Tag: poetry

Are Beez Happy?

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Uncategorized6 Comments

Are Beez Happy?

Smiling Faces by the Undisputed Truth

https://youtu.be/8CJZcVi5BA4

Happiness? Such a strange odd concept.

The fake Bluebird of Happiness only comes to shit on you.

Shitty bird. Shitty bird.

Fix Your Face Bitch! Put the Facade back on!!

The more she chased after the elusive bluebird the more it mocked her as she slammed into one brick wall after another. All the while humming the Bobby McFerrin tune, Don’t Worry. Be Happy.

https://youtu.be/d-diB65scQU

Outsiders a chorus of Don’t worry. Be happy. Yet never explaining how you can drink poison and be beaten for ten years yet are expected to heal in one day. All the while in the midst of The Perfect Shitstorm.

Ladies and gentlemen we are back after that brief intermission from our sponsors, The Bullshit Express.

It’s been a banner year for idiots despite escapes from maniac Mansion run by the insane clown posse.

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming. And Remember to wear your painted on evil clown smiles.

LOCKSTEP MARCH! My Wooden Soldiers! Laugh. Grin. Giggle.

Snark. Snark. Snark.

Rebar. Rebar. Rebar. It’s rained for 14 days straight. Should we build Noah’s Ark?

Stuck in the middle with you

https://youtu.be/DohRa9lsx0Q

https://youtu.be/sgl1hQmjITY

Stay in your Lane

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Uncategorized3 Comments

Recently I saw this Meme on Instagram.

A Private Life is a Happy Life

Usually I disregard most Memes as they are ridiculous, stupid and ignorant but this one resonated with me.

Over time I’ve been blogging less and less. Sharing less and less despite the cries of people who say my story matters.

In fact I deleted one of my blogs and have begun to delete many of my older posts. Contemplated deleting this blog also but it’s attached to my photography blog Roaming Urban Gypsy so it stays.

There are certain specific issues that I do discuss such as Austim in the hopes that my activism and advocacy will help other families who have developmentally disabled family members.

Of course Veterans since I am one and the ever present racism, bigotry and discrimination because well as a Black Woman in America that’s an every day experience.

However as far as my personal affairs especially concerning relationships, health, medical issues I’ve learned over time my parents expression, Don’t put your business in the street.

When you discuss your personal experiences online you open yourself up to ridicule, scorn and unwanted pity. People are not really empathetic and get off on reading about other people’s troubles so they can I’m better than so and so.

Of course everyone is different. Some people feel that being an open book is cathartic. For me sharing often makes me feel worse not better.

After a falling out with a friend I’ve known for over 35 years I realized that by telling someone I thought I knew, I only set myself up for judgment. As a result I play Public Face/Private Face. Much of the time I say what certain people want or expect to hear because they can’t handle truth. They live in a Disneyfied Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm world and reject any voice that doesn’t correspond to their expectations. Sometimes I will say stuff just to get people out of my face.

I maintain my Silence. For in the past I’ve had many regrets.

Now save for my creative endeavors the best parts of my life are not on social media. In fact I periodically disconnect from social Media. Once I retired last month August I vowed to live in the moment as much as possible. When certain specific folks that I highly respect asked me to share some of my poetic thoughts, photographs and creative moments I was happy to comply.

I still participate in many photography challenges because I enjoy them and I Love sharing, highlighting and showcasing New York city, my hometown.

Be Invisible.

Maintain your Mystery.

.

The Monstrous Other

On By dancingpalmtreesIn An Acquired Taste, Fusion Poetry, Hodgepodge Poetry, Poems, Poetic Transposition, Poetry, Prose and Poetry, The Monstrous Other, Uncategorized1 Comment

20180605_144243

The Monstrous Other

An Acquired Taste

Knowing winks and smiles exchanged as we passed each other in the hallways and I could see you through your window which faced mine across the way. She was an acquired taste which compelled both men and women to sample the wares.

Broadshire, Brock, Bicklebum & Looney

All late but not so great. Ice tinkling in her glass of sherry. Dream Catchers for the Dead.

Botox Bitches Trust Fund Hoes having caramel and chocolate dreams.

Society matrons with devious intent. Painted ponies being paraded around the room. Door to Door Equines once thoroughbreds not just painted nags.

Paleface bitches play judge, jury and executioner over darker tones.

No more putting up with white cracker nonsense being berated and belittled everyday.

Now the African Queen will arise!

Super proud of Colin Kaepernick and Nike.

I will buy Nike sneakers.

As for the white people burning Nike sneakers those are the same ones in pointed white hoods burning crosses. Getting upset about Nike decision but white folks comfortably enjoying their privilege while Black people are subjected to discrimination, bigotry and racism on a daily basis.

Served my country four years in the United States Army but my first name is still nigger and my last name bitch.

One day a Silent Hello Kitty will break free.

A Voice once silenced has now returned

The Nubian Ninja Reigns and Rules

“Trolls, I’m not here for your white supremacist, racist consumption” https://medium.com/@LeciaMichelle/trolls-im-not-here-for-your-white-supremacist-racist-consumption-5b40acef7693

The Mole People

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Beauty & The Beast, Chambers Street Subway Station, Fusion Poetry, Hodgepodge Poetry, Midnight Marauder, Poems, Poetry, Prose and Poetry, Ron Perlman, The Mole People, Uncategorized

Chambers Street Subway Station

The Mole People

Chambers Street Subway Station

Should be named the Chambers of Horror Subway Station. Looks like a left over movie set from an old Vincent Price film like the Secret Laboratory Chambers of Dr. Phibes! As I was sitting waiting in a train that I thought would never arrive I recalled that old TV show Beauty and the Beast starring Ron Perlman!

