Belisama
(Celtic Goddess of Lakes and Rivers, Fire, Crafts and Light)
I am from the forest,
gravel path, tunnel of twisted branches
decaying wood stumps.
Stench of dead earth.
Mucky, stale moss-filmed swamps.
Bullfrogs croak.
Goose droppings.
Criquets chirp.
I am from the darkness,
traveling that endless gravel path.
Where are you light?
I search for you.
My truth lives there.
I only see you — round eyes, dimples.
Man in the moon far out of reach.
Chilling loneliness.
I am from that blustering wind.
Pushes against my back.
Strikes my face.
Carries me to where I need to be.
Am I getting any closer,
to where my tranquility reigns?
Machine in my chest pounding and pounding.
Keep running.
I am from the hope where dreams flourish.
Is there a better road,
for destiny to follow?
My compass broken.
Meant for so much more than this.
Must get away,
to find where true aspirations take shape.
Is there such a place?
I am from the sun,
his sweet rays not warm my bitter heart.
Endless day?
Final hour?
Both, weight of boulder resting atop my shoulders.
So heavy a carry.
One foot in front of the other.
Lead the way.
I am from that which has no name,
for I scream, and I scream.
Bloody screams!
Throat clenched.
Do you not hear me?
Echoes carry, but High Fathers you turn.
Walk away.
You, my ignorance and betrayal.
I am from the water,
whose rhythmic current grants me balance.
Place I go to achieve my enigmatic calm.
Draws me in.
Only feels right that I follow.
Addicted to its refreshing bliss.
Clothes my nude vulnerabilities.
Such serenity.
I am from the out-stretched limb,
it lies across that gravel path.
I exhaustedly travel.
No part of any plan.
YOU made me stumble and fall!
Through tears,
I see your hand gently reach for mine.
Rise!
I am from my companions,
hands clasped, they travel alongside me.
Otherwise my journey fruitless.
May I come with you?
Not sure how to answer.
I have no confirmed destination.
Continue moving then.
Let’s run!
I am from potion of innocence naivety created,
conjured by the Devil.
Sick, twisted games.
Fool I was!
Believed I had the Angel sent by Hosanna.
Woken by truth’s alarm.
Heart, shattered to shards,
by evil’s mighty anvil.
I am from the chaos,
of which Man created so that he may dwell.
Fear, my hell now.
Black veil masks the misery.
Spirit frozen still.
Silenced.
Friends, I cry out.
You no longer wish to remain.
I am from the burning torch,
that rejuvenates my inner flame.
Those who always believed.
They carry and stay.
Hitting rock bottom.
What become of your heart now, woman?
Guarded.
Who could blame?
I am from the book of wisdom and knowledge,
now forced to read.
He and others before.
Ate my soul.
Buried the bones.
Much to be learned, gained.
How far have you come?
Mere middling, I’m afraid.
I am from the death that birthed mourning,
leaving my mind in black of night.
In constant belief.
Had the right.
He returned, cursed monster,
to dance within my head.
Put me to bed.
Then fled.
I am from my sisters,
whose power and enlightenment took me from isolation.
His damning manipulation.
Lonely, but no longer alone.
Others share the story.
Shackled by legacy of predestiny.
Don’t you stay
Be free!
I am from the drowning rains,
crafted by words taken from that wise book.
They cleanse, mend.
Muds from years of self scrutiny.
Leave stains.
Difficult to remove.
Here, a brush.
Scrub away the pains.
I am from the blade,
it slices as sharply as words crafted from my tongue.
Temporary Man.
He surges my imprisoned rage.
Why so angry?
For years his acts of tyranny.
Gifted me scorn.
Now injustice – no more!
I am from the crescent moon,
with its light of ambition I create new realities.
What is your fate, woman?
A decision not set.
In stone.
A journey, not destination.
Pictures not seen in cards.
MY manifestation.
I am from the fragile glass,
so transparent, I see clarity in the reincarnate.
Who are you?
I am Woman.
Closer to whom I was born to be.
You are not child, warrior?
Lover?
Why, I am all three.
I am from the phoenix,
a symbol for all those who tried to burn me.
Know I have risen.
No longer a pile of ashes.
Find your light yet?
Been running toward this thing.
But it lived within me, beside me.
This entire time.
Wish You Could See
You told me things when I was young.
Remember?
“If you learn nothing else from me,
it will be to know how to have fun.”
It was a youth, however, unfounded.
Wasted.
Wanted to be wise and do everything you do.
Couldn’t grow up too soon.
All the places you promised we’d go.
Adventure!
Memories conjured I store away.
