Deliverance
For almost 8 years
I gave you my soul
And my tears
And all because of fear
Of losing you
But now I realize
In the midst of our demise
Losing you is a gift
Worth keeping
My reaping
Has been you
Everything about you
And the love you never had for me
Was it all a dream?
No, at least not for me
But we were never meant to be
Because you were never the love
I needed
I've heeded
Surrendered and retreated
My heart is not yours anymore
You can no longer beat it
I'm finally free
Free to love someone else
Free to love me
Free in all aspects of what I could never be
With you
You
You didn't deserve me
You never honored me
Everything I tried to be
To you
You could never be
For me
©Lthepoet
For almost 8 years
I gave you my soul
And my tears
And all because of fear
Of losing you
But now I realize
In the midst of our demise
Losing you is a gift
Worth keeping
My reaping
Has been you
Everything about you
And the love you never had for me
Was it all a dream?
No, at least not for me
But we were never meant to be
Because you were never the love
I needed
I've heeded
Surrendered and retreated
My heart is not yours anymore
You can no longer beat it
I'm finally free
Free to love someone else
Free to love me
Free in all aspects of what I could never be
With you
You
You didn't deserve me
You never honored me
Everything I tried to be
To you
You could never be
For me
©Lthepoet
Untitled
My poetry..........bears a cross
Take me up to Calvary and crucify my thoughts
My words have been to the Zion
Where they saw Jesus crying.....
Upon dirty and cracked church steps
Leading to an altar with broken promises
Holding my albatross around his neck
Lord I know it's heavy.....
But.....It's too heavy for me
When I seen you carrying that cross
I said to myself, "My God this man faithfully has more strength than me....."
I write with ink-filled teardrops
Where these emotions rip my heart apart
Conscious leading me down desolate avenues
With no destination in mind foretold
I'll just wait for what un-folds
People don't understand why they see smoke coming from my notebook
If only they understood that there's hell in this pain.....
There is power within this pain
.......And I thought I could weather the rain
No matter the weather.....
I.....
Write about what I can't speak out loud
Yet, sometimes those words speak loud as hell
And they speak louder than what my voice could ever tell.....
The agony in my voice.....
The weariness in my walk.....
The sorrow in my eyes.....
Lord, Please forgive me.....
If only I could take my words to the confessional
Through these transgressions I would confess all
Even a Prophet couldn't tell it all.....
Only Me and Jesus know what sits behind these walls.....
I don't need you to tear them down
I'll let my poetry wear them down.....
Expose myself to me
Reflect that mirror to me
So I can see myself more clearer to me
My poetry bears a cross.....
Take me up to Calvary and crucify my thoughts.....
So on the 3rd Day.....
The light from my words will pave the way
My notebook is too heavy for me.....
So Jesus carry this cross for me.....
And Lord when you judge me.....
I'll bring my cross to judgement with me.....
Where you can read from my Book of Life for me.....
©Nenita Mala
Take me up to Calvary and crucify my thoughts
My words have been to the Zion
Where they saw Jesus crying.....
Upon dirty and cracked church steps
Leading to an altar with broken promises
Holding my albatross around his neck
Lord I know it's heavy.....
But.....It's too heavy for me
When I seen you carrying that cross
I said to myself, "My God this man faithfully has more strength than me....."
I write with ink-filled teardrops
Where these emotions rip my heart apart
Conscious leading me down desolate avenues
With no destination in mind foretold
I'll just wait for what un-folds
People don't understand why they see smoke coming from my notebook
If only they understood that there's hell in this pain.....
There is power within this pain
.......And I thought I could weather the rain
No matter the weather.....
I.....
Write about what I can't speak out loud
Yet, sometimes those words speak loud as hell
And they speak louder than what my voice could ever tell.....
The agony in my voice.....
The weariness in my walk.....
The sorrow in my eyes.....
Lord, Please forgive me.....