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beauty_and_the_Beast_(1987_TV_series)

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0092319/

Any moment as I awaited the mystery train dozens of denizens would emerge from subterranean underground chambers and caverns beckoning me to join them! I work the night shift usually arriving at the J train Chambers street station a little after midnight. The trains run so much slower after midnight. Cleaning, power-washing, maintenance and repairs. Subway workers doing after dark what cannot be done during daylight hours. That night as the platform seemed extra deserted. Even the regular unusual suspects of homeless, vagabonds and vagrants were not there. Sitting on the hard wooden benches. I wondered who or what could be down there? Abandoned trains from the nascent years of long discarded 20th Century subway cars? Zombie Train conductors and Motormen still driving ancient decrepit out of service trains? Secret Oracles and Seers ala The Matrix seeking the Chosen One?

Then as my sleep glazed over eyes swept across the opposite platform I saw or thought I saw a faint glimmer of a returned gaze. Shaking my drowsy head and blinking several times my eyes seemed to travel of their own free will back to an especially darkened area and I swore I could make out two silver eyes staring back at me.

Just then the thought crossed my mind, “Small mutants with Silver Eyes have great effects.”

Then I thought of all those who had fallen, were pushed or jumped onto the tracks? Ones who in violent deaths left behind their fragrant sillage and sludge. A Melancholy of neither being in this world or the next. Displaced spirits engaging in mindless repetition seeking results only they will understand.

That night the J train seemed even slower in arriving than usual. Then as if out of the mists a train pulled into the station. But where had it come from? None of the expected rumbling or screeching of rails to track. I boarded the mysterious train and as the doors closed behind me I knew this ride was not going to be the Polar Express.

Hmmmm……… A Potential Creepypasta in the making!

After suffering blows to my head, face and body from a fierce thrashing the night before, I awoke to utter darkness permeated only by a shaft of light coming from a small window high above my head. I attempted to move my arms and legs only to find that I was shackled to a contraption that can only be described as a type of restraining hospital bed found in mental institutions. Realizing the severity of my situation my muddled mind sought clarity; my first coherent thoughts were, “Why and how did I get to this place; where was I and how can escape. Gradually my eyes became accustomed to the limited light and since the bed was at an angle I could discern implements of upcoming torture, my torment that would be inflicted upon me if I did not escape or was not rescued.

Heavy measured footsteps approached and I could discern the voices of my captors. The door to the torture chamber opened and my persecutors became visible. There stood Dagmar aka Gorgeous Hellcat.

The underbelly of the castle where I was held against my will appeared to be a bomb shelter left over from the 1940s and 1950s. But as I gathered my various spinning selves together my focused eyes beheld a sight not seen by many above ground.
It was residence akin to a medieval castle built long ago by invaders long forgotten. A grand foyer flanked by two long hallways of Byzantine art leading into Medieval Sculpture Hall filled with statues of Madonnas, Saints, Catholic Mystics, Relics, and tombs from Egypt, Europe, Greece, Cyprus and South America. Each international tomb had a goddess from the respective ancient culture at the head and foot of the sarcophagus.
Venturing further into the castles subterranean chambers were overturned ossuaries, bones bleached white scattered throughout the tombs.

ASLEEP

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Afroid Dreams of Salvation, Ayahuasca, Between Earth and Heaven, Dreams, Dreams Fallen Down in a Well, DreamScape Kaleidoscope, Earth, Earth Zones, Fusion Poetry, Hodgepodge Poetry, Multiverse, Pods, Poems, Poetic Transposition, Poetry, Prose and Poetry, Rain Forest, Seer, Uncategorized, Vision, Vision Quest, Visions7 Comments

 

 

Asleep

 

I FELL into sleep becoming asleep eventually landing elsewhere.

 

Was it a parallel universe or an alternate reality?

I astral planed across the Multiverse dropping pieces of me wherever I landed.

The pieces planted took root and grew. Spreading myself throughout the Cosmos.

Everywhere is a seedling and a pod. Each pod is ready to be launched into dimensions and seasons yet to be born..

I drank the psychedelic brew. My innards erupted like a brewing thundering threatening volcano.  Explosion of volcanic ash and lava vomiting up brains, burning acids, guts and false notions. Distance tore through my cerebral cortex.

My stone heart turned flesh.  The sky, earth and seas faded away.  Sounds of sand animals,grass, birds, trees, grew silent.  Only my internal vibrations grew louder.

Drifting above the clouds I finally landed in what appeared to be a garage.  No cars. No trucks. No buses.  In fact no vehicles of any type, make or model.

Then I felt the thunder inside my bones.  I projectile spewed poisonous bile filled with scorpions, snakes and vultures.

Every piece of scar tissue on my broken body began to stretch and contort. Tendrils of brightly colored misty fog danced around me chanting in faint tongues.  Seconds, minutes, hours once fleeting gestures became stop motion audibles available only to me.

Two sets of hands one from the sky canopy the other set bursting from the earth zones grabbed and twisted me violently jerking my joints snapping my bones.

Visions melted before my eyes.  My extremities disconnected from my torso turning to mist and fog.  Spun silk swaddled me from birth to winding sheet.

 

Three sets of Gossamer wings sprouted from my back, shoulders and waist.  Like a human cannon ball I exploded into tiny kaleidoscope pieces of gems and jewels.

 

Vaulting  from the atmosphere my body careened around corners narrowly missing those ancient Pearly Gates picking up speed like a runaway freight train derailed from its course I will Live forever transcending logic.  Into new and mysterious truths.

 

Dreams and visions diffuse through my being.  Suffusing internal osmosis.   Breaking apart chaos.  Through synchronicity I was birthed into a trans-mortal being defying gravity, time and space.  Infused with crystal clear definition.

The Rain-forest applauded me.

For I am the Visionary.  The Seer.  The Oracle.