Saturday, August 10, 2019

I Think I’ve Seized the Wrong Damn Day!!




Phoenix by Ijeoma Umebinyuo
From:  "Questions For Ada"
One day,
your bones will get weary
of men
who refuse to worship the God in you.
On that day,
you will either slit your soul
or gather your spirit
leaving any man
who has never called you
Holy.
Remember
how your mother kept her bones warm
on nights your father was far away.
So,
do not love a man who keeps you clinging
to the pillow for too many nights.
Stay away
from men who peel the skin
of other women, forcing you to wear them.
Remember how your mother struggled
to find her skin in the pile.
Do not
scratch your words,
soften your pain or scrub yourself in shame.
Do not
drown yourself in a man.
He will leave you struggling to breathe.
וווו×

2 comments:

Snowbrush said...

This post got me to wondering if you care for make-up. It also put me in mind of an old observation of mine which was that, although, many women might think they want a man to worship them, being worshiped allows no room for mistakes, so unless a woman is above making mistakes, being worshiped is sure to result in a great deal of anger.

I awakened today thinking about Whitman's poem, "I Saw in Louisiana a Live Oak Growing," and I wondered if it is one that you've ever put on your blog.

Marion said...

Snow, I wear minimal makeup...and wore no makeup at all until I began working as a Legal Secretary in my early 30’s. I was young & beautiful & didn’t need makeup...very hippie girl. I’ve sprayed Rose Water and other homemade organic herbal sprays or lotions on my skin, so I have few wrinkles. I also wear hats & sunscreen face lotion when in the sun. I’ve used OZNaturals Hyaluronic Acid for a few years on my face. I got 3 bottles free to review at Amazon and I love the stuff. It really works & it’s natural.

I had waist length hair and stayed barefoot when at home until my motorcycle wreck when I was 28 and my long hair was a pain in the ass to care for because I spent 6 long weeks in a hospital bed in my living room: broken hip, leg, arm, both wrists crushed. My beautiful best friend, Keith Cox, was a hairdresser and he came over often and cut my hair to shoulder length, which was the shortest it had been since I was 12 years old. He’d wash my hair, paint my toenails & fingernails, too. I was madly in love with him, but he was gay. We were both Cancers and had a lot in common. He died of AIDS in the late 80’s. I spoke to him a few weeks before he died. I still miss him. He was my first male friend soulmate.

I love Whitman and I think I may have posted that poem...It’s a favorite of mine. I’ll have to check. If not, I’ll definitely post it. So many great poets, so little time! Thanks for stopping by, my friend. xo