A Tweet Collaboration

A [couple of] tweetpoem(s) between one of my fave tweeters/bloggers @LiliacSin and myself (@RzrTonguedPoet). You can find her blog at Liliac Inked Illusions

Take 1:


Liliac: Those eyes of caged souls blindly screaming in the pit of insanity... a shade of deathfilled ebony...
Me: To describe the abyss as black is simply child's play...look at the sun's eclipse to see the night overtake day

Liliac: Yet they crave the white of my skin, the purple of my sin... the root of my love... the pure of my lust...
Me: Their cravings are transparent and although they present with purity, I cut through them like a prism, dividing truths

Liliac: Your shadow inhaling me into the stillness of your nite~ binding me with the mirage of the sun...
Me: Echoes of your soul resonate within my canyon~ underneath the blood red moon of seclusion

Liliac: your pearly grey mist seeping into my veins, coiling around my existence~ tenderly wrapping me in sweet rage...
Me: Just like a boa you cradle and constrict my heart simultaneously, squeezing out all emotions~ leaving my vessel almost empty

Liliac: breaking me to heal me with the prints of untouched hands of heaven~ adoring me entirely with your mind of mayhem...
Me: Driving me crazy, like he drove Ms. Daisy~ comprehension of our contradictions compound our caged condition

Copyright © 2010 Natasha Guy (@RzrTonguedPoet) All Rights Reserved.
Copyright © 2010 LiliacSin via twitter (@LiliacSin) All Rights Reserved.


And Take 2:



Me: Seduce my brain well til I feel shivers down my spine. Roll my tongue over your soul as you whisper that it's mine.
Me: Shared vibrations can rock more than my world, just like I can make more than my physical body twirl.
Liliac: Teasing my world like a dangling spirit, whispering words when i rather you scream it...

Me: Let your octaves pierce the darkest corners of my mind, I think I'll try to hide; you see what you can find
Liliac: Seductive mindwaves from behind a pure face, tempting me with purple just so ill cave...

Me: You knew what you were doing when you crawled under my skin, All of  you pushed right thru me just before i could rescind
Liliac: Because i ached to drown in your lake of wordfilled aggression & fill my soul with a poet obsession...

Me: So quench the thirst that threatens to drown me. Dont leave me stranded on a deserted island without thee
Liliac: Sandcastles made of sharp pen to tenderly slice into me, your sweet tsunami jabs touching greedily...

Me: Don't worry about the many little death's I'll die, just remember you did this when I begin to cry.
Liliac: Cover me in the beauty of your violence & sorrow, cradle me in lyrics of a different tomorrow...

Copyright © 2010 Natasha Guy (@RzrTonguedPoet) All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2010 LiliacSin via twitter (@LiliacSin) All Rights Reserved.

Devoted

Letter to an Unfinished Love

My mornings are still filled with thoughts of you.

When the sun peeks through my windows,

I smile because I feel you on the other end.

Your absence makes my heart grow fonder.

I’ve always heard the saying, but now I’ve lived it.

Maybe this had to be to prove to you what was truth.

If that is the case, take your time in being sure.

If this is what I believe it to be, it will only grow.

Your strength, determination and clarity still amaze me.

I can’t hide that I am in awe of you.

Your name always comes out of my mouth with a smile.

Your face will always melt my heart; this you know.

You’ve been ingrained on every strand of my DNA.

My spirit, soul and body have been intertwined with yours.

I refuse to let two-thirds of that connection disintegrate.

The other third is impossible to constantly maintain.

Especially with the lives we choose to lead.

But that too again, soon enough.

  

Deprivation of self, of the flesh, is manageable.

To keep the hearts and minds untouched though, is unreasonable.

Just swear to me that you won’t erect a barricade.

Tell me that you too feel the tug that I do.

More than aware you are that our hearts are one, not two.

So as the saying goes, my love, to thine own heart be true.

Copyright © 2010 Natasha Guy

Fun with words

So I'm procrastinating with word games on Facebook to avoid NaNoWriMo writing lol!!! And we have this:

(to the rhythm of the Eurythmics song Sweet Dreams)

These nuts are made of bees...


