I don’t desire to be the other half of your soul.
I want to be the one who prompts you to remember
that you are already whole.
-Tosha Michelle
Category: Poems
Life Outside the Box
How do you live inside your one sided parasitic brain?
To you the world is black and white.
No room for blues or grays.
You capitalize on people’s fear
Distorting the truth with lies
The spin starts here.
-Tosha Michelle
It Kind of Is.
It Kind of Is.
By Tosha Michelle.
Miley and Nietzsche had it right.
It’s all about the climb.
I’ve charted many a mountain.
Hanging only by a thread.
Hope found in a spider’s web.
My limbs have felt like lead.
With bloody knuckles and knees.
Bruises for all to see.
I’ve ran into jagged impermeable stone.
Yet I rose higher and higher.
Fighting against the hourglass.
And dreams lost
I climbed.
Dragging myself toward the light.
Testing my worth.
I reached the summit in time to see
The dawning of the sun.
The breeze reborn, fresh as a new day.
I breathe in the substance of faith.
Exhaling doubt.
Fields of Gold.
My cover of Sting’s Fields of Gold.
Choice
By Angela Morgan
I’d rather have the thought of you
To hold against my heart,
My spirit to be taught of you
With west winds blowing,
Than all the warm caresses
Of another love’s bestowing,
Or all the glories of the world
In which you had no part.
I’d rather have the theme of you
To thread my nights and days,
I’d rather have the dream of you
With faint stars glowing,
I’d rather have the want of you,
The rich, elusive taunt of you
Forever and forever and forever unconfessed
Than claim the alien comfort
Of any other’s breast.
O lover! O my lover,
That this should come to me!
I’d rather have the hope of you,
Ah, Love, I’d rather grope for you
Within the great abyss
Than claim another’s kiss-
Alone I’d rather go my way
Throughout eternity.
Fatigued
Thank you for the invitation
But I really must decline.
Please don’t call.
My heart is not at home.
I just want to be left alone.
Sometimes the reason
Doesn’t match the rhyme.
My love for humanity has taken a ride.
Verbal exhaustion
Mental fatigue.
Disconnected.
The number you have reached
Is no longer in service.
Please try again later
-Tosha Michelle
Winter Wasteland
I step out into the winter of my mind.
Glancing around at the desolate architecture
Of walls with no doors.
Windows with no views.
Wrapped in sanity loose scarf.
I constantly beg for its touch.
My extremities crave its clarity and warmth.
The harsh chill of insecurity and doubt taunt me.
The frost of fear lingers in the air.
I expose myself to the elements.
The biting wind of change chills my static bones.
Forcing me to move.
The grey day is getting shorter.
I must find a way to make it over the frozen mountain of uncertainty.
I will not be a victim of my own circumstances.
The glow of resiliency lies just beyond the steel cages of my hypothermic mind
-Tosha Michelle
Transparent Shell
He hides his coldness behind a mask of charm.
His true intentions only to disarm.
Lies escape his lips
That never tell.
He plays the game so well.
He is an obsession
A handsome vision
With one glance you’ll be smitten.
He’ll wrap you up tight in his contradictions.
Fanning the flames
Of your incineration.
-Tosha Michelle
On and Off
On and Off
This last year was like Gilbert Gottfried’s voice.
Annoying and hard to forget.
Well-meaning, I suppose
And quite a funny darling to some.
This last year was akin to reading Kant
Difficult to understand and once learned
Excessively demanding in its requirements.
No lesson comes without pain.
There’s renewal in regret.
I run away from self-loathing and apathy
into stirring truths and shameless living.
And a new year made up of only sexy, sassy things.
-Tosha Michelle
Random song. This takes me back to London and the O2 The year-2009. There’s a story there. Next time.
Winter Solace
The soft snow blankets the ground.
I stop along the road.
Reaching toward the sweet bliss falling down.
My soul gets lost in the winter wonder.
Skipping like a child across a mystic white river.
Carefree, Basking in the invisible freedom
Dancing as the trees smile in the stillness.
I bow to a December moon so clear and cold
The icy hands of time forces me to keep moving on.
-Tosha Michelle
Jon Stewart, Jimmy Fallon, and Who????
Tomorrow (Thursday) at 7:00EST, I’ll be a guest on my own podcast. That’s not weird at all, right? My co-host and friend Niles, aka James, has decided to interview me about my new little book of poetry, Confessions of a Reformed Southern Belle: A Poet’s Collection of Love, Loss and Renewal. I’m honored. If you don’t have anything more pressing to do (like cleaning your dryer filer or rearranging your pantry), we’d be happy if you tuned in. I have it on good authority Jon Stewart and Jimmy Fallon will be calling in. That’s if you consider my cat “good authority.”
You can click the link below to listen.
Everything I Never Told You 