https://drive.google.com/file/d/1m-rNURPhEDZNE7Zr9B6bPYEu1NKRGdJZ/view?u...
The above links to the spoken word audio of this piece
When you're away
And I've so much to say
I count down each day
'til you're here
Oh please just come back
Everythin's thrown off track
None o' the others know how
To soothe me
(Soothe me)
I lie awake
Most evenings
Restless, annoyed and alone
My heart aches
Brain's seething
Why can't you just come home?
You're here for a bit
A few hours then you split
And I have to admit
It's bittersweet
Until the next we meet
Our memories play on repeat
While I miss you
20230805T2242
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1m0bFqUF1aN4KoWg7LjURu_AgrmfCyA7_/view?u...
The above links to an audio presentation of this spoken word piece
Wind blows
Chime's tones
A restless night
Is calmed
Evening insects
Finally sing
No'ore hibernation
Officially Spring
Light blanket throw
Cucumber essence
Refresh
Be still
Presence
Conscious breath
Scan the body
Soft light
Amber luminescence
Billowing curtain
Zephyr streams
Eyes shut to rest
Imagination dreams
20230222T0031
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1uZNG5QdqH4jmBcQD9-JTgV046y5-ulAp/view?u...
The above is a link to an audio file in my google drive, hopefully it works
Unburdened by time
What's a second?
What's a month?
What's our life?
How sublime
My time with you felt
Not sped up, nor slow
Not feeling exactly
Correct though
Time with you
Feels timeless
No face
To face
No hands
To handle
Nothing wasted
Nor both-ends
Burning of the candle
Time to pursue
Never rushed
Never dallied
Plans to hang
Never hung
Just rallied
Unfettered
We flit
Feeling free from
Father Time
Greeted us gayly
Granting gifts
To gather
At our prime
Time with you
Feels timeless
Indeed
Time with you
Is blissfully
Freed
From
Time
20230516T1917
I don't have that knack
The knack for freedom of expression. Something holds me back.
The possibility of failure and rejection.
I'll do readings all day long: there I can safely hide behind the mic and the paper.
But no, not performances because someone may see that this calm and poise is nothing more than vapor.
I'm all smoke and mirrors--an artfully contrived veneer.
Behind the mask I'm trembling and overwhelmed by fear.
So part of me is still hiding. Yes. That must be it.
The artfully concealed self-deprecation and doubt, I can't allow anyone to see it.
What if I mess up? Or forget my words and freeze?
What if a knowing eye catches mine, strips me bare with a glance and brings me to my knees?
So I'll take along my armor and pray that enough of me still rises from this damp and sweaty, tightly-clenched page,
Deep breaths, girl, and slow.your.pulse.--there's no escaping now--the MC just called your name and it's time to take the stage.
I went shopping with my mother today and
I meant to buy her things to
appreciate who she is but she scared me
when she told me to bring her food
from the car because she felt like
she was going to faint so i was angry,
angry at her weakness and for mine for becoming
scared because i realized that i have an
age, a number that i fill in on job applications,
and that my birthdate publicizes to the world, especially
on facebook, and it says i am old, i am mature, i am
a young adult but my heart stops when
my mother tells me she may be sick
because for a second, i worry not only about her
but about me and how i would live without her
and everytime i was impatient, everytime i was mean i
wish i could take it back, erase my impatience and
erase her weariness and make her better, heal her soul
so she won't be sick so she'll be with me so
I can focus, not on bringing food from the car fast,
but on buying her things to show my appreciation.
The world watches me
As I sit near the windowsill
The flowers coming into bloom
Just like our love...
The sun shines down on me
Warming my cold skin
I sit here, looking out
Praying for the day...
For the day we can met
And hold each other gently
As the heavens watch over us
And the wind sings...
But till that day comes
I will sit here near the windowsill
And write my letters to you
As our love grows stronger...
Sitting here bored
I listen to her talk
My work is done
But not the essay
Class should be over
For we are all ready
To pack our bags
And head on home
But this wont happen
Till the bell rings
Or till Ms. Versley
Says we can leave
And till that time
I may take a nap
As she rambles
On and on and on