Poetry

Poems and spoken word embody some of Sara’s most captivating storytelling. 

 

In the mood for soulful stories and enthralling sounds?

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Prefer to read some poetry? Please  enjoy!

                                                                   

Labyrinth

Tortured twists and Bewildering turns,

This Maze of Destiny, like fire does burn.

Unforeseen blessings, Moments of joy,

Beauty and Despair…the pawns of Her ploy?

Destiny is Character, is God, is Chance?

The Ending encoded or happenstance?

Struggling to find the Way,

Our Path remains obtuse,

Moral compass of limited use.

Choice is obscure,

We walk by Faith, by Love, by Fear.

Lessons to learn in this Grand Design.

History to walk,

Mountains to climb,

A Universal Puzzle of Space and Time.

The Path lit by confusion,

Frustrated Sojourners led by Illusion.

Blue Prints obscured in Ancient Code.

 Hearts try to translate,

Minds flex as we fuss,

Intuition implores us to trust.

Holy Books preach,

Religions map out a route,

But the Folly of Men enshrouds us in Doubt.

Our Spirit as Guide, we trek through the pain,

Abandoning Ignorance, as Wisdom we gain.

The Final Destination many say they can see:

Destined for Bondage or Saved and Set Free?

I know for certain I’ve been here before,

On a night like tonight, on the very first floor.

Around the next corner, will I encounter the Door?

The most puzzling enigma we are meant to explore:

Only after our Exit from the Maze can its meaning be accounted for.

So, we continue trudging dimly through Knowledge and Grace,

By Trial and Error, we create a Map to the Divine Resting Place.

But the irony of Destiny, is everyone reaches the Final Race.

No matter how cruel or loving their Pace.

For as we all entered into this Maze,

We will all exit one day–to our Maker to face. 

 

Love is in the Details

Love is in the details—like grand writing, or God.

Love always Prevails

When you refuse to surrender, how can you fail?

Love holds tight, but also lets go

It yearns to protect, but wants you to grow

Love gives for pleasure, not for show

It’s shown in those ways you must pay attention to know

It’s pure and hard like second day snow

When he calls you by the name only both of you share

Looks deep in your eyes and can’t help but stare

You know Love is there

Calls to ask if you made it, just cause he cares

When he feels vulnerable, doesn’t put on airs

Would rather walk away then cause you more tears

Love isn’t always steady and though it may wane

With care and attention, it can be regained

Though sometimes weak, it will bend but won’t break

For Love, like you and me, sometimes makes a mistake

We can learn of its beauty through Love’s heartbreak

If we see the value of Love before it’s too late

Love is Truth, so it can’t be faked

Love is free, you don’t have to give to take

There is nothing so intense as lost Love’s ache

When he shows up in the morning with coffee your way

If he comes to the door with your favorite wine

Takes note of your order to know for next time

It’s the care taken in the little things that make Love sublime

If you missed it the first time, I’ll repeat the line:

Love is in the details

Passion flames fiercely, but its inferno consumes

It feeds on itself til it emits deadly fumes

Chemistry is pure electricity,

Nerve endings charged,

 hormones spark luscious felicity

complicated feelings dissolve into simplicity

but in reality, it’s a chemical complicity

Not a solid basis for a blissful domesticity

Love is the development of countless subtle gestures

You might not take notice at first

But then he repeats your favorite line,

You think, “ I guess he was listening the entire time”

He goes for your bag, your box, or your door

You could do it yourself, like you’ve always done before

But suddenly you realize it’s a pleasure, not seen as a chore

It thrills him to lend a strong hand to the one he adores

Time and time again he always makes sure

To offer you help you don’t even ask for

By being there through these silent times

Love builds its rapport

I don’t mean to sound like a bore,

I know I’ve already said it twice before,

But it’s the truth, so I’ll say it once more:

Love is in the details.

There’s a Voice

As you walk, an urban symphony plays­­ 

A sound track to your distressed days 

Discouraged melodies with cognitive dissonance dance 

Preconceived notions and a judgmental glance 

Negative thoughts hypnotize you into a trance.

  

Why do those that know the least, tend to talk the most?

Those that lack confidence, be the first to brag and boast? 

 As if counting your sins somehow makes them a saint, 

As if calling you less makes them great.

But I’ll tell you a secret that many don’t want you to know

The way to make your freedom and your success grow

Be the master of your own thoughts, your own mind, your own soul and your own time

Controlling your own mind is the key to being self directed, self empowered, self confident and free

You see… there’s a Song that lives deep inside, 

An inspiring Sonata orchestrated from On High 

If you kill the noise and silence the critics 

I promise you too will hear it.

 

 Springing from the Source that binds us in Love 

Singing: just the way you are, you are good enough 

 So Kill the noise and silence the critics, connect to the Higher Spirit, 

Can you feel it?

