About Me

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Atlanta, Ga, United States

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

The Rediscovery





How can we forget about her,
She stands firmly with soothing words,
Embracing our hands each day,
Whereas we travel her bountiful curves,

Leading us back to Genesis,
Whispering.. Remember.. Remember,
That though often very rare,
Flowers do flourish, Even during Winter

And how easily it is to forget,
How she allows children to gallop on her attire,
Singing songs of laughter and joy,
Yes until the sun sets and we all retire,

Inviting the presence of her beloved,
She also allows the uncertainty of fools,
Then instantly teaches with love,
Using it's strength as her tool,

Sadly we forget,
That she is left darkened, in solitude, and without family
Her oceans without water,
Her beaches no longer sandy,

With this voice she cries aloud,
Hoping to shake the earth,
Preparing to move the crowd...
From the womb comes forth a "rebirth"

We create her memory,
Resurfacing what has already been done,
Meaning that we can prepare to win this battle,
Or turn away in fear, and run,

She teaches us lessons with time,
She is the sun, the moon, and all things in sight,
She is the heart of a nation,
But more than anything, she is LIFE..

Friday, January 1, 2010

THE FRAME







I stepped out of the heart shaped frame,
The one on the right side her bed,
Leaving her in the portrait alone,
And paced the floor instead,

It had been a while,
Since I walked around her bedroom,
Especially when she was at work,
Or anytime before noon,

I wasn’t there to snoop around,
Instead to listen to the walls sing their song,
Listening carefully to their tone,
To see where I went wrong,

Untying first, and removing my shoes,
I retraced my steps upon the carpet,
Replaying historical arguments,
Refusing to consider her as the target,

The walls led me to the kitchen,
Where she slaved for hours to make dinner by five,
I could’ve given a helping hand, cut up a lemon,
Or put the place settings by her side,

I walked down the hallway listening,
Grabbing two towels, and two washcloths in that order,
Placing them on the restroom countertop,
Lighting a candle, and running warm bath water,

It was obvious that the walls spake,
Reminding me of all things certain, all things pure,
Whether or not it was too late for me,
I was more than uncertain, I was unsure,

But I did walk the place,
With hopes that her anguish towards me might change,
Looking back once more, I stepped into the portrait next to her,
Yes back into the frame..