Fool

Feeling like a fool because I cannot control
The dull, shaking razor I hold to my soul

Standing above the overflowing sink
I wipe the steamed mirror as I hold on the brink

Cut the hair, but not the skin
Hold back blood and shave on a grin

Smiles are money that buy you a life
But honesty is the sharpened knife

You may die quick, but you’ll die free
I’d rather go now than fake what I’ll be

The only thing that slips away
Is the person you thought you had to play

Kill that, Darling. Twist the blade.
You will only sleep in the bed you’ve made.

Be your own person. Live your own choice.
Write your name in the fog and raise that cutting voice.

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Model Behavior

gangly legs dangle
hanging at strange angles
new-fangled angels
spangled and strangled
littered with bangles
privileged with physical advantage
yet starving for life without baggage
damaged and ravaged
mangled and managed
with makeshift bandages
wrangle your courage
disentangle this bondage
dissolve this marriage
to branded, handled beauty

Tough as Nails

Here’s an old inking of nails that I did in drawing class at college. They were galvanized nails on a strip. I hate drawing, but I love to ink.


Drag those nails
Across my back.
Pound them in.
I can take your attack.

When you are done,
I’ll treat the pain.
I’ll save the nails
For a day with rain.

Later on, you’ll see.
Those nails? I use.
To build my empire.
Your abuse–my muse.

Where the Gutter Ends

This is an old inking of a guttering bend I did for drawing class in college. Does it look like that? LOL A poem for the gutter.


It’s altogether different from
Where the gutter bends
All the way down to
Where the gutter ends.

When you get to the bottom
There’s no place but higher.
You’re among the garbage,
But not for long, my Flyer.

It’s okay to be down.
It teaches you how to stand.
It teaches you to be strong.
How to accept someone’s hand.

Swallow your pride.
Pull on your boots.
Plant those feet.
Let your heels dig roots.

Believe in what you do.
Or don’t do a thing.
If you have a voice?
Open your mouth and sing!

Float from the gutter
To reveal your mystery.
Let the world listen to
Your hard-to-hear (hard-to-tell) history.

The Best

If you’re a llama?
Be the best llama you know.
Sorry, Non-llamas.


If you can’t be a llama, be the best version of yourself today. Or at least be a little better than yesterday–in understanding, patience or kindness. That’s what all these tomorrows are for.

Drawing credit: Jimmy King (dad)

I’m No Angel

Print
Angel wings and halos
Aren’t always what they seem.
Perfect teeth and tits
Are nothing but a dream.

This body gave life.
This belly gave birth.
This face has laughed.
These hands do work.

My breasts have fed
A tiny baby girl.
This mind has created
a from-scratch, new-found world.

I wouldn’t really try
To change a bleeding thing.
After finding my own voice?
I’m totally gonna sing.

Why not?
So what?
Wear
Think
Do
Say
Go after
Pull down
The things you want.
No one cares.
No one stares!

And if they do?
Chalk it up to hate.
They’ll have to answer for that
Portion on their plate.

I’m too busy living life to wonder what small-minded people think
about this big-hearted person.

HEEEY! *snap* bye. *flap, flap, flap*


YOU! bettah. work!

Growing Doubt

If you’re going to plant something, make it your:
Feet.
Humility.
Kindness.
Reliance on God.

Don’t plant doubt. Doubt is a weed.
Grows fast and takes over everything.
No fruit or flowers can grow
With doubt around.

Doubt will have your well-maintained yard of confidence
Looking like:
A Jungle. Chaos. Hell.
In no time.

Who’s the:
Constant Gardener?
Lily-tender?
Bird-feeder?
Weed-killer?

God
Jesus
Holy Spirit

Doubt is like poison ivy:
Invasive.
Creeping.
Starts an itch that can’t be satisfied.

Once doubt takes over, I can’t stop it.
I’d have to burn my whole house down
To the ground
To beat it.

Scorched earth.
Have no worth.
I steal my mirth
With a Confidence dearth.

I can’t keep this yard on my own. Ask for help.
I’m an inexperienced novice with no skills.
No one ever taught me how to be awesome.
Everyone only reminded me of fear and failure.

God’s been doing this since the beginning of time.
OG-Original Gardener.
So pay attention.
Leave intention.

Oh, Petal. Doubt has no place
In a garden of self-esteem and worth.
Stop tearing up this dirt, sweating over the hurt.
Stop watering negativity with tears, bitterness, and concern.

We were made to blossom and thrive, Buttercup.
Don’t worry, Late-Bloomer.
Every plant has its cycle. Be patient.
Sometimes, the most rare flowers take the longest.

My value and worth aren’t earned.
Or learned.
They. Are. Inherited.
Passed down from my Father.

Genetic. Kinetic. Poetic. Prophetic.

No one can take it away.
No one. Not even myself.
Unless I give permission.
So how can I doubt that, Tulip?