Tag Archives: shrine

Individuality of One


tigra

I don’t want to teach.  I don’t want a leech.  I don’t want you hanging over my head like a gorgeous chandelier.  I don’t want you knowing anything about my severe bipolar gears.  I don’t want your arm wrapped around mine.  I don’t pine when impermanence is exorbitant and stands like an almighty saint on my shrine.

I don’t want every moment to be bursting of sunrays.  I don’t want to use you for every essay.  I don’t want your breath around me twenty-four hours a day.  I don’t want any part of your happiness or your pity party or blame.  I don’t want to share our pains and heavy existential hurricanes.  I don’t want to be the “ex” to your exclaim.

I’m not into pacts by blood or marriages and certificates.  I’m not into the mothering and the smothering of willingness.  I’m not into decreasing my space into a tiny box to suit anyone or anything because I am ubiquitous.  I’m not into cuddles that make a person feel connected to humanity.  I’m not into systems manufacturing normality.  I’m not into turning a blind eye to lesser insanities.

I’m not into him and hers and the chest of drawers.  I’m not into sacrificing my time and energy for you and yours.  I’m not into folklore when trying to coexist has been known to set across great wars.  I’m not into careless tongues that mouth everything undone. I’m not into romantic love and the drug it promises only once you dare to plunge.  I’m not into the togetherness of us, but the individuality of one.

Pennington

Qualm


I showered one night and lathered up in the unchanged way I always do, half grudgingly and the other with methodical certainty from bulky arms, to bursting bosoms, to pooch belly, to smooth waist, to entity vagina, to voluptuous thighs until I came across my calve, a steel rock of will and sheer determination.

This became the day I questioned every exhausting set of every draining rep of cruel years spent on sculpting, limping and wincing through the Charlie Horses that arrived to visit me in the tragedy of over stimulating nights to walk every line to put every ounce of life in training to win every fight.

So why did I pull away abruptly?  Why did I fall back on my training approach? How could I fear exactly what I’ve desired the most?  Diamonds that would climb the circumference of a quad and cut as appealing and wicked as ice. Polished for the world to know how I strong I am by how much pain and anguish bore within this delightful body of mine.

I’m reminded of how I want to grow into where my mind and my heart and my spirit of power will take me.  I want to cast out all the words, shocked faces and expressions to ill me of what I accomplish and of who I am.  I look to you, a statue of greatness, a shrine of eternal internal faith and a sudden shift in the atmosphere of the subconscious.

-Pennington©

Separation



tired of overlooking
the things i desire
the willingness to get through
the infinite doors of my mind

i have been so kind
i have built thee shrines
i have portraits of you
in the seams of the middle of my pussy
i have photographs of you
on the bottoms of my feet
i’ve bruised my back
carrying your burdens
while offering you sweets

i’ve been tired of you, of life
what separates dimensions of a universe
what light and dark
can do in and out
a billion shades

what a hallow thing
we create only to fade
a shadow of you
a shadow of me
what do we have?
a bit of laws and math

the darkness combs
i slip into nothingness
an apparition
not in this world
or another

-pennington©