This is a fairly new piece that came from a writing exercise that uses pictures to inspire poetry. I was drawn to a picture of 2 eggs and this is what moved through me. I performed this at an open mic recently, but as I typed it today, it changed a bit. I’m at peace with my poems shifting until they feel done…
cracked
(C) 2013 by margaux delotte-bennett
my sanity is fragile
like the shell of an egg
with a crack in it
the secrets
dramas & dreams
scrambled just below the surface
and if I’m not handled
gently
your grip will crush me
force me to ooze between
your fingers
I am not hard boiled
or pickled
the sunny side is
seldom up
I spin smoothly on my side
circling the pitfalls & missteps
of others
that could leave me splattered
nothing more than a wet stain
on the unassuming sidewalk
of this life
scattered bits of me
speckling the passing pavement
like the shell of an egg
with a crack in it
my sanity is fragile
I am letting you know
because I must
be handled with care
Filed under: mental health
you are better off
(C) 2012 by margaux delotte-bennett
the chatter in your head is music to your ears
radio off to better hear
the wordplay
psycho babble
banter
you pose questions
a lot
remember
a lot
ponder what if
what next
who
when
why
and sometimes you try
to disappear inside your mind
where worries about the shape of your belly
the texture of your hair
disappear with the fear
of being forgotten
unloved
misunderstood
the radio would make those thoughts burn holes in your dreams
you are much better off with the silence
it seems
but music has always allowed
your soul to transcend
this space and time
meter
rhyme
turntables adorn your alters
and spirit filled musky rooms
define your peace
is it the release?
is it the sweat?
is it the debt paid
by hours of missed sleep
leaving no time to retreat into destructive thoughts?
when arms and heads are thrown back
whatever lack
might have been perceived
is questioned
as your body does things often mentioned but not seen
legs strongly show that they are more than just lean
but we were talking of your mind and times when surround sound
must be turned down
to hear yourself
think
at those times your spirit does the opposite of shrink
from within and out
you beam
you are much better off with the silence
it seems
Filed under: mental health
so i finished a new poem this week, but i decided to post an older poem that i actually can’t remember writing…
though i am a social worker informed by my poetry, i don’t have many pieces that bring my worlds together. here is one that does just that.
he wants to know
(c) 2007 by margaux delotte-bennett
living room floor scattered with magazines
scissors
construction paper
sitting in a circle making collages about family
trying to help an 8 year old talk about all he is going through
all that he has to contend with to survive
“can i ask you a question” he asks
“sure” i respond
“what are some of the problems that your family has to go through?”
a quick intake of breath, by mom
a cupped mouth giggle, by sis
an almost inaudible sorry escapes his lips and downcast eyes
i know that he just wants me to make him feel normal
i know he just needs to know that his family is not broken beyond repair
i know that he wants to be sure that he’ll make it to my age and size.
i can’t promise him all that,
but i can start to show him that all families have challenges
and most challenges have multiple solutions
and most solutions are inside our minds
spirits
hearts
i’m supposed to be here
in this time and place
sitting on this living room floor
scattered with magazines
scissors
construction paper
tools to deconstruct and reconstruct
a new definition of family
that can help this young man
feel
whole
untitled #42511
(c) 2011 by margaux delotte-bennett
where do you put them?
all those lies that you are fed about your worth?
the questions about why you are here,
your value and your purpose?
where do you put the belief that you are anything less than golden?
how do you stand tall
under the burden of being
black
female
young?
why do you rise from bed
when everything is trying to
convince you to stay put
under the covers
afraid
and
alone?
who pushes you forward
when everyone
everything seems to
conspire to hold you back?
i hope the answer is you.
