It is that unpredictable edge of the wave right before the break. Breathless raw fear that feels as though it may swallow you whole. That moment of  bated-breath before uttering the words of your unspoken heart. I love you. Feeling electricity run through your body like a freight train about to jump its tracks. Tender vulnerability that is seconds away from the light of exposure. Will you rise in strength or cower in shame? Do you open your mouth or leave it alone? Do you keep in silence what I already know? It is anxiety screaming as courage fights to enter the ring of all that is unforeseen and unknown. A dance between yesterday and tomorrow when today is the most meaningful show. It is the universe speaking to you in its loud taps and whispering ways. Exceptionally honorable in its truth and magnificently bold, the feelings of the heart…

Counting the dirty cracks in the sidewalk,
Listening to a great old song,
Echoing through my ears,
Whispered on a warm summer breeze
From a southern night, long ago.

Memory’s door is always open,
The path is free to tread:
A little boy singing with the radio,
Rhinestone dreams shared across the miles.

Bedrolls and sleeping bags,
Traveling down the line,
Spotlights and fan mail;
That subway token still inside my shoe.

The caress of your voice still lingers,
Transporting me across the miles,
Through the years,
And keeps you, forever, gentle on my mind.

8/9/17

Allen told me, If you want to find your voice
Forget about having it heard.
Speak your true unfiltered thoughts.
Don’t hide that special spark of madness.
Say what you say when no one is listening,
Write what you write when no one is reading.
Don’t write for “likes,” page-views, or popularity.
Open a vein o’er the inkwell,
Vomit gray matter onto your keyboard.

If you write it they will come,
A raggedy band of freaks and weirdos,
Marching out of step with themselves,
Painting their passports brown:
An audience looking for what you’re writing,
Searching for what they didn’t know existed,
Congregating together, hanging on every word.

In an age of cloned sheep,
Thinking for yourself and
Standing apart from the crowd
Can be a revolutionary act.

10/11/16

Inspired byDiscover Challenge: Radical Authenticity

I
reach
my dreams with words
that come undone
like a broken sigh
firing my soul
transcending 
amber 
lines
to 
quiver
a prayer
universal.
I reach  for the stars
to follow dreams
organic
sublime
raw




#ninette

Strong hands pulling down cool cups.

Steam whistling in the evening air.

A cool rag applied to a burning brow.

I know your hands, as tender as a lark on a branch.

You stir in the tea, silver clinking against mug.

Murmurs of songs long sung touch your lips.

With those hands you pluck a stick of honey, clip off the tip and begin to pour.

Gold streams from the plastic stick, mixing gently into steeping tea.

I smell peppermint.

-M.E. InkOwl

Tongues twisted

and lips burned

As taste was lost

in the words

that transpired

over morning cups

reeking of hesitation

and spoons of resignation

( Slowly brewing )

© Hudson Biko

Photograph: Drew Taylor

Inspired by the Daily Prompt: Tea