Going beyond skin-deep beauty, Groom & Bloom is a room for growth – a place to learn not only creative ways to dress up and highlight our best features, but also a discussion on gracing the natural assets each of us are born and blessed with.
This is my first big assignment for my writing class last semester, and this is the final result. It’s about a coming-of-age lady told in a metaphoric language, and the butterfly is the supposed end-result. Anyway, this poem can be read in 3 ways: Straight-on top to bottom, the bold lines, and the not bold lines. Enjoy.
- Image courtesy of hay blog hay via Tumblr
They say: Grow up.
Find your meaning. Read between the lines
to become beautiful, you must scrub, exfoliate, moisturize
within, there lies a budding potential; a diamond so bright, waiting to be discovered.
I do, all of it, but still don’t feel comfort under this skin.
What is my purpose? Where are my wings? I can’t see it.
I can only feel my scratchy eyes and sandy surface eroding away.
The more they peel, the more I become abrasive, my soul untouched
While I can’t move this way or that way, a lady-like position doesn’t allow my body to move an inch
I asked the grown-ups: Does my shell protects, or am I in a bubble of lies?
I moved.
Then I hear them say:
“We protect you so in time, you can effervesce each flutter as you fly.”
“It’s a growing firmness.” Resilience crystallize, breaking apart the shell, uncovering my light
It was an alluring cadence, my move. But of age I have to come, I discover.
It’s dusty skin-deep, but don’t lose sight, I affirm. In a moment you’ll be there,
where I don’t have to migrate, where I don’t need to move an inch, where I can call home, I settled.
the turning over of greener leaf, of where I depart from my old skin
torn here and there, this way and that way, now
spreading my wings – tattered things, flaws my folks considered beautiful.
For beauty: Grow up, I say
rinsing my dewy gem of eternal bliss.
♥
Muchaluva,
Stace.
Bowwow
POETRY
February 2012
Just a little something for our writing class. Says we’re supposed to describe our soul. I thought of mine, I thought of my beloved, I elaborated the whole idea, and this is the result. Don’t laugh. But that’s how I feel~
jumping from pillow to pillow
giggles. I wiggle and jiggle my tail -
it tickles me.
At this high, I yearn for a fellow
to give for, of myself, at those pillows I throw
‘tis running Spirit belongs to my beloved Master
but it desires to come out and play! “Woof! Woof!” I want to feel alive!
I dream of a furry boy of my kind
who smells and feels bigger than my own
I get all soft in this bubbly air.
What huge rear!
What big ears!
And that wagging tail!
My Master sees through me, I pass the bone to this man;
all my helpings into his bowl. I drool.
Sharing is good, My Master once said. I share
in hopes that his protruding, pronounced nose would sniff back to
where it belongs – locked with mine, his my key.
I see him. He sees me. “Woof! Woof!”
Master kisses me softly, “Confidence, little one,” in my ears
I jitter. “Play with him. Have fun!”
We played in the bushes, wrestle and fondle our bodies -
we made it through the rainy day.
I’m your bitch, I bark. He licks my face
cushions his nose on mine. It felt warm while it’s cold
like a fallen raindrop nestling on the tip of my nose.
“Woof! Woof!”, he says. “Wife! Wife!”
His tail pointing at me as the first golden rays begin to arouse
‘tis feeling, it tickles me, our tails tangle as a spoonful of spaghetti;
I snuggle in his belly, he cuddles all of me
Our souls become one.
We are home. Me and him
and the Master of our little souls.
Stace
Haikus to ponder upon for the week
POETRY
A haiku is a kind of poetry originated from Japan. Traditionally, a haiku consists of 17 syllables in total, usually in the order of 5, 7, 5 syllables a line. this week, I attempt to write 3 haikus following that rule.
Caught in the Moment
He glanced; she looks up
Her eyes smiled, she says, “Hello!”
and the world stops spinning.
Evening Run
Gold rays fade to pink
Flowing. One, two foot flutters
to the finish line.
Tea Time
Honey and lemon
in steamed water turned green —
Higher consciousness
Muchaluva,
Stace
Twinkle, twinkle
POETRY
Maybe I’m slim
But not as light
My soul is dim
You make me bright
You push me right
You pull me tight
This distant star that I am
Chances are
I am merely a fleeting thought
A figment of your wildest imagination
But here I am
Still alive and shining
Made for you
Made of love
You and me
Together we shine
Like the golden rays of sunshine
Glowing and growing.
Muchaluva,
Stace
Food fuels goods
PROSE
An apple a day keeps the doctor far away
A cabbage soup a day keeps the nurse away too
While chocolate a day keeps the therapist away
When life gives you lemons, make a lemonade!
And a handful of nuts is when life gives you nuts!
So keep stress at bay and wake up fresh each day,
Have your oatmeals the first meal for the day
Before your wholesome health seizes the day!
Muchaluva,
Stace