CAPTAIN SCARLET

“Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”
Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-193

 I wrote the poem below for my mentor and dear friend Colin Smith. He had just turned fifty the time. I wanted to honor this milestone in some way. You see Colin has changed my world for the better. His guidance and support have been invaluable. He has taught me to see the sublime in the ridiculous, to slow down, to breathe, to be at peace with the world. (The world is easy; it’s me, I still struggle with). Mr. Lovely has been instrumental in awakening my rebel spirit, a spirit that no longer sits meekly and quietly in the background, paralyzed by fear and insecurities. I have found my voice and purpose in life. .We are not meant to be stagnant. We are meant to move, to be, and to give back. We can change the world for the better (Tosha 2016. Rock the vote).. I’ve grown and blossomed so much through my interactions with this soulful Brit. Colin will always have my undying gratitude and affection. He’s a bit of a paradox, a punk rocker and an academic Ph.D. in one hand, guitar in the other, Professor and hellion. This poem attempts to chronicle his journey it’s not my best bit of poetry. I warned you. It may not be a work of art, but it was a labor of love.
Note- the quoted lines are lyrics from Colin’s songs.

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CAPTAIN SCARLET
ByTosha Michelle

I

“Every since I was a child all my dreams been running wild”

A baby is born with the heart of a warrior.
A restless spirit, a soul full of magic
In need of a place to call his own.
Into his life walks a beautiful woman.
Singing to him her sweet motherly song.
He will be her son now, and she will be his protection and hope.
These are the days of security and peace.
A blessed refuge and reprieve, but alas not meant to be.

II
“Hate is like a battle, love is like a war”

A little boy grows feeling lost and alone.
Clinging to his mother, she alone is his home.
Escaping from his father who is militant and mean,
Berated and bullied it’s always a scene.
He loses himself in rockets and dreams.
These are the days of fear and survival,
Where contempt and abuse are his arch rivals.

III
“My adolescent dreams are nightmares in the streams.”

A teenager he becomes, defiance his mantra,
He’s out on the streets, looking for peace.
Drugs and needles he seeks. Hedonism and Dionysus he meets.
A life on the brink Chaos and havoc he reaps.
These are the days of excess and rebellion
A manic season of an outlaw and hellion.

IV
“We’re the kids from the block we know how to rock.”

Adulthood finds him a punk rocker with the band.
Girls and guitars, he’s pissing on czars.
His future looks grand. A rebel is taking a stand.
JJ, The Cardinal, -The Blood is the plan.
These are the days of desires and extremes,
Fighting the establishment and rocking sweet, sultry things.

V
“Loving you religiously is doing in my brain.”

A man full grown now at 25 he’s half-way to today.
The girl of his dreams, a bonnie lass is she,
He takes as his bride and a life of passion they lead.
In a few years, a daughter comes along.
Filling her daddy’s heart with song
These are the days of stability and chaos,
Anguish and bliss, and love not without risks.

VI
” I don’t want fortune. I don’t want fame. I want a piece of history.”

A time of changes comes on strong with 30’s drumbeat marching on.
His mind begins yearning as he develops a hunger for learning,
His thoughts, they are a turning, his soul burning.
Off to college, he goes. The seeds of knowledge sown.
These are the days of highs and lows,
Of books and enlightenment and he grows.

VII
“The bouquet of insanity left me a wreck, but I won’t forget.”

The 40”s find him on his own; his family gone.
Somehow, somewhere, someway it all went wrong,
Some things in life are not meant to be.
Sorrow is all he sees, but time moves on.
Through adversity, he finds his strength.
The depth of his spirit, humanity is his link.
Finding his Magna Charta, he realized his purpose.
Justice and liberty become his new song,
A magnum opus for us all.
These are the days of devotion and emotions,
His soul for humanity is causing a commotion.

VIII
“The road less traveled, it’s the one I’m own”

At 50 now what will be will be.
He has miles to go before he sleeps; He cannot rest life is still a test,
But his future is anything but bleak, His spirit far from weak.
Riding out the highs and lows, Tempering the desires and extremes,
Ordering security and chaos, Challenging the unchallengeable dream.
Understanding from experience, he fights the true outlaws and hellions
Humanity his devotion.. Lost in emotions

These will be the days of Renewal and Survival. Rebirth and Revival
A rebel causing a commotion, a life in full motion.

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Midnight in the Garden of My Mind. (someone get the weed whacker)

Random  thought of the day- If Lady Gaga and The Goo Dolls went on the road together; would they call it the Gaga Goo Goo Tour? By the way, why does Gaga live for the bear claws?

But, seriously….
Introspective thought of the day.- I have come to realizes that; I’ll always be a square peg, just trying to fit in, one foot in this world, the other, God knows where. Hopefully not in Crocs. UGH! Although, happiness is within and surrounds me, there will always be an undertone of sadness and melancholy that resides and resonant to my core. I welcome these emotions with open arms because I am a masochist. I also have a lady boner for that old sod, Heathcliff (the moors, the angst, etc) Did I just type lady boner?

In addition to being maudlin,  I am a restless spirit, a spirit who has pieces and shards of interest splayed out in every possible creative direction. But to each its ultimate standard of expertise I can’t seem to reach fully.. Sometimes, I feel like my heart is flying in over my head, bouncing off the walls, the ceilings, yet confined within a certain room. Striving to break free and soar.