Yes, I miss that child I once knew.
Do you know of this road I travel now?
Haste.
It’s the sands of time,
that quickly flow — I chase.
I’d love to go back to that girl.
Splendid.
Independent, innocent, not idle.
Meant for so much more.
Assume you and me share a story.
Brace.
Myself now for my new reality.
I fight Revolutions.
Learned of a secret you kept hidden.
Tortured.
Little girl wrongly touched.
It remained your crutch.
Not your blame — wish you knew.
Carried
By fathers and mothers long buried.
Dead end conjured by self shame.
Naivety an evil heirloom.
Rendered.
Daughters, theirs after, condemned.
Unrenowned punishment now, and then.
Taste.
Years of blood stains, my own abuse.
But one day all that suffering.
Put to good use.
Today I see the evils of their ways.
Demon.
I’m no longer exposed.
Wicked birthed girl into woman.
Pain, agony, this soul bear.
Blinded by what feared mere fate.
Based
life on outcomes allowed others to create.
Rearing me into my own state.
Others tried stealing my soul as they yours.
Clench her.
Tie her down with control.
Know that blinding darkness is left behind.
Chase
That light and break that mold.
Let the fake create their own world.
You may no longer be in this place we see.
A body you no longer keep.
Visitor
We now explore great feats in my sleep.
A life others no longer predict.
Embrace!
All the states of tomorrow.
Wish you could see all those places I will go.
Tuesday’s Conversation With Me
(A personal therapy session)
Guess he’s not
Interested
I mean
he’d email
he’d text
He
has my number.
If he was
Interested
there’d be more
Communication
Right?
Was it
something I said?
No
I was just being
Me.
Take it
Or
Leave it
These men
put ‘em
in a corner.
Not like Baby.
Go over there!
Don’t want to
Deal
with you.
You’d just
get in my
Way
So stay there
far away,
over there,
in that dark
Corner
Where you belong.
Where you’ve put
Me
Before.
Shed those
Tears
Months of therapy.
Learned it was
Ok.
To cry,
ya know.
Why?
It’s true strength
Conviction
my therapist said,
all those
Years
I hid
those tears.
Under my bed.
Did no
Good
No one understood
Agony of a
Child
still carried
even after I
Married.
Thought I won.
Surprise!
Didn’t beat me.
Didn’t cheat.
But he was no —
Prize
Treated me like
Shit
I was in it
Alone
Then I met
the married
One
He unlike any
Other
Hours spent on that
Phone
Thought he got me
I got
Him
His name
Could go
Here
But fuck
‘im!
Ghosted me
when things got
Real
I was honest
Too honest!
Just tell him
how you
Feel
He couldn’t deal.
So he left.
Came back.
Forgiveness.
We’ll be just,
Friends.
So surreal.
Never felt so
Connected
to anyone
Else
Things went
too far,
too soon.
Sick wife,
had to attend.
I was angry.
Insecure
Didn’t want to succumb
to His
Lure
Being nothing
to Him
but his
Whore
He texted me
Goodbye.
Didn’t have balls
to face
Me
Took my power.
Called him a
Coward
Cut him out.
Psycho
Bitch
I am.
Regret it
Today
Never to be heard
or seen
Again
Then came
the other.
Not one, but
Two.
His name
should go,
Here
But fuck
‘im
Too!
Yeah, I was
“Feely”
Too much.
Had a hunch
He’d walk
Only to cum
Back
Yeah, he liked
That
But that was
After
I met the
Monster
Friends said
Girl, gotta put the
Memory
of that married
One
to bed.
You deserve
Love,
they said.
So that monster
Came
Promised to
put the
Pain
of the others
to shame
Said he’d never
be the
Same
Turns out
he was
Worse
My perpetual
Curse
All those lies
he told.
Mouth full of
Flies
Drew me in,
only to make
My head
My heart
Spin!
Made it out
to be
My
Fault
Salt on the
Wound
Took that hurt,
from previous
Men
Turned it ‘round,
even used his
Kids
as a
Weapon
His intensions
Sick
Twisted Fuck
No wait!
That’s what he
Offered
to do
with my best
Friend
Gaslighting
Sound frightening?
Hells yes!
How he got
the best of
You
they said
Truth
it was ABUSE
I later
Read.
Time to face
Reality
Didn’t know
Better
How I was
Bred
Teach a child
the sky is
Red
when it’s really
Blue
They have no
Clue
It’s not
Normal
So old
to learn this
Just
Now
Back on leather
Couch
I confessed
Depressed
Wanna go home.
But you’re here
That’s my
Fear
Why the
Tears?
Strength,
ya know?
