There’s no hiding place left
for my soul.
The dark spaces have all been
lit, filled with a warm glow.
My flesh radiates heat, my skin
alive. My eyes giving me away.
Should I run? Try and find a dark alley
somewhere? The street lights shaped
like hearts seem to say “be still”.
But I’m afraid. I want to close my eyes.
But I know I’ll just end up peeping.
Finally believing in the voice I hear counting.
Knowing I don’t want to be invisible anymore.
I’m ready to be found.
-Tosha Michelle
Sometimes when the world and people become too much to take
I develop winter brain: a sort of icy mindfulness
where I embrace the chill and long to hibernate
with the bears, while the snowbird helicopters
over the frozen lake harassing the air and
frost bite lingers on my soul.
My heart a solid ice sheet hasn’t a care.
I inhale the silence while the palest of
green fights to break through.
For a moment at least, I remain
as cold and calm as the
white of the snow overspread
on the ground.
-Tosha Michelle
She carried his image like a cherish photograph- a handsome man dressed in a soft, faded sweater, blue jeans, and loafers, standing on the beach in a seaside town on the last day of November. The sky hinting at something brighter. There was hope but no chance. The sun mournfully hid behind the clouds. The seductive and perilous waves tried to shake the image.
The image would not fade. It was the eve of the other life she would never live. In the years to follow, she would return, her heart trying to translate what was never meant to be. Her singular salvation of faded dreams and a man she loved well once, lost to the seasonal tides of life and the fatal missteps of fate out of time.
-Tosha Michelle
I want to go deep into the book of your soul. Show me truth even if the pages resists. Tell me your heart so I can understand your part. I don’t want to wade through a flimsy plot. I want a character-driven tale with meaningful dialogue. One I can read tenderly; one that makes me think. I want to feel your words resonating inside of me, to take them to a deep place, a place that honors the connection flowing between us, where a whole orchard of new chapters can grow.
-Tosha Michelle
Listen to Use Somebody Kings Of Leon Cover (Take 2) by Tosha Michelle 2020 #np on #SoundCloud
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”
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
Hello lovely ones. Every now and again, I like to plug a friend. OK, that sounds weird, or maybe I just made it weird. Anyway, my friend Alex has a wonderful blog, you really need to be following. Alex is a true gentleman and just a really sweet and caring soul. He’s also single. Ladies take note.
.
His number is….
OK, I’ll let him give his digits away.
But I digress. Don’t I always?
If you’re into TV, music, travel, photography, and kind hearted Brits who like to play twenty questions and discuss everything from ice cream to art then Alex is your guy and his blog is for you.
Follow him!!
https://alexraphael.wordpress.com/2016/04/24/lines-of-the-day-thebigbangtheory-2/
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
Self doubt creates a slavish universe,
where we are constantly lugging our
insecurities in a backpack up a hill
that gets farther away the closer we get.
Along the way we keep looking
for disaster while trying to breathe.
Our catastrophic mind only perceiving danger,
creates a wedge between reality and self
where we only see the flaws and fractures.
Forgetting where we buried the bounty,
forgetting their is a bounty. We attempt to control
our bodies without mastering the spine.
Our souls become a membrane of
hopelessness, happy to reveal all we are not.
Our foolish spirits chose to adhere.
In our hand we hold a gun and a map of our head.
We journey on trying to find our way
with a broken flashlight, forgetting to
open our eyes, we cut our foot
on a shattered mirror. Briefly, we stand still,
and await clarity’s arrival. Satisfied. We turn and
head back towards self worth.
Finally, remembering, we hid the key
to the treasure chest
in perception’s drawer.
-Tosha Michelle
I’ve plugged this A-hole before but here I go again. If you aren’t following the King of onion gravy, insomnia, strange dialect, weird dance moves, and Chandler Bing wannabe. Shh! Don’t tell him it’s 2016. You’re missing out on some truly diverse and interesting prose and poetry. All kidding aside, his wordsmithing is phenomenal but what’s with his Angelina Jolie lips?
Sooooooo
Follow the yellow brick road. Take a right and follow this guy. The man behind the curtain is pretty OK.
No. 3060 – http://wp.me/p27egX-2Qs
Everything I Never Told You 