Tag: WP writers

Unsplintered

Eventually, you’ll know that I wrote this for you – though I’m publishing it because I’m not the only one in the world who needs, who deserves, who craves to be inspired by, reminded of, enlightened by an example such as you.

I just asked you the hardest questions ever about our budding relationship. I stated the hardest truths – unique to us, but not unique; and they may very well be the hardest truths we ever face.

It’s the second time today we’ve struggled through strong, heavy, deep emotions. Trudging through tidal waves in old rivers that promise to pull us under if we lose hold of each other, if we fail to keep aware, I led us this morning and again this evening.

It would be easier, of course, to slip into something comfortable and let the tide carry us away, swept on the surface of our emotions without ever diving beneath the rippling waves.

I’m not like that, though.

I don’t trust the way others live their romances, ignoring life and living, believing only what’s above the surface, pretending nothing exists beneath; then lying about where they’ve been when they delve into depths with other friends or lovers – or by themselves.

I’ve tried to lead men in this way before.

Countless times (very literally), I’ve been accused harshly for speaking the truth. Countless times, I’ve been hammered down for fearing, for feeling, for expressing my anxieties, my heartfelt wishes, my anguish-strained memories.

I was alone when you found me, this time, for a reason:

It never worked, before. I’ve countlessly been abandoned. I’ve endlessly been blamed, misunderstood, rejected.

It’s a lot, I know. Where once I was silent, afraid to speak a word about the rippling of my heart, reigned in the tidal waves of fears and tears and love and dreams because I was used to being beaten, I speak it all, given liberty to do so. I ask, still, rather than presuming. It speaks highly of… everything.

Not that any of that matters, now.

What matters is that you looked at your life, at our love, at the difficulties that lay ahead of us and, rather than hiding anymore, rather than accepting what is untenable, rather than asking that I accept something equally or more untenable, you took the lead.

You don’t know how proud I am of you for this, for what you did for me. For us. For you.

And you let me give this to you.

This, also, speaks highly of everything.

I know it’s not easy to face your truths. I know it’s not easy to change one’s life, to walk out into the unknown.

But you did it. You took that first step.

I’m so proud of you. As hard as it is, as deep as this hurts, I’m so proud of you for accepting responsibility for your life. For not evading anymore. For accepting yourself.

You’re not splintered anymore.

Splintered by Aisha Badru

They never taught us how to love
So we use our pain
To comfort us
And we never practice what we preach
Instead, we find
Someone else to teach

We try not to see with our eyes
We fill our plates
With dozens of lies
We try so hard to keep it in
We turn away
From what lies within

We are splintered
And we are rotten
Deep within the walls that we've forgotten
All the answers
To all our problems
Lie within the one who tries to dodge them

Ooooh, ooooh
Ooooh, ooooh

We're so afraid to be alone
So we hoard our pain
And call it home
They never taught us how to look inside
Only how to run and how to dry our eyes

We dig ourselves into a ditch
How many of us die
And pretend to live?
We stop the life from leakin' in
When we turn away
From what lies within

We are splintered
And we are rotten
Deep within the walls that we've forgotten
All the answers
To all our problems
Lie within the one who tries to dodge them

We are splintered
And we are rotten
Deep under the floorboards we've forgotten
But all the answers
To all our problems
Lie within the one who tries to dodge them

Ooooh, ooooh
Ooooh, ooooh

Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Aisha Badru

An Open Letter to a Nigerian CatFisher

I’ve been thinking of you, this morning.

Since the day I found out you weren’t real, when I looked into the real doctor, I’ve been thinking of how to write to you – to the real you.

Underneath it all, there’s a real you. I’m sure I touched upon it – with my poetry, with my writing.

So, I’m writing to the real you, this time — although, truth be told, I was writing to the real you, all the time.

Though you weren’t you.

Except in your responses to me; in your responses to my poetry.

“Charmed by your writing,” you wrote to me. That, I believe.

So, here I am, writing to you — to the human in you.

I told you, that first day, that I was skeptical of you. My senses were accurate; you were deceiving me. I don’t know why.

I’m told, and there are ways to learn, to surmise what your purpose was. I’m just a humble writer; just a humble poetess. I’ve not money to give you; only time. Only my time, and my writing.

So, I’m writing to you — for myself, this time.