Not weakness.
Next came
the other
Blow
Shoulda never said
hello.
Another
ASSHOLE
These narcissists,
like to
Play
My whole life
I’ve had to
Pay
that Devil
for my
Sins
Can’t ever
Win
Me and men,
we don’t
Mix
Occasional sex
with Fuck ‘im
Two
It’s my
Fix
Now
C’mon Nicole,
take a
Bow
You’ve survived.
Victim of
Him
No longer
slave of his
Whim
Memory of first
Him
I still carry
Never marry
Again
Will you?
Nope
Failed loves,
Rope
‘Round my neck.
You
Wreck!
Who would
Accept
this story you
Tell?
Hell,
not even
You!
Loved too fast
Too hard
Too much
YOU
did it all
WRONG
Same old
Song
Never learned
Burn after
BURN
They told
YOU
So
Come squawk
of the
Crow
Never forget
You,
put to the
Test
Man who won’t
Text
Just like
all the
Rest
This feeling of
Lonely
I have no
Right
Must
Fight
Sit at the
Table
It’s Tuesday,
and just not
Able
To move
What more
is there to
Prove?
This heart
Bruise
Don’t fight it.
Cry
Yes,
mistakes made,
but did your
Best
Is it wrong?
Bare a soul
Want to
Share
This life
Be accepted
for all your
Strifes?
Be a
Wife?
Fuck you!
I shout
Years of self
Doubt
You’re just
Human
I said —
Nicole, for once…
I
Forgive
YOU!
What You Were Showing Me
“Hey Pumpkin!” “Hey Grampa!” Jingle. Jingle. Jingle. “Got your homework done?” Grin of a sly fox. “Yeah, Grampa.” “Goin’ to Price Chopper. Gramma needs somethin’ at the store. Why don’t you come?” “O.K.” That crane machine was callin.’ Furry blue dog. No one was takin’ it on us. “Don’t hog that machine,” I heard under his breath. Man kept pumpin’ in those quarters. “Go up. A touch to the right.” “Grandpa don’t tell him, he’ll get it.” “Don’t sweat it, Pumpkin, we’ve got this.” He gave up. We were next up. Ching. Ching. Grampa slid those quarters into the slot. Musta had at least fifty. His right pants pocket big and bulky. Sure enough. Blue fluff drops from the claw into that slot. Me and Grampa that was our thing — the occasional fling. With that crane machine.
Ring! Ring! “Hey Grampa!” “Hey Pumpkin!” “Can you bring me to the store?” “What for?” “Gotta get the decorations for my Sweet 16 party.” Needed my counterparty. “Grampa be right there.” It wasn’t long. Before that cream-colored Crown Vic rolled up. The driveway. Didn’t know until that day. He lay in the box. Grampa was eatin’ dinner, but wouldn’t stay. Left half a plate. Told Gramma, “I gotta date. With Pumpkin.”
“Hey Pumpkin!” “Yeah, Grampa?” “Come ‘ere. Grampa needs to tell ya somethin.’” “O.K.” “Listen, next year you might be goin’ off to college. Far off. You might be stayin’ at the dorms. There’ll be boys there.” Saw that tear. In his eye, but didn’t want to stare. “Now listen. Those boys try to touch you, this is what you do. Pretend to hold a knife in your hand. Swoop underhanded. See? Won’t create a shadow. One hard blow. Grampa learned it in the War. But just know this…Anything ever happens, Grampa’s just a call. Away. And before you know it. He’ll be there. Faster than lightning.”
Grampa didn’t make it. Through that summer. Taken too soon. We just assumed. No more
suffering. No more pain. Better not to have him, than have him that. Way. More than twenty-two
years have passed. And when I lie on that pillow at night. I still pretend it’s your lap.
Grampa. Why did it take me so long? To see. What you were tryin’ to show. Me? Lesson
learned. You wanted me to know when I found. The man I deserve. But Grampa. Your little
girl. She hasn’t found him. Yet.
What the…?
Today I wore white sandals. Six inches of snow on the sidewalk. They went perfect with my
black bathing suit. What a beautiful day for a funeral. Went for a walk and found a box at the
side of the semi-circle. But nothing was inside it. Where’s Schrodinger’s cat? Better off dead.