I believe I can fly.
Still trying to find my wings.
While I look, grab a pacifier and blankie. Give a listen.

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City Haze-by Tosha Michelle

City Haze
by Tosha Michelle

Dance with me in the city haze,
Through September grooves.
under the beauty of a harvest moon,
in pattern fields of amber.
Colored by a heavenly mist, dust of serenity.
We’ll set the night ablaze.
While the shadows enfold us
as the willow whispers
And the wind sings us a melodic tune.
Our imagination sets the beat.
We’ll find solace and cohesion,
As melancholy drains away
on cracked sidewalks of urban decay.

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I Don’t Want to be Just Like You

I Don’t Want to be Just Like You.

By Tosha Michelle.

If we lose our individuality,
We lose what’s make us unique.
I don’t want to be just like you.
I don’t want you to be just like me.
Imagine if we were all the same.
A paradigm of indistinguishability
The world would be innate and banal.
We’ve walk around in a zombiified state,
trapped in our own egalitarian but bromidicdevices.
The world needs diversity.
There’s a rightness and purity in being different.
We’re all family, our mélange makes us beautiful.
Our commonality is our humanity, rooted in love we grow.

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Sublime Ends by Tosha Michelle

 

Sublime Ends

Remember at the station, waiting

On the train, on that sultry summer day?

We stood lost in an embrace, breathing in

each other that way. that awful, terrible,

perfect mad and delicious way that took us

to the shrouded place.

Remember at the station that day, waiting

on the train, as the wind hummed a lovers tune?

She sang of sublime ends, from supple beginnings.

the alluring medley of serenity in a war of rhyme

on the sharp bloody edge of Neverland and Narnia,

the peaceful enchanting interlude of rage & myth.

Remember at the station, that day, as

the train churned closer and we cussed goodbye

His steam a prelude to our eternal kiss, the sun

soaked, never ending fuel of light, of love, of

heat. Basking and bathing,

merged and emerged and submerged,

Dancing and swaying in time

with golden chariot and the huntress.

Remember at the station that day, as

the train tugged away, on a endless track?

We gazed as it came — as it came — as it went

through the crossroads. We did not know,

our own separate, distant destinations,. Our own

rail-less wild paths cut into unimagined mountainsides

You to the west, me to the east.

Remember the station that day as

the train, conducted our last kiss?

That gaping wound where our lips met. Where

we learned cruel fate is hot love and all love is

the calamity of UN-armored battle. We all go under

wrong or right. Each of us blankets miles and the ground

is nothing but a shifting litter with irascible iridescent hope

and hurt-dulled dreams, unfulfilled plans and schemes.

Remember the station that day, waiting

in twilight until we forgot and traveled on, and on

alone, with only prayers of new Twilight to set

in stony slumber with hard solace of old loves loss

then found again.

-Tosha Michelle

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It’s Time to Rise by Tosha Michelle

by Tosha Michelle

Sunshine paints the canvas of my mind.
Blinding me to heartache,
Bleaching away decay,
Shadows fade away.
Grief passes on to where it came.
Vivid shades of orange and blues.
Replace the bleak gray hues.
Basking in the light of love,
Dinning with cheery trees,
I live again.

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Elemental by Tosha Michellle

The rip current consumes me.

Dragging me under in a rage,

I struggle against the tide.

Battling the demons of a water drenched mind.

Caught in a vortex of time,

Sun and dry land mock me.

I refuse to be destroyed by the elements.

My arms reach out to the trees.

Their branches sway toward me

But it’s not enough.

In desperation I turn to the earth.

The substance of life,

Hatred and failure taunt me.

With bloody hands and bruise knuckles.

I dig through a wasteland of hopelessness.

Wondering why God has forsaken me.

As the ground beneath continues to break,

I’m free falling into the labyrinth of chaos,

And underworld of isolation,

Night falls.

I lift my head to cry out.

Suddenly overcome by the beauty and magnitude of the stars.

I’m consumed by the will to live and be…

The struggle only amplifies my resolve.

Solace and hope are elemental.

An alive in me.

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Nothing

 

  • by Tosha Michelle.
    Narcissism is the new black.
    Self absorption the latest trend.
    Shallow and superficial
    Walk down a runway of banality.
    While it’s “All About Me” plays in the background.
    Accessorized by a callous disregard.
    Dressed up in a pretty package.
    With nothing underneath.
    Hollow and empty
    A model of vapidness.
    The latest in fashion is only skin deep.
    Maybe..one day…unselfishness and humanity will be in vogue again.
    Until then, did you see the latest picture of me?
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Wrecked Head.

Wrecked Head.
by Tosha Michelle.

Some days I am lucid and full of wisdom
But then there are those days when my mind
Is invaded by hoarders, the clutter
Littering my brain
In these times, I am at lost as to where to begin
There’s no filtering my thoughts.
My mind is in overdrive.
Like a hyper active teen strung out on meth.
My eyes glazed over, lost in a surreal dream.
A million thoughts float around me.
I try to grasp just one.
But they’re are elusive,
Just beyond my reach.
All I can do is wait.
For gravity and clarity to kick back in.

 

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