Who am I to steal honeyyyyy


I travel the world, stinging flowers and trees, everybody's looking for honeyyyy


Some of them like it in hot tea, some of them want it in their oooooatmeal...


oooooooo ooooooo...some of them want to consume it, some of them want you to eat it off them...

ROFL I love my friends!
Copyright © 2010 Natasha Guy

This right here is exactly what my most recent poetic post, Necessities and Desires, is about!

Love Love Love this song for multiple reasons

Necessities and Desires

My looks of concern and longing

Were mistaken for sadness and gloom.

Being crystal clear only works

If you speak the same language.

I longed to be included,

Not held at bay with the rest.

I was careful not to push and demand a place,

But let you come to me; even though, you never did.

Then, I became an obligation to fulfill;

Another entity on a checklist to complete.

Things were scheduled simply to keep me pacified.

I was no longer assigned emotions, but a time slot.

But I digress again to my main point.

Communication was gone and cast aside.

I tried to compensate and make excuses

To hide the growing pain within.

All I wanted, not needed, but wanted

Was a little reassurance that you felt

A little of what I did, do, always have.

It used to be there in your smile.

But the smiles, texts and emails are gone.

Because you just weren’t that into me.

I can’t say you didn’t care last year,

But we both know you can’t live for the past.

On your end, no one knew I existed.

I was the dirty little secret you kept

Secluded to dark streets, misty windows

And whispers of naughty thoughts in your head.

My end was tied up in hopes of fictional futures.

Everyone knew, but thought you were a figment

Of my imaginative hopes and dreams.

Not too good to be true, just nonexistent.

I look back and realize that, once again,

I was the side chick to something more important,

Rather than an addition to anything.

I was yet another complication with which to deal.

I saw the signs growing towards a dreadful fate,

Yet I held onto the slim chances that Love would win.

The Love that was shared and that which remains,

It still stands strong and refuses to fade.

You see, the Love is okay with existing on its own.

The Love doesn’t need to be a want or a need.

Love, in its purest form can stand strong and alone.

And yet and still, I am not Love; I just cling to it.

You didn’t need me,

I didn’t need you,

But in the end, all I wanted

Was to be wanted by Love.

Copyright ©2010 Natasha Guy

My Book!!!

Hi folks! I decided to promo me today! Yesterday I released my first book! Beautiful Fixation is a poetry collection that chronicles the formation and life of a female serial killer. Did I say Female Serial Killer? YES! Did I say...poetry?!?! YES! This book will revolutionize the way you see poetry today! Buy it directly from the site or message me at NatashaL.Guy@gmail.com to arrange a signed copy! Thanks to everyone who has supported me!!

Beautiful Fixation

It's amazing how two ppl can hear the same song yet create two very different masterpieces from the muse. While Ustreaming, MistressGem and I came across Cee-Lo Georgia Take a listen then come back....

Ok now that you've heard the muse.... read what came from it as it played.

Enjoy. *unity through poetry*

Olden Days
by Luvleeh Poetiklocks

Feeling the links of olden days

Dirt roads carry me back to the cotton fields of yesterday

And I link to my ancestral beat of their feet

As sacks filled with money they never received…

I smell the smoke of houses burning meat…

And I long for the taste of salted delicacies …

From my father’s home I am sitting on the porch… watching the slaves come from the basement

His home was apart of the underground train….

And I know my family held the caboose to the last running feet….

Jump from the track…. Onto the rail….

Freeing self… for northern living….

Longing to go back and get big mama from the big house… she’s cooking up a storm…

Enter the back door…

Kids roam…

Floured face… biscuits rising…

Making butter by the back step…

I see how rich I am…

My people built their wealth on the backs of opportunity….

Feet dancing… we parade the thought of freedom…

I live for unity…

Though my roots trace back to the inequalities of oppression…

Still I live on…

Change evolving the spirit within…

I live for love… and give to man…

For God showed me olden days…

And olden days are golden rays of my joy.

Voyage of Vibrations
by Poetess MistressGem

We both know our designated structured steps

But then the music strikes up something within,

The passion that drives the drummer of a different beat.

The beat varies as it hits deep for all of us,

Marching to the internal drummers that

Somehow all work like synchronized swimmers.

Down the mixed terrain trail we go.

Sometimes we stumble, sometimes we run,

But we are always keeping tempo with the movement.