Bitter-sweet! Found my adult coloring book with green suns and purple Barbie faces. Blue hair
scribbled outside the lines. Chuck Baudelaire found it quite bourgeoisie. Purchased it for a cool
million. At least he saved two bucks. Critics have no friends and no enemies, which makes no
one. Shot him over my dead body. Ew, look – blood! I’m starving. Sat down at the five-star
restaurant and ordered jumbo shrimp. Plates weren’t big enough to hold it. Started a conversation
with a gentleman wearing a polka-dotted dress dancing on the table behind me. Left his wife for
his mother-in-law. It’s that nursing home she lives in where he found his youth. See that 25-year-old waiter over there? Earned his doctorate in quantum physics. Rich cougar did him. Say what?!
Paper Makes Fire
Clang
Goes the dime.
The spectacled man reached for a clean sheet.
Vintage Eaton.
Placed it within the long cylinder roller.
Crank
Crank
It rolled around the platen of that Royal Quiet Deluxe.
Click
Click
Click
His fingers flew feverishly from key to key.
Sigh
“Once upon a time…”
No
“One dark and stormy night…”
No
No!
Must think.
Only thirty minutes
before that dime runs out.
The writer knew he had to make.
Impact.
Catch his audience.
FIRE!
A story of banned books.
Click
Click
Riiiip
That’s no good!
There was a firefighter…
No!
More pyromaniac.
He loved watching the flames dance before his eyes.
Red
Heat
Passion
“It was a pleasure to burn…”
Yes!
Yes!
A fire
Man
Montag
He falls in love,
adores the very element he was meant to fight.
Hate
Lust
Paper moves now.
Right to left,
on the carriage at the back.
Pause
Think
Continue
A government oppresses.
Knowledge.
What they don’t know,
won’t kill them.
Literally
Until a fateful meeting with a young girl.
Clarisse
She is unlike any other.
Speaks of things.
Click
Click
he never considered.
Go
No!
Cannot remove her from his mind.
Home to wife.
Asleep on pills.
Why?
Denial of disillusionment?
Yes
That’s it!
Click
Click
A wiseman.
Granger.
Helps fireman see the errors,
of their violent ways.
Destroy
Suppress
“It doesn’t matter what you do.”
He said.
“So long as you change
Something
Craank
from the way it was before you touched it.”
Click
Click
Like this once blank sheet of paper.
Yes
Keep going.
Granger speaks of a place for the soul to go,
when the body dies.
Montag is bothered.
Something important.
Something real.
Fireman, no longer desires to be,
status quo.
Rebel
He joins the resistance.
That’s it!
Click
Clunk
Dammit!
Don’t quit now.
Swish
Swish
Reached into his bag of dimes,
pulled one out.
Clink.
Crank
Crank
So astounding.
That single sheet of Vintage Eaton,
its words still read.
Sixty-five years
And nine days, 980 dimes
Later
Still known for the temperature,
it could all burn.
451
Degrees.
Point Me in the Right Direction
I got daggers
and wands not for others,
but for me. Don’t ask what
it all means. Got some Swords too.
Eight. Guess that means hesitation
and entrapment. Things beyond
my control. Let’s see what else
my future holds…
Obstacles? I got the King of Pentacles.
He translates to confidence, a card
of worldly success. Achievements
abound, satisfaction to be found.
Past foundations let’s see…Eight
of Pentacles – applying oneself
fully to whatever is the center
of attention. Did I mention,
I got the Lovers to represent
my past events? Conflicting
choices made in life it says.
A potential partner
turned down
ramifications
not taken lightly.
How haunting,
and true, should I
continue? Nine of swords,
oh great. The hate and fear,
difficult for me to see clear.
Must learn to put my past behind
me or consign myself to misery.
Sounds like a man who won’t leave
my mind. Guess I better place him
aside, although I’ve already tried.
Next card is future that finds me
a Chariot, about overcoming
conflict, moving forward
in a desired direction.
The Querant or
You. Provides
truths on how
you feel. Ace
of Cups came up.
Must trust
inner feelings.
Radiating power. Let your heart lead the way. A time of offering to help others,
don’t ration your positive energy. Friends and family the Page of Cups is
what I get. May receive the credit I deserve – a messenger of creative
beginnings. Hopes, fears and ideals…Oh no the Ten of Swords!
Wait, don’t make haste.
Doom may not be all
there’s room. For fear
not, darkness may
soon be dispelled.
With each new
beginning there must
be an end. Preach! Now,
the final outcome – the
Ten of Wands, reach your
goals and enhance your
life. Completion of a cycle.
The end of struggle. Hope
to reap my deserved rewards.
The Katniss Side of Life
Chirrup
Hissss
Hey Person
I’m here
Look, down here!
Now pay attention.
Person…
It’s my convention
to guide you
on what you need
to do.
You see, in this place
I. Rule.
You fool, now you know.
I run the show.
You pay the rent
All your money spent
on food and toys
I’m anything but coy
when it comes to
the services I employ.
