Bring Her Home

Posted on May 9, 2014 by Raivenne

.
.
The multiple hues a cacophony of color
Cascading twixt tired fingers
She sighs knowing,
She should go do something
She should go do anything,
Anything but the nothing she’s doing now
Still her fingers swirl as she lingers

Her thoughts as deeply jumbled
as the colors before her
While she ponders the fate
Of the little girl who owns them
They will be hers again she thinks resolutely
Because she cannot think of her daughter in past tense
No, she cannot think that it is already too late

This room that hurts the most to dwell
Yet her heart carries it along anyway
When to other rooms she roams
She lifts her head to sky her heart sees
Beyond the walls of the room she stands
Praying her prayers are heard,
Praying her prayers are answered

** “Hear my prayer
In my need
You have always been there
She is young
She’s afraid
Let her rest
Heaven blessed.
Bring her home
Bring her home
Bring her home”

#BringOurGirlsHome
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** Gender switching the heatbreakingly beautiful “Bring Him Home” from Les Miserables.

Today at dVerse we’re challenged to write a poem about NEWS of any type. From personal to local, national, international, past, or present news. And this just happened to be sitting around…

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics – Good News, Bad News, Your News!

The Angels

Posted on October 19, 2013 by Raivenne

The angels up in heaven guide every thing we do
They watch us and support us and gently help us through
All that life has for us, the unexpected and the planned
From the moment that we’re born, until next to God we stand

Some stand watch above us as when we just can’t sleep
Others give us comfort for the times we weep
Some angels gather up the dreams that come during the night
So when our eyes are open their sisters get the details right

There are angels whose voices whisper in our ear
at just the right moment to conquer all our fear
They are sisters of the voices that guide you when you stray
From the His path, they help set you back on the right way

There are unique angels who help keep friendships whole
should we hurt the ones we love when we lose control
There are angels for our hearts and we give them plenty to do
As we go through all the wrong ones, for our soul mates true

Season Angels guide not our earthly clime,
but rather our earthly time
From the Spring angels trumpeting our birth,
until the Winter angels’ last bells chime

Granted some Angels paths are shorter,
while other have a longer phase
But each in turn guide through
the Summer and the Autumn of our days

From the moment that we’re born, until next to God we stand
All that life has for us, the unexpected and the planned
They watch us and support us and gently help us through
The angels up in heaven guide every thing we do

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dVerse ~Poets Pub | The Mind of a Child–dVerse Poetics

Poor Man

Posted on May 12, 2013 by Raivenne

Poor is an image I find difficult to afford
Man as the tool to my gain is in constant accord

I can only imagine it – and it’s mine ’till he sighs
Have not met a sugar who didn’t want these thighs
To decorate his hungry lap with something fresh
Tell him I’m a mistake? – I did, I really tried but
You can’t reseal the lid on a busted nut

He took a gamble on the liquid swing of my hips
Never fearful of the snug feel of my lips
Knew he could last longer than always
What has he known? On that subject I’ve got it sewn!
Hit it like an olden broken record pumped straight through
Him everywhere – yeah – my ample tool struck true

But my mantle? Starting anew after I take and take
I am not good at what I do – I’m better
Did I not try to tell him I was a mistake?

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A little Word Acrostic tempted me…

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics : It’s Tempting!

Notions of Beauty

Posted on February 10, 2013 by Raivenne

As an adolescent she’s told her looks are of a different class
Thus she finds herself staring hard in the looking glass
Not something she understands like ‘cute’ or ‘pretty’
Or even something as distinct like ‘siddity’
Just a tad too young to get the full meaning of erotic
But just old enough to know it’s not good to be exotic

Ferried every other Friday to the beautician’s chair
The only way to tame her long tightly woven hair
Suffers sleeping at night with a snug clothing pin
Shaping her nose so it’s straight and thin
Wooing her lips to sit just a tad inside
Knowing what they say about lips that are wide

Gone are the colorific beads that once adorned her hair
She’s older now and looks like that look cause stares
No batiks of blazing hues or other prints of ‘that’ fashion
More intents to belie the stereotypes of passion
Make sure her posture, like her diction is just so
Muddling through comparisons to a cookie we know

Walking ramrod straight without a rounded swerve
An attempt to camouflage of her natural curve
For decades she carefully toed that social standoff
Through the changing climes of wardrobe and coif
Never looking like ‘that’ was her personal pride
But conflicted as social and ethnic respect collide

But one perm too many turned it all about
Years of chemicals caused her hair to fall out
She tried extensions and other sorts of hair aids
She’s told leave it alone or more will fall out in spades
Her hair short and kinky, not since her childhood
She’s forced to face her definitions of what is good

Her childhood teachings, the well meant suggestions
Every single bit of it came into question
Resentful for feeling defensive of other’s disdain
Now that her looks no longer follow the ‘main’
Realizing she herself was once guilty of the same negation
That had nothing to do with her character or her education

