martyrdom revolutionized (because we've all been there)
she ties her shoe laces together,
daily.
falling, like failure
are similar to breathing.
without them she wouldn't feel
as if she was truly alive.
her words heavier
than any weight
or sorrow
found east of Eden
or in the bowels of hell;
and not since the fall of man
has God ever felt such betrayal.
she unknowingly curses blessings
and blesses curses.
twisted are her thoughts,
knotted like oaks.
and weakened like branches
bearing forbidden fruit.
she plucks from its emptiness,
allows life to consume her,
and devours the insanity of it all.
unable to see the truth,
she hides; not adorned in fig leaves
but cloaked in the incessant lies she chooses to tell herself
and selfishly believes.
to say I would take away her pain
is a lie.
I am a poet, not a saint.
and even they,
even they view the constraints
she places upon herself
as foolish steps toward false martyrdom.
they see through her,
she ties her shoe laces together,
daily.
falling, like failure
are similar to breathing.
without them she wouldn't feel
as if she was truly alive.
her words heavier
than any weight
or sorrow
found east of Eden
or in the bowels of hell;
and not since the fall of man
has God ever felt such betrayal.
she unknowingly curses blessings
and blesses curses.
twisted are her thoughts,
knotted like oaks.
and weakened like branches
bearing forbidden fruit.
she plucks from its emptiness,
allows life to consume her,
and devours the insanity of it all.
unable to see the truth,
she hides; not adorned in fig leaves
but cloaked in the incessant lies she chooses to tell herself
and selfishly believes.
to say I would take away her pain
is a lie.
I am a poet, not a saint.
and even they,
even they view the constraints
she places upon herself
as foolish steps toward false martyrdom.
they see through her,
they are not pleased
she will never be canonized.
I want to tell her
pick up your cross
life is not a burden;
but it can be a fight.
determine your age
not by years, but scars
of survival.
realize your humanness.
realize the path you travel in this life
is a journey that offers
so much more than
the pain you write in vibrant colors
upon thin air..
it too shall pass,
and blow with the breeze.
your tears don't give way
to cleansing rains
leading to rainbows and pots of gold.
baby.. sometimes, they are simply that, tears.
and sometimes they don't lead to healing or happy endings...
they are simply means to an end.
that black cloud you place above your head, daily
is not a halo.
it's tarnished, crooked, and a little used.
you've done your shit,
we all have.
I want to tell her
pick up your cross
life is not a burden;
but it can be a fight.
determine your age
not by years, but scars
of survival.
realize your humanness.
realize the path you travel in this life
is a journey that offers
so much more than
the pain you write in vibrant colors
upon thin air..
it too shall pass,
and blow with the breeze.
your tears don't give way
to cleansing rains
leading to rainbows and pots of gold.
baby.. sometimes, they are simply that, tears.
and sometimes they don't lead to healing or happy endings...
they are simply means to an end.
that black cloud you place above your head, daily
is not a halo.
it's tarnished, crooked, and a little used.
you've done your shit,
we all have.
God knows us, he knows our heart.
no matter how hard we try to deny him.
we're not angels, that's why were here.
we're not angels, that's why were here.
birthed through fire.
yet, some believe birth is death
and all we got here by suicide
having choked on our mother's umbilical cords.
and the struggle from our first day to the very last
is a longing for the comfort of her womb
knowing that's as close to God as some of us will ever get.
sister, life is a gift
and sometimes it's as simple
as putting on one shoe at a time
moving one foot after the other
and if we trip..
let it be, not by our own hands
let it be because we walked thru this fire
yet, some believe birth is death
and all we got here by suicide
having choked on our mother's umbilical cords.
and the struggle from our first day to the very last
is a longing for the comfort of her womb
knowing that's as close to God as some of us will ever get.
sister, life is a gift
and sometimes it's as simple
as putting on one shoe at a time
moving one foot after the other
and if we trip..
let it be, not by our own hands
let it be because we walked thru this fire
and chose to live..
kdtaylor, 2006
section 8 coffee publications
all rights reserved
4 comments:
"she ties her shoe laces together,
daily.
falling, like failure
are similar to breathing
and without them
she wouldn't feel
as if she were truly alive."
you are a helluva wordsmith and image-crafter! so much :life" that you are able to give words that people have used for eons! damn your wit k.i.m.! :-)
"she ties her shoe laces together,
daily.
falling, like failure
are similar to breathing
and without them
she wouldn't feel
as if she were truly alive."
you are a helluva wordsmith and image-crafter! so much "life" that you are able to give words that people have used for eons! damn your wit k.i.m.! :-)
"pick up your cross
life is not a burden;
but it can be a fight.
realize your humanness,
realize the path
you travel in this life
is a journey that offers
so much more than
the pain you write"
Beautiful...and much needed. Thank you for this
"she unknowingly curses blessings
and blesses curses
twisted are her thoughts
knotted like oaks
and weakened like branches
bearing forbidden fruit
she plucks from its emptiness
allows life to consume her
and devours the insanity of it all"
...your pen always has a way of reaching out and tickling me under my chin.
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