scrolls - a confession

8/3/2019 Scrolls - A Confession

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Scrolls - A Confession

Scrolls and scriptswere written long agofor me to love youfrom when I saw my mom

in a dashiki dress to rocking a froto daddy with his full beard,bright colors and paintbrush

the family trips, nature walksYosemite, across the country, Gulf Coast to PeninsulaArt festivals, art classes, recording songs together

Taking pictures, lots of picturesof the skies, flowers, trees,my sister and meWe were flowersour cornrowed hair matched as did our clothesMom and daddy loved each other but problems growedSummer camps, graffitti, hip hop musicDaily watching Rap City and emulating the rappersI wanted to be Big Lez dancing, contorting my dark long limbsdelicately and gracefully to musicI was always an artistSought after and praisedFrom drawing, to writing, to singing, to dancingAnd I was bound to be magnetically drawn to an artistTogether we’d make a compilationOf jazz and blues, of hip hop and be bopTo Quincy Jones’ Back on the BlockTo Maxwell’s Urban Hang Suite

I felt music and color pulsating through my bodyBa bump, ba bump, ba bumpand when I met you it was like high hats and cymbals clashedYou were like the soul in my musicYou’re thoughts were like weed lifting me highI wanted to breathe your air and taste your caramel coffee

trickling down my throat

Wanted your beard to scratch my neck at you kissed it

I wanted your graffiti to spray my walls

and color them with your name

I wanted your poetry, your bass lines

to send me to chorusTo rise and fall with you

To paint the mountains of the Southwest

and create a civilization

ancient, deep oranges and burgundy colored,

spiritual, elevated physics

because of the physical act of

planting and bearing your seed



Your words and your word and your words

Kept hitting my eyes and ears in a way

none had ever hit them before

some made sense, some didn’t

I know not whether you’re illogical or

I’m dense but I’m captivated either wayYou were the person I always saw life with

All my dreams were you

All of them

From the moment I laid eyes on rich hues and textures

From the moment I heard the baritone voice from the east coast

From the moment I heard Arrested Developments Everyday People

I saw you being the man that would love me

and the man that I’d respect, honor, bow down to, serve

My children would have your face stamped on them

Your eyes, nose, lips

it was just supposed to happen like that

connected though not connected

i’m afraid to love and afraid to be hurt

though my deep waters trickle into a pool of affection for you

I wish for you to swim in them

baptized and immersed in that which will push you to stand

Make you king, make you reign, support your flight

you make me better, you teach me

humbled by all that you are and everything that you will be

wishing to kneel and pray with you

to see God with youinterlace ideas and thoughts like threads and fabric with you

glued together in mutual support like barnacles and a ship

becoming one with you

unity, union, community, family

i chuckle at the lack of logic

it doesn’t make sense to me now

but like my genetic code was penned before

my parents even met its like God and his immense

universe conspired for you and I to cross paths

and even when I try to go on a different road

I see you brush past me

your scent in my nose like frankincense and myrrh

i feel and act in irrational ways because I’m trying to make sense

of that which doesn’t

reconciling lust, love with belief

trying to reprogram one of those areas to make the peg fit the hole

it may even be humorous



to watch me perform in much of a circus act of back and forth on the trapeze

up and down like the ebb and flow of life

the problem may not be that I lack deep emotion and respect for you

but my insecurity that its not reciprocated

not demonstrated

and the books say he’s just not into you and I wonder if it’s morethat he doesn’t care at all

does not his scroll read the same as mine

do not his pages turn at the same time

does the alphabet translate line by line

does his love for other women equate

to his inability to learn true love for me

and though its commonly said that I shouldn’t feel this way

I can’t help but to wonder how I could compare

or if I compare

if in your eyes you would find the same value

would I be enough, if she wasn’t enough

is there a such thing as enough?

and whether little white lies hide bigger uglier ones

or maybe more appropriately if non disclosure shields me from truths

that would free me from captivity to passion for you

I accept your imperfection if you accept mine

i will hear you if your would openly strum the guitar before me

no tune would be off key

just play openly, with your heart, honestly

i want to sing your song

be the canvas to your brushbe the record to your needle

to be the verse to your track

to be the clay to your hands

to be the subject of your photos

for my back to be the stage on which you perform

to be your flower in a garden of them

i feel you running through my veins

call out and I’ll respond

I’m reading what’s written

Hoping my glasses are clear

hoping that it’s really you supposed to be here

melted down in total vulnerability and humility

so you can see I come in peace

am I stupid for this?

perhaps, but I don’t want

pride or having been socialized to believe I’m

supposed to be this way or that to prevent me



from being completely frank about

what is pulling on my emotions and womb

yearning for you and your attention and affection

unreasoning maybe even obsessively

I cry for what I envisioned and what has gone unfulfilled

offer up prayer and entreaty to bless my womband clarity on why it seems like it’s to be you

I do not know but hunches and instinct tell me to run as much

as it tells me to stay

I pray for patience with myself and with you as I learn you

As I navigate the fields of your heart, mind, and mission

I want to fight beside you, not with you

Rally as your partner

Cheer you on

Do for you and with you

Work to please you

Work to make your dreams work

Give completely of myself without reservation or bribe

It would make me happy to make you happy

And to feel secure in your love

Entreating for you to work equally as hard this and with my well being in mind

True unity

True companionship

Making a melodious symphony

Of blissful odors rising in praise of the One who created us

and gave us each other as a gift

To add a brilliant spectrum in an empty skyComposed, recorded, mastered

Jasmine Powersabout.me/jasminepowers@jasminepowers

scrolls - a confession

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