General

Joy feels like exposure to the harshest elements.
In showing it you become a pawn
in the game of advantage
like taken of that is.

Allowing happiness to make an appearance,
well, that’s just a sin.
“Be humble, accept things with grace,” they said.
As they shushed my feelings out of jealousy.

Feeling like a kernel doubling in size,
well, that’s just ruinous.
“Let’s not have a grandiose, public display,” they said.
As they swatted my butt out of anger.

Having intensity acknowledged on the surface,
well, that’s just suicide.
“Behave yourself!” they said.
As they locked me away with a pious vengeance.

Where did it ever get me to give a voice
to what bubbles up happy tears and excitement?
Hide your feelings, stomp them down reactions was all I ever got.
Because no one really wanted to meet the real me.

Were I to gather my thoughts
just as they appear you would
not recognize the portrait.
I am a reflection of the voyeur.
My selves are not selves at all,
they are fragments
of a more substantial being.
A fragment can assimilate
any number of designations.
Make of me what you will.

Each teardrop is a star quilted
in unparalleled darkness,
I unstitch them one by one
but they go up in smoke
before ever reaching my lips.

I shed my second skin
and settle into the pauses
of your sacred architecture.
My derelict bones are dry enough to burn.
Will you furnish me when vacant?
Can you love me knowing
that I am temporary and inexact?

All that spills through my fingers is lost
for I have not the composure
to bend down and recover it.
My fingers stumble down
the length of your sternum.
If you were truly…

I’m not in sync with the frequencies of my mind. I cannot follow where I’m going. The universe seems to have lost its patience with me. As if tetchy, it’s been berserk flashing its messages in my ears. I’ve gone color-blind with all the sounds. I cannot taste the shades of any synchronicity. I’ve lost the ability to fathom plain and simple. How can I make sense of this viscosity seeping into me?

My fists are tight. I hold the dying fizz of my dreams – dead mostly because I grabbed too hard. I’m in constant denial, like the broken tape stuck on a loop, but no one knows that I’m spinning with quintillion times the speed of sound. The moment I let go, I’ll be lost in the pit of a collapsing bang.

So, I stand here, wide-eyed, in front of the celestial traffic lights,

waiting.

Photo by Sue Vincent

An offering to share
Tell us the right and left
Surviving in this world
Grant us the peace and hope
Into the path we’re hurled

An offering to share
Not knowing who to trust
Or being trapped into
Please guide us what to do
Before we say adieu

An offering to share
A strip of paper
A list of things to do
Still to act or say
To all for what is due

An offering to share
It’s waving like a flag
To forgive and forget
Atonement for the soul
Love is what blooms beget*

(c) ladyleemanila 2019

* Monchielle

For: Thursday photo prompt: Offering #writephoto,  Wordle 436 Dec 28 by bwarren