Your movement compliments mine,

And as one ends another begins,

The extended line of catastrophic notes.

From one bar to the next, they follow each of us.

All on a different clef, but composed simultaneously.

Blend together making an orchestrated life.

Moving in and out of other's lives 

Bumping, partnering, avoiding.

Always impacting another.

Whether by chance or coincidence,

Unseen vibrations influence our auras.

Touch, tease, change the common atmosphere.

Dance with me

Dance against me.

Just make sure you dance.

Olden Days (c) 2010 Leandrea "Luvleeh Poetiklocks" Hill. All rights reserved.

Voyage of Vibrations (c) 2010 Natasha "MistressGem" Guy. All Rights reserved.


See more of Luvleeh Poetiklocks work at Poetik Rendezvous

More new stuff!

My Excuses

I’m mixed.

My father was black.

My mother is white.

I am the shade of gray

That I am.

I was an only child

Raised by a single mom

Until I became

The stepdaughter

That I am

I was an A student.

I hid in my studies

And pretended to be

A false portrayal of the person

That I am.

I was a victim of abuse.

Whatever people conclude from that

Rarely projects the image

Of the present aware being

That I am.

I was a fat kid.

I’m still a fat adult.

Folks call it fluffy, thick, chubby.

I call it fat and I know

That I am.

I was an unwed mother

Who became a married mother

Who became a divorced mother.

At this point, I’m happy

That I am.

I am disabled.

The tumor in my brain

Creates havoc that kills some.

I’m still living and glad

That I am.

Above all, I still worship

A God whose name is above all others

And He has always told me,

“No matter who you need, I am

THAT I am.”

So all of this

And none of this

Is exactly why

I am the way

That I am.

Copyright © 2010 Natasha Guy

New stuff!

Factual Fiction

We laid in bed together

And I loved him.

We spent time together

And I loved him.

We had dinner dates

And I loved him.

I dreamed about our future.

Through the hard times with his kids

I still loved him.

When his baby mama wasn’t actin’ right

I still loved him.

Even if we fussed and fought

I still loved him.

And I dreamt about our future.

For a year, I went on dreaming

And all the while I loved him.

For a year, he was my man

And all the while I loved him.

For a year he whispered sweet nothings

And all the while I loved him.

And I would dream about our future.

I know now that I was loving a kept man.

Your lover, husband, and your best friend.

I know now that he cheated on you with me.

But since you were hidden, I only had future thoughts of we.

See I didn’t know that baby mama was wife.

I never knew that our vacations were causing y’all strife.

I know you’re upset cuz I helped him cheat on you.

But see, I thought that our love really was true.

So, I know now that y’all are married, true,

But I feel like he cheated on me too!

And yes I am definitely gone; I’m through.

But my heat has yet to really leave ole dude.

So yeah, to you, I’m the other woman,

The mistress on the creep.

But to me you are the one that plunged

A knife in MY heart deep.

Now, had I been your girl or your fam,

That would have been another story.

But I’m already carrying your stepchild

And I don’t need to go on Maury.

Now if you choose to keep him around,

Don’t worry, I don’t do drama.

But I’m letting you know up front,

In four months I’ll be the baby mama.

From now on when you see the stub from his paycheck,

Expect to see that deduction, cuz this child will collect.

Soon you may look back and realize,

That we both thought we were number one.

And other than that little reminder,

I guess my letter to you is done.

To: Wifey

From: The Side Piece

Copyright © 2010 Natasha Guy

Copyright © 2010 Natasha Guy

Few Thoughts On God *gasp*

I know, I know, I rarely do the "religion thing," but I've got some things I wanna say and it's my blog...so yeah =) LOL. I originally titled this "Who Is Your God?" however, I think that is a question you may want to ask yourself...it's not really my biz! Without further delay, on to the thoughts!

A friend of mine, whom I love dearly, startled me recently. We sat on the phone discussing the events since we last spoke. We laughed, joked, and listened with our hearts. I love him and have always wanted the best for him...for him to have peace and contentment. Towards the end of our conversation, he reluctantly added something to our catch-up session. He slowly revealed, "I don't think I believe in God anymore." After recovering from the severity of his proclamation, I asked why. His complicated answer, in general terms, was because God, as he knew Him, doesn't accept him.

