Thing 1 & 2

Osun (Giseli Magalhães)

Osun [Giseli Magalhães]

Thing 1 was not thirsty,
but I offered him a drink.
He drank till my cup was empty
and threw me in me to sink.

I struggled back to shore,
you can bet that I was sore,
but Thing 2 grabbed me by my finger,
and told me his intentions were pure.

The river of love is full again,
the river of love is me,
but Thing 2 is still famished,
’cause my cup was smashed at sea.

So tell me, ìyá mi ‘Kojú,
help me make my strength from you. 
How do you tell yourself that Thing 1
is everything but nothing like Thing 2?

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Chiron-ke

Yusuf Grillo

Painted by Yusuf Grillo

I want love.
I ask for love,
but when Mother Earth offers it to me,
I shake my head from side to side.

You may think of me as a child,
and you may think of me as a pregnant lady,
but I see myself as pregnant,
not as a child who does not
know what they are doing.

I am in pain.
I am pregnant.
I bear and carry my hurt
like an unborn child
in my heart’s womb.

No one can deliver this child;
no one except me.
No one but me
can deliver my self,
but I don’t know how to,
or is it that I don’t want to?

I can’t.  

I’m a pregnant midwife
who delivers people’s pain-children
but walks around with her own
still-born still in her.

No one but me
can deliver my self,
but I don’t know how,
or is it that I don’t want to?

I can’t. 

You may think of me as a child,
and you may think of me as a pregnant lady,
but I’d prefer it if you
do not think of me at all.

 

Hello, Ma!

Family

“Hello, ma.”
“We think of you as a foolish girl.”
“Helloo, ma.”
“Plus, we do not like you very well.”
“Hi, ma.”
“Hello, ma!”
But if we pretend, you’ll never tell.
“Hello, ma.”
Listen to the silent ways we yell.
“Helloo, ma.”
“Have a seat in this fake-love cell.”
“Hi, ma.”
“Hello, ma!”
“And welcome, to Hell.”

My Only Regret

a_bird_in_a_cage_by_sebowebo-d5esu3r

The only regret that I have
is having regrets-
regretting things that I had
not even attempted yet,
hating myself for making mistakes,
for not being able to change
the things that I couldn’t,
thinking that things end because
they should never have been,
killing myself for wanting to live.

En dehors de ce regret,
je ne regrette rien.

Venus in “Deadtrograde”

A plate of pain keeps
the potential heartbreaker away.
Two glasses of my old tears daily
will help me not go astray.
I am strong and I need no one’s attention,
but I want to be desired,
and I want affection,
but I was hurt,
I don’t want a repetition,
but I want love,
and I can feel the tension.

I don’t cry.
I don’t cry anymore because
there’s a pool of my tears
in my heart,
and I like to swim in it,
or go down, down, down,
and drown,
when a potential One
comes too close
to my feelings’ flat.
If anyone is to decide when I drown,
it has to be me, myself and I.
Would you give another potential
pretentious,
manipulative
dingbat
a chance to decide when you die?

Six planets are in retrograde
in my natal chart,
and venus used to be one of them,
but she’s not anymore.
My venus is dead;
a man has stabbed my sickly venus to death.

You’re My Love

If love had a taste,
it would taste like you.
If love had a smell,
it would smell like you.
If love could smile,
it would, like you.
If love could laugh,
it would, like you.
If love could cry,
it would, like you.
The shape of your eyes
is the shape of love.
I love you because
you are Love;
my heart chose you.

You’re My Home

I breathe easier when I think of you.
I feel better when I talk to you.
I beam all day when I dream of you.
I find refuge and strength in you.

Out of Reach

The stars have remained special
because they live in the sky,
far away from our touch.
If they lived in the sand,
we would mistreat them 
and kick them around,
and they would mean nothing to us-
nothing more than mere stones.
We would get too used to them,
and we would not appreciate them.

I should have stayed out of your reach.

Unre-QUIT-ed IX

Love is a Cave:
I am in love,
but I am in it alone,
I am not in love with you,
and it hurts me to the soul
each time you remind me
that I am in love,
but you are not in it with me.

A Damn Mess

I was licking my wounds
but you stopped me.
You wanted to do it
so I let you.
You licked and sucked till
my wounds became scars.
Then, you cut me again
at the exact same spots.

So, here I am, a damn mess,
studying our synastry chart
for the 50th time,
fiddling with tarot cards,
tiredlessly hoping you’d come back.
I want your tongue and yours alone,
and I know that even if you return,
you would lick me up
so you can cut me again.