The Devil's Tunnel Runs

                                                                             ~2017

The Devil had gotten a hold of my mama

And knocked me down. 

The Devil I hadn't realized had won, 

Until somehow I had backed down 

Out and away, 

From the temptations of defeat. 

For I had been on my back weeping, 

And it struck me by whom, 

That I could channel these emotions into music. 

Transformed, the Devil's grip lost restraint, 

But hovers so. 

       A Muse in an Underworld. I vow not to remain lost forever.  The outline of a tunnel, 

Has me grasping with wing-ed claws to the Earth once more; reaching out of the depths of Hell, 

In this plain assimilation of a 2017 version of us.  On "Earth". 

  But this is not who we are, is it? 

God, an outstretched hand in the sky- an invisible force of love and compassion as an ultimate wisdom in all things. 

    Some of us are born without what others have. Defunct. I am without you, oh Lord. Simple Nature beholden to constraints. I am without the love I wish the world could have. And yet, I know, that it is here in me. Wishing somehow, that it were greater. Wishing somehow, that it was not as small as the love of individual, messed up man. But....who am I to judge more perfect a creation than anything I have ever made? I am no one. Simply now, I must observe then in its reverence and learn from it, by such logic. 

Some would say, however, that my logic is flawed. I fail to agree with them, by their definitions, but will always submit to a "Wiser authority". Is this not the nature of Love and Humility together? 

When the Devil grasps those that are close to me, I then become like It- whatever "it" is. 

I retain now my power to defy this Devil by seeing it where it is. I am the power of God, and that is the relationship and reminder that I know. It is the Devil that tells me I am lesser, and so I pinched myself awake once more, from yet another tranced dream.  

A tunnel. 

Hell. 

And a single perception, of hopelessness. 

   

     So I let the light in, 

And all shadows were cast away. 

Stilettos

My tip is a heeled woman up on the ball of her feet, teetering an edge as if reaching to see, 

At a cliff's boundary. 

I tight walk, as if almost I can fly, heeled and all, and my dress gathering up in the wind. 

I bank off to the left in my mind, sound and serene adrift is a froth of cloud and mists.  

Greens gather the origins around me, as I see lands under blossom trees.  

     And to the right, is that which is beyond me- a time, distance warp of future and unseen. 

  Grabbing at my hat, before the brazen gusts strip it from me, I come back down from my toes, my heels sliding into these shoes.  

 I slip one off, to feel the rock against my bare feet.  Unearthed, it fell, over the edge, 

As if to say, 

     "This could have been you". 

I thought about it for a while starring far away into the canyon below, where my heel had managed to escape- starring far, away... thinking, 

I must have been flying... 

Tip toes 

  Tracing edges, 

In heels and rock.  

I fell to the wind... 

  But she caught me.  

I shook the second heel loose from my other foot, and kicked it off the cliff, in a pushing motion

  It was an omen, prayer, sacrifice, death, and birth.... 

all I could do to honor it, was kick my heels off the cliff.  

  So I did.  

And I sat for a while, thinking how stupid I had been,  

 

To trace gods sky,  

  In stilettos,  

Upon crumbling adobe and purges of winds.   

I was not taken that day. 

  But something changed.  

I never flew again. 

I never even tried. 

Secret Shadows

There is so much to cipher, 

  In these dark corners of my mind. 

And then again, 

 The darkness is mostly 

 Only you 

Floorboards; pt 2

If there were words to be plastered...

  I could not forge them. 

They will harbor no mold, no shape, 

  And I will put them under the floorboards 

Where they belong 

Our Fate

Sleepless nights, other life's

 Rattle in my wake

Let us shadow walk together, 

  As we are bound. 

Come back. 

Before it is 

  Too late. 

I can not lay still, in bed, in the hours when we wake. 

A Daydream, no night escapes. 

 Come back. 

Come back to me- 

Before it is 

Too late 

Artemis

Finally...

A chill in the air. 

The temperature has shifted. 

I am in two places at once. 

Holding you, 

And Holding him. 

I do not want to eat, but luckily, 

He feeds me. 

I do not know where you have gone...but luckily, 

He is here. 

I am draped with the burdens he knows well and bares...

Couched by them. 

Inhaling the demons that peer behind my mothers eyes, 

As she leans on me, 

Til once I was crushed, 

Time 

And time again. 

The karma is weighted, pitted against our future, like we are ever walking forwards on an escalator going up. 

I have endured the motherlessness...

The betrayal, the use

Under the cerebral palsy of narcissism; 

Against the demonic shell that took over 

That woman's psyche long ago. 

As I endure much. 

The words of his Step-mother beseech a wrath in me, I have til now, kept at bay. 

The other cheek, I would turn with the underlying shock of the audacity that would come out of that woman's mouth. 

She reminds me of my mother. 

She reminds me of the girls' mother, 

Whom no longer do I speak to. 

She reminds me of the "friends" that judged, 

Instead of being a safe place to heal in the heart of. 

I am not perfect...but why are they so unwise, these people around us? 

Why has he gone? 

Our Sweet Artemis. 

Now the prayers must never cease. 

Now the love must always flow. 

Now I must continue to be the bigger person against all these perpetrations 

Against us. 

With what energy I have, I have done what I can. 

And I will do more. 

I have nothing to be sorry for. 

I kept myself alive. 

And I keep getting out of bed to face each day. 

Where has he gone, our love? 

I wonder, if ever, he might return.