One step
The toe lead by the arch and then the heal and the process over again.
T as in the letter
Tea as in a sip of
Teeth as in a set of Chiclets used for nonverbal communication
to afford a moment of a Greeting.
Greet
grate…grating, grating on my last…
like fleshy finger parts getting nicked by the cheese grater
Not so great
A surprise
Another surge
A certain protocol of pokes & prods
Of pinches of pain pushing through as salt fills my ears
Cuss a mer, cuss cuss curse
Curse to the high heavens
My body holds greedily those hard-boiled matter
Matter – Splatter – A platter
A platter to serve …………my self
To slice open again for what
For display
dis play
dis engage
disassociate
Whoa
Woman
Women
WOW
What Wonder
wonder, wonderful, FULL
Full of life in tight circles to be dolled out on a 1 a month per lunar.
My grandmother being born with her circles bore my mother with hers and my mother with mine.
Generations of tight little circles going back to every woman in my family
who first gave forth a burst, a lust, a trust
A trust without a truss.
The golden idol
Sitting in its place
Holding tight within its…self
The binary language of yin & yang
Revered & feared
Malevolent & benevolent
Spoken of quietly
Direct speech reserved for them & those who dare so rare
To look square in the eye
And drip the words
That split the hairs of black and white
And white of gray.
To lay sweetly after sweating
The sound of a squish is de-lish
Spoken about with love for luscious lavenders, pinks, & reds
The air leaping to run over itself
To be the first to touch
Lightly the hither & tithers
My golden chalice that is mine for me
Of dipping & sipping
lapping & laughing
Did you know also sometimes it just itches?
A functional moment
Mediocre
Mundane
But a relief just the same
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Dearest sister Joanna
Greetings and Salutations Dearest Sister Joanna,
My kindest regards for you and your family. Extend my selflessness to your dearest, whom I hope is well. My son, your favorite nephew, has been quite ill as of late. We hope the highest caliber physician Elizabeth Blackwell has given him thorough examinations extending the hope that all will be in a goodly way in our home soon. You surely remember meeting the acquaintance of Doctor Blackwell soon after she was awarded her medical degree from the Geneva Medical School in the summer of 1849. We were coming back from being over the big pond.
The weather is tempered with a strong breeze pushing the heat away for another day. The sky is as blue as the Aegean Sea mirroring that same April during our last visit together. It seems only fitting to reflect on the Aegean Sea the namesake of Aegea, a queen of the Amazons who died in the sea, creating the sea with those same blue tears. Please forgive my melodious mood having pulls of somber. The past few days have strained us all. I give rise and reposition the disposition of this composition for we will soon be in each other’s company.
The day is long without meeting with the group of like-mindedness. It seems we all ought to be in good spirits, as the day of merriment and celebration will be had. The conch is falling out of their shells to be a part of our personal fete feast. I am tethered to my excitement as in the first days of the Suffragette march. I can hear the group of women rustling with the layers of dress in the heat of the sun. We were all in good spirits as the day of voting freedom approached. Remember how Evangeline’s bosom was full of felicity as this was our first national ballot. She had purchased a blood red colored suit made of velvet and lace, which my own personal tailor Mr. Wittenmire especially prepared for her. We needed no corset that day fore determination became the cartilage of our spine.
As I remember that day I feel my response tied to a cracked enamel bumper of a horse-drawn buggy after a day of rest. I am ready to give whole heartily all the vim and vigor to trodden upon the doubts or fears of any misgivings for the upcoming event. The musicians I have collected with the assistance of IPod will bring the level of amusement to a lofty elevation. The lutes and lyricists have been limbering up their luscious stimulus to entertain us all.
Flying above my head is a thought bubble filled with all my color and the dream of growing wings from my spine. All my veins and blood wiring each individual feather to my brain. It seemed a natural process such as growing an entire organ to nurture my in uterine child. Wings of courage for arms to raise our spirits in unison. Wings of abandonment to take flights of revels.
Your exemplary talent for bringing us all uncommon joviality is truly a comprised gift. You are of the kindest nature speaking only sweet words in your monologue at the subsequent morning gatherings. Dancing with your spirit renewed my own soul fortifying my bones to face the world’s common humiliations. My heart brightened to see you sharing your unique view of my same world. It seems you have stolen my eyes from their sockets to have such identical remarks. The moment of presentness is so rare a gift to find in someone so young. You truly are a woman I am proud to call friend, sister, and ally in this world. A single tear burns my eye as I commiserate with myself over how long it has been since we have celebrated such a beautiful reason…living in the moment.
