Showing posts with label beautiful struggle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label beautiful struggle. Show all posts

Saturday, March 04, 2017

poetry session


When She Speaks…


You realize
There was no other way to convey it
No other way for it to have played out
The way it did…
Divine Order… is what it is…
The excruciation and the
Sedation
Derived from broken hearts and
Cataclysmic devastation
Caused you to fall apart from what he did…
Gradually accepting the gravity of what is…
Not only did you fall apart at the seams
It seems you also broke open the unseen
Seeing your reflection that needed self love more than anything
A love with deeper connection like maternal ancestral beings
A love that never asks or demands attention
A love that is unattached yet deep-seated in wisdom
When She Speaks…
You have nothing to do… but listen…

Let Her Speak…
In fact… ALLOW her room…
Create her space in you…
Let her voice resonate
Her aura assimilate
Let love recreate new patterns for you
Let love in and rewrite stories for you…
Realize that all those poems he asked you to write are unfinished
Because… you needed to complete the countless anthologies about you, first…
Immerse and baptize in her energy and hindsight
Revitalize the memory on what it’s like to feel alive
What it’s like to strive towards realization from our fantasies
Manifestation from our majesty

Speak your being into existence
When She Speaks…
Tell the stories about the ever changing landscape
Of your mind state
The geography of your heart space
And the journeys that your breath takes
How you loved yourself out of those tight spaces and comfortable places
How you zoned in on higher elevation
And drew from feminine divination
Tell those stories of healing from excavation as commemoration
How your soul birthed tears from pain and laceration
Your bruised wombs from miscarriage to… carrying out our choice
Both carry insurmountable weight
And often times the pain becomes voice-less
Emanicpate… and Let Her Speak…
Give voice to all the parts of you that were afraid of judgment
In this world of being a woman in this patriarchal endorsement
Realize that you are a walking revolution
Make third eyes intensify and are the basis for evolution
The very stride of your step…And rise of your breast
Petrify and sadly enough are found reason enough for persecution
They try to silence your shine
Disqualify… under-qualify
Over sexualize and lay claim to our own bodies
Objectify regardless of how WE identify
Vilify our motives when we’re asked why WE are not smiling
Conditioned to nullify our power
Silenced when we are OVERpowered
Shamed as victims of rape
But when we let Her speak, we keep on surviving…
Rise from the places of darkness and low
Give voice to the parts of you that SCREAMED NO!
The parts of you that fought back SO LOUDly
NO one was ALLOWED to get lost in translation
Yet forced you into a box of victimized damnation
Let Love Speak… and redefine these societal narrations
It is NOT your fault… allow her to ignite sensations
Of healing into your being
Feel that when you are in receipt of weakness
These are moments or catalysts
These are opportunities to realize
It is your own majesty that you are seeing
Your own reflection is enough meaning
Ascended…
From past scars of healed broken hearts…
From cancer treated wombs and breasts
To caesarian section marked pelvises
To stretch marked tigress stripes
To vast spectrums of melanin types
From unexpected loss
Of lost daughters, Indigenous or not
Of aunts, of mothers, sisters and friends…
Risen…
Like the Phoenix with ashes in our midst
United with Spirit and strengthened from within
We are the Divine Feminine Collective…
When we heal ourselves
We heal generations
Realize…
When we seek the restorative speech
To bequeath our healing
Onto our soul and spiritual physique
We. Do. Not. Stutter.
We re-write new codes for our daughters
And bestow our maternal ancestors reprieve
Look to the future with our ability
To grow seeds
Instead of money trees
Because we manifest abundance within our very own being
Lead revolutions that house cadence to our everyday needs
Find absolution and penance within our very own vulnerability…

So…
Listen…
When She Speaks…
Allow healing to put together the fragments
Be still without becoming stagnant
Move forward and trust in advancement
Dissolve destructive patterns… no need for re-enactment
Live life with the Divine commandments
Be forgiving with whatever happens
Honor yourself with your beautiful unapologetic talents
Let go and release negative attachment

Step into your power and know
That it was and is ALREADY yours
Source confirms its origin
And found its course in you…
Be true and continue to undo
The triggers life conditioned you to pursue
Make anew
Create renewed purpose and be driven
With a new definition and feeling of being complete
And know
That
When She Speaks

You are always there… to listen…




-j.jimenez
March 2017


Wednesday, March 27, 2013

poetry session


We Survive.


Does it hurt you more
Than it hurts me
To call me a bitch under your breath
While crossing the street…
Or rather, over the phone
Over a computer screen to save face
Where you stay within your
Cowardice space…
Making complaints about
What I did or did not say
What I wore the night before
Or the choices that I’ve made to avoid your callous pathways
I get it
It’s rather easy
To slander my femininity
Without having a sense of accountability
To reach for far lesser inferior meanings
From what it is and what it’s like…
What it means to be a queen

Does it hurt you more
Than it hurts me
To call me a ho just to aggress
Gearing up for war
Stabbing spears in my heart
And aiming bullets at my chest
Burning scarlet letters on my breast
These same breasts that nursed your sons
That provided nourishment in pure excess
These same breasts that you sucked, licked and caressed
That possess the suppleness and the raw
That express a rise and a fall
Whether I assess to ride dicks or walk tall
That same movement now suppressed
When required to wear a bra

Does it hurt you more
Than it hurts me
To see me and view me as
A cavity to deposit seeds
Seeping from your phallic physicality
Bearing sons to promote family name longevity
While miscarrying daughters
Wiping away, decimating matriarchal legacy
Do you realize what it's like?
To possess the powerful ability
To harness life
Two beings, one shell
Individual yet indivisible
Does it hurt you more than it hurts me?
I think not.
When you're being laid upon that table
Being told you won't feel a thing
When really the emotions inside
Mimic the instruments
That cut away and scrape in quick and succinct
Ways and motions
Vacuuming up remnants of a being that was to become your own
Fuck the arguments of stages: multi-cellular organism vs. embryo vs. human
You were my own
And for whatever reason
Were taken away from me
You were my own
And ironically,
This table...
This tidal zone of emotions,
Where other women exercise their freedom of choice
Is the same place where I come to wear the burden of mine
The burden of not having to choose you…
My own

Does it hurt you more than it hurts me?
I don’t think so.
Because we... transpose…
There is pain behind everything that is beautiful
And wherever there is pain there is strength
And whatever strength I uphold comes from a previous beautiful struggle
Yes…
We women struggle
But whatever the platform of
Degenerate interjections
It will always fall on no longer deaf ears
But open hearts and fruitful minds...
That house revolutionary cadence
To which we hold our heads high
We steady the pace
While still maintaining grace
Take care of living spaces
While STILL working a 9 to 5

Yes…
We women struggle
And better yet…
We survive.


-j.sanjuan