Since this conversation happened just over a week ago, obviously I am still somewhat disturbed. It's not necessarily his statement that bothers me so much, but the state of affairs that led him to make it. It irritates my inner core to know and view what passes for "Christianity" these days. Now, before I go in any deeper, of course I've been aggravated by the whole "Bishop Eddie Long issue." So, I'm sure that has colored my beliefs and ideas a little brighter than before, but at best, the situation only enhanced my previously formed views. *waits for you to ask, "What are those views?"* Well, I'm glad you asked!

Going back to my friend's statement, paraphrased: "I don't believe in "God" because "God" wouldn't accept me." So many alarms go off when I hear things like this. Now, because my beliefs are my own and shaped by my own life, they are not up for debate. No one has to agree with me. Just because you don't believe, doesn't mean it isn't true for me. Likewise, just because I don't subscribe to your truth, doesn't make it less true for you either. However, I digress to my original train of thought. I believe that religion consists of the rules that set boundaries for our personal spirituality, aka personal relationship and/or beliefs concerning God. Very frequently, when discussing religion/spirituality, one will hear me saying, "I am not religious, but I am spiritual." Now, this is not how I was raised to believe, but it is how me and my God make our relationship work.

It's part of growing up and maturing in your spiritual walk. You see, the rejecting God of which my friend spoke, was the God of his peers, family and his youth. That God was the one he was told about versus the God he had experienced and with whom he had formed a relationship. I surmised that he was, "Throwing out the baby with the bathwater." I guess, I have a different thought process from the "typical Christian." From what I've read, interpreted, and studied, even God supports free will. He may not agree with the decision you make, but He supports your right to make it. My great commission is to spread the gospel, not to force feed misguided ideas and bondage to reluctant and fearful innocents. I think that the key is being able to say, "I don't know, but I know what worked for me." It's as simple as that; share knowledge, don't enlist followers.

With God as a father figure, we are viewed as His children. How many of us relate to our parents the exact same way our brothers and/or sisters do? How many of us have identical relationships with all of our children? The point is just that; we don't! The dynamics of every relationship is based upon the two beings within it. Since no two beings are the same, no relationship is the same. I apply the same train of thought to the individual relationships that exist between ourselves and God. It severely outrages me that anyone would look at someone else's relationship with his or her own personal God and deem it invalid. Obviously, I'm truly irritated that anyone would have the audacity to dictate and micro-manage someone else's spiritual life.

I'm not one-sided about this either. Some of us give that role to others, thus relinquishing our personal connections with God to a spiritual leader for management. We then, forfeit the direct relationship with God for a subordinate relationship with a fellow human. If and when that happens, it creates a situation where that human then assumes a God-like position in our life while still having human fallibilities. Stuff like that causes problems seen in the allegations concerning Bishop Eddie Long.

All this to say, your relationship with your God is just that, YOURS! There's nothing wrong with spiritual guidance and, in fact, I encourage it. Just remember that in the end, it's guidance from someone else's play book and sometimes you need a few secret plays of your own. As always, I leave you with things to think about: your relationship, or lack thereof, with your God; accepting self so that you can be honest with God; and finally, the closer you get to God the closer you are to grasping immortal love.


Copyright © 2010 Natasha Guy

New Little Ditties

~~Like flint rocks

We strike each other with purpose

Creating the sparks

That ignite eternal flames

~~Dreams as fine as silk

Stored away out of reach

You took them and made a gown

Now it’s like my second skin

~~Withered relationships

Made fertile ground

For growth, necessary

To bear the fruit

That provides nourishment for him

~~No need to wish on airplanes

No need to wish on gasses aflame

My prayers have already been answered

~~If I had a magic lamp

I’d rub it & ask for an immortal Love

Since I’ve already got u

I dont want too much of a good thing
Copyright © 2010 Natasha Guy

Thoughts on Love

These are just a few more thoughts on this thing we call Love:

Learn to Love with no expectations. Don't Love for what you get out of it, or what you may get back in return. Love so that he or she knows without a doubt that, at one point, he/she has been loved! Don't always expect Love to come to you from the same place you planted it. Love is cyclical, however not always direct!