 

 The Life Force is pulsing, playing a concert of Power

Energy invigorates and the voice grows louder 

 You speak in tongues of laughter and love. 

Endlessly Growing, It’s a new way of knowing

Higher than our limited human mind— 

Infinitely compassionate and kind. 

It tells the Truth, so pay their dramas no mind.

 

 

 Silence the world and hear it sing the wisdom of all Creation 

Knowledge so vast, it’s beyond linguistic interpretation 

If you want to know your mission,

Just SHUT UP and Listen

It’s really that simple to channel your intuition

 

There’s a voice,

And when you‘re silent, you can hear it.

The distractions of the world will tell you to fear it.

 But… Life’s  a game there’s a million ways to play, 

Follow their rules or you’ll lose is what they’ll say,

 

 But kill the noise, and Go your own way

If you want answers, Sit down and pray 

Believe in yourself, Step out on Faith

 Knowing  you own the best things in life without having to pay:

I own my heart and my mind, my soul and my time.

 

 

 There’s a voice inside and the more you listen 

The more you’ll hear it, 

Then you’ll start to feel 

Until you’re talking to God with every word you speak

It’s a simple but divine technique

 

 There’s a voice

And to listen is your choice 

So silence the world and kill the noise.

Be yourself, with grace and poise.

 There’s a Voice

And to use it is your choice,

So speak your Truth 

Even if they think you rude

Walk and Talk your Truth

Even when they think you uncouth.

 There’s a voice

and it sings the ancient song of you

And that’s more than enough, it’s your Destiny

A celebration of everything you were created and meant to be.

This I Pledge

You can keep your diamonds,

Dogs are girl’s true best friend.

Go ‘head and deny it, but I’ll swear ‘til the end.

The bling might make you feel fancy, look rich and classy,

But diamonds aren’t forever.

Not like the strong bond you build with a dog that’s lifelong.

 

What does a shiny rock do for you…

Glisten in sunlight and fade in the shadows?

My boy woulda marched alongside me into the gallows.

 

His sparkle never dimmed when the sun gave way to the dark.

Me and my Jack Russell-Chihuahua mutt hanging in the park,

The dog days of summer sweating us hard.

My sweet boy—he was all heart.

 

Puppy kisses attack my chin, showing affection and begging attention

I still feel your touch, its torture, call the Geneva Convention!

 

Your wet nose nudges my hand to signal its belly rub time.

My pink-nosed, shiny-eyed partner in crime.

You have no idea what mountains I’d climb,

And dragons I’d slay to have you nuzzled against my ribs, drifting to sleep as I lay.

 

The more days that pass, the less that I’m sure

That one day I’ll heal from the wound in my soul that you tore.

Memories ripped open, seeping all over the floor—

I’m unable to scrub the stain from the pain and the gore.

 

It happened so fast, I turned my head and you were gone,

No time to grow old gracefully, forever young.

 

When I rescued you I knew instinctively, you’d end up saving me.

 

Now that the white fur that once blanketed the house has disappeared,

And it’s been so long since my fingers have tickled your beard,

They don’t understand and they sneer and they jeer that, “She’s weird”

For still being twisted, on the edge of tears.

After all, it was last year.

But our bond is for life—and if I have my way even more.

I don’t know what the next journey after this ephemeral life has in store.

But I promise to return all the loyalty and love you effortlessly gave

When we meet again in another dimension, beyond the grave,

And I bury my face in the fur of your neck, breathe in your spirit and give you a peck.

 

So honorable and loving a soul I may never again on this earth see,

But in the afterlife of forever, Chico…

I pledge this: it’s you and me. 

How Boring Would it Be?

I used to be an idealist,

then I went out on my own.

Now I’m left with a list-of-ideals

Aside from this very, real list,

I’m a realist. 

I’m into realism, because I real-ize, after being in the real world:

You can’t get away from the real “isms” 

Sexism

Classism

Then you have the “isms” the academics don’t study,

but in re-ality, are real “isms”:

Lookism

Weightism 

All this prejudgment

prejudices me against judgement.

 Can’t we  look and see; without having to disagree?

How about we agree, not to decree, how other people should be?

 If it’s different—don’t fear it.

You’ll never come to appreciate what you fear.

 

How boring would it be…

If men were always in charge?

If rich people always made the rules,

and poor people always did the work? 

If skinnier was always sexier?

If you could always foretell the quality of the gifts inside, just by looking at the box?

 If we always believed everything we saw on TV,

    agreed with everything we read in books?

If every time we opened our mouths, someone else’s words came out?

If ALWAYS, in ALL WAYS, things were the same? 

See, the problem is:

If you always look out the window of your exact same eyes,

—you’ll always see the exact same view.

