Friday Poetry 5.31.13

by | May 31, 2013 | Poetry

Bravery – Dedicated to Kriss Mincey

Never so beautiful as when you are singing
And believe me young lady, you’ve got beauty in spades
But more than that
It is your bravery I most admire
It is the golden power in you
Your chocolate brown soul
That says
I can smile and sing
America can see me
The world can hear me
I am inspired by your bootstraps
The very ones you use to lift yourself up
Cute like the sandals I saw you wear one time
Or the song in the basement
I heard you croon
When you were giving thanks
And your smile tells stories girl
Smart chic
Black nightingale
Tickle YOU love
Thursday night soul cries deep like music fingers
In the waves of oceans of ears
Fearless and fierce
Your bravery like an amulet
Your determination like a phalanx
You are a force
I am so humbled
And inspired too
Never so beautiful as when you are singing
And believe me young lady,
You’ve got beauty in spades

(c) 2011 Tiffany Monique

A Poem of Deconstruction, inspired by Ernest Silva
Visual vocabulary. Practical craft. Conspirators. Control. “Wars are fought for resources.” Glass. Guston. Readable themes. Process of judgement. Abstract beauty.. Playful warfare. Somehow become animate. Personal commentary. Applied seductively. Painting the mask itself. “Are we beneath… are we the mask?”. Paul Thek. Upheaval. Westerman. Deathship. People were curious. Passionate. Wooden wharf. Automatic weapon. Transformed objects. Elephant. Quixotic. “It impresses me”. Simple inventory. Trigger associations. Goofed. “A constructed person”.Volcanic. Dark sea. Visual resources. “Sense of vividness”. Voyage. Abstract calligraphy. Homage. Beauty of shimmering. Ephemerality. “Tragic occurrences in the world”. Superimposing. “Collisions of realities”. Source imagery. Sound of the rain. Wonder. Highly saturated. Rewarding to me. “Conflict between nature & human nature… actor [is] image to pose a question… constructed to keep fear away.” Synthetic quality. Unpredictability. Represent memory. Adventurousness. Evoke twilight. “Precarious balance between human nature and nature… destruction of something that is the same as you.” Learn your craft. “Only become an artists if you have to”. “Play it like this but then put yourself on top of it.”

From January 28th 2013

Her voice is so soft, it belies her strength
A strength forgotten in the many maelstroms
I wish her power I can not give
She must take it
She must fight her way to stay awake
Where do they go 
These with voices gone
She whispers
Echoes of beautiful power
Sex, sass, strength, sufficiency
I’ve lost her
She lost her
I’m not the map
I’m not the way back
But I know she must go back
Back home to herself
From June 8th 2010 
I missed you hamstring.
Inner thigh tried to come between us.
We used to hang out with knees and calves at the beach, and in our dresses.
Old crones would call us provocative and promiscuous.
Perhaps we were.
But we are gonna hang out soon, and more.
You deserve your time in the sun.
A Dream in Prose from November 2009
I dreamed of a man. He was selling wares (the only one at market). Every one bought pieces that were shiny. I chose fabric. I didn’t know when I chose it, but the fabric matched the man’s. He and I wore dark crimson. I was trying to save a boy, a little boy. He fell against the wall, or perhaps he was thrown. The man calmed me, saying the boy was in no more danger. Then we regarded each other. He saw what I wore, or perhaps he just acknowledged that I matched him. We knew what we were to each other. A performer was behind us in purple. I did not trust them, because they’d chosen a shiny thing. They were jealous of the man and I matching, but they chose the shiny thing on their own.
From Fall 2009
The season is changing
The tide turning
But the dead do not rise
The road less taken
Is still taken
But the dead do not rise
Armies rage and conquer
Political
But the dead do not rise
Lovers come together
Love is lost
But the dead do not rise