Let Creation Set You Free: Poetry

Without Notice

They see you standing there
tall, firm and resolute.
They know you will weather
The Storms
for the rings of the Rind
reveal your inner strength.

They see you standing there
bright, budding, and creating.
They know you will yield on
The Lives,
for the seedlings surrounding
are the scion of this forest.

They see you standing there
shading the lovers whose season of passion
is concealed by your arms and legs, twisted.
The Secrets
for your eyes alone bear witness
to the lust we all share.

They see you standing there
burning, emblazoned, a sweeping rekindling
halted in time to preserve
The Moments.
They relish in next year's glory
while you prepare, cleansing
your days in the chilled rain.

They see you standing there
barren, naked, and vulnerable
with nothing left to offer.
The Lamented.

A white blanket is the only solace given
in the dreary dead of night.

They see you standing there
tall, firm and resolute
they believe you have weathered
The Storms.
Your covering lie on the ground, supported and loved
by only the green moss and water wells
that, from the depths, nurtured your
solo existence.

They believed your deeply sunk roots would survive,
"you're so beautiful" and

They walked on...

If only they could see the heart of you, perhaps then,
they would understand your stoic example.
If they could see the heart of you, perhaps then,
they would understand that in your dying,
you gave them life.

DNKG Without Notice 2014 ©

Let Creation Set You Free: Poetry

Lovers Secrets

Oh you, Shadow in the Corner
with every exhale leaving
a darkness o'er my cavern
it clangs within my breasts.
Your warm, life giving Flow
now spiraling into frigidity,
once brought me to convulsions.
Your Peak...FROZEN
Your Valley...SILENT
Your Curves...UNEXPLORED
Do you tease? Do you jest?
Or simply mock?
It won't be long now
Secret Lover,
before I traverse your every
nook and cranny.
Are you ready for me?

DNKG Lovers Secrets 2014 ©

Why the caged bird sings: A personal poetry tribute to Dr. Maya Angelou

In a world torn between color,

lived and learned between the

black and white hues of 

Everyday. 

a Mother, a Trailblazer, a Poetess
born from the strife,

Who gave rise from the ashes.

Who gave birth from a watery grave.

Who gave voice to the other caged birds.

In a world still torn between color,

lived and learned between the

sophisticated hues of grays; 
between religion, politics, and social strata.

Everyday

a caged bird sings

a mighty song it sings of its own.

A song inspired by the original bird

who feared not; who sang and sung 

Until its lungs no longer could,

Until its breath, panting, matched its heart,

Until its heart sung to its content,
Until its light was borrowed by the Great Equalizer.

And what have we birds known of

atrocities of Time? 
So many, too young,
to know the Power of her rhyme. 

To what atrocities have we accounted for
of broken bodies

of lost loves

of fragmented hearts
of saddened homes.

Would we brave the burn of the tyrant, 
so courageously stare down the eyes 
that abhor without knowing why?

Would we, so valiantly? 
Just to sing our song,
a song of Release?

That caged bird lived her love,
so all others would know what living a life of love meant. 

That caged bird loved when love seemingly wasn't an option, 

 so all others would know love could heal all wounds.

That caged bird healed through the prose of her life, 
so all others would know how. 

Why does the caged bird sing? 
She sang for her. 
She sang for you. 
She sang for me. 
She sang for love. 
She sang for the tough life.
She sang for sanity in an insane world. 
She sang for colors like her.
She sang when being human wasn't humane.
She sang for freedom from oppression. 
From enslavement. 
For us, as Humankind.

She sang to survive. 

She sang to feel alive. 
She sang because it's the one thing they couldn't break. 
She sang because it's the only thing they couldn't take. 
She sang because her song had to be sung.

I understand why the caged bird sings
in my heart and in my soul
she sings and sings and sings
for that is what a caged bird must do
to breathe, to live, or to die for its
songs

I know why the caged bird sings.

DNKG  Why the caged bird sings: A personal poetry tribute to Dr. Maya Angelou ©