Orange Colored Poetry
By Clara Hembree



There is freedom on the horizon of the desert. If you can find an open space where you are all alone, you can scream out loud, as loud as you want. No one will bother you with the question “Are you OK?” You can rant and kick up the dust and beg as a child to the father to give you what you want. No mind games in this desert. Just a simple, primal feeling that finally gets heard... by you, the real you. And once this feeling is free from denial and justifications, you begin to taste it... freedom.

Desert - Part 2
Oh sweet desert with your mud dust crust,
Bellowing cries in darkful lust.
Ode to the sand at the foot of Joshua,
A Victrola to capture it and anchor the plethora.
Dawn you sun! It’s because
    of your kiss,
That my canyons await you,
    as a gold mine’s abyss.
Does it give you permission to bleach my children?
Give summer rain to the song
    of your rock wren!
Stomp at the ground and curse
    and fit,
But the silence resounds as the ghost knock quits.
Prolific distance, a skinny dog’s shadow,
Pains long as the wind leaves him a pillow.
Hubcap mama, trailer queen,
Life looks better when it’s left unseen.
Here is a gift that begs your name,
Venomous writhing that cleanses the blame.
Gold my friend, is the hue
    of the air,
Unconditional Love that
    doesn’t care.

Please visit and for more info on Clarabell’s poetry, lyrics and music project; The Maheekats.


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