Filed under: mental health
while silent
© 2011 by margaux delotte-bennett
breath
deep
eyes
wide
heart
beat
hands
beside legs
long
eyes
closed
soul
strong
mind
transposed
for today’s writing exercise i tried my hand at a Persian poetic form called a ghazal. couplets, repeating phrases and a tendancy towards longing… here goes!
releasing fear
(c) 2011 by margaux delotte-bennett
tentative steps become giant leaps when one is releasing fear
a heart hungry for comfort seldom sleeps when one is releasing fear
gripping firmly on terror can cause ashen hands to cramp
relaxing one’s grip causes fingers to slip through moments releasing fear.
sight is limited by what is now known, though possibilities always abound
timidity aside, eyes quicken to spy a new vision releasing fear
as children we seldon knew worry; and horror slowdanced with delight
as the years run by, when did our childish eyes become consumed with releasing fear?
i stand at the ready, hands clear, eyes steady with no interest in living in dread
because living requires trust and courage, dear margaux, and pure joy in releasing fear.
to be honest, i hit a bit of a dry spell during these days because i left my poetry book at work and i ran around during the weekend. here is a piece i revisited and revised during those days…
for those
(c) 2011 by margaux delotte-bennett
for those
currently wrapped up in sadness
heavy hearts
minds
eyes puffed and sore from crying out pain
chipping through the facade of
i’m ok
everything’s fine
this too shall pass
when the rhetoric fails
and the chocolate’s all gone
and it’s a bit harder to get out of bed
know that without motion
movement
it all remains
the little good and the lots of bad
the sinking feeling
the gaping hole
staying in the funk
is never a good choice
so tread
until you can swim
swim
until you can fly
fly
up and out of “this”
because i assure that “that”
is so much better.
untitled #4811
(c) 2011 by margaux delotte-bennett
10 minutes ’til the end of this day
time trudged on
from first light to last
all of the seconds that passed were full
interviews
meetings
disclosures
government reports
work done not for profit
but for pride
and a chance to say
i hope that talking to me
may have helped her save her own life
feeling comfort © 2005 by margaux delotte-bennett
remember when all you needed to feel comfort
was a finger in your mouth
and others playing with your ear
these small gestures could
envelope us in calm
and evaporate the wrong
like moment gone by
seconds sure to fly around and land into a clock
once again
and if it still hurt
or made us cry
a well-place kiss
a tender touch
a knowing glance
could start us on the road to so much better
now these days
sadness can follow us and stay
and no amount of fingers
and kisses
and glances
can console
have our woes become more complicated
or has simplicity run away
with our imaginary friends
and the thirst to run in circles for hours?
hours spent feeling didn’t reduce us to tears
unless they were wrapped around
sticks and stones and biting words
hours spent feeling didn’t have a price tag
or a prescription attached to them
or a comfy chair in an uncomfortable room
hours spent feeling were the only option
because being out of touch
or denying, suppressing, magnifying
what was
wouldn’t do
because we saw things for what they were
shades of grey weren’t explained away in books
and looks weren’t all knowing
unless they came from someone who said
i love you
and really meant it
hours spent feeling were just that
time consumed by responding to life
in all its many forms, textures
our bodies and our minds could only be molded into now
because yesterday was old and
tomorrow was scary because you couldn’t see it
like the monsters under the bed, but
you knew they were there
and soon
moments became days
seasons
years
and counselors
took on the roles of our friends
medicines became our modern day candy
and time
our only captor and comfort
comfort and curse
curse and cure
i wrote this piece while i was still a social work intern. i had had a bad session and i wanted to decompress…
social work student (c) 2006 by margaux delotte-bennett
the silence is so loud today
i pushed too hard
she clammed up
shut down
turned inside her thoughts and
went to the place where she is safe
in her head
pen on paper
head supported by her arm
we write side by side
but we are worlds apart
too far away to connect today
how long do i stay?
until my obligatory hour is up?
until i feel like my leaving is not a retreat?
until she says something
anything
opens up her heart and
screams out the pain
written on her young face…
says, she doesn’t care
i know she does
says, there’s nothing she can do
i know there is
(but what i know is not important)
says, nothing
i do the same
simply writing out our pain is so much easier…
Black & Kinky Amongst Brown Waves 