How boring would that be?

 

What if you could be something more divine, than

always being most important?

Something more sublime

than always being right?

What if you could be…

Yourself?

Word By Word

A struggle I fight in various ways

To move, to grow, keep on the go

Maintain the flow

Money, Energy, Inspiration

Stay ahead, aheart, of the hateration

Obstacles don’t rest,

So neither will I

Avert the pressures-mark the spies

By spying the marks, talking their jive,

Trying to survive by messing with my vibe

 

Like I ain’t putting in overtime on overdrive

Just to keep my dream alive

To thrive on the inside

To elevate my whole tribe

So there’ll be no more

Working so hard—just to be poor

To get a foot in da door

Spreading blood, sweat and fears, like a capitalist whore

But I fear nothing-no more

If the only thing to fear is fear itself

I t stopped being useful—I put it on the shelf

I’ve paid my dues, gave of myself,

Where’s the recognition?

Scratch that—Where’s the wealth?

But having the wisdom, the education doesn’t mean they’ll give you your turn-

I’ve got brains, brawn and talent to burn

Yet they only want to focus on the face,

Only wanna see a woman in lace,

Use her up till there is no trace–

Of what a woman should be

I tell ‘em to back on up, cuz that’s not me

I have no interest in pleasing you to get what I need

Have no problem putting in the work it takes to be free,

I don’t owe you shit, so stop hawkin’ me

My pen is mightier than a sword

And I’ll use it to write my future—Word by Word

And one day the book of Sara will read,

“It was with an open mind, an open heart she undertook every deed,

Even with the use of violence

Her voice they could not silence-

So her soul they couldn’t corrupt

For she always stayed True—

And her Consciousness  did rise til her last day was through”

 

Mermaid

In a world of runners—

finely tuned calves, tense hamstrings,

lungs of steel endurance—

I am a mermaid.

I swim below the waters’ surface,

which once endeavored to submerge me until I could no longer breathe.

I grew a mermaid’s fin to escape the undercurrent

that refused to release it’s steel claw grasp.

I am a survivor.

Underneath, in my salty, hidden city ofAtlantis,

I am a lone citizen.

The lowliest of servants, most exalted of great thinkers—

I am everyone.

I long to run the races of life,

use my strong, horses’ legs to travel the prolific paths which circle and link worlds above.

But I am lost at sea;

a prisoner of its dark, uncharted depths.

This unyielding sea once fought to drown me,

but I grew fins.

I became a mermaid.

I am a survivor

For My Hero

You were born “Saleen”, such a beautiful name.

I don’t tell my brother named you after his favorite Mustang.

Holding you changed me inside.

Claiming you as my niece swells me with pride.

Hearing you say “My auntie” is a luscious high.

The way you look at me—those adoring eyes,

I swear, your little hug, so mighty, it would break the fiercest tide.

I remember being in college: young and wild.

A sabor picante: never mild.

Bursting with the unbridled curiousity of a child

I devoured life.

Spoke my mind.

With brio, sought out all the ideas I could find.

Was sure I knew it all,

with a mind like mine, I’d never fall.

Felt so strong and 10 feet tall

Loud and proud, quick to verbally brawl

Thought if your theory opposed mine

—your brain—like your experience— was small.

Then God sent me wisdom

in the form of a living doll.

She breathed, eyelashes fluttered.

I understood what Lauryn Hill meant when she uttered,

“I’ve never been in love like this before”.

Every time I thought it was full, my heart grew more.

Saleen, you taught me how much it could store.

More than my niece, you’re a fourth my kid.

I raised you as much as Grandma, my brother, and your mom did.

When you grow up kinda poor,

you really know, it takes a whole village to make a child grow.

Making you smile was the greatest happiness I could know.

Then decided, God, to even the score,

Gathered all the bad karma from all my lifetimes before.

And my sweet Saleen fell sick.

Hospitals, seizures, medication…

A childhood shouldn’t be so sad.

Guess in my previous life—I was really, really bad.

How can you face each day with so much strength and courage?

You’ll never know how you inspire and encourage.

Still just a baby,

yet so much stronger than me.

You blow me mind.

It breaks my heart, every time.

Wish I could make things easier for you,

but there’s only so much I can do.

And it’s never enough.

Like it or not, this disease makes your days rough.

At eight years old, you’re so fucking tough.

Now I see with new found clarity,

how selfish and petty I used to be.

How can I fear judgment or failure?

Let anything weak, like rejection or lack of belief,

get in the way of the success and love I seek?

My sweet baby, your struggle has made me so meek.

You’re facing death.

You laugh at pain.

It makes everything else, seem like a game.

My angel is dying.

What excuse can I ever have now, for not trying?

Oh God, you wouldn’t believe how humble I’ve become.

Or was that was your plan, all along…