Friday, October 24, 2014

What moves YOU? By The Political Bellydancer: GRAINS OF GRATITUDE

for every time society made me feel my thighs were too large or my breasts were too small or my stomach not flat enough i plant a grain of gratitude to remember my strength.
these strengths grow strong and tall with reflecting petals.
thighs that have carried me through life's beautiful moments across the far corners of the world.
breasts that fed lives and swelled with the knowledge of what they were made for.
a stomach that has expanded for birth and rolled with laughter, ached with pain, bearing the marks of my womanhood.
bearing the marks of reality.

for every time a man has made me feel less than worthy.
my eyes shone too bright or my laughter rang too loud or my my wit responded too quickly i plant a grain of gratitude to remember my equality.
this equality will dig its roots deep down into the soil anchoring my place into the earth.
eyes that have seen wonders of the world.
laughter that cemented friendships and bonded my heart to all of yours.
wit that is flashy and quick and cheeky, flirting with infinite possibilities.

for every time a woman has cast a disapproving glance towards another woman i will plant a grain of gratitude.
only through mistakes do we learn.

the garden of eden, the love of eve, is bubbling forth with life.
over flowing with the passionate solidarity of the feminine divine.
may these grains of gratitude grow in all of your souls and all of your children's souls uniting the world in love.
uniting the world in movement.

© Eva El Beze
October 24, 2014

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

NaPoWriMo day 30 poem 30: MEXICAN STANDOFF

for the record it is not i deciding who is or who is not insignificant.
it is not i forcing my fathers hand, or rather, forced my fathers hand, past tense, for laying his claims on his trivial pursuits.
deja vu.
none of it really matter once you are gone.

for the record i just want to be left alone.
i just want to disappear.
worry about you.
worry about your junk filled excuse of a child.
worry about how you may be treated when your mother dies, hopefully what goes around does not come around.
worry about the truth.
the truth not only sets us free.
it leaves us lonely.
wondering where we went wrong.
the truth hurts.

for the record i am invoking justice.
i am setting him free.
life is too short to stop for garbage rotting in the alley.
life is too long when authenticity is twisted into a lie and spat back out as reality.

for the record that mantra is nothing new.
we have been faithful to it since 87.
when psychic TV brought it back from kathmandu and asked:
are you experienced?
drying up all my tears.
that works out to twenty six years.
not two and a half.

for the record lucifer was also an angel.
fallen from grace.
to nothing.
seeking sympathy.
grasping at what never was.
sound familiar?

© Eva El Beze
A[ril 30, 2014

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

NaPoWriMo day 29 poem 29: CIVILIZED ANTHROPOID

we humans are a disgusting species of animal.
we rape women, sometimes in groups, turning the blame on the victim.
labeling them with our own shame.
she asked for it.
we molest children.
in cunning, sneaking, secretive ways.
we insure they do not tell our dark secrets.
we insure to imprison them.
slaves to abuse.
we hate one another for the most trivial offenses.
we are willing to kill in the name of god.
we are so pro life murder is the only answer.
we eat anything we deem less important.
less worthy.
soon, maybe, we will eat each other.
we are consumed with consuming.
we are proud to be better than the person standing next to us.
we have no regard for life.
we are so smart we do not need to fix our problems.
we will simply find a new planet to move to, and in time, destroy that too.
we will learn to survive without water.
we will learn to no longer need oxygen.
we will create a synthetic tree to silence the tribes crying for their forests.
we are geniuses, despicably diverse, outrageously obsessed.
we can always procreate a new species and become that.
we can always terminate ourselves and begin anew.

© Eva El Beze
April 29, 2014

Monday, April 28, 2014

NaPoWriMo day 28 poem 28: DREAMING SUCCESS

i desire a fantasy hallucination.
i desire a speculative pipe dream.
i desire thought.
i desire delusion.
i desire the impossible.

never say never.

the view from the castle in the air will put you in a trance.
the chimera is coming to whisk you away.

i desire flying colors.
i desire beds of roses.
( thorns optional )
i desire grand slams of profit.
i desire fame.
i desire attainment.

never say never.

the savvy fortune will make you a killing.
the achievement is coming to display progress.

i desire this dreaming success.

© Eva El Beze
April 28, 2014

Sunday, April 27, 2014

NaPoWriMo day 27 poem 27: MOKSA

my uncle called them kings with straw mats.
my father called them wandering souls.
enlightened in the mystic.
i just call them beautiful.
cocoa coffee skin dusted in duni ash.
long locks woven with mystery.
knotted up into sacred secrets.
flowing long and forever from way up high in the himalayas.
but the eyes.
the eyes looking past me.
over me.
through me.
down into my soul causing an uncomfortable tingle.
tell me my fortune.
whisper my destiny.
i may not take heed but i will believe you.
the kumkum powder burns my eyes, tickles my nostrils and when i look again you have vanished.
back into the fire.
back into the mantra.
back into my third eye.
it was always me.
all of them were always me.
showing another possibility.
showing another ghat to go and cleanse myself.
start new......
my uncle called them kings with straw mats.
my father called them wandering souls.
i just call them beautiful.

© Eva El Beze
April 27, 2014

Saturday, April 26, 2014

NaPoWriMo day 26 poem 26: CALIFORNIA CAJOLE

it is only a dream i refuse to wake up from.
i can see it and i must believe it can see me.
waiting patiently.
waiting for me to believe in me.
rather than in, it.
waiting for action.
it is only a dream.
but i am, after all, a dreamer.

© Eva El Beze
April 26, 2014

Friday, April 25, 2014

NaPoWriMo day 25 poem 25: OMEN OF PRECIPITATION

what if every time it rained a small part of me was washed away?
like dirt turning to mud, turning to tiny rivers of murky water no one notices running down the cracks in the sidewalk.
no one has any use for.

what if every time the sky was grey it reflected in my eyes?
cloudy storms full of fog and mist obscuring my face.
a ghost coming through the whirlwind to haunt your beliefs.
questioning your truth.

the flash on a camera pops.
blinding me.
binding my shadow permanently onto the wall behind me.
leaving pieces of Eva, broken and wounded, across all of these cities.
think hiroshima with a touch of butoh.


the dusk is creeping forward.
crawling ever so slowly out of the sunset into the twilight.
there it is.
phantom white.
displaying absurdly grotesque imagery.
playing with you.
testing you.
and i move ever so slowly.
painted white.....

a flash of lightning.
a boom of thunder.
light mist begins to fall picking up intention.
fat succulent drops hit.
the makeup runs down my throat onto my shirt.
the washing away births my disappearance.
i am vanishing.
lost in molecular atoms hurtling to earth.
frozen in the ruins.

© Eva El Beze
April 25, 2014