If only I could take my words to the confessional
Through these transgressions I would confess all
Even a Prophet couldn't tell it all.....
Only Me and Jesus know what sits behind these walls.....
I don't need you to tear them down
I'll let my poetry wear them down.....
Expose myself to me
Reflect that mirror to me
So I can see myself more clearer to me
My poetry bears a cross.....
Take me up to Calvary and crucify my thoughts.....
So on the 3rd Day.....
The light from my words will pave the way
My notebook is too heavy for me.....
So Jesus carry this cross for me.....
And Lord when you judge me.....
I'll bring my cross to judgement with me.....
Where you can read from my Book of Life for me.....
©Nenita Mala
Sigh...
Words adorned with false pretenses
Paragraphs and stanzas formed with ill begotten sentences I loved you more than life itself Forced words now fighting against my chest Filled my mind with all of this mess Now doubt reigns supreme How could a nightmare come from such a beautiful dream? A heavy heart and it doesn’t even register To talk once in awhile it takes a lot of muster Confident in nothing, world shaken to its core How could this be the end, is there nothing more Anger and sadness constantly battle with absolute outrage Did you really love me or were we just on your mind’s stage The best thing that ever happened to me Turned out to be one of my heart’s greatest miseries This is not finished yet and I can’t wait to see How something so dear to me turned into such an awful tragedy This will always remain in my mind’s hidden anonymity Never in your heart The truth finally lives in liberty Loved you with all my heart, no other could fill your part Seemed perfect to me, would have loved you for all eternity Broken hearts mend but never forget How you hurt me I’ll always regret Where is this land that resides? It holds an unfounded future sailing out with the tides ©Roxanne Robertson- Divine Connections: An LCG Poetry Compilation |
Untitled 2In the beginning was the word
And the word became flesh, you see? And the word's destiny manifest in me And next to me, there is no other but me The total poetry package inside you see And my poetry is like the finest rhythm Reinforced by a timeless vision I need no practice It's my flow that keeps the Earth on its axis I've been flowin' on and on and on From civilization’s earliest stages Down thru the Dark Ages Up thru the Dead Sea Scrolls and stories untold And still undiscovered pages I bring smiles to hopeless faces Exposing lies as baseless Quenching their thirst for truth like an oasis Fixing the glitch in their matrix My poetry is a symphony of electrically-charged atoms Too intricate for small minds to fathom Giving birth to infinite rhyme patterns Like the rings that surround Saturn But now I need help Since the beginning of time I've been doin' it by myself So I’m asking for 7 poets to join me And I got 7 seals to bestow upon thee But if I'm gonna let you rule in my place Then you better be prepared to state your case I need you to prove that you come with the real And that you're the perfect poet to rep your seal ©Nenita Mala |
An Ushering
Figured I’d Pour me up, Howlin’ Wolf at dusk…
To stir
“Smokestack Lightning” for my jukin’ gypsy mud tone
Back porch Blues, to fill the cracks of my wood stove living room.
Reminded.
With the blues in my bosom and smoke ribboning above my chipped cup
clove tobacco, spiraling left into gingered coils .
Night’s resin, resting on polished bourbon shoulders
Draped in raw cotton and hand-stitched lace , like light on shadows.
Mature tears for virgin pain
still aching in my joints, when it rains.
Tears
Born
like us
Don’t know where to go
Born, and Born again
They flee in a panic
Scrambling down familiar trails
Down slopes
Off the cliff of my chin
to
Stir in, my cup
a teaspoon of sweet broken dreams chiming clinks
like- melody
like- a parody
like- life’s bitter sweet toil
Good Morning-eve to you,
Sweet baby child… I saw you asleep.
You’ve awakened, I figured you would
Soon,
At the cry of the blues
Porch harps and southern heels
stomping the kitchen ceiling.
Howling
I Know
It’s all upside down
Now
TRUTH
Lady child, come, sway at the moon’s intoxicating,
Welcome
Muddy ancestral –fluidity, between black-thighs
Left thigh-- be night
Right thigh-- be day
Fragrant Momma mud
Femininity the cure and casualty.
