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

Long Fallen

Posted on September 9, 2012 by Raivenne

It’s Autumn, where the verdant leaves turns gold,
And goldenrod leaves quickly become old
And those old leaves soon become just like me
Something broken and crushed, something empty
Long fallen from the grace it used to be

Hard to believe, less than eight years ago,
I think eight, I’m not sure, the years blend so
My employer came to me one down time
And said I wasn’t pulling in the dimes
I’m a utensil that was past my prime

That as such made me particular waste
And was let go from employ with due haste
Youth started its slide from my once young face
I knew the rules, there was no pleading case
No chance of rescue in this youth built place

I started at fifteen, oh such a knave
But had a knack for knowing clients’ craves
I worked there before I had license to
Attained status, before my year was through
This job was all I ever knew to do

The cache of being ‘personal escort’
I never knew a life without support
That cache provided me some global treks
Spinning clients through my erotic hex
And I won’t lie; I damn sure loved the sex

I joked this job was custom made for me
Their faces at the point of ecstasy
And as conversant in Sun Tzu as Mr. Magoo
My clients soon found out I had smarts too
And for the price, little I would not do

Out lasted many who’ve come through the door
Damn lucky to be there at fifty-four
But like my concaved waist, it couldn’t last
My job choices were very far from vast
Don’t have much future because of my past

I’m offered some dinky job on the side
But I still had a little too much pride
To be a has-been hanging on the scene
I remember how I treated has-beens mean
When I once ruled the roost as its main queen

I’m treated like someone they’ve never known
When I tried to hold some clients on my own
With individual contact of each
A beat down was the last lesson left to teach
That everything I had was out of reach

I’ve gone from elite, to stripper, to street
Where I fidget on very tired feet
Jumping from each nameless and faceless mate
Wondering just which day will seal my fate
The seasons are my only notes of date

And it’s Autumn again the leaves turn gold,
Slowly turning other colors they grow old
Long fallen from the place they used to be
What time has washed away past their glory
And then die, a cruel metaphor of me

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dVerse Poets Pub ~ Poetics: Autumn Chill is in the Air

Summer in the City

Posted on August 19, 2012 by Raivenne

Johnny pumps sprinkle water on the kids in its midst
A modern city’s version of a provincial mist
The drifting mist calls, but I somehow resist
Knowing wet clothes aren’t high on my boss’ list
From blocks away I can see the asphalt steam
Summer in the city makes me want to scream

Summer sun blazes down on the street
Feels like my soles are melting off my feet
It’s just 8 AM and I’m sweating from the heat
I’ve got a long day to go and already feeling beat
The humidity making it all the more extreme
Summer in the city makes me want to scream

Perfectly pressed suit of the business woman
Perfectly squashed in the subway sardine can
Hotter than the devil’s cooking pan
Even in the shade I’m catching a tan
Skin feels like jelly oozing through my seam
Summer in the city makes me want to scream

Sweat drips and I can feel the drop of each
Fall to places my fingers simply just can’t reach
Another working Jane, dodging taxi tires’ screech
Adamantly not losing my manners with my speech
The horns, the haze, the heat, it all seems
Summer in the city makes me want to scream

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dVerse Poets Pub | In Summer-y; Dog Days/Zucchini/Poetics

Final Moments…

Posted on June 3, 2012 by Raivenne

Tick…………………………

Part dreading, part anticipating.

I sit here in the final moments waiting.

Tick………………

So much time has passed, and yet not enough.
Did I do all I could? Am I now up to snuff?

Part dreading, part anticipating.

Tick……………

Jam packed to the gills, hardly slacking.
For all I’ve done in this time, I still feel a lacking.

I sit here in the final moments waiting.

Tick………

The time before this moment once seemed so vast.
Felt I had forever before this would come to past.

Part dreading, part anticipating.

Tick…

What pays the bills is not how I stay alive.
This globe-trotting heart of mine and this job don’t jibe.
First day back to work after a nice vacation.
I sigh and face the day with trepidation.

I sit here in the final moments waiting.

Tock!

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Because I go back to work in the morning…

dVerse Poets Pub | POETICS: Workin’ For It

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