Let me be open with you, for I am open (and that, incidentally, is why you’ve not hurt me):

I love what is real… and it was the real in you that kept me intrigued, that suspended my time with you, that suspended my disbelief.

It will never make sense to me that people deceive — whatever the reason, be it for money, for love, for attention. I am too real, too honest, too guileless to want in my life anything but what is real…

Even if a sweet romance with some intriguing man is beautiful to me.

For better or for worse, reality is what draws me; and honesty is what gives me strength. For better or for worse, truth, not lies, captivate my mind; beg me to enter any relationship, for any reason, and hold me, bind me to anything.

Birdsong; wafting breezes; thundering planes roaring through the sky. Chills from cool mornings and the heat of the sun in warm afternoons beckon me to stay, to indulge, to brave all else that may call to me. Truthful conversations, real reactions: these things draw me from whatever else I may feel — and not because I wish for something to happen, but because something is happening. Something real is happening.

And I am not afraid of shifts in weather, of shifts in personality; but only, ever, does deceit eat away at such things, for deception is the death of anything.

So, I ask you this: Why deceive? Why continue a deceit, a ruse when it was clear that you had nothing to take from me, when I could give you nothing more than time, when so much of my writing was yours, already, to read?

It is curious to me, for it was you who was caught in a trap of reality… and I have certainly been accused — before, by others to whom I gave my reality — of spinning a web in which they became caught.

You thought yourself the spider, and I the fly; but truth shows a mirrored reality: that truth, not lies, not deceit binds people. And it is truth, reality, openness that keeps us, nourishes us, gives us life — and love.

I get tired of the secrets; they’re only good when they’re revealed, in any case.

I’m intriguing only because I’m real, open, honest, vulnerable; and my vulnerability keeps me safe because I choose to be vulnerable — but not unwisely so, not naively so.

Conscious vulnerability is the safest place in all the world… because in this act, alone, I can see best all that there is to see; because I can see others’ shields sparkling, and I can see where vulnerability remains. I can see it, and I choose to prod those spots gently… not to cause pain, as others might; but to give life, to encourage increased vulnerability — with me, if with no one else.

So, take from me this:

You have a choice to be real, to be vulnerable, as I have seen you to be. You have a choice to read and respond, or not to respond and remain in your dark secrets.

But I live in the freedom of life, and I can feel the breath of breezes touching me; while you and all of those who shield themselves — in others’ skins, as you tried with me, or behind the walls of their other fictions — feel only what slips beneath the seams of your various armors.

I am real. And that is honestly the most valuable thing I have… but you cannot have all of my reality, nor anyone’s (not even your own), if you do not remove your own armor first and step into your own reality.

I hope, for your own sake, that you abandon this fruitless cause that isolates you so deeply.

Daydreams

And the world is blue without your arms
And grey, without your mind;
It’s red, without your kisses, fine,
Refined by stalwart art

My mind creates a land of charms
With vibrant greens and gold
Despite the chill of winter’s cold,
Brown swallows dash and dart

Amidst white clouds and shining things,
A rainbow hangs above;
And sing a bird’s song, bright, of love,
Into this brand-new start

Come hither, where the church bell rings
With every passing hour
And bring to me a springtime flower,
And in my life, take part

And the world is blue without your arms
And grey, without your mind;
It’s red, without your kisses, fine,
Refined by stalwart art

My mind creates a land of charms
With vibrant greens and gold
Despite the chill of winter’s cold,
Brown swallows dash and dart

Amidst white clouds and shining things,
A rainbow hangs above;
And sing a bird’s song, bright, of love,
Into this brand-new start

Come hither, where the church bell rings
With every passing hour
And bring to me a springtime flower,
And in my life, take part

Into My World, A Shadow Falls

Into my world, anew, a darkness drew —
Fell, near burning fires, a shadow’s gaze
Upon my weary count'nance; and I knew:
This shadow's grip would claim me, all my days

And stole into my mind and heart, it's true;
Gave up to me the secrets of its ways;
And promised shining things: the morning's dew
Could never shine so bright, nor yield such praise

And still, my mind and heart were warmed anew,
A wav'ring shadow wandered in its plays
Until a darker threat ran its soul through:
Pure jealousy chilled the shadow to such craze

And madness, took the shadow's mind and blew
A word of banishment to me, did itself faze
When love eternal, promised I to you;
Retreated beyond life, into its haze —

But, what, pray tell, are gentle souls to do
When anger only turns a soul to blaze,
For shadows grow in strength and number too...
Obscure, oblique... This life is but a maze...