Time to herd you
into that kitchen
I’m hungry
So feed me!
Riiip
goes the can…
Is it salmon?
Poultry cuts,
perhaps turkey guts — with cheese!
Please!
Squirrel!
Scatter to my window.
Rerrr…Ouch! Head blow
against the glass
Let me catch a glance
I stare and stare…
Nope, nothin’ there.
Sigh
Later I’ll try —
Wait
I’m still hungry!
Person!
Wheres’s m’ food?
Dat pink or brown goo.
Ah…that’s the goood
Stuff
Fluff that tail
Person, don’t you bail.
You sit here and pet me
Please
Oh Yeah…
Scratch there
Right on my derriere
Rerr! Scratch Scratch
I’m done with you!
Had ‘nuff of you, fool.
Blurrrp. Blurrp. Blurrp.
Person, ain’t I cute?
Who could refute?
I roll over — goo and goo,
and you say, “I love you.”
Know how to get my way.
Can’t stay!
Rerr, gotta get m’ mouse!
I crouch…and I crouch
Gonna get you…
Boom!
I pounce that thing
Room-to-Room.
Fling it in the air,
like I don’t care.
Ck-Ckk-Ckkk…
Damn hair ball!
Wrawl! Wrawl!
Ok, better now.
Roll on my back,
Scat!
Oh wait, that’s a shadow
Knead my blanket dough
Now its time to snoop
Wait!
First, I gotta poop!
Off to my box
with tiny rocks.
Quit yer bitchin’
Person
That scattered litter’s
my artistic skitter.
No mess, I can attest!
I’ll do as I please…
Life with my person,
is a breeze.
Flip the Switch
This is my maddening day. Whistle blown. Thrown under a bus. Nobody wants to hear the screams. Demons disguised in angel voices. We all make choices, right and wrong. But some crouch in corners, behind trees – out of sight. They wait for that opportune moment to strike. Guard down, they take us with blinders as to how far we’ve fallen. Oh “so nice,” they meant no trouble. How quaintly subtle their inimical intent. Yet they’re hell bent on being part of my horror. Just do me a favor —
Flip my switch!
Did you think I never desired to die? Dream about the peace? That instantaneous release of the cynical beast? Not a new beginning. Not a do-over. Just an enabled end. I descend to a padded box, head rests still on satin casket pillow. Some days I’ve wanted nothing more. So you have no clue what’s in store when you cross that line. There will be no warning. No sign. Rage blinds a heart once innocent and naive. Won’t let you be another who desires to destroy me. Do me a favor —
Flip my switch!
Bitch! Do you think you’ll be the last? You cast your shadow on an already darkened soul. A bowl filled with nothing but pits and stems. Clueless as to the education I have evolved. Involved myself with mind dances of revenge for countless before. You’re no different than any of the others. Love your brothers? Fuck no! Lessons blown on a Sunday School child. Mannerisms obsessed with protection from the descension of perpetual pain. You’re merely another blood stain. So just do me a favor —
Flip my switch!
Overreaction? Perhaps that’s the faction of my philosophy. A decry to what has become the societal norm. A storm that must rage on, conjured by a girl uncaged. Big Brother, you keep watching. C’mon…You’re so inviting. I let you in only to intensify my scorn. Born from the hell that hath no fury. Hatchets never buried. My protection from your injection of misery. That day has far come when said I’ve had enough. So there! I’ve called your bluff. Slough off your imperial reign. So…Do me a favor —
Flip my switch!
Swear I’ll never be what I was before. Punching bag. Door mat. The chair where your fat ass sat. Keep me down? Not anymore! Do me a favor —
Flip my switch!
Psycho bitch? Think what you please. That’s all right with me. Just adds spice to my flavor. So, why don’t you just do me a favor —
Flip my switch!
Just be sure that finger moves downward. Switch pointed to the floor. No more worries. If you plan to end me, better make sure it’s for good. Understood?!
So…go ahead.
Just Flip. My. Switch.
BITCH!
This is Me
My head
Thoughts
Wrapped like
Strings
‘Round pegs
Tune
My
Soul
Metallic
Veins carry sounds
My heart sings from neck to
Belly, rounded curves shape my breasts.
Scrollwork marks the beginning
And end of my waist.
Hips and rump
Come together, one large bump.
As rounded curve glides into another endless road
Traveled, those veins carry notes of a life loved
and troubled down to the tailpiece, but that is
not where I cease. To exist as a master
piece it takes time as fingers glide
and F-holes ring my theme.
To finally stand tall
and proud
take
a
bow
Poetry
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