Woe is we, dusk and dawn driven mud mamas…
Loving like sin,
Like rain
Like light on the cusp
Like Gold
Flowing through earth gapes
Washed in the rivers,
Shining
Waiting
for claiming, absolute-cherishment
Stirring black woman fluid-- to gold
Ancestral feminine alchemy.
Baby honey, bee
Wearing the blues like pheromones
Tempting nature to touch her
golden blue light
like a dusked sky in Spring
Sister-Mother – Goddess- Baby Child,
still
Come of age out of dawns
Fatal flavor…
Feel the planks shift at your stride in our House
Hear the saddled Sensuous shuffle of
Ancestral ritual dresses clearing your foot prints
Showing the path for Babes rising beneath us
To sip, stir and Swoon beneath the moon
Baptized.
I’m more than a woman
Creole Gee chi, Dusk
Mud Mama, Witch Bitch
Ushered by divinity
Sin and Grace,
spiritual duality
emotional calamities.
Let us heal one another, like our Mommas used to
Beneath the bowels of unstable ships,
In the midst of pain squealing like silence in darkness.
Under Masters nose,
Behind the thorny bushes, invoking our protection and governance.
Witching hour dancing up raw Ivory spines
African women at root
My grin wet and broad, Hip extended left
Bare palm extension – right
Invitation to Invocation
It’s gon’ taste like royal jelly.
night-time creatures testify as my congregation,
creeping about the weathered porch steps
between our royal tattered dresses
over our muddied toes
past our beating pulses
rolling like waves pulled down by the moon’s phase.
I can smell the dew settling.
Female ancestral call and response for healing
My mud momma stirred a brew for me, once
Now I for you…
Resting her temptress limbs bench long,
Eyes spilling poems in my lap
I ritual recite as an Elder now
Cleanse.
Allowing the message to be received
Absent from self, while in the presence of all vibrations.
White eyed
Spiritual personification through the wood planks
balloons my dress
upward
My air rises to birth words that I recall
To translate
Daughters…?
Not every touch, tantric is tender
Not every crooners whisper is sensual salvation
Some are
Razors for blades of green stretched furthest
Between life and love
And death and sin
And the beginning
Even for me, a message.
It aint nothing but the blues of Earthen mudd gals…
- howlin’ blues… gals , pretty eyed,
Open your Doe eyes
blue gal
Just breathe up at the moon
as day breaches for us.
Walk the line ,
we mud mammas are purest on the brink of light.
Now Rise to your earthen feet,
SANG open-throated and raw
DANCE boundless till breaking deep-rooted bones to throw
amongst
the shells
Powders
Hair
Blood
Mud
Pain
Blue flame rising in the living room,
Dusk daughters spin
Spewing rum from lips perched on blessings.
Whispering to the congregation
Through the cracks and sills
Under the doors
Onto the porches
She’s awake, awakened
Baptized by her tears.
Woman, now
yes
A Woman now, Awake now…
Well, Miss
Anytime, you hear my blues playin, come and join me for a while
At the table,
Amidst the spirits and bourbon
The smoke and promises
We’ll heal again.
Here is your cup, sip slow.
We made it through to mourning.
Dawn creeps on the horizon.
©Lashaná Barbour-Marshall
To stir
“Smokestack Lightning” for my jukin’ gypsy mud tone
Back porch Blues, to fill the cracks of my wood stove living room.
Reminded.
With the blues in my bosom and smoke ribboning above my chipped cup
clove tobacco, spiraling left into gingered coils .
Night’s resin, resting on polished bourbon shoulders
Draped in raw cotton and hand-stitched lace , like light on shadows.
Mature tears for virgin pain
still aching in my joints, when it rains.
