Yesterday Morning

 

The day is making something

of itself already.

It's gloomy and the crows banter.

There was a truck that pulled 

out of the driveway

and almost hit a woman and her kid.

With no remorse, the truck continued down the way.

~Tina Meeks

Sleep Deprived

 

Hands and mouth circled my body

like a shark,

and I was the prey.

I closed my eyes to pretend to be alone

or away from where I was at that moment.

Opening my eyes,

I'm was sitting on the couch.

Blinking, I inhaled the remnant of scent

from hair that rubbed against the couch cushion.

How long will it linger before

never coming back?

~Tina Meeks

Green

 

While they still reflect green,

I only hope it's not a dream,

or that it's not only a projection of

what I want to believe.

When I'm here, I only want

to paint a picture of 

what is around me and 

let my mind take hold and lead in a direction that can make sense somehow.

Exaggerate and pretend that what I see

is something else and loveable 

when really,

there is no emotion attached whatsoever.

~Tina Meeks

Ain't I Sweet?

 

I can feel my own soft magic.

My own tender touch and whisper.

I hold poise between my teeth

and tough decisions deep between

the coarse crevices of my cracked skin.

My wrath is sweet like honey

and I control when

to release the bee sting with it.

~Tina Meeks

Consent is Sexy

 

We Waltz around our words together

which is a familiar past time

ringing prominent in my hands.

Draping over my chest,

holding onto my dignity and 

carefully allowing a new chapter to

be created before me.

I think I sway and shuffle.

You... maybe a Salsa,

and we somehow meet in the middle on rhythm

for a moment until continuing

our own solo y sola.

This is something we speak not on,

it only lays at our feet to decide for itself

when to peak.

I wanna know what your skin feels like

without touching you.

I don't know what I am 

other than what I feel.

And who are you in this world?

You must exist beyond this realm

-you told me of the iridescence in your dreams.

How dessert fell right in front of you 

for one reason or another

and you were open to the taking.

Your nerves have exposed themselves.

We have been rearranged into a position

to ask for permission.

And yes, baby, we have the permission slip

right in my hand.

All you gotta do is grab it.

You will then have permission

to give me slow hands (if they're clean).

Let me feel your grown out hair on my stomach,

or your caress at my kneecap.

Stroke my toes how you wish

and play with my fuzz

that won't fit in a ponytail.

This moment hasn't happened.

These happenings are shy and stuffed

under our sleeves 

for no one to see until

the sleeves are not worn.

~Tina Meeks

...

Melt me with your voice.

Spoil me with compliments

or teasing,

because I wanna get led in a direction

where I have no choice but to choose. 

I'd like to see our fair skin intertwine

and play tricks on me

'til I don't know who's who.

-Our lips, awkwardly divulge stories

and telling secrets

we'd otherwise guess.

I wonder if this dance would tell us something

and I'm curious if our legs would accidentally graze.

Maybe then, we'd have another routine.

~Tina Meeks

Haypress

 

Disappearing into the brush
yet, far from alone
It's enjoyable just being here
and knowing the creating is endless

My nerves get the best of me

A blue-haired juggler with a dog
bikes in
followed by a slender lady in glasses 
with focus

We've all come to rest the mind
and witness the murder of crows
and conspiracy of ravens
in addition to
other unknown birds with unexplainable sounds
and intangible sun behind the trees 

The mindless skilled nature
presses into my memories
like pressed flowers in books

Every breath is a distraction 
from movement that is excessive
and echoes from San Francisco not far

From where I'm sitting, the trees have sacrificed
themselves to maintain a pod
of sanctuary and shield from the television
of sky with acrobatic clouds
and the sound pollution from other cities

I'm too shy to strike up conversation
with the tiny tweets
and ferns that sway
There's enough wind to chill
my uncovered legs and wish I had
longer socks

This place communicates on its own
by the branches ability to sign language
and leaves with a trace

The sun begins to move behind the hilltops 
and air, more still

The first breath is to accept
the natural embodiment of an alternative home

Breathe again and allow for a journey
that can't be predicted
and disconnecting may mean,
the strongest connection that can
possibly be powered in the dark

Another breath to remember the way dirt smells
How vines and whatever these trees are,
compliment each other

Breathe again

See what happens next

~Tina Meeks