poet, awakening

cursed consciousness
tracing origins to ooze
amphibious ancestors lugging
scales from swamp
they didn’t laugh
but perhaps they cried
just a little
at becoming
boundaried
circumscribed from
universal detritus
unlimited variation
gnawing, digesting, creeping
in alien bodies
through meaningless
time
until all at once
i
sit up in bed
grey matter zinging
why why why
worries nobody can solve
that don’t matter
in the vastness of space
or do i mean time?
as sleep flees
i think i feel
connections
long forgotten
the matter of me
yearning
meaningless body
staring into darkness
wondering
where my elementary
particles
were born
and why
there is a soundtrack
playing in my head

1SageFemme All Rights Reserved 2017

Part 5: Found

IMG_2019

skip ahead three decades
and you will find her,
calm and filled with wonder
her hands having become tools;
fingertips alive with a seventh sense
able to feel the barest palimpsest
engraved in dark places

the journey has been long
and she is tired,
having released many incarnations of her soul
to create this opus:

the angry girl burst
and disappeared
after she forgave herself;

the scholar dove,
swimming like breathing,
on instinct;

the lover was troublesome,
with a penchant for rescuing broken souls
thereafter enabling all manner
of bad behavior
for which she paid dearly;

becoming a mother healed her,
for in mothering her children,
she mothered herself;

within the mess of life and release,
she grew her spirit
until one midsummer day,
she awoke,

tears streamed down her cheeks,
not of sorrow,
for she was love,
in its purest form

her soul vibrated,
rippling over her dear one,
asleep beside her,
caressing her two
beautiful boys

she felt everything;
she crackled with life,
and would have roared with it
had it been morning,

she awoke
to the present

now

she is calm and filled with wonder
for life is love
and love is life
and she has found her place
in both.

1Sagefemme All Rights Reserved 2017

Bacon Fingers

There was a piece of gristle stuck in her teeth
She picked at with that chipped fingernail
Three purple fingers and a purple thumb,
one pink ring finger blinking insanity
Sheep to the slaughter
Give me a
Break

Just paint them all beige
Like that joke about the Sistine Chapel
Use a roller.
If you want art,
Rip the stoppers off and have at it
Make them sparkly and chunklish

The gristle would have been endearing
But she was vegan six months ago
Indicted now by pig fat
For the hypocrite we all are
Watch
As it finally slides free of bleeding gums
And is swallowed with a side of purple polish.

She laughs;
Palin-like cackling,
“Can I get a hallelujah!”
Furtive glances,
Hand brushing back imitation dreads,
“I mean, Namaste.”

She licks her bacon-flavoured fingertips
Delicately,
Showing off silver rings
And that tree tattoo with birds scattering
Up sun-kisses arm
Tanned from volunteering in Thailand last month
Playing with orphaned elephants, monkeys, puppies…
She has a good heart
And perfect eyebrows.

 

1sagefemme © All rights reserved 2016