Runaway Girl

At 13 I ran away

I ran into bushes and watched my mom cry as she called my name.

I just sat there.

I came home a week later and everyone pretended like nothing happened.

I feel like I’m 13 sometimes.

‘Til the Blood Runs

When the walls collapse all around you,

And you can’t hold up all sides,

Hold up one side and let the rest collapse,

Hold down the foundation,

Let the rest fall,

And start over.

Fall hard,

But this time let the pain in,

The blood will run

Slow like molasses,

This time don’t lick it and swallow it up,

Let it drip and stain your floor,

So everyone can see,

When they bite,

You bleed

You hurt,

You are not invincible,

And you can be destroyed.

Start again,

Naked,

With no armor,

No weapon,

But be with love,

Come with love,

Be with love,

And start again.

#365daysofyogapoetry

Alone, but not Lonely

She lay in bed

Naked,

Remembering her day as she stroked her hairless mons.

Debating if she should go down deeper,

Or just go to sleep.

But she felt restless

Like most nights,

And self soothed herself

In hopes of deep sleep,

As if she were with her lover.

Red Bird, Red Earth

Red Bird, Red Earth

Arise again from the ashes

Emerging from the ground up,

Hands in the earth,

There’s still mud,

There’s still mud,

And some shit too,

Some my own,

Some another’s,

The difference is

I can see it,

I can smell it,

But instead of stepping around it,

I’m putting it in a shit bag and throwing it out.

Cleaning space

Making space,

Being in space

And still keeping ground.

#365daysofyogapoetry

Bow Down

I bow

I surrender to the call

Bowing deep down to you,

And you and you and you….

I am here

Drawing power from the divine

To serve and heal,

With My heart to earth

Belly of fire rising

Ablaze

Playing your body like an instrument,

Drawing out your pain

I as a conduit,

And spitting it out

Back to the earth,

So that power become pure

Again,

And you,

Oh and you and you and you,

Standing in your strength

Again.

Ready to serve your own call.

#365daysofyogapoetry

He says, “Boom Chicka Boom”

The sand sprinkling across my

Legs and my thighs

Makes me feel alive

Like pindrops

But soft

Gentle

Scattered splatters

Make me feel alive.

Oooooh

He says a boom chicka boom

That cycles

On my mind

A boom chicka boom

Nostalgia

On my mind,

A boom chicka boom

Makes me feel aliiiiive.

Tiny Feet with Big Feats

Tiny Feet with Big Feats

Find me with my woes,

Standing tall

though on my toes,

Born a bit mini

With mighty dreams,

Watch me stretch myself reaching for the peaks

Until my feet lift,

Roots free to drift,

Resilient from Gods gift

To bring me to the zenith,

With tiny fingers and tiny feet,

Embracing grand feats

With an open heart and

beatific poetry.

The Hang Man

The Hang Man

I’m the hang man,

In repose.

Surrendered to what draws me

close to them.

The flight and fall feel fine

My float is fly.

My head Down low

But the space within so high,

I can just go.

And I’d be sum shanti,

Aum shanti, aum shanti,

I’d go in peace.

Circus Show

Find me in cages

Like an animal

Pushing against bars

Trying to set myself free,

And you,

A voyeur

Taking delight in my struggle

While I fight through rages,

Then surrender and fold

As I see you,

An Amused smile perched upon your lips,

And a hand fumbling softly in yourpockets,

Watch me

Your own private circus show.

#365daysofyogapoetry