Are you a Loving person? Then start with giving Love to yourself as much as you will ever need. That way, if you don't feel that Love is coming your way, your Love level will be continually full. Don't base the Love of self, on how much Love others shovel your way. You want to expect Love from someone else, but don't expect from him or her what you do not expect of yourself! Self Love, then spread it! Do not give away what you cannot afford to lose!

So many times I hear, "But I NEED him/her." How much better would it feel to know that the person who Loves you, Loves you because they CHOOSE to and not out of necessity? I personally do not want that kind of Love. I want to receive Love because someone cares enough about me to make sure that I know I am Loved, not because they need my Love in return! Until I reach that place, I have all the Love that I need when I look into the mirror!


Copyright © 2010 Natasha Guy

Way Back When

When I was a new poet,

I was a poet and didn’t know it.

It’s not that the words didn’t come from my heart,

I just look back now and see I had a rough start.

When I was a black poet,

I was proud and let everyone know it!

I wrote in slang with one fist in the air,

I was abrasive and took on every glare.

When I was a female poet,

I wrote in pheromones and boy did all the men know it!

It was like the words dripped from my hips,

And I had honey suckled seductive lips.

When I was a bright skinned poet,

My skin tone didn’t define me and I let everyone know it!

The color of my skin was just a peek

At who I was; strong, yet meek.

But now, I have evolved into THAT poet!

The poet you know as Mistress Gem or RzrTonguedPoet.

The one that smiles with a soft voice, while ripping a subject to shreds.

I am the evolving poet turning heads.

I am THAT poet.

The one that is humble,

Yet knows her worth;

And doesn’t mind her bare toes touching the earth.

I am THAT poet.

That still uses strong verbage and voice.

From time to time I take a revolutionary stand,

And try to educate; get others to understand.

All in all this is just another piece.

For whomever to hear while passing by on the streets.

Because whether you really hear me or not,

You took my words in, and I gave you what you got!

Copyright ©2010 Natasha Guy

Desert Life

Barren Determination

I wage war against the dunes

Like cacti with legs in search of a mirage,

Drinking the destitute waste of the sun's wrath

As if it were my last chance at salvation.

Each sinking step into glassy granules

Absorbs the pain of tiny particles

Each doing their part to scrape away dead skin

Caked on bare mistreated feet.

All is sacrificed when searching for love.

Copyright © 2010 Natasha Guy

Music video by Eminem performing Love The Way You Lie. © 2010 Aftermath Records




My Take
I don't wanna wish on an airplane;
I want the people involved to do what has to be, should be, needs to be done.
I like to play with fire and apparently I like the pain it brings too
Because I continue to do it.
I hate the feeling,
But because it's all I know,
It's like comfort food that's killing the morbidly obese.
I OD on the pain that loving you brings.
Copyright © 2010 Natasha Guy (poem)

All That Is Within Me

Every piece that flows

Is inked from blood, sweat and tears,

Exposing something inside with each line.

The metronome of my heart beat

Is what keeps the rhythm in my head.

It is not a superfluous continuation of multiple expectations

Thrust upon me by those who choose to be cynical

Naysayers and gossip hounds sniffing ‘round for a bone.

This is not simply my life’s work on display.

It.Is.My.Life.

My thriving fortitude

Is humbly offered for

The greedy consumption

Of my salivating bedmates

As we undulate in common rivers

Trying to make sense of the obscene.

When beauty is prostrate

Within the words gathered on the page,

Those are my ever living

Dreams and visions

Stretched out, not for judgment,

But for escape from suffocation.

Copyright © 2010 Natasha Guy

My Steady Lover

At every turn in my life

You are there to cradle me.

When I get mad and fight,

You patiently wait for my anger to subside.

You know every nook and cranny

Of my spirit and soul.

In some way or another,

You’ve been there since the beginning.

I’ve impatiently begged you to speed.

I’ve even been subjected to your constant  pace.

You neither sped up nor slowed down.

You have always been exactly who you are.

I’ve intertwined my limbs with yours.

Your arms have yet to fail me.

When tears run like rivers down my cheeks,

You lay my head in your lap for comfort.

You never made a promise that’s been broken.

Every day I’ve truly awakened has been with you.

We have that immortal bond, you and I.

It passes the ages, emotions and miles.

You are never more than a blink away.