It was a few years more to combine mentalities
Before she was comfortable with her new realities
Now she revels in her cultural prints and chains of jute
And she’s just as gregarious in her pinstripe suit
No longer concerned with how well she blended
Notions of beauty redefined, her spirit mended

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics– The Art of Letting Go

And I Tell No One

Posted on February 10, 2013 by Raivenne

I carry inside
The family pains
The broken relationships
The broken friendships
The broken dreams
How I try do right
Even during the times
When I can do nothing
It is with me always

And I tell no one

I carry inside
The lump in my throat so sore
I scream on the inside
To choke down in fear
Of the love I’ve learned
To never take for granted
For it is far too fleeting
Even while wishing
It will come once more
Even if only to be lost again
It is with me always

And I tell no one

I carry inside
This beating heart
That overflows
With the strains
The understanding
That I’ve been dying
Since the day I was born
And the only thing
That can be done about it
Is to take it to its conclusion
It is with me always

And I tell no one

And I carry inside
A fervent desire
To hurry that conclusion
It is with me always

And I tell no one

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Today at dVerse we are asked to “confess” via poetry.

And before anyone panics, the above is taken from an old journal entry. Yes, I’ve had some bad days in the past that I pray are not a part of my future, however, I promise all of you I am fine.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetic Confessions

Answer to the ∞th Question

Posted on January 5, 2013 by Raivenne

My child you’ve asked Me to define
How do you feel a life divine
A presence in the air you breathe
It’s when My child I call you Mine

I’m in the shh-shh of the breeze
Soft flowing through the willow’s leaves
I’m in the chanting of the chimes
The faltering of buzzing bees

I’m wrapped in the most ancient rhymes
Brought through to these most modern times
I’m the warble of bluebird’s song
A testament to changing climes

I’m the magnet whose pull’s so strong
To help right you before the wrong
The crowd you handle on your own
The Single Presence in the throng

I’m in the chances that you’ve blown
I’m in the peace when you atone
I’m in the strength when fears you fight
I’m in the pleasures when you moan

I’m in each morsel that you bite
The prayers you retire at night
I am the final finish line
The practice of a life lived right

So child you’ve asked Me to define
How do you feel a life divine
It’s when My love is mixed with thine
It’s when My child I call you Mine

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics: Peace Within and Without

Cycle

Posted on October 28, 2012 by Raivenne

Gleam in His eye

A Memory
Ashes to Ashes
Longevity?

With blessings well aged
With blessings well saged

A many decade writer
Hopefully equal giver and receiver
Always a friend
And of course a Diva

At the beginning of my world-travels
Patient when a holiday light unravels

A Home Owner
An Amorous Wife
Luckily better at inciting passion
Sometimes the cause of strife

Professional at Work
Part-time Jerk

Occasional Fighter
Mother of another
Mother
Poetess

A Daughter
Alive
Me

Gleam in His eye

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics: Self-Portrait

Precious

Posted on September 23, 2012 by Raivenne

Mama holds me in her arms
She doesn’t mind the newborn mess
She takes my measure in her mind,
With a prayer to God to Bless

People mill all around her
The major and minor doings of birth
She tells them all to mark her words
I will make my mark upon this earth

She imagines me dressed for church
Sending pictures of me in the mail
She notes the quiet baby I am
Saying smart babies don’t need to wail

She says I will map new ways
Or maybe I will find new cures
Service is my family’s mantle
Of that she assures

The nurse wants to take me
But Mama holds me tight
They convince her to let go
That it’s going to be alright

My dad bursts through the door
Comes face to face with his fears
His face belies the truth
And Mama bursts into tears

She says my name is Precious
That’s what I am to them you see
That my very life was precious
Because I never came to be
====================

dVerse Poets Pub – Unexpected Poetics

Too Many…

Posted on July 1, 2011 by Raivenne

Pass me the green ones hon, would you please?
Not the celery, much too light.
Not that moss, much too tight.
Not the mint, it won’t match with what I’m wearing.
Not the Jade either, it’s much too daring.
No, the pine, the hunter nor the apple will do.
Geesh! Not the Khaki! What’s wrong with you?!
Oh, I’m so not wearing the alpine,
I’ll not have folks think I’ve lost my mind!
No! Not the forest, not the teal, not the pea.
Just what are you trying to do to me?
The GREEN one! No, the green one right there!
I’m beginning to think, you just don’t care…
What’s the difference?! That’s lime not chartreuse!
What do you mean I have too many shoes?

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No, I do not have any shoes in the above colors (yet). 😀

One Stop Poetry Perfect Poet Award Week 48dVerse ~ Poets Pub | It’s Not Easy Being Green and Also Poetic. (Or, Is It?)

The Only Thing…

Posted on June 13, 2011 by Raivenne

The scratch behind the record playing
Hear it on the radio?
That susurrus? What is it saying?
Is it your mind about to go?
The ragged chill running down your spine
On a most warm and sunny day
The nagging feeling in your mind
That takes the words you want to say