
Poetry is whispered prayers
that would otherwise be silent
-gws

Poetry is whispered prayers
that would otherwise be silent
-gws

America
What has happened to you?
I used to look at you and see a prismatic array of culture and color shining in the light of the American Dream
Facets of myself and those I love reflected in you
Something erupted from your shadows
Dark, scared and desperate
Eclipsing your torchlight of hope and promise
Something so terrified of Its obsoletion, It would rather see you burn than cede the power It stole to those It stole from
Something willing to sacrifice the kaleidoscope of colors and culture that alchemize in the magic of your melting pot on the alters of greed and privilege
Something that wars against the Divine Feminine ascending into her full power
It claims white as its color with all the implications there of while stoking the red flames of righteous indignation and entitlement over those who are “other” beneath your blue-sky dream of a country of immigrants as equals
It so easily forgets that It was not native to your soil
America
All that you were made from
All that you were made for is under siege
Its fear of the dying of the light at the end of Its era has made It desperate and so destructively dangerous
I’ve heard that the ending of the time of Power Over is upon us
Beware Its rageful final moments as It has no intention of going quietly
America
The huddled masses are here for you
Despite our trauma from Its constant abuse
Its gaslighting
Its imposed cognitive dissonance
We are not ready to give up on you
We are tired
We are scared
But you are the land of the free
And we will be brave as we fight to save the grande and noble experiment that is you
-gws

Poetry is manifesting wings
so feelings can fly free
-gws

Poetry is art born from the
skillful sculpting of words
-gws

Poetry is reclaiming the voice
from fear, doubt, and shame
-gws

Poetry is triage for the
open wounds of trauma
-gws

I stabbed the fuck out of your couch
‘Cause I was tired of your mouth
It was always telling lies
All backtracking and denials
I drank up a fifth instead
To drown the demons in my head
First I screamed and then I cried
At how you betrayed your bride
I stabbed the fuck out of your couch
‘Cause I was tired of your mouth
It was always telling lies
All backtracking and denials
Oh yeah, my rage was quite obscene
No tears could ease the wicked sting
Its brown leather old and scarred
The choice wasn’t all that hard
I stabbed the fuck out of your couch
‘Cause I was tired of your mouth
It was always telling lies
All backtracking and denials
So I plunged the blade right in
Then I repeated it again
Better the couch than it was you
It was the worst that I could do
I stabbed the fuck out of your couch
‘Cause I was tired of your mouth
It was always telling lies
I’m out the door now, no goodbye
-gws

Poetry is the screaming
ache of the breaking heart
-gws

I ignite
The brush of your lips upon my neck
The reverberating purr rumbling deep in your chest as you press against me
The grip of your fingers tangling in my hair
Each sensation its own spectacular pyrotechnic show within me
The heat of your breath on my throat
The tension in your arms as you pull me into you
As if any room between us is too much
My lips swell from our eager, crushing kissing
Goosebumps pebble every inch of my too-hot skin
Sparked into existence by your exploring fingertips
My hands gripping your arms
Your hair
Your back
Your hips
My nails sometimes teasing
Sometimes scratching as I surrender to this tempest of desire
Sighs and moans
Gasps and groans
Hunger and need
Primal and demanding our surrender to it and each other
I have no desire to resist
Neither do you seem to
We are wonder and fire
Surrendering to this conflagration
As we quest to find in this consuming bliss
The evocation of when our essence
blazed as brightly as stars
-gws

Poetry is salve for the
philosopher’s soul
-gws