Unscrambled Eggs by Nadia Brown (red queen ebook txt) π
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- Author: Nadia Brown
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it was not maliciousness
that hastened you away
but truth
Farewell to inequity
as we have no use
for her degradation
her simpleton temper
she who befriends angst
plunder plates of men
rope the hands of those
who cross her passage
we rid ourselves of you
to them whom engender misfortune
we have no need
for their deprivation
their unrelenting manner
farewell to hardship
to the black crows of sorrow
to the grieving clouds
that brings about misery
I have left faith
to linger outdoors,
nailβpolish its name
from my fishbowl memory.
I grew bored
of reprising failure
and no longer accept
what mediocrity brings
as prominence needs more
than quiet dreamers
surpass all intent.
You frustrate me like rain
more than clouds ever will
often I feel like pencil gray longings
sketches of scruple paper
and you always let me know
I am not yet a hummingbird
not yet a fancy poet
but still the pretender
long away from perfect
You wore a hat and two China braids
combed your looks from poverty
it is obvious you are no cardboard girl
something about you sings confidence
and is perhaps misunderstood by the paper leaf world
that wraps your evenings
with dreams of being a writer
of knowing love
You seem beyond your fifteen years
quite older than the strawberry jam girl you are
but underneath your myth of make believe stars
you are like every one else
trying to figure their place to dam a need
along this stretch of creation
where days are no longer trusted
and nights donβt care much for anyone
The standard
rounds of fury
have since passed
gone are ire silences,
and stoic hearts
withered by
resentment
stifled screams
no longer
bickers in corners
of the room
gone are bitter
tensions
and unending piles
of complaints
frustration has now
ceased its war
waged on misery
gone are the days
of indifference
and sobering nights
with you
On this laundry mat of field
I am a gray autumn
torpid leaves collapsing in the eve
there looming amid quiet
is your peg of moon
an arcane of stars tilt their lanterns on your behalf
I saw you crammed night
into the belly of your suitcase
you hoarded its girth
as though it were yours
as if it belonged to you
when all I could gather
were your bones of dusk
You wore lavender sky
as I watched you coast to sunrise
taking all what youβve reaped
leaving just the blues
and the agony it unfurls
My Crayola lips,
plum of eyes, cello of body
are sick with need.
It rains like memory;
and the orchids have begun to lose
their feelings, as I grow
impatient with alone.
A rousing verse,
a mangled rose, a sigh of jazz
all sings your absence.
Through decay of years
you have seen us
depart from your haven
washing our youthful hands of you
your word once signified to us
a scepter of truth
has been tempered
to endorse our iniquities
Petty rituals endeavor
to serve as your alter
but reciting hail marys
cannot deliver our souls
We still have not learned
that our spirits will not be freed
on account of obedience
to ceremonial rules
He said if I returned to him
then he would return to me
but I am only a worm of a girl
yet he speaks as though life
was like taking small breaths
as simple as birds
I suppose if I spoke like pearls
walked on prudent feet
penciled my hands sterling silver
I could be that sunset for you
the lash of sky across your Nevada
If only I followed you with earnest
I would not shake like December limbs
or fetter my wings with snow
through you I am moved
to become the woman I should be
I was too precocious for autumn, too benign for moon.
I parted from the perils I watched others endured.
Still, Iβve suffered more than a poor man has
greater than cracked ribs ever did;
and yet my firefly of hope will not lie over
in a grave of your demands.
There are times I feel like a tattered wheel,
a nail being stoned a thousand times
farther in the belly of ground.
Then I remember what evening holds,
what darkness undergoes in solace.
In living this grasshopper life
Iβve withstood the bleeding nose,
the pull and tug of meddling rivers
that brings forth the challenges
encountered in this world.
I did not gloss concerns
raised in your letter
though my belief rivaled your thoughts
like opposing soldiers
it would have been easy
to white out your words
shake them to something more pleasing
then make believe reasons you gave
held no validity
I was too distracted by failure
to have noticed criticism
I neither reviled nor praised
since long before you
my pride curtailed its swagger
its ego bent in four
as I withstood all sorts of setbacks
and now rejection isnβt as hard
She walks like a ghost
only God hears her footfalls
treading on quilted floors
as she enters rooms
that do not speak her sounds
soft pillows of carpet
silence her feet
I become aware of her presence
each time a figure
without movements
passes by
Night stood alone
apart from the deck of lights
she puffed on smoke for hours
while vexed with the city
for wanting her gone
Her thoughts exhausted sky
as she became aware
her necessity will not be reclaimed
in the seventh hour
when light overflows
and gives the only score of time
No one will miss her bulletproof anger
the pork of lies she feeds us in between
her offering of quiet deaths
she tosses slander like grenades
aims her rifle on the poor
without a tinge of remorse
and now wonders why she will not be missed
In the eve of dust
we will ride the yellow cab
across the tethered fields
to heal cracked rivers.
I am the dreamchaser
and you are no longer torn
through me you can still perfect the sun,
reap what is in the well of you,
gather wisdom as your own
this and more is possible
if you would simply remove
your doubting seeds.
A pebble in a cosmic world
depicts my being
compared to you
I am but a brush
a small feature
a neophyte among stars
Autumn falls
like feathers,
softly without sound
sprinkling leaves
of amber & violet
that descend from able trees,
carried by
ushering winds
before settling quietly
on the surface
finally reaching an end
as autumn
begins again
Subtly
she emits
her calmness
upon those who
watch her,
bringing tranquility
to all that see
her beauty
Inspiration comes from
the words of Maya
a poet who writes
holistic verses
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