetheless persisted in her retreat. Tied to the pillar, the house and my body were engulfed in flames and mercilessly eaten alive. Skin, flesh, and bones were reduced to nothing but ashes; every trace of our existence gone in the blink of an eye. Dead and buried without it even costing a single dime.
That night a wild storm hit. The wind raged and howled like a wild beast constrained. In it’s wake, 10 lives were claimed including Miss Ava’s. My story became a folklore, something children and grown folks (who should’ve known better) told each other to scare one another as though it never happened. They passed it off as The Curse of the Devil, but that was far from the real story. Now you know my story, I hope yours is as happy as mine. I mean it. Really, I do.
Click. Send. Are you sure you want to publish this story? Yes.
Mary Jane stretched and yawned. “Ahh, after five years of wandering around aimlessly, I can finally rest in peace.”
Copyright © Genie Maxine | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Genie Maxine Poem
As the years passed by, father trusted my upbringing to a nurse while he nursed his wounds with drops of liquor. In the first six years of my existence, he never once spared me a thought, but sometimes he would sneak glances at me when he thought I wasn't looking. Maybe he was curious to see what the monster who stole away his happiness looked like. And a monster, I was. For at the delicate age of 10, I'd grown no more than three feet. I was an alien among my species. My head a giant apple with lazy eyes and a mouth that never missed a chance to quiver. Even stranger, not a strand of hair ever grew on my unearthly body, and my arms and legs, well, they were something to behold; just four sticks stuck to a bony structure.
My nurse, Miss Ava, was a light in my humdrum, dreary existence. She changed my diapers, fed me, and even looked after me during my spells. My spells followed the pattern of a storm. One moment I'd be completely still for a few seconds or minutes, but then my body would jerk, twist, and quiver of it's own volition. It's in those moments, when the voice hidden in the deepest part of my soul found its way through the tunnels and mazes and finally made its way to the surface; out my paper-thin pale lips. But the voice was not my own. Some force unknown to me seized my lips and the traitorous lips complied. So, I screamed and cried out till my throat was hoarse, till I no longer shook and twisted, but was a quivering mess on the bed drenched in my own sweat.
Miss Ava was under the delusion that I was special. For she took it upon herself to teach me to read. No God fearing man should live not knowing the word, so she put it. Everyday she would read to me out of the Holy Bible and make me point to the words she read out loud. She'd given up on teaching me to write claiming it was too tricky a business to start off with. But I had the vaguest suspicion it was mostly because of the thumb on my dominant hand that would've been as useful were it not there. One day, father walked in on one of our sessions, and with a slight slight slur to his words he said, "What's goin' on here"?
Copyright © Genie Maxine | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Genie Maxine Poem
"Mary Jane here is learning to read", replied Miss Ava sheepishly with a slight shade of pink in her cheeks; subtle, but it told all it needed to tell. After all, she too was a lonely widow nearing her forties. Father threw a look my way as though noticing my presence for the first time. Then he unscrewed his face and once again faced Miss Ava with raised eyebrows. With renewed confidence, Miss Ava persisted. "The Good Lord gave this child a mighty gift; she can talk in tongues. And I's here gonna make damn sure she knows it.." As she continued to ramble on, father stumbled out the room, and I noticed, with mild curiosity, he was becoming as skinny as I was. Maybe everyone was like me, and it just took them longer to get there.
Copyright © Genie Maxine | Year Posted 2017
|
|