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Friday, November 30, 2012

CAIN'S MARK

“Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” – Proverb


Cain’s Mark


These marks
on the surface of my
skin have begun to
run and form tunnels
to my heart.

Those marks, coy as
shy tears
and dysfunctional lies,
wrangle with the
raped raw
arteries of my life
pushing blood to

those marks from
red stinging
finger tips, crashing
on the surface of my flesh,
leaving
a road map
to my magnum opus.

The mark, the fingerprint,
the passionate bruise,
the blood;
the symbols of my heart
are the bull’s eye for
my marks-woman’s rifle--

a bullet giving birth to
my stricken life,
fallen,
cursed,
risen,
and found
to be the score of my purpose.

The marks are now on my bones,
in my breath,
inscribed on my sword,
touched by my dignity,
and guided by my strength to
lead these scars forward.

TJKG

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

SMILE THERAPY43-- OOPS ON TUESDAY

Smile Therapy 43

I am in smile therapy
with this practical statement--

"Since everything is in our heads, 
we had better not lose them."
 Said Coco Chanel to Ken.


Monday, November 19, 2012

SMILE THERAPY 42

Smile Therapy 42

I am in smile therapy
even when I can't think
of anything to smile about!

Please share a smile with me.

TJKG

Saturday, November 17, 2012

MEDIEVAL CODE OF FAITHFULNESS


Medieval Code of Faithfulness

A black and white of Earhart,
(hung above pearled porcelain tiles)
her stoic eyes read a fate in the sky,
a fate written on equalities’ hidden water;
no exceptions for the life of the woman.

Before morning has started,
stored on flash memory,
I fade into a hallow hallway—
silently moving along time,
finding myself a part of the dark chamber,
displaced out of their family pictures—
Mother and Father--
still faces hold history,
own dignity of choice,
posed hands passing secrets,
souls unknown to my mind.

Breath strapped in my step as my
eyes shutter the light of
the open bathroom door.
                                       Amelia’s fate
is understood; 
a rounded woman sits in my frame.
Her legs spread,
white paper magnified,
black curls fallen, and
blood.

TJKG

Monday, November 12, 2012

Friday, November 9, 2012

REELING AND HUNKERING




REELING AND HUNKERING
(Under Sandy’s Fire)

Rise up in distress,
descend in compassion--
I used to hang out as a blond.
Controversial and twisted,
a hurricane of night’s questions--

not much could shake me--
                                           now--
other than life, or one glimpse of death.

Life is a language of red lines and fallen trees,
a quiet way, a convincing fire to demand a step aside.

She is a resurrection of her windy sin,
a sheath of rain reflecting.
Her soul’s body is listening to

the crank of hell left in my heart--
a callous which no longer defines me,
time’s evanescence  tunes the morning light.

I will not be my own burden--
rummaging through the
dialect of guilt—
it was a moment when the bars in my heart
began to melt.

She looked at me last night
and questioned her meaning;
I looked at her today and
understood mine.

If I speak too loudly, I will be the prisoner.
If I walk too hard, I will crack.
I remember in the quiet of midnight
the owls’ unfathomable flight.

TJKG

Monday, November 5, 2012

SMILE THERAPY 40

Smile Therapy 40

I am in smile therapy today
because I need therapy.
Ha Ha, I know, so do you.

TJKG