Your breath mingling with mine is absorbed into my weary heart. Blood freely flows in nourishment of my spirit, renewed. This little poem was inspired by the following lines from “Said the Shotgun to the Head” by Saul Williams. “When I can feel you breathing into me i, like a stone gargoyle atop some crumbling building, spring to life a resuscitated angel.” Continue reading A Moment, Turned Around
You breathe fire for the audience, a bravado thin as vellum. Behind your fingers a tongue waits it’s turn for celebrity asses and all gather round to roll the black ball. Continue reading Nepotism
“So this is what I will do. I will gather together my past and look. I will see a thing that has already happened. the pain that cut my spirit loose. I will hold that pain in my hand until it becomes hard and shiny, more clear. And then my fierceness can come back, my golden side, my black side. I will use this sharp pain to penetrate my daughter’s tough skin and cut her tiger spirit loose. She will fight me, because this is the nature of two tigers. But I will win and giver her my spirit, because … Continue reading Tigers
In a few days I’ll be closing this blog to make some changes. Every so often I get a bug up my butt and feel like shaking things up on the old blog, so there ya go. Some things I’m considering doing are: Changing the name from Zouxzoux to my name, Charlotte Hamrick. Making the first page static and having it be an “About” page. Making a page for photography. Hiding all the old poetry and only showing published work. Possibly keeping a page for miscellaneous blogging. I haven’t made up my mind on this yet. What do you think? … Continue reading Renovations
I’m sharing a little piece I wrote over on my other blog about some flash fiction I’ve recently read. I hope you’ll pop over and read it. Continue reading Hot Reads 8/31/14
You most likely need a thesaurus, a rudimentary grammar book, and a grip on reality. This latter means: there’s no free lunch. Writing is work. It’s also gambling. You don’t get a pension plan. Other people can help you a bit, but essentially you’re on your own. Nobody is making you do this: you chose it, so don’t whine. — Margaret Atwood Continue reading The Writing Life
Kick against the sun. The great generator, its spangles and chains. Belly into dusk the silence the still air the curve of trance. Let your shadow shimmy over the floor of the deep end. Mysterious. Cool. Like Jimi plucking steel strings with his teeth and spitting out stones. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Shared on dVerse Poets Pub, an online community where poets share their work and support each other. (image via) Continue reading the deep end
Water, condensed on the windows Like all the hopes in your gut that Never were released. Outside people Walk through the oppressiveness Intent on the busyness of their lives. A small flame flickers waiting To burn off the sludge. Continue reading Rise
You gave me acceptance when I was uncertain You gave me community when I felt alone You gave me creativity when I was blank You gave me a big, wide world of dversity Value Expression Rebellion Support Exuberance What more could a poet want? Happy 3rd Birthday to dVerse Poets Pub! dVerse has been a great source of inspiration for me with a great network of very supportive poets. They’re celebrating with a Poets Ball so why not hop on over there and visit a while? Continue reading The dVerse Ball and All
