HERstory

Our bodies we reject
The truth we neglect
Until the mystery of a magic bullet
Allows us to hope for all we could always intuit
  "I may just may be a carrier of beauty"
And...we bravely begin to believe
What was taken away by thought thieves
We are elegant!
Brazen, strong and defiant !
We shall slay society's untrue giant
It matters not if others see it
It is up to us to simply be it
By nature of our birth
We are goddesses gliding o'er this earth
Gaze into the mirror on the wall
We are not nothing, we are all

 

Painted Poem

Scene one

A dark November bedroom....through the window, the rise of the sun....orange and hot amongst the cold ghost like frosted morn.

A woman sits up and stretches in her bed.......

"What will the day bring?" she wonders

The answer comes..... perhaps sung from the sun rising overtly orange in the crisp frosty morn.

The sexy sun sings:

"anything you wish it to bring"

 

The rise of the sun signals

a new beginning

A blank canvas 

Reflected in the stark white

of the

framed and stretched

shape 

Is the blaze

of orange

the kiss of pink.....

the paint trails of possibilities

 

Pen your painted poem

Tell your story in brush strokes

Paint your passions

In the walk of your day

and the dance of your night

Each sunrise a

new canvas to create

upon, within

Sexy or sullen scenes

Perfectly purged upon the

space, waiting 

An image created

or none at all
For a blank space
is vibrating....
still

The sexy sun sings to us 

"as you wish"

She teaches us....
as she paints her canvas
of white clouds
waiting
She says........

"Scene two

is up to

you....."

 

 

 

Tell Me (Your Stories)

Tell me your stories
If they are bathed in truth
Tell me your stories
The ones of your youth
Tell me your stories
Let me know your past glorious
Tell me your stories
Tell me of times you were victorious
Tell me your stories outrageous
Your ebb and flow and your voice is contagious
Tell me all about you
And listen as I share about me, too
As we share, we grow the love between us
We build a bridge of trust

Tell me your stories, I shall keep them like treasures of gold
Buried in my heart, as they grow with me as I get old
Tell me your stories, your triumphs and regrets

And I will speak them back to you if you ever forget

http://www.twistedrootstudios.com