Tag: poems

She Opened the Door

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Uncategorized

Trigger Warning!

She Opened The Door

The Visitor

She opened the door and Pandoras Box flew in. Doorbell rang. Evil answered. Violence ensued. Death severed all Love ties.

SHE COVET HER…………….

SHE WERE A SMOKESTACK DAYWALKER FALSE TO HER BONES. STORM SURGE. RETURN HURRICANES TORNADOES TSUNAMI……..

July 10, 1974

Story of Ten

Was it her fault? She was only ten. How could she know? But guilt and shame will follow to the grave. Woman said that She was Mommas friend. Or so she said. Friend is a term of convenience loosely translated.

Ten ran to get help but it was already too late. As it usually is. But eventually Ten grew up and became Twenty.

Enter into the darkness allowing it to enter your immortal mind. Feed your Night Terrors.

Future Mothers day Journeys take on New meaning.

Lightning Saber. Growth Shifter.

Found her as an abandoned forgotten kitten cub alone in the Forest. Fed her. Housed Her. Trained Her. Loved Her well. Tiny Sleek Glossy Obsidian terror.

Loyalty to a fault.

Lightning Saber was a not so Secret gift from the Really Really Old Old Man with six toes on each foot.

Long ago it was predicted that our enemies would be destroyed by Light aka Lightning. She wields the Saber of Judgment and death.

The Really Really Old Old Man was suckled by the bare breasted boy Tree. An Arboreal species gifted with both sap secreting mammary glands along with testicular organs with the ability to produce seeds. Thus enacting the process of Self pollination.

Howlin’ Wolf

Twenty grew strong from military service. Twenty grew bold gaining courage from years of abuse. Twenty learned to Never back down.

Twenty laid Her trap well lacing it with sweetness and light. Gladly entering the spider’s web excited with a sense of her own importance. Getting stuck was pure Joy.

Devious female took the bait while sharp Saber took her life.

Firmly cast into the abyss. Murderous soul awakening dead.

Warrior Woman spirit finally flew Free. Mommas Soul Rejoiced.

The Deed done Saber once again Kitten sized jumped into my arms. Clasping her to my breast feeling her soothing purring rhythms.

Mommas Day Memories

Cave Dreamscapes

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Uncategorized7 Comments

Cave Dreamscapes

https://amoafowaa.com/2019/05/08/kutugye-nonsense/

Falling into the Joyous Chasm

Bone. Stone and Wood rocks sand, Surf and Seaside. Sharp edges flint abrasion within my soft channels. You burst through underwater caves with furious pounding motion. Ebb and flow wash over me. Casting my limp body out to sea returning it road hard and put out wet.

The curling of toes mixed with yelps of desire. Thunderous Hurricanes combined with tsunami pelting debris. No escape but do I really want to leave?

Flecks of Gold descended from Heaven.

A Tool used well sculpts my being. Melting. Realigning internal tectonic plates.

Caverns long left abandoned and unexplored gave Praise to Adventurous Exploration. A Talented Prospector mapping out New roads within the promised land.

Waking up in cold sweats on hot humid summer nights. Sweat with nowhere to vaporize pooling from crown to feet connecting to underground reservoirs.

A thirsty land temporarily satiated.

Each Cycle Loops Continuity

An Abandoned Prayer

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Uncategorized1 Comment

An Abandoned Prayer

Like a Prayer abandoned on the Street. Entangled in bristles, thistles and Thorns. Tassles of Arteries and veins held together with dirt, clay and determination.

Hunchbacks of soil encase S-shaped spine. Skewers of sticks, rocks and Bones pierce my sides.

Roots pulled violently from the Earth yet not pulled apart. Therein lies my hidden strength. Palatine Realms are found in Dead Doorways.

Muscles and sinews exposed to unfamiliar daylight.

Souls came with me as I was ripped from my terrestrial womb. Eruptions of long gone Voices suddenly displaced from home. Not so Silent surrender. Songs and Dreams dispersed floating driftfully seeking sanctuary.

Head bent forward. Seated alone while being ignored by passersby.

Will I become sawdust or mulch washed away by the rain. The Valued parts of me became a plank, a board, an Artist Table.

Am I not as good as those housed in white walled sepulchres?

Then came one who saw my deeply entrenched Holy Beauty.

She who with loving rituals committed my energy to time and eternity. My Memory lives on Thanks to Her. Cosmic Travel lives on.

I see you She said. I see the authentic natural real you.

Sob Sister Fell on Her Sword

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Uncategorized

Sob Sister Fell on Her Sword

Sob Sister Fell on Her Sword. She declined to Renew Her Invitation to the Disease of the Month Club by Ending it All in One Final Gesture.

You look at my like unfamiliar terrain you thought you knew so well.

You search the portals of my Eyes seeking redemption. 404 Message Not Found.

She realized that She had become a source of entertainment and jest. An Object of Pity and Not So Secret Scorn.

She issued an Edict, Going forward There will be No More Celebration of sickness, illness or disease! NEVER AGAIN!

Is this the real me or shall I search for another? Which version? Which flavor? Which make and model?

She laughed with the Wisdom of old age and hindsight. Laughing their words to scorn.

I am Not the Story you Created for Me!

Floods quenched and extinguished the once Fiery Spirit into calm Lakes and gentle ponds.

You think that you know someone but you only know the mask they present to you on that specific day and time.

Don’t get it twisted!

You can never be sure who’s behind the mask.

RDP Monday: FOOL

The Main Ingredient — Everybody Plays The Fool

Paul McCartney– Fool on The Hill

Impaled Sob Sister Sank Deeper and deeper into the Ground which had turned to Quicksand eagerly anticipating its evening meal.

She died. She died. She died.

And We are So Glad that she’s Done.

Many Rivers to Cross by Jimmy Cliff

https://youtu.be/SF3IktTk_pQ

More Truth in this song than 1000 Affirmations.

Wandering Journeys

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Uncategorized

Another sleepless night at yet another flea bag hotel motel filled with stinky fungus filthy shit smells.

Trout Pout. Toothless Grins.

Fool on The Hill

Woken up by banging garbage trucks and banging couples beating their heads along with various other body parts against the headboard filmsly glued to the threadbare walls. Pillows round my head. TV turn up still doesn’t drown out the animal grunting sounds.

Coffee and cigarettes. Tea and toast. Then it’s off to yet another meeting. Yet another convention.

Somebody reminds me that it’s yesterday, today or tomorrow. Or perhaps all three together.

Send them on their way. Send them on their way.

Bubbled. Bagged. Packed and DONE.

Wanderers dispatched inside within Tornadoes, Blizzards, Hurricanes, Earthquakes and Mudslides.

Blitzed with Noise from both within and without.

Journeyman. Journeyman! When will I see the light of day?

Journeyman! Journeyman! Where will I be?

Loop. Repeat.

Yet another night in a dingy dirty flea bag motel. Located in still another decrepit long forgotten Fly by night by the hour on the

outskirts greasy spoon dive backwater SROs. Dirty needles and used condoms litter the floors making pathways to dodgy stairwells.

Trains running backwards and upside down.

Vanquished

Residents fixed in place. Darkness of days. Cosmic inversions. Moonless of nights.

Mutilated People have mutilated dreams.

Backhanded compliments seeking FORGIVENESS while repeating their sinful insults over and again. Feigning confused innocence so transparent I see the smirk on your face. Demons wearing Angels Wings.

Trust broken. Friendship never was.