Sedimentation/By Tien Skye

via Sedimentation/ By: Tien Skye

ripe age of
an eight and a four
an age everyone
is more concerned
about my love life
than i will ever be

idea upon idea
impressed upon me
layers of expectations
domes of doom

wise words
cement into a cage
as gentle voices
voice demands

do i know what i want?
do they know what i want?


*I doubt that you can read the above and not feel its peacefulness even though the subject appears to be one that is of great sadness. Tien is great at this. I wanted to do a direct Reblog, but that option is not available via his blog. Please show him some love via the link above. Peace, beautiful people. 

Spinning

An Audio Poem

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Head of a Negro Boy|Alice Pike Barney

I am not the heart beating in his chest
no sense of calm can make the storm
raging in him subside.
I say that I know his pain,
but truly, do I?

Am I walking the same path?
He has his hands raised above his
head permanently, 
a shell of a soul,
residing in a body beaten from the
very earth that struck it into being
.

Dust upon dust,
dirt upon dirt.
He shows no form of mimicry —
an exhausted
engine chugging towards an unknown
destination
.

I am trying to learn about his
relentless past, 
how it hangs over him,
dangling like fresh meat.

He tells me that the damaging years
are far behind him and
I see truth glimmering in his eyes.

We all have our demons, our battles.
You are fighting yours. I am fighting mine.

Are you willing to win because
I have no time for another loss.”

The way he holds his mouth,
terrified of uttering the truth,
makes me love him even more.

Makes me realize that
he has groundwork to lay and
the foundation of us may have
to be placed on hold.

The spinning web we have
weaved holds no sustenance.
Everything caught, must be
released.


Originally published in P.S. I Love You via Medium.

Prepared

The Inevitable

funeralflower
Tushar Adhikari|Unsplash

Today, I prepared my Living Will & Testament. I had been meaning to draft this up for years, started it, and never finished, but today–it is done. I have all of the necessary mentions, made one of my best friends the Executor and both she and my mom as primary and secondary beneficiaries. Why one of my best friends and not my mom? We have discussed this, my Mom and I. Should I go before her, she is not what one would call a stable person emotionally. She would be too overwhelmed with sadness and grief and probably not the one to execute things accordingly. As grim as death is, in the event of the death of your child, plans still have to be made, funeral arrangements need to be completed, the gathering of souls and notifying them as well must be carried out and well… to be frank, she would not be able to get this done.

My best friend, on the other hand, handles things efficiently and does so in a way that many cannot. Plus, it will not be her first time dealing with death and dying and head-mastering the arrangements. I hate tasking either of them with this, but it must be done. Although I am what most would call young in age, death does not care about that. When I am called by God, I will be called and age will be the last thing on God’s mind. While diligently compiling the list of belongings and making sure Jernee will be cared for and loved when I am gone, I became a bit emotional myself. To think of one’s own death is quite macabre, however, as I stated earlier, this is necessary. I have had a number of peers die “untimely deaths,” and I am certain there will be more. It is not my intention to leave my family wondering what my wishes are nor is it my intention to leave them solely responsible for funding my homegoing.

The nearly three-page document lacks nothing. I went through it with a fine-toothed comb and I am pleased with every item bullet-pointed, including the want to be cremated and have my ashes relegated to my mother who may do what she likes with them at her discretion. I requested a small funeral–family and close friends only. I do not see a reason to have a mass gathering for the purpose of me leaving this earth. The more people at this event, the more my mom and best friend will have to deal with and I intend for their burdens to be light. They will have enough on their plates. Should my Mom go before me, I am the Executor and her primary beneficiary and I will adhere to her wishes as she has laid them out for me. The same goes for my best friend. We talk about these matters, better to do so than not be somewhat prepared.

The only thing left to do now is to obtain signatures and get the Notary Public at my credit union to notarize the document. I will try to accomplish this in the next week or two. I can let out a sigh of relief because after the fall in the shower, nearly two years ago, the one thing bleating in the back of my mind like an untamed billygoat is, “you need a Living Will. Get it done, Tre.”

And now, it is.

In Time

A Haibun

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Fresh Blossoms in February|Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

You fear a connection–the two of us, prone to falling before we should. It’s inevitable. In time, there will be wishes made to make us something we cannot become. I see it in your eyes, a glimmer of hope; a piece of understanding that things will probably turn out the way that they are meant to and not how we would like them to be. How odd, is it not? How love can stand in a pool of want and drain into a sea of forgetfulness… It is the manifestation of the elder mothers, wanting what is best for the girls who came after them, for their lineage to remain steadfast and strong enough not to break. But, we are cracking at the seams, splitting in two–two women yearning for affection when love stands in the air waiting for us to breathe it in. If only we had the strength to grab it and hold on. If only we could move out of the way, disappear to a place where minds remain open. If only we could…

I won’t deny it–
I am attracted to you
In time, love will win.