Only a love felt so deep, like ours,

Can waiver on that line of love and hate.

Always strong, on whichever side it lands.

I’ve never been without a dance partner.

I never had to stare at an empty bed.

I could be lost in the Sahara

And still, your being would envelop me.

I’ve heard tales of a love like ours,

This one that even the movies envy.

So this is an ode to the only one

Who has always asked to dance with me.

Even when I want to sit this one out,

My lover supports my weight and pulls

On me to stand for yet another twirl with

A boy named Change.

Copyright © 2010 Natasha Guy

I hope that at one point in time someone, anyone understands.

Summer time!

The Dry Swimsuit

It hangs in the closet,

Shrunken from the process.

It will fit when I put it on again.

Maybe I should lose some…wait, I digress.

It’s sitting there staring at me,

Mocking me from the closet;

From the tiny corners of my mind,

Taunting me to call a forfeit.

I’m determined to get into it again.

I remember the last time like it was yesterday.

I swam in a pool of luxury.

I was confident in my play.

Then the Life Guard came around the corner,

He said, “That’s enough play for you.”

I reluctantly got out of the pool.

When I’d swim again, I had no clue.

I had been evicted from romance and love.

The Life Guard said I was having too much fun.

I cried as I hung my swimsuit out to dry.

But there was no point; my swim time was done.

I watched as it dripped dry,

My memories pooling on the floor.

They too chided me,

Singing, “This love is no more.”

So my swimsuit awaits another chance,

To jump in the deep end of the pool of romance.

Copyright ©2010 Natasha Guy

Repost

Ok...repost, cuz this is how i feel...again...

The Beginning of the End

Can you hear that sound? Or the lack thereof?

Its my heart coming to a stop, as it recognizes what lies ahead.

Its the initial prick that becomes a fine line that gives way to a rip

In the wall of my heart.

A small unmistakeable poke, the crack that weakens the dam.

My emotions, my love, my very being starts to leak

Eventually it gushes, leaving me next to empty.

All of it poured out chasing after you

As you walked away.

Copyright © 2009 Natasha Guy

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A night to remember

Tonight, I had to let go of hopes and dreams that I'd built because I was the only one that drew up the blueprints. Like sand in the wind I had to watch them fly away and stop trying to fruitlessly hold onto them. My heart will remain where it is, but I acknowledge that it stands there alone. Tonight I made peace with that. Take care of yourself until our paths meet again sir.

Copyright © 2010 Natasha Guy

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This song here. Finally found THAT song. Yup. And I'm not even a Drake fan, but this is perfect.

Apologies of a Phoenix

I didn’t even know what I was at first;
Wanted to be like everyone else;
Didn’t want to shine.

I tried clipping my wings.
I dimmed my lights.
I even tried to hide.

I didn’t take kindly to mirrors.
If I couldn’t see,
Maybe others wouldn’t either.

The blind was walking;
And as an unforeseen result,
I bumped into even more people.

I did all I could to shrink myself.
But I still felt like the elephant in the room
With a mouse hot on its tail.

As I was trying to think myself small,
I had missed what others were doing.
Some ignored me, but the others…

My invisible wishes had not been heard.
A few decided to smile at me anyway,
And others tried to set me on fire.

I didn’t notice until I smelled burning flesh.
I was horrified that anyone would do that!
Then, I was sure I would die.

Ashes to ashes
And dust to dust.
I knew that I was going down.

The fire starters smirked
And they squirted extra lighter fluid.
At least I burned a pretty hued descent.

My pile of ashes laid at their feet.
They lost interest and walked away.
My remains still held a bit of shimmer.

No one tended the ashes.
Very few mourned the loss.
Others never noticed my absence.

Then, even in my cinder state,
There was something about my
Existence that screamed.

My pitch pulled at
Surrounding ears
And some still took no interest.

As my shrill reached
The upper octaves,
More and more people gathered.

The furious arsonists
Clamored through the growing crowd
To see what was happening.

Instantaneously, I soared.
From the ashes and contempt,
I not only flourished, but was reborn.

My destruction at the hands of
The tormentors had cultivated
A creature that they had only heard of.

I was now able to rise
Above the venomous claws
As they shaded their eyes.

