Borrowing a musical page from my friend. Casey. Have a lovely weekend everyone.
Category: Poems
Willfully Wild
If you’re going to love,
love wilfully and wildly,
like a leaf on the wind
soaring out,
with abandon.
Burn yourself through
for passion.
Make an altar of greater than.
Praise longing and
its insanity
Love bold men,
the ones like red umbrellas
with strong wooden
handles, and a fancy inscription,
big and deep, that makes you
feel like the daintiest
of ladies out for an
afternoon stroll,
his sheltering arms
keeping out the misty rain.
Let every idea you have
be love.
Study him like
you would the curve
of the horizon.
Follow your instinct,
lose the pattern.
Go where he goes.
Don’t let the sun disappear.
Let it swell
and put him first,
draw him closer,
until he believes in you
and the sky trembles
when you touch.
Fall
Fall
into his eyes, his thighs,
the pulse of his being.
Fall into ripeness, rightness,
until time is stripped away,
and your soul is cast in
forethought. Forethought
brushed in red and heat.
Never to be an afterthought.
If you’re going love, love
willfully and wildly until
you are spent, until the stars
shatter over the white tips
of pillowcase as two lovers
fall out of God’s mouth into
rapture.
-Tosha Michelle
He Is
He’s that something to lean
on that doesn’t give away
under the weight of my fears.
He receives my light and
returns it.
He unlocks my secrets and hides
the key.
Into his ears he listens as I speak
my demons in an inexhaustible
language.
For once I’m not afraid of the wind
breaking my flowerpots.
He pulls my hands away from
my eyes and encourages me
to look at the beauty of the sky.
He takes my hand and we follow
the blue bird into the woods.
My soul lights up with every
sways of the tree branches.
I breathe in the golden air.
Knowing it will linger on
even if there is a change in
the atmosphere.
Let the wind announce rain.
Let it stick to my hair, muddy
my feet.
I’ll just slip closer to his light,
closer to his arms, back to
dreams where the world opens
endlessly for me.
Tosha Michelle
Almost Do
I bet this time of night you’re still up.
I bet you’re tired from a long hard week.
I bet you’re sitting in your chair by the window looking out at the city.
And I bet sometimes you wonder about me.
And I just wanna tell you
It takes everything in me not to call you.
And I wish I could run to you.
And I hope you know that every time I don’t
I almost do,
I almost do.
“Almost Do” Taylor Swift
And Everything
He makes my heart leap
But i’m so very careful of the rocks
In the distance I see the lush
greenness of the vineyard.
The roots true. The vines ripe
Do I have faith in the landscape?
It still looks abstract from here.
I walk on with my shoes of hope
wearing clear blue skies and a
thawed out soul.
Still I worry about a change in
the weather, falling into a ravine
My spirit like a sacred dare
challenges me to forget my fears,
to journey on deeper into what
could become less or more.
His voice in the distance
permeates my darker self until
all I see is sunlight.
Who can say what dust will bring?
Wine or a cloud spun our of
misguided fate?.
For now the light glimmers
How freeing it is branching
it’s way out into the unknowns.
-Tosha Michelle
Show me some discipline – Runaway American Dream
My thanks to the Anthony for the poem dedication. If you aren’t following him, you’re missing out on some stellar writing, photography, and music. Oh and most importantly, his ongoing romance with Jersey girl. If you think his poem for me was lovely., check out his amazing verse for his girl….so beautiful and romantic. Sigh worthy stuff.
Follow him and the yellow brick road, but mostly him. Hope everyone has a wonderful weekend.
https://runawayamericandreamsite.wordpress.com/2016/07/27/show-me-some-discipline/
Doll Friend
My voice is a tiny grain
in his skull to be devoured
by vultures or fertilized by madness.
Evey morning as I rise I
pay homage to his stony
face. I read novels into
his stature that never moves
He never remembers anything
beyond his well preened shoes
I type with one eye open well
into the day. In stillness,
he stares narratives through me
Frantically , I write nightmares
in bold font until I am spent.
At midnight I place him back under glass.
My eggs firmly stored in his basket.
Still The One
They said, “I bet they’ll never make it.”
But just look at us holding on
We’re still together, still going strong
(you’re still the one)
You’re still the one I run to
The one that I belong to
You’re still the one I want for life
(you’re still the one)
You’re still the one that I love
The only one I dream of
You’re still the one I kiss good night
-Shania Twain lyrics
My cover for The Lonely Author and his wife Allie, Anthony and Jersey girl, John and Terry
Why?
When I get tired.
I sometimes wonder
what’s this poetry
thing all about?
What am I writing for?
During these times
I’m usually stuck
in a creative muck,
I still don’t dare
call it a rut.
There’s no food
in the picnic basket
so I eat drudgery instead.
My mouth full of lost time.
I’m so hungry for words
that have run off
with my silk dresses.
I dream of nouns, adjectives,
and verbs, sinking
in a sea of syntax.
I try to dive in
but get stuck in the sand.
I sit along the shore
I wait. As seagulls fly
from under my bed,
my silk dresses hanging
from up above.
I reach for them
while I still can.
-Tosha Michelle
Collide
For David and Jen and Tony and Jersey girl
Tonight I feel more alone than the moon
overthrown by the clouds.
I take solace in the rain, the sway of the trees
being shaken out like a well loved blanket by the wind.
I know you are out there under the horizon. We’re on the same Earth.
The moon plays peekaboo with you too.
I understand how time zones float like helium balloons across the globe.
But the sky and this poem know how much I want you here.
I want to look at you
and mark how time changes you,
as it changes us.
I want to love you up close.
It’s true as you say, distance doesn’t define love, we do.
We always find each other. I look up at the sky,
just in time to see the moon sneak through the clouds.
It whispers to me in sibilance.
For a moment you come closer. Comforted by the knowledge of you,
I speak to you in trees and air.
The gray eyes of the night translates my love diction,
as the Milky Way pours itself over two lovers
swept up on a star yet to be named.
-Tosha Michelle
Everything I Never Told You 