Tears
Born
like us
Don’t know where to go
Born, and Born again
They flee in a panic
Scrambling down familiar trails
Down slopes
Off the cliff of my chin
to
Stir in, my cup
a teaspoon of sweet broken dreams chiming clinks
like- melody
like- a parody
like- life’s bitter sweet toil
Good Morning-eve to you,
Sweet baby child… I saw you asleep.
You’ve awakened, I figured you would
Soon,
At the cry of the blues
Porch harps and southern heels
stomping the kitchen ceiling.
Howling
I Know
It’s all upside down
Now
TRUTH
Lady child, come, sway at the moon’s intoxicating,
Welcome
Muddy ancestral –fluidity, between black-thighs
Left thigh-- be night
Right thigh-- be day
Fragrant Momma mud
Femininity the cure and casualty.
Woe is we, dusk and dawn driven mud mamas…
Loving like sin,
Like rain
Like light on the cusp
Like Gold
Flowing through earth gapes
Washed in the rivers,
Shining
Waiting
for claiming, absolute-cherishment
Stirring black woman fluid-- to gold
Ancestral feminine alchemy.
Baby honey, bee
Wearing the blues like pheromones
Tempting nature to touch her
golden blue light
like a dusked sky in Spring
Sister-Mother – Goddess- Baby Child,
still
Come of age out of dawns
Fatal flavor…
Feel the planks shift at your stride in our House
Hear the saddled Sensuous shuffle of
Ancestral ritual dresses clearing your foot prints
Showing the path for Babes rising beneath us
To sip, stir and Swoon beneath the moon
Baptized.
I’m more than a woman
Creole Gee chi, Dusk
Mud Mama, Witch Bitch
Ushered by divinity
Sin and Grace,
spiritual duality
emotional calamities.
Let us heal one another, like our Mommas used to
Beneath the bowels of unstable ships,
In the midst of pain squealing like silence in darkness.
Under Masters nose,
Behind the thorny bushes, invoking our protection and governance.
Witching hour dancing up raw Ivory spines
African women at root
My grin wet and broad, Hip extended left
Bare palm extension – right
Invitation to Invocation
It’s gon’ taste like royal jelly.
night-time creatures testify as my congregation,
creeping about the weathered porch steps
between our royal tattered dresses
over our muddied toes
past our beating pulses
rolling like waves pulled down by the moon’s phase.
I can smell the dew settling.
Female ancestral call and response for healing
My mud momma stirred a brew for me, once
Now I for you…
Resting her temptress limbs bench long,
Eyes spilling poems in my lap
I ritual recite as an Elder now
Cleanse.
Allowing the message to be received
Absent from self, while in the presence of all vibrations.
White eyed
Spiritual personification through the wood planks
balloons my dress
upward
My air rises to birth words that I recall
To translate
Daughters…?
Not every touch, tantric is tender
Not every crooners whisper is sensual salvation
Some are
Razors for blades of green stretched furthest
Between life and love
And death and sin
And the beginning
Even for me, a message.
It aint nothing but the blues of Earthen mudd gals…
- howlin’ blues… gals , pretty eyed,
Open your Doe eyes
blue gal
Just breathe up at the moon
as day breaches for us.
Walk the line ,
we mud mammas are purest on the brink of light.
Now Rise to your earthen feet,
SANG open-throated and raw
DANCE boundless till breaking deep-rooted bones to throw
amongst
the shells
Powders
Hair
Blood
Mud
Pain
Blue flame rising in the living room,
Dusk daughters spin
Spewing rum from lips perched on blessings.
Whispering to the congregation
Through the cracks and sills
Under the doors
Onto the porches
She’s awake, awakened
Baptized by her tears.
Woman, now
yes
A Woman now, Awake now…
Well, Miss
Anytime, you hear my blues playin, come and join me for a while
At the table,
Amidst the spirits and bourbon
The smoke and promises
We’ll heal again.
Here is your cup, sip slow.
We made it through to mourning.
Dawn creeps on the horizon.
©Lashaná Barbour-Marshall
