Camera poised for poses of smiles and laughter
Concealing a union’s sunset
In a horizon of demise
Portraits foreshadowing tragedy
The fights that brewed and rumbled before
The capture of curled lips with crooked intentions
Memories to play the perfect role
For an audience of none
All rights go to Juana M. Gumbs as her original poem. 01/04/2021
While the bombs go off about me
While the time-lapse scurries by
And my clothing drenched with mud and tears
And I
Just wondering while wandering
What happened
How I’d forget the details too
All the motions and how they connect
Through the motions, through duress
The distant bombs still tell of danger
And in this greatly catastrophic time
I found a crevice to hide, bound
And binding
Licking wounds encrusted with dirt and tears and blood
In belief that if I do so
Then perhaps all of this is dream
Not fact
The rights to this poem goes to Juana M. Gumbs as of 01/03/2021
Here comes night
I, tortured
Fighting sleep again
Which becomes
Too familiar
To the demon, Death
And falling, falling
Memories lost to a trickling end
But alive outside the reaches
Of the outer realms beyond me
Lost sense of self
Obliterated by the varied roles
In dynamic technicolor
Steadily played like
Keys on a Casio.
Everything is melodic until…
Every key harmonizing
Crescendoing into tones of doom
Who am I this time?
Time the illusionist
With it comes lessons learned
Titled the best trickster
The foe and if grasped right
The fiend that swallows
All semblance of your sanity
It was a faint touch on the shoulder that stirred her from sleep. The sun crept across the window, but she wasn’t conscious of it in the least. The second touch was on her elbow, then on her ankle, then an aggressive tap on the brow. This rouse her from sleep abruptly.
She sat up quickly from the shock, realizing that no one was in the house she slept soundly in for the past several hours. Her breathing quickened and she searched around her bedroom, but there was no one.
All rights reserved to Juana M. Gumbs 08/2020
This is for this day…it sure has been revealing some things to me. I’m paying these revelations much attention…
Feeling around in the dark
We found you
Shapelessness
We placed hands together
Formed you
When it was posed as impossible
We held on
Time allowed and kept up
We profound
A melody fortunate
Trapped in the minds of those that we touch
And we touch
Often
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This original blog post and poem was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her. May 2020 (C)
Veins are no different from tear-ducts
They flow despite themselves keeping us sustained
The return necessary for the process to continue
Even though it may be from dread or fate
Pain in the delay of the cycle
Of growth and grown and gone
We push pull and hesitate
Stifle
But still they come down your face
Blinding
Not without the lack of blood
Thank you for reading this spontaneous overflow. Please feel free to like and comment, even criticisms are welcome.
This original blog post and poem was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her. April 2020 (C)
Strange, I became accustomed to dreams of you pleasuring yourself with other women. Some of their faces blurred, others were women that we knew. Genie of my dreams, you are my reality and within my reality you are pristine. I could not understand why my subconscious missunderstood you to being unfaithful.
Now you only visit me in my dreams. In reality, you started a fire in me and now it is too much, you want to back out. In this dream I had a few hours ago, the reality was different. You came to me in my dreams. You entered into my home while I slept soundly in my bed. I was nude under the covers, but you only watched me. Then I stirred and you came into my view. Genie, I was elated to see you and you came into the bed with me and we rolled around in my giant bed together. We laughed and smiled at each other. The sunbeams glowed around you and the moon reflected from your eyes. I caressed your face, my fingers drizzled over your beard. I kissed and held you tighter. You mde me feel in this dream that there is hope in us. I looked up at you as you stood at the edge of the bed, Genie. You stood radiant, more brilliant than ever and I cried.
I woke, being both in awe and saddened because In being a wake, I realize that I have lost you. Possibly forever. You will never remember the good times we did share.
Thank you for reading about my dream I had just this afternoon.
This original blog post was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her April 2020 (C)
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