Some took refuge from the
Expected revenge sure to fall.
The skies filled thick with screeching.

Once again misunderstood.
It was not sorrow or terror vibrating in the air,
But soul filled laughter and freedom resounding.

New found purpose and realization
Ignited from ash only
Brought about by a painful death.

If anyone below spoke the
Language of the flying
Fire bird, then they heard my song:

I found freedom in
The confines of my wings.
My prison cell, they only appeared to be.

You see, my prison bars
They were bones.
Numerous to make strong wings.

The curtains that kept out the sun,
Those were my feathers.
Thick, so that I could ride the wind.

My hard shelled beak
That was unable to kiss like soft flesh,
It now houses my song’s volume.

My small beady, darting eyes of mistrust,
They, now, can keenly focus while
I cruise the unseen currents.

It was simply my perception
That did not allow me to
Be who I was created to be.

I say, “I’m sorry,” to the fire starters.
Had I known that you were wasting it,
I would have saved your lighter fluid.

Well, it was a waste for you.
But I’ll thank you arsonists too.
Without you, I could not rebirth.

To all those who were waiting,
I am deeply sorry
That it took this long.

To those looking on
As if I’m personally offending,
I’m sorry you feel that way.

However…

I will not apologize
For outshining the
Sun in your sky.

I will not apologize
For my wing span
Spreading wider either.

How about you stop
Comparing you to me
And me to you?

Are you even a phoenix?
Maybe you are an eagle
Or perhaps a bluejay.

Yes, we all are birds.
But I won’t apologize
For being different than you.

Sometimes the parts that make me
Unmistakably me
Ruin the experience for others.

I exist only as I
Know that I can.
And I won’t apologize for being me.

Copyright ©2010 Natasha Guy

Sometimes My Mind Goes There...

Today

I wanted to reach out today.

Then remembered you weren’t there.

Funny how the always in

“I’ll always be there,”

Disappears along with Forever.

The location of “there” changes too.

They all shift to be someone else’s

“Always there, Forever.”

But, that’s life for you.

Your train keeps chugging along.

As the scenery changes,

The passengers change;

Even the track changes.

Some trains get better engines,

Even a shiny new  caboose;

Eventually, it all changes.

But, you know what I’ll remember?

The tiniest bit of graffiti

That somehow never gets erased.

Do you remember when and where?

Do you remember how it got there?

Yeah…I didn’t think you would.

Copyright ©2010 Natasha Guy

Sand

When you leave the beach,

It finds its way into life.

Your hair, car, bathing suit.

It carries with it the smells

Of the ocean.

On a playground,

It is more functional

Than a memory.

It still comes with you,

In your hair, shoes, clothes.

Then in the hourglass,

It all comes together

And makes sense.

The kind of rationale

That makes you lose your mind.

In an hourglass

It is functional.

Though each grain

Represents a memory

As well.

If I chose a grain

From the bottom

Of your personal

Hourglass. Could

You tell me of the day?

The day you met her,

Do you remember that one?

The moment you decided,

When was that?

The second everything changed.

Does any other grain

Matter as much as the

Other?

The last time you had peace,

Is it more valuable than turmoil?

Does the coned pile in the bottom

Weigh more than the ever

Dwindling top?

Which section do you value

More?

Do you realize that the

Top and bottom do not

Equal all?

There will always be the few

Grains stuck in descent.

Will you remember to

Assign these grains value?

Or will they slip through

Unnoticed

As you count the others?

A single grain of sand

Can tip the favor scales.

That single grain

Can also be your last.

So spend your grains wisely.

I still have a few

That I’m waiting

On to drop.

But I won’t miss

Those on their way down.

From the grains in motion

I seek to remove

Items from my

Bucket List.

You were one of them.

Copyright ©2010 Natasha Guy

Walk With Me

The Path

Love

Attraction

Lust

Friendship

Caring

Tears

Sweat

Denial

Resistance

Growth

Execution

Choices

Need

Want

Desire

Correction

Adjustment

Embarrassment

Surprise

Confusion

Struggle

Pain

Alcohol

Celebration

Exhaustion

Guilt

Emptiness

Sadness

Desperation

All of this

Led to our

Demise.

Each was

A stepping

Stone to

The

Dead End.

Copyright ©2010 Natasha Guy