Unscrambled Eggs, Nadia Brown [good summer reads .txt] 📗

swiftly

it was not maliciousness

that hastened you away

but truth

Farewell to Hardship

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

Ms. Ordinary

I have left faith

to linger outdoors,

nail‐polish 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

The Writer

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 don’t care much for anyone

Gone

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

Moon over Columbus

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 you’ve reaped

leaving just the blues

and the agony it unfurls

Deprived

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.

Misguided

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

Only a Girl

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

Lifeboat

I was too precocious for autumn, too benign for moon.

I parted from the perils I watched others endured.

Still, I’ve 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

I’ve withstood the bleeding nose,

the pull and tug of meddling rivers

that brings forth the challenges

encountered in this world.

A Note from Erin

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 isn’t as hard

Silent Walk

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

Seventh Hour

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

Dreamchaser

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.

Pebble

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 Softly

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

Salute to Maya

Inspiration comes from

the words of Maya

a poet who writes

holistic verses