And I am lost, and all the shadows, too
Should I find on my skin thine sharpened blades
And I would find my skin turn tanned to blue
'Fore I would e'er journey to dark malaise

...Though shadow distantly, coldly withdrew,
Though shining heart is mine, my soul ablaze,
I find neither shadow nor I can yet undo
What binding tied our souls, those fateful days

Mine Is the Life and the Love

You all know it.

You all fear it.

You all want it.

You all can have it

In a moment
In a madness
In a sadness

Stilled by memories
Stilled by thoughts
Stilled by dreams

Yours is the life and the love of things
Lost to all but love of dreams
Realizing dreams of dreams of things

Open up your hands and see
Open up your hearts and dreams
Open up to everything

Fingers chilled on autumn nights
Deer and stars stand, silent, by
Life, intensity lives in mine

Ode to White

Tucked into nearly-nothingness
The fall of snow, I must profess -
Aside from chill that does repress
My eager heart and mind -

May be of Nature's best success
The purity does quite impress
With wafting swirls in great excess
Despite those quarantined

The color, fine, in evening dress
Is perfect as love's faithfulness,
Blended light made to coalesce
As none others less refined

For white, alone, cannot oppress
A canvas on which to express
Each step of life's minute progress -
With white, I am aligned.

Cascades of My Heart

Why ache, my heart
when love is come so quick?
Why fever's pitch?
Or are we both homesick?

And yet, the fire's heat melts
all this pain to shades
Of rainbowed beauty flooding
o'er the world, cascades

Of my heart, pulsing
with the long passage of time
And all I hope is:
I am yours, and you forever mine

All

It has been said that
Cigarettes
Are a way to hold
Fire
In a human's hand

It has been said that
Wine
Is the source of
Life

I say that
You
And I
Are yet the depth of
Love

And love
Is
Life
Is
Fire
Is all of
Faith
Is
Truth
Is
All

Is
All

Is
All

Kindness Brings What Kindness Does

Within a measured caste, am I,
yet treasured by the skies above
or so it seems, when, like a dove,
my soul has wings, has learned to fly

And freedom is a treasured thing
I find in dusky days and nights
alit by stars and firelights,
though open heart is all I bring

And I, though humble cast-away,
am rescued by an unknown Queen,
removed from all the pain that’s been,
may find a home where I may stay

So, for the kindness She bestows
upon my weary heart and mind,
I, too, must give my heart in kind
and treasure my life, highs and lows

No longer dirty, beaten-down;
no longer tiresome, parched and faint,
I lend my soul without complaint
to She, the bearer of that Crown

For kindness brings what kindness does,
as proven throughout history,
as proven, yet, if but by me
in all I am, and all that was

written for the doll, Sofya, in the Skotos world of Castle Marrach, in honor of Queen Vivienne

So-and-So

So,
you don't want the words I spill,
pouring from this surging swell,
cresting lips you've known so well
from depths of me you've helped to fill

'Why bother with men,' an old man said
one chilly night, when the leaves were dead,
after up his walk my feet did tread;
and, quickened, my mind and my heart then sped

"I love because I must," said I,
and gazed into that darkened sky
remembering how many had said 'Goodbye,'
loving each one anew to verify

So,
you don't want words uttered now, do you?
Don't want my heart, though undoubtedly true.
Don't want to delve into all we've been through,
Can't walk away to a fresh morning dew

And that's still your trouble, my favorite dear:
That the past remains:  insurmountable fear,
You'd sooner look on us with distasteful sneer,
Sooner leave your past lonely and shed not a tear

I'll cry for us both, as I've cried times before
And I'll keep true to us, as I've kept true our lore
While you hold yourself stifled, and life, you ignore -
But I'll not forsake you; you're one I adore

Speaking in the Face of Fear

Say it to me again, yet again
Those words that drip with firey ice
Squawk, tear at me due to hidden pain
Tell me calm words are not so nice

Tell me, you who would teach me again
Tell me, again, that I speak too much
When I speak my heart, though perfectly plain
When I utter no nonsense, but reason-and-such

Say it to me, heart’s love, just one more time
Those words no one can stand to hear
Those cruel words of your stain’ed mind
Whispering echoes of your darkest fear

Loose on me your deep regrets
Charged heavily with your father’s voice
Sing to me pained refrain, don’t forget
When I speak with truth, my heart’s deepest choice

