Modernity, Penny Royal Tea, and Gods in Them

Modernity, Penny Royal Tea, and Gods in the Them

 

A purple goblet

glass cone,emblem of a white mare

metal base with the rococo finish

 

a shadow on a tabletop in a modern kitchen

penny royal tea, cup half full

wet lips

I have only so much to go

taste brings memories

side effects brings relief

 

to modernity!

 

fingernails on the bar

dress on my back

watching like a camera lens

 

feet too high above the land

must walk them down to earth

flowers pucker

 

One day

 

for now when fall is here

winter comes

nostalgia

wonder

 

where is my torch to traverse the tunnels of this time

this season

welcome to the cold

 

Ancient eyes with so much to say

mediums have voices for one mouth

 

lone beneath a starry sky

lights on in the distance

quiet your house for the night

 

I wonder

I hope for you

may your breadcrumbs be hearty

my torch be a burning beacon to lead you to my arms

to the heart of my voice which collects for you stories

by memory I will recite

one day

do not drink too much rain

save it for the earth

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Much ado about Freedom

Sit still

Allow the clouds to whirl about you
Pay little attention
Till the fog clears

Strip the syrup from your skin
Break the moulds and climb away
Lose one mind for the other
This might be your independence day

Ignore but don’t be ignorant
Believe in your archetype
Jesus, Mary, Storm, and Queen
Moon, Snake, and Diamond
Gambit flinging fire scenes
Banchees screaming find them
Sirens singing on the rocks
Steer the ship to harbour
Rabbits with their ticking clocks
Breach the shallow water

Doggy paddle to bay
Ignore the thundering clouds
Mad hatter poetry
You just want your cup of tea
He will never get old
only you may age
You can either stay and pretend
Or leave

No one will care

Trust in Me

Don’t think they care too much to commit their children early to the holy spirit
They, I think, are nervous of requests
Maybe if their child wasn’t a representation of their faith and vulnerability
Maybe if the baby wasn’t a representation of a heart on a sleeve
Easily they shake as a poplar tree
Ptsd with a spot of pee

A woman practicing feeling safe in trust
While hurdling through space
Like comet dust
Aint got the right mind for
Fancy shoes and fake jewelry rust

The unknowns been tapping her door for years
But before, all one heard
Was her spite, spit, and tears
Playing sassy sex games
Hiding in a community of queers

Just cause she stood on the sands
Dont mean she got to the bank
But love will do that to you
Trail you along
Bring you out
Drop you in a cream of cake

Shower you in the cold of water
When you need to be clean
Sugar in the faucet
Tears down the stream

Now you realize you must stand alone in your power
Only if my cup runneth over, will I give you medicine from my saucer

About Freedom ~a poem

Sit still

allow the clouds to whirls about you

pay little attention

till the fog clears

 

strip the syrup from your skin

break the moulds and climb away

lose one mind for the other

this might be your independence day

 

ignore but don’t be ignorant

believe in your archetypes

Jesus, Mary, storm, and queen

moon, snake, and diamond

gambit flinging fire scenes

banshees screaming find them

sirens singing on the rocks

steer the ship to harbor

rabbits and the ticking clocks

breach the shallow water

 

doggy paddle to the bay

 

ignore the thundering clouds

mad hatter poetry

you just want your cup of tea

he will never get old

only you may age

you can either stay or pretend

 

no one will care

 

 

Hum

In dedication of the world’s first clitoris reconstruction hospital in Burkina Faso.

A baby comes out of the womb
Skin climatically adjusts with the introduction of air
Lay the baby on the mother’s stomach and the childs first crawl will be for the primal quest of milk and comfort
they will open a clinic for the clitoris, we should open a church
They will sow her back her pleasure
We should say our prayers:

Holy tantric web of spidey strings
The light from the darkness
Bless the epicenter of our second coming
One by conception
The other by birth
Hum.

Grant her her healing pleasures
Lead her not into austerity
May it be her time to feel alive with
Conviction and dexterity
Hum.

From pastures, and the rushing moors
Give her back her heart
Polished first to a gorgeous shine
This is but a start
Stand down those who only know pleasures with guilt and shame
For that only makes you move too fast. Sadly limp and lame

Shakti may I call your name
And goddess council us please
We need to remember to smile and feel the web beneath out feet

Cause if everything is making love
We all must be beasts
And I for one love the animal that embraces the east
Hum.

Gator ~ a poem

Slow and steady
Too big for all that rushin’
Saving energy for the meat of a savory large fine
Pray

Prey, look both ways
Dream hunting in the cool
Mud caking up the shoes
Hidden in the leaves
Taking naps in the breeze

Fall back in the ease
Waves passing as a sneeze

Blessings
Bless your heart
There are caverns, then there’s carts

Braiding up the hair
Kicks for kicks
Snare for snare
Curtains cover
This and other

Ever exchanging.

Raise your toast
Spit your liqour
Banish ghosts

Eye and eye
Above water
Belly know them both
Up and over, deep and slumber
Crackling lightning
Lions den
Wings return to their dragon
When the illuminated stretch
Wide awake
Froasted cake
Sugar toothed
Though are loosed
image

xxyy,o

The body seems a bit shook

by mighty messages in rivers

could such a weight in tidiest concentric ties

be blessed to carry the vain images of angels

could they know the utter joy of children laughing

the primal power in one breath

while present in the chassis

could they know the quartz of finger tips in the hair

the subtle moons produced by blushing ear lobes

fornicating in the vivid quiet

 

-Sabrina