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Joy Nov 2015
A morning with you and your rumbling stars,
Dancing about the room with smiles running off my face.
There is someone tapping on my brain,
There is something telling me that this wrong,
Reminding me that tomorrow would think twice
Before giving you up to me.
Can't you see the diamonds in my eyes,
Can't you hear my heart blitzing on it's toes
As it makes a break for the Heavens above?
Can't you see that we would be the best of the best,
We'd be precious, like you would say, love -
My God! We'd be great.

There is a scratch in my voice when we part ways, though -
It is the part of me that knows that you
Will never hold my hand
Or long to kiss my morning lips,
Heavy with slumber.
You will never know a day-dreaming me
Screaming giddy as her character dies,
And you will never see me as I crawl across the sheets
To fit into the groove of your arms.
I swallow my next breath before the truth
Rips itself into existence -
I will never let you know.
November, 2015
Joy Nov 2015
Today, I am a pirate ship -
My heart, the red and white sails of a head-hardy
*** spilling
Caribbean bound me
With men marooned to a land of
Salty wood and salty seas
Knowing nothing but the sun's devilish smile in
The morning tide
Or an Atlantic storm
Tossing them about like
The horizon's spitballs.

We will brave the whims of now,
The rapid tonight, the slow coming tomorrow
With a voice in the wind saying,
"And I swear to the gold you will find
Or the breast of that distant thing called land
That my fibers will catch the air,
My fabric will not tear.
Unfurl me under cloudless skies
And the charcoal memories of an
Ocean-stripped-to-the-Heaven's-above alike -
I will take you to places you could never even fathom."
November, 2015

My heart aches for the sea.
Joy Nov 2015
I remember when I was a blank canvas, when I was
Stuck in dusk - something gray and in between.
I think the world only knows innocence
Like shooters only know a shooting target
Because it wasn't long until colors were flung,
Spilling into the sky -
Red's passion, yellow's trepidation, blue's deep-seated sorrow,
And green is the dreamer that wants to know them all, isn't he?

I will never meet those days of gray,
I will never know charcoal hearts drinking in phantom
Images of rainbows from afar.
I will never again be a dull, cloudy sky
Lost floating on my idle waves
In awe of a distant idea of iridescence flaunting in the sky.
I will never again know the weightlessness
Of being untouched by this twisted
Artist of a world we live in.
November, 2015
  Nov 2015 Joy
Vernell Allen
I was an infant sounding out
vowels on labels fixated with
complexions not hearts.
Sermons spoken spilled salt

on wounds shaped from moments
when the sword was mightier than the pen.
I was mute as black blood
streamed letters the mature read

and dismissed as chicken scratch.
Pleas to unlock the chains noosed
around my heart, never heard,
until my ears opened to self acceptance—

the song hearts dance to without shame,
the vernacular spoken without stutter.
The key frees my soul from shackles
and dissolves the branded lesions borne.

They were just words.
Don't be diminished by labels others place on you.
  Nov 2015 Joy
Wednesday
He said:
"let's pretend you don't come in waves of blue hair and mystery."  

Lets take these shots so you can be a bad girl for me.
And I stood there toeing a half empty beer can
with my beat up boots thinking
"what the **** dude?"

He said I want to get to know you,
I want to see if what they say is true.
I look up through the smoke and the lights and the crowd
and tell you "It is".

And this excites him. "Oh yeah baby I know what you are".

"What am I? I thought was nothing but a blue haired mystery, an enigma, a presence to be desired...",
and he leans in to me, his gin soaked breath in my ear:

"You love, are a ******* temptress."

So now I have been reduced to all damsel all lust all distress.
Those stupid princes never stop to wonder
if the pretty face in the tower even wants to be rescued.

Cause babe, I never asked to be saved.

Cause maybe I have built these walls to keep men like you out.
Or maybe I just wanted to have the chance to
invite you in on my own terms.

Maybe I just wanted to be able to escort you out.
This has never been my prison, this is my tower.
My legacy.
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