The details have been gone over for each person’s duties read as a most handsome trail of events that even Allison’s Tea Party with the March Hare and the Mad Hatter would be envious of. Mr. Lewis Carroll himself would burn his next manuscript for it would dull in comparison. My bragging is shameful and I would only allow such luxury with you my dear. I am reminiscent of our childhood together inspired by observations of my youngest and how she creates her own world under a table. It reflects our shared bloodlines of when we made small glorious worlds under the family dinner table. It was our oasis peppered with momma’s and poppa’s voices sharing stories of their adventures with the family friends.
Looking through the rose glass and feeling small faint memories are those ghosts of the past. I sweep them from left to right and then right to left. They cling to the bristles and refuse to leave until we can see each other and make anew. Our reunion will be soon. Until then we await your arrival to start the festivities.
Ever yours,
M
April 27th
My kindest regards for you and your family. Extend my selflessness to your dearest, whom I hope is well. My son, your favorite nephew, has been quite ill as of late. We hope the highest caliber physician Elizabeth Blackwell has given him thorough examinations extending the hope that all will be in a goodly way in our home soon. You surely remember meeting the acquaintance of Doctor Blackwell soon after she was awarded her medical degree from the Geneva Medical School in the summer of 1849. We were coming back from being over the big pond.
The weather is tempered with a strong breeze pushing the heat away for another day. The sky is as blue as the Aegean Sea mirroring that same April during our last visit together. It seems only fitting to reflect on the Aegean Sea the namesake of Aegea, a queen of the Amazons who died in the sea, creating the sea with those same blue tears. Please forgive my melodious mood having pulls of somber. The past few days have strained us all. I give rise and reposition the disposition of this composition for we will soon be in each other’s company.
The day is long without meeting with the group of like-mindedness. It seems we all ought to be in good spirits, as the day of merriment and celebration will be had. The conch is falling out of their shells to be a part of our personal fete feast. I am tethered to my excitement as in the first days of the Suffragette march. I can hear the group of women rustling with the layers of dress in the heat of the sun. We were all in good spirits as the day of voting freedom approached. Remember how Evangeline’s bosom was full of felicity as this was our first national ballot. She had purchased a blood red colored suit made of velvet and lace, which my own personal tailor Mr. Wittenmire especially prepared for her. We needed no corset that day fore determination became the cartilage of our spine.
As I remember that day I feel my response tied to a cracked enamel bumper of a horse-drawn buggy after a day of rest. I am ready to give whole heartily all the vim and vigor to trodden upon the doubts or fears of any misgivings for the upcoming event. The musicians I have collected with the assistance of IPod will bring the level of amusement to a lofty elevation. The lutes and lyricists have been limbering up their luscious stimulus to entertain us all.
Flying above my head is a thought bubble filled with all my color and the dream of growing wings from my spine. All my veins and blood wiring each individual feather to my brain. It seemed a natural process such as growing an entire organ to nurture my in uterine child. Wings of courage for arms to raise our spirits in unison. Wings of abandonment to take flights of revels.
Your exemplary talent for bringing us all uncommon joviality is truly a comprised gift. You are of the kindest nature speaking only sweet words in your monologue at the subsequent morning gatherings. Dancing with your spirit renewed my own soul fortifying my bones to face the world’s common humiliations. My heart brightened to see you sharing your unique view of my same world. It seems you have stolen my eyes from their sockets to have such identical remarks. The moment of presentness is so rare a gift to find in someone so young. You truly are a woman I am proud to call friend, sister, and ally in this world. A single tear burns my eye as I commiserate with myself over how long it has been since we have celebrated such a beautiful reason…living in the moment.
The details have been gone over for each person’s duties read as a most handsome trail of events that even Allison’s Tea Party with the March Hare and the Mad Hatter would be envious of. Mr. Lewis Carroll himself would burn his next manuscript for it would dull in comparison. My bragging is shameful and I would only allow such luxury with you my dear. I am reminiscent of our childhood together inspired by observations of my youngest and how she creates her own world under a table. It reflects our shared bloodlines of when we made small glorious worlds under the family dinner table. It was our oasis peppered with momma’s and poppa’s voices sharing stories of their adventures with the family friends.
Looking through the rose glass and feeling small faint memories are those ghosts of the past. I sweep them from left to right and then right to left. They cling to the bristles and refuse to leave until we can see each other and make anew. Our reunion will be soon. Until then we await your arrival to start the festivities.
Ever yours,
M
April 27th
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