Mother Daughter Healing Love
This piece was written within the Emerge NYC Residency based out of NYU that I am currently enrolled in. It was during our intensive week yesterday, during the writing workshop with Actress/ Poet Pamela Sneed.
This may be developed into a 3 part theater movement vignette during our show at La Mamas on June 24th.
Here's a sneak peak. Enjoy!
Title: Eroticism cracks me open and heals me whole.
c/o Sacred Walker
Eroticism is laying on my momma's belly
Her super clean while cluttered one bedroom apartment in Crown Heights Brooklyn
Holding one another
As the images of the television flicker in the window
Breaking into fraggled light particles
Sneaking past the steel black window guard
Keeping thieves and light out
Listening to her light filled breath
In & out
Healthy again
Cool
My hot head and soft baby hairs stroked by her thinly lined
finger tips
Giggling
To the season finale of
"Once upon a time"
Screaming "Emma, why won't you just believe."
Fantasy real- OUR Church on a Sunday night
No words just warmth
Brown arms wrapped around
One another in our street clothes
My mom's pet peeve overlooked
It's like a prayer
Love MaGniFied.
She
No longer scared of my gayness rubbing off
Thoughts melt in the heat of the brim of summer
Fear bugs scurry under the bed of what she might catch in between
her soft
Baby blue sheets
When I leave.
Fear monster tucked under the bed- temporarily forgotten.
All that matters now is
Ear to heart
Lips to navel
Breathe to breathe
The clutter of old wounds
And gay stereotypes
melt away
as we get lost in TV fantasy
Love in mother daughter bonds renewed
Off screen
Erotic Love
Eroticism cracks me open
&
Heals me whole.
This may be developed into a 3 part theater movement vignette during our show at La Mamas on June 24th.
Here's a sneak peak. Enjoy!
Title: Eroticism cracks me open and heals me whole.
c/o Sacred Walker
Eroticism is laying on my momma's belly
Her super clean while cluttered one bedroom apartment in Crown Heights Brooklyn
Holding one another
As the images of the television flicker in the window
Breaking into fraggled light particles
Sneaking past the steel black window guard
Keeping thieves and light out
Listening to her light filled breath
In & out
Healthy again
Cool
My hot head and soft baby hairs stroked by her thinly lined
finger tips
Giggling
To the season finale of
"Once upon a time"
Screaming "Emma, why won't you just believe."
Fantasy real- OUR Church on a Sunday night
No words just warmth
Brown arms wrapped around
One another in our street clothes
My mom's pet peeve overlooked
It's like a prayer
Love MaGniFied.
She
No longer scared of my gayness rubbing off
Thoughts melt in the heat of the brim of summer
Fear bugs scurry under the bed of what she might catch in between
her soft
Baby blue sheets
When I leave.
Fear monster tucked under the bed- temporarily forgotten.
All that matters now is
Ear to heart
Lips to navel
Breathe to breathe
The clutter of old wounds
And gay stereotypes
melt away
as we get lost in TV fantasy
Love in mother daughter bonds renewed
Off screen
Erotic Love
Eroticism cracks me open
&
Heals me whole.
* Disclaimer: This post is not an endorsement of any particular belief system, and more so shares creative opinions. This cannot be redistributed without the written permission of the author of this blog. This report is an op-ed piece, and encourages those specifically seeking more info to to make the most informed decisions from a wide range of perspectives, with this as one of many. I encourage those seeking it to find the best fit for your unique needs. I hope this piece is both informative and enjoyable.
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