But ‘t’were coddling words you wanted to hear
Since speaking true words is your greatest fear
And hearing truths unbidden a dastardly crime
Though untruths claim your life time after time

I learned: Strangling my voice was my only vice
From the one who enacted my crime-not-so-nice
We don’t get to choose truths or to cut grafts and splice
Else you’d be as that one was, a true accomplice

So, don’t tell me, aged one
Words of honey sweet
Can undo what one has done
While I stand on my feet

And please grasp: I’m not uncouth
Nor you, I chastise
If I can’t shut my mouth
I just don’t compromise

Still lauded as smart
I stand up for myself
I am true to my heart
Don’t put it on a shelf

So please, don’t slap me down like the child you feel
When I’m offering words, if you’d take, that might heal
But your ego is great and your fear overtakes
And we both lose our tempers, make horrid mistakes

Do you think, for a second, if I’d listened to you
If I’d shut my mouth tight, as you demand that I do
That I’d not be so brandished in life as I’ve been?
I promise you, I did; felt their fists time again

So, you beg that I stop
But I promise, I shan’t
It’s a choice that I make
Even if love is scant

Understanding takes all but a moment, my dear
Understanding that love sometimes mixes with fear
Understanding that truth is truth, despite what you take
Understand vocalizing is a choice we each make
Understanding comes whether we like it or not
But choose not understanding, all chances are shot

PROLOGUE

And now, you have but a memory close
And I shan't give you lectures
We've each had our last dose
All through fissions and fractures
We lose love and time
And you're not even likely
To read this last rhyme

Two

He wasn’t there at all; it was just the music that made her heart ache, swim, stir like those moments when they had kissed, when he had touched her hand, when he had reached to her cheek and held her so gently, stroked her hair softly, gave her all of the love that he now thought he couldn’t give.

He wasn’t there to kiss her thighs, to kiss her knees, to kiss her calves and her ankles, to worship her in that way that felt like she was a part of love, like they were both a part of the same love, worshiping some sacred moment, some higher power with every religious slip of a tongue, with every precious pressing of lips. Yet, he was there, the whole time: The music sang to her in the same way he moved along her body; it soothed her in exactly the same ways his lips broke — with easy, warm kisses — her iceberg tension; it enveloped her in exactly the ways his arms enveloped her, his energy wrapped around her; it slipped into her ears exactly as his breath, his conversation entered her mind, feeding her soul more thoroughly than any other nourishment.

He would be a part of her forever, now – as he had been a part of her through all the years apart, despite forgetting how she’d loved him once, long ago, in such a youthful, hopeless way. For now, they’d had conversations as adults; they’d made love as adults; they’d held each other’s eyes and bodies as adults:  with full consciousness.

She didn’t want any other, and she thought she’d likely wind up with another, at least for a time.

When she was with him, though… there was no other.  There was only him.  Two, alone, and her.

And that was all there ever needed to be.

Photo ©2017 MLM

Don’t You Know?

Don't you know it?

I long to feel the skin upon your face,
The brush of whiskers nettled on your chin
And when I reach to touch, you to embrace
I find that I am forced to reach within

For - don't you know?

I tremble all the day and all night long
My body eager, vibrating as you strum
The heartstrings of such a familiar song
Fingers not yet on flesh, yet I you thrum

The depths between us bide in another place,
Entwined and dancing lovers, 'round we spin,
In happy dreams and love, ethereally encased,
Far from the heat and noise of this life's din

And I cannot foresee another way
Than dancing deeply in a world unknown
So I will live and love another day
That one day, maybe soon, depths will be shown

That, maybe one day soon, I will be yours
And you'll be mine, in body too;
That one day soon, we'll dance through doors
And ethereal worlds we'll live, both I and you

So, don't you know?

My heart is bound to yours, and lost to me
It's yet my mind you kiss, that you must woo
And I, lost in this fantasy
Somehow made real, this life, by your love true

And - you must know!

