Graduate school

My hips happily feel the air
As I walked down play dough pavements
And around cement trees

My knees feel the humidity
As I bend in momentum
Crushing the potato chips leaves beneath me

Two years sound like a long time
To bend my knees away from my lover
My mother and my brother

Writing is a pain to many I’m sure
Writing is despair to an idle tongue
Writing is not an oral way of living

Writing is like my lover
I smile at the keys that stay with me every moment of this journey
Writing is like my mother
Nurturing me with every new thought and phrase
Writing is like my brother
Keeping me company in moments of cognition

My fingers move with intention
My hips move with the lover of my words
My eyes do not leave the page

I orally proclaim my love for my fingers
For they type all my pleasures
That spill onto this electronic screen
Never turn off

rayraywaterpicpoem

The silent, subtleties of

Natives with neural activity

around these relatives

Boom to the ears of the corn

blast to the beans temples

and cuddle the cotyledons

Seeds with technology and instinct

KNOW

 

Then they swoon into the soil

Caress and cradle

roots spread

And stir

With dirt in between

Swollen bulbs

 

Feeling the weight of a

Tender energy

Guide down and deep

For they know it’s time

To germinate

And validate

What they were born for

 

To gift

To nourish

And to continue a cycle

Of some kind

Perspiring preparation

Laughing anticipation

leads to a new season

of hope

 

The water is ready

and

The sun has not come

Soon enough

♥Bent- K.I.S.S.E.S♥