Mother(The Time I Got Between)Earth
It has been so long, here,
Six feet underground,
But no, I am not at peace.
I would choose to stay
Where you put me,
Will you come back to place me elsewhere.
During these times,
The Sun and Moon were a fucking aggravation,
I laid when reluctantly admitting to Sleep’s nag,
Prayed, because sometimes, that is what you just do.
I was afraid,
When you, The Tangerine, rotted off
My Tree of Life, so suddenly.
Desperately, I needed to learn how to depend on myself.
Eventually, I did.
Throughout the process, though,
I encountered in battle,
Once again, The Struggle Within.
To where I self- tested and experimented with
Orgasmic pinnacles to pressurize every tender & callous feeling.
Dawn after dawn,
I bashed together loose clay
Collected from great depths in ponds of my thought,
Trying to sculpt something useful.
Shaded pencil marks of me will never return,
I color with crayons now,
I burn the wax to paper,
Convincing myself to remain
A Blue-Blooded, bold Jasper,
Wishing for rounded edges like new millennium cars.
Now, I am an adventure-
Merrily digging upwards through the dirt with bare, bloody fingers-
Amending my friendship with Sun, Moon, and Sleep-
Budding flowers on tips of branches, anticipating fruit sweeter than a Tangerines-
Preemptively bombarding The Struggle Within so it lacks will to flare-
Firing the kiln in anticipation to glaze my utilitarian ceramic-
Admiring every color just the same from red to indigo.
I am an 88’ Pontiac Safari and content with my jagged resemblance to a wooden box.