Forever, in this time
That you are yours, and also I am thine;
That I belong to me, and you are mine!
That we are ours, forever-love sublime

Photo credit: Pexels Free Photos

Only You

Only you
Defied reality
Defiled my mind
Withstood my sea
Came back to me

Not only you
Resisted reality
Withheld your mind
Shrank from my sea
Came back to me

Only you
(And only they)
Could claim my mind
Shift what you say
With meanings play

Not only you
(Nor only they)
Left me, my mind
And heard me say
"Love is not a game I play,"

But only you
Are only you
I keep my mind
My heart is true
I still have room for "I love you"

If You Ever Wonder Why You Lost Me

If you ever wonder why you lost me
All you have to do is remember
The countless words I spilled for you
Swept aside like autumn leaves
Blown away like apple blossoms
Discarded like old newspapers
Every word a drop of blood
A ray of sunlight
A breath of sea spray
Ignored
Unwanted
Every word, a piece of me
Relinquished wisdom
Burned in the bonfire
Of your bitter life

Photo ©2017 MLM

Tell Me How

Tell me how
You might be brave
When you run away
At the first glimpse of danger

Tell me how
You'd make me a slave
You demand your way
But you're not my maker

Tell me how
To ignore this wave
When love is not a game I play
I cannot help but feel this anger

Tell me how
I can but leave
Sequestered, I can't find a way
And I was not born to be a faker

The Treason of Humanity

No one wants to know how much it matters to talk, how vital it is to express oneself.

But no one tells the birds to be quiet, or the crickets to be silent.

Nothing but fear and instinct shuts them down, causes them pause – and it is only a pause, to better assess the situation, to gauge their safety and the safety of their community. A pause…

And then, back to what they were saying, doing. Singing to who-knows-what in the middle of the day; chirping to the stars all night long.

But we humans?

We learn to speak, and are silenced immediately.

We never have a chance to sing to our hearts’ desires, to speak to our minds’ content. We cannot ask the millions of questions, cannot share the billions of things we’ve learned.

We are shut down by mother, father, sister, brother, grandparents, aunts and uncles, teachers… by everyone. Not engaged. Not even distracted. We are bound to listen, to obey…

To relinquish our freedom of speech before we ever know what that means.

And we wonder at the lack of intelligence in our day.

We are confounded at the dissolution of marriages, of families, of relationships.

We wish for peace…

And yet, we cannot, will not speak, will not allow hearts to speak…

Though we cannot help but love those few who break through the silence, the rules of self-oppression.

I would give anything to listen, and to speak.

To be me, Meri, for all eternity.

And so…

I shall.

Politeness is treason of our own humanity.

Different Love

You may know so many things, be attuned to my mind...
But do you know the depths of love?

Why stop a feeling that is so kind?
Why stop a lover's heart?

Why end a love before its time
When it has barely had time to start?

What river's course would you dare tame
When all of life survives therewith?

So, why, when love behaves the same
Would any heart leave and claim the Fifth?

I love, and love, and love again
And not but one has dared to claim

My heart as deeply as he has,
Though I and he've not come to pass...

And, what on earth's a girl to do
When I love others differently than I love you?

Photo ©2016 MLM

Tender

Tender is his heart,
Tender is his love,
The one who reaches me,
Plucked me from skies above;

Tender is his touch,
Tender is his kiss,
And tender is my heart for him;
And all I am is his.

Photo ©2016 MLM

Doubts Borne of Men I’ve Loved Before

You know you're beautiful, like no one else,
I've seen the way you hold yourself:
That shameless poise as you just pass through
Holding my heart like I belonged to you

What is it you do not see
That makes it easy to discard me?
What is it you love much more
That you'd walk out and shut the door?

You know you're talented, so self-made,
I've seen the wealth and the accolades:
Dropped a trifle in my palm,
Wrote me off without a qualm

What is it makes you cease to care
Despite all that we vowed to share?
What is it you want so much less
That you'd shatter my heart, leave it a mess?

You know you're so very skilled at love,
I remember the things we'd both dream of:
That passionate demand in my ear
Making me wish I could hold you near

What is it makes you disappear,
Pretend we were not, then wander clear?
What is it you get with her
To pretend that you and I never were?

You know your life is so very nice,
Family so lovely as to entice,
Home so calm my dreams I might sell
If I didn't know your wishes well

What is it makes you shield your heart
When we've managed this belated start?
What is it makes you act this way
Where I'm damned sure you'll go away?

You know you're just so very smart
I gave you my life to take apart,
I'd have been with you a million years
But you left me spilling a heart full of tears

What is it you loathed so much
That you tore me apart, gave so rare a touch?
What is it makes you blind to see
That it was your problem more than it was me?

Photo ©2020 MLM