At the Reading When Souls Rise: (for Kwame Dawes)"

his smile, a hint of male tiger

a tinge of seduction

lingering on his lips,

pursed as a pearl

that pause of dominance

deep, double deep melody

rising and falling between

airy breaths on sounds

rehearsed in the

play of the gods?

his poetry ran raw

and succulently sweet

distilling our universal

desires into seductive

metaphors we dream to live

and own in our bodies

his call, his presence

beckoned me—

my soul took flight

and fancy

a gentle, quiet applause—

he stopped-

he looked and said “thank you”
with his tiger smile

 Kat

19 January 2015  ©

Admiration

I will not be cheapened because

I laugh, smile

express myself in my most

feminine

allowing my sexual being to flow forth

and out onto my words,

exact, rich, full

with a hint of tease and

seduction

I will not be cheapened because

I walk with my body

lithe,

hips lean and

thighs slim

allowing me to feel sexy,

engaged in my womanliness,

confident,

whole and in joy.

I will not be cheapened because

others fear my presence

my bohemian self

for I have unleashed

my inner-most

sanctum

through my feminine

to myself

and into the Universe

I will not be cheapened because

of the insults, anger and criticism, I bare

with grace

holding love,
acceptance and respect

without shame
without guilt

with love and

admiration

Kat

16 January 2015  ©

In Peace

trees whisper to me

softly

skies peer through the stands--

a winter rainbow

sun blankets land

with brevity

lakes shimmer

icy deep

birds fly,

freely

my attention draws

stillness

I am at my center

in peace

Kat 

12 January 2015 ©

Edge Rider

I am the edge rider,

a lingerer on sills

a dripper on lids

droplets on

languishing leaves

in autumn before

that final gust, before

my host drops

to the ground.

I am the juice

that sustains all--

the rivers, oceans,  lakes, and

their dependents

who pray to keep me away

in ignorance

I am the edge, the center,

the heart rider.

I am rain.

Kat
11 January 2015  ©

Travelling

Trust--a rich word
has sacred sound
when rolled
upon the tongue
sloshed among
salivating juices
when let go
onto the ethers
elusive in its travels.

Kat
5 January 2015  ©

The Journey

Crawling into a ball
into sleep
avoiding aloneness
the fear
that joy and love
haunt the heart
as elusive orphans
wandering.

Sleep eludes.
the heart quiets
awakening to
another reality--
sleep minus
transformation
sleep awakens
the heart
to sameness.

Shifting
slightly.
rising
greeting a smile
upon her face
outward
embracing a moment--
grace
beauty in the journey.

Kat  
5 January 2015 ©