Tag: art

The Self

Published on by Tosha Michelle132 Comments

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The self always strikes
dissonant chords,
the world of her mind
never quite at peace.
More often, the self walks
along imagination’s street.
Here she is free from
monotony and fear.

The self wants? What?
A freezing shot of clarity?
The pulse and throb
of a sexy life?
The bruised scent of strawberries?
Piano keys and satin sheets,
a world free from hate?
The sweet salt of a lover’s skin?

The self never can seem
to get it right.
She offers herself to pen and paper.
Writing her rebellious truths.
She travels along on words
in moonlight visions,
casting a poetic sheen.
Plunging toward that place
you aren’t allowed to dive,
but the self does anyway.
Here she comes alive.
Here there’s no bottom.
No end. Here the self can
tell you anything.
Watch the self
spilt herself open.
times three.

-Tosha Michelle

“Everything that drowns me, makes me wanna fly”

Particles

Published on by Tosha Michelle53 Comments

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For J and P

We no longer exist,
but there still residual
dust to clean up.

Butterscotch wrapped in
clinging plastic.

The pull and tug of the
invisible.

Your arms.
The only sun.

The evening a chance to
yearn for a fresh dawn.

-Tosha Michelle

My cover of Taylor Swift’ s”Last Kiss”

Listen to Last Kiss (cover, vocals only) by Tosha Michelle 2020 #np on #SoundCloud

My Plea

Published on by Tosha Michelle45 Comments

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Typical, I’m already lost
and you house is nowhere
in sight. Dusk is setting in
and there goes my light.

All day I sat near the
pine tree watching the
birds fly away from the cold.

The long limbs of the branches
shedding their yellow and gold.

Fallen leaves all around me,
crushed to the earth. I see
just the tip of the solitairy
orange leaf I have hoped for.

-Tosha Michelle

It’s a Trap

Published on by Tosha Michelle20 Comments

It’s a Trap
COIN
Written byJay JoyceZach DykeJoseph MemmelMore

I don’t know where I went wrong
Is it fate or just bad luck?
Tangled up like crawling vines
I’m back here for the hundredth time

I could wait for you
If you want me to
And it’s a trap my dear

And it’s a trap my dear Creep out for a midnight drag
You said you’d quit, this one’s your last
Maybe I take it all for granted
You only need me when you’re heavy handed

All the wasted youth
Tells a bitter truth
Oh, oh

And it’s a trap my dear
You weren’t always eager to follow
I could wait for you
If you want me to
Oh, oh

And it’s a trap my dear

Starlight

Published on by Tosha Michelle56 Comments

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Sleep unraveling from her soul,
she takes his hand.

They walk through a garden
at midnight.

Her bare feet sinking into the
lushness of the grass.

The moon plays hide and seek
between the weeping willows.

In the morning, she won’t remember
her dream, but she will remember
a feeling and the residue of moon dust.

In a poem she’ll reflect on
how the stars drew near to her.

In words, those stars become
her constellations.

They are like a million hearts
yearning…. burning.

Her poem reaching back to
the sky. Beckoning-

-Tosha Michelle

Winter Song

Published on by Tosha Michelle55 Comments

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Winter will always take the light.
The birds will go too.

The cold returns.
The leaves abandon the trees.

You live with it.
You survive.

Knowing it doesn’t matter,
you still hold the birds in the
lushness of green.

The magnolias bloom.
Alive in your mind.

-Tosha Michelle

Life in x’s and o”s

Published on by Tosha Michelle49 Comments

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On those rare occasions when the
stars in the sky fail not to disappoint
And even the earth is winded from
the sky’s beauty.

Stop. Just for a moment
and let the night light absorb you.

Our lives are painted as simply and as
haphazardly as a pre schooler turnned loose
with their first art kit. Leaving a trail of x’s
and o’s behind us in the grass until the
entire lawn shifts.

Tonight, for a second, let’s tear away
the leaves from a trees and dance
with the branches to the song of
a whippoorwill

In the morning, the sun
will pull us forward.

-Tosha Michelle

Rounding The Bend

Published on by Tosha Michelle51 Comments

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If only I could find the train
back to you.

The crossroads are nothing
more than a Trader Joe’s now.

And I can’t even get you on an
imaginary phone.

All day long I try and call.

You were always the sky
that drowned me the most.

My heart stiffing faster
than clothes on a line,
then turning into a hard
remorseful verse of poetry
to be recited under a full
moon by the river’s dark mouth.

Fire feed the soul.
Breathe in ash.
The spirit swims away.
The body dredging dirt.

And in the distance a train
rounds another bend.

-Tosha Michelle

Cold Heart

Published on by Tosha Michelle70 Comments

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Our love was a dark continent
we shared, violent and untamed.

It was unholy and seductive and left
destruction in its wake.

We were wind and fire.
Hot beginnings and painted
roads that led to secret gardens.

How quickly heaven was lost to us
when the sky destroyed the night
and the night decimated the sky.

When the lightening struck
we weren’t surprised when
the tree limbs splintered.

Knowing the branches couldn’t save us.

The storm burning away what
was left of the twisted roots
but never the wildness of our hearts.

The moon and I still yearn
for the chaos. Stealing our
breath and taking out sanity away.

God, how I wanted the pain,
the pleasure to abide,
but you can’t control the weather

Now the aftereffect remains.
and the wind goes on.

Closing all the windows as the
chill sets in. The cold comes
and you live with it.

-Tosha Michelle