Don’t Say Ain’t

Lithograph from erased highlight charcoal self-portrait, 2010–Martha Maggio
Ain’t nobody gonna love you like God, your mama, or you.
And ain’t nobody gonna love you ’til you do.–Martha Maggio


Walk in the room
Automatically assume
No one could ever love you

Why can’t you accept
That body they reject
Is just a vehicle for truth

The truth is–
Your beauty doesn’t come from:
A jar.
Your hair.
A great pair of: eyes, boobs, legs, shoes.
The end of a knife.

Your value is eternal, divine
Twinkle in God’s eyeshine
Not for everyone.

You are–
Far, far away from long, long ago
From freaking outer space.

So act like an alien and conquer the earth.


Or just love yourself from this rebirth.

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Whispered Words

My prayers are but whispered words
From a yearning, desperate, fallible heart.

Mist between tall hills.
Breath between pangs.

Yet any power they possess
Does not rest on my small human capacity.

They are gathered by an eternal hand
That has raised mountains and stirred oceans.

Solar

You can’t extinguish the sun
With any amount of rain
This sun’s on fire
Eternal lasting flame

If you tried to put out this star
With water from all the oceans
I would just burn brighter
With hydrogen explosions

I can’t stop shining
I was born to do it
I’ll decide when my time has come
I’m the one going through it

Stars come and go
Born and eventual collapse
But how brilliant was I
Between that interlapse

I won’t always rise in the sky
Just simply enjoy the day
For now I haven’t found my night
In my perpetual decay

When I go you’ll know
It won’t be sad or grey
You’ll ride my waves, mark my graves
Worship my erupting display

I. AM. THE. SUN.
I awaken these dark worlds
Exhaust the cost to find what’s lost
And polish these old pearls

Kitchen Detail

Do you have an immaculate, pristine kitchen fit for Better Homes & Gardens magazine? Decked out with island and butler’s pantry?

Or do you have a tiny, functional galley kitchen like mine? Clean, but well-worn?

Or do you have a seething portal to hell with dirty dishes stacked to the ceiling? Crawling with ants? Sticky floors and counters? Mice squatting in the corners? Jelly smeared into a hardened shellac on the floor? <<–(that happened at my former friend’s house, my husband had to wash his sock out, gah!)

What kind of kitchen are you?? If you could equate your kitchen to a celebrity or personality, who/what would it be?

My Starlet

Same curly hair.
Same brilliant smile.
Same enormous heart.
But only tiny for a while.

You’re my little star.
I’m your big, shiny moon.
I’ll always be your Dish.
Run away with me, Spoon!

We belong together
Swinging out into space.
You’re my precious starlet
With the most beautiful face.

Love you, Lillian. You’re magical.


Picture of Lil when she was only 5 on the beach!

Eye of God

What if for a second
We merely supposed?
The galaxies in space
Are God’s mind exposed.

We finally have a picture.
Epic record we can see.
The mind map of God–
Light history.

universemap
See a similar map here.
light
Best Map Ever of the Universe
26A6568100000578-0-image-a-13_1426363862688
Does this look like the inside of a mind or body? It’s part of our known universe. Road Map

Swirling bright clusters
And exploding gas clouds.
Firing synapses
Appear in star-crowds.

Expanding chemicals
Racing through the brain.
Magnetic fields
Of electric rain.

Solar wind.
Asteroid belts.
Polar flares.
Rock that melts.

Endless black holes
Worming their way.
Tunneling and tumbling
Through a Kubrick ballet.

If the Universe is
The eternal God-Head,
We are cells broken/
Spoken from dead.

Four words are a Gun.
Let there be light.
Shot out *big bang*
His bullets bring life.

Twisted orange, purple threads
Make lightning-quick connections.
Worlds ignite through invisible wicks,
Catching fire in all directions.

Heavenly hosts
Beat their wings.
Angels rocket
And pluck their strings.

And as they play
Their creative tune,
Planets are framed,
Hung with a moon.

If God is the mind
Then the body–different worlds.
A collection of organs
Filtering systems like pearls.

Braid the planets together,
Necklace Space-time.
But we threaten to steal it
With crime Starfish Prime.

We. Are. Cancer.
We eat up space.
Nothing can win.
Everything’s a race.

If missiles are medicine,
If spaceships are pills,
Then we are poisoning the Universe
With the ills of our wills.

We only want to spread our brand of living to another surface. We are bacteria.

If we are cancer? Infection?
Then Jesus is the cure.
God sent his son
To make this Body pure.

Jesus Christ–
Pearl of great price.
Brilliant contribution,
Teleportation device.

Here instantly.
Gone the same way.
But remains in Spirit
Always to stay.

He is bright Sun.
He is absolute center.
He is the portal–
Challenging us to enter.

God/Universe/Love
Expands forever.
Kingdom come,
Endure and Endeavor.

If we can see the wonder
Of the inside of God’s mind,
We should:
Respect it.
Protect it.
Project it.
For all the universe to see.

He’s watching. Thank God.

th
Helix “Eye of God” Nebula

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another Planet

Where am I?
How’d I get here?
This is my worst nightmare–
My greatest fear.

Not just living once,
But experiencing twice
The excruciating anguish
Of my heart in a vise.

Broken homes.
Parents screaming.
Shattered lives.
Splinters gleaming.

I am kidnapped on the ship
That takes me back to Then.
I am rock-bound shipwrecked
Instantly on that When.

The initials on the side of my rocket are P-T-S-D.

Where’s my preserver?
Where’s my rope?
I’m already wrung, hung and dried.
There’s absolutely no hope.

Getting off of this horrible world?
No escape for me.
My map was tossed, pilot jumped clear,
The capsule crashed at sea.

I may never see home again.
I can sit, give up and die.
Or I can make my way back to you
And fashion a means to fly.

Find tools.
Bang out a space.
Write a manual.
Picture your face.

Soaring over the ice,
Breaking the gravity of Past.
Riding out the rocky belts,
To land by you at last.

I’m home.
Sorry I left.