Black & Kinky Amongst Brown Waves

napowrimo, 25 of 30
April 26, 2017, 10:52 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

eight ways of looking at intimacy
(c) 2017 by margaux delotte-bennett

i talk with you in my head
and you answer me via text.
i laugh because i always know that it’s you.

on the phone you complained your knee
was in terrible pain.
i was calling from the emergency room
with a ruptured patella tendon in my left knee.

we used to have a two person book club.
light on the book, but heavy on the club
as we talked and laughed
and talked some more.

our artist dates always lead to
deeper creativity.
carving out time and
sharing space helps
our artistry thrive.

you come to my house
and claim space in my bed. i have
an extra room
but you would feel like you were
exiled in the sticks.

having tea parties
for hours
is just something we do.
we don’t see each other much
but maximize the time were given.

your yarn and wool creations
can be found scattered
throughout my house.
Here a heart, a scarf over there
a starfish on top of a crate.

when i or someone i know
is in need of prayer,
you are the first person i call.
your petitions always seem to
resolve it all.

napowrimo, 24 of 30
April 25, 2017, 10:06 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

mama obama clerihew
(c) 2017 by margaux delotte-bennett

michelle obama
was the white house first mama
being both gentle and stern
serving up quick looks that could burn!

napowrimo, 23 of 30
April 25, 2017, 9:59 pm
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the theme for the day was radical vulnerability and exploring life in the middle…


middle mothering
(c) 2017 by margaux delotte-bennett

I am in the middle of a mothering journey

betwixt queer, barren auntie and bountiful full house
no spouse
enough to feed and be fed
books a plenty to read and be read

a plan of action
a goal
a silent prayer I have and hold as I take to bed the vision of my life
never a millionaire
not necessarily a wife
but always a mother

and though unclear if the little one will come to or through
I stand here in the middle lands
as I wait for you

napowrimo, 22 of 30
April 23, 2017, 3:27 pm
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how water works
© 2017 by margaux delotte-bennett

when I talk to you
I cry
just like when I visit holy places
or when I’m at a loss for words
and even poetry fails me

the tears never come all at once
just trickle
then stream
a coming apart at the seams of
I’m fine
it’s ok

today it happened again
and like a familiar friend
I welcomed the release
made space to piece
myself back into
a whole

with no sure origin
or cause
the weeping ends
soon after it starts
with a pause of breath
sacred yet

is it latent sorrow drained?
unrequited pain?
excess water needing to escape

napowrimo, 21 of 30
April 23, 2017, 1:35 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

there is so much that goes into the writing of a poem (even a short poem like the one below)

for this poem:
1. celebrating earth day
2. a new poetic form (the double elevenie)
The typical structure of an elevenie is as follows:
Row/ Words/ Content
1/ 1/ A thought, an object, a color, a smell or the like
2/ 2/ What does the word from the first row do?
3/ 3/ Where or how is the word of row 1?
4/ 4/ What do you mean?
5/ 1/ Conclusion: What results from all this? What is the outcome?
3. an article with an inspiring title
4. time stolen from my sleep

earth day elevenies
(c) 2017 by margaux delotte-bennett

sustains life
suspended in space
slowly orbiting molten fire

offer comfort
journeying along side
showing up with care

napowrimo, 20 of 30
April 23, 2017, 12:26 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

i read this line in the beautiful book i’m currently reading, Rooftops of Tehran by Mahbod Seraji, and decided to use it as a poetry prompt.

One character says of his grandmother who is battling dementia after the death of her husband, “He was the God she never worshipped, and now she sees him everywhere.”

(c) 2017 by margaux delotte-bennett

i am making my way to your alter

hands open
knees bent
eyes shutting out what is
so that the mind can paint
what shall be

on bended knee
in open hands
i am making my way to your alter
to stand

in love
through light
despite fright and futures fraught
with spirits caught in a whirlwind

we spin and slide
making a way
beside what we know and see
you continue to walk next to me

holding my hands
cushioning my knees
opening my eyes to possibilities

in love
through light
we spin and slide
and just might collide
as i make my way to your alter
and find my home inside

Napowrimo, 19 of 30
April 23, 2017, 12:00 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

sugarcane’s stain
© 2017 by margaux delotte-bennet

there was a time/
and I’m not so sure
that it has passed
when every cup of tea was laced
with skin from an enslaved person’s back

plantation produced
cane reduced
to tiny saccharine grains
made sacred because of the pain
held within then
let loose

sweetness like a noose/
pulled taut/
heavy with truths of
scalded hands
crushed feet
rotten teeth from sugar
as pay
sugar as rum to wash the pain away
sugar as cash crop

sorted history