HEMMORAGE

Can you wait a minute?
Let me suture my heart
so words dont bleed out
I dont want to drip
all over your shoes
when you didnt cause
the hemmoraging
Can you wait a minute?
Let me dry my eyes
and fix my lipstick
my cheeks flushed
with happiness
when you didn’t cause
the weeping
Can you just wait
one minute more?

Brenda-lee Ranta
c.w. 2019

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I often wonder, as an observation,
if there is not a flaw, or an innate itching
in the human psyche that prevents us
from moving forward. Is it malaise, boredom or complacency that causes the world to become ugly, when things are going well? Why do we undo ourselves, every time; almost as though it is a global decision to annahilate everything that is good about us, merely for the sake of change, while blaming the other guy? We are the other guy.

If there is one message I could leave for my own children and grandchildren, it would be to be truly grateful when life is going well and never grind their own wheels when that itching comes. At all costs, look for the love and be grateful. I pray their world never looks like this again.

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Laced

Filigree dreams
dance on the edge of
creationism – idealism
Weaving in and out
of cambray garments,
that love beads defined
It quietly lives as a seed
waiting to proliferate
from the Polaroid photos
in a cigar box of optimism
and new ideologies
that never quite saw
the light of a new day
each time the box
slammed shut in defeat

fractal-2015921_1280

Copyright: Brenda-Lee Ranta 2019

Triad

Triad Verses
of Dedications

(1)

No more, my wounds
fester nor blister
I shall not let my tongue
return to abscesses;
be drawn to the scabs
In your red velvet nights,
I close my eyes
I want only to know the
scent of your skin,
the rhythm of your breaths,
the heartbeats living
beneath your breastbone

(2)

Where I made my bed
I have laid my head
Your voice shook me
from vulnerability,
Feet touching feet,
images mirrored in eyes;
even in disillusionment
we are assuaged by a
return to tenderness,
in knowledge
that there be no solitude
in our choices
we, the shadows

(3)

Pasts and futures fused
in presence – present
Lines blurred, seeping
into each other heads
Ink dries on our communal
papers, this sky writing
on ceiling-less skies
that fold back the bed sheets
of yesterday’s love,
tomorrows yearning
forever sated
we, the shadows
of each other.

©Brenda-Lee RantaFB_IMG_1546484811020

An excerpt: Perceived by Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

Projection upon her, incongruous It wasn’t pessimism, it wasn’t illusory; very few comprehend the reality of it things slipped through fingers things dropped from lips smiling faces and long sighs contradictions predictions predilections Feelings spoke to her in the night, wakeful nights, where she cursed words out loud, to empty ceilings, to empty hearts Nights […]

via Perceived by Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

Featured Author: Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

Brenda-Lee Ranta composed her first poem at the age of seven. Throughout her life, she used prose as a means of logging her experiences in a life which has been under ‘constant construction.’ Amazing to her, is that at the age of 58, CTU Publishing Group published her first book, “Myriad of Perceptions,” to be […]

via Featured Author: Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

The Letter by Hugh Dysart — Creative Talents Unleashed

Someone sent me, naked words, in a dead-end letter Six pages of blank white, the scent of secrets kept, yearning to be told Tales of Cinderella damsels, captive in abandoned towers Exiled queens wandering, the halls of haunted castles Words appearing, vanishing, falling from a dead-end letter, someone sent me Behind closed eyes, […]

via The Letter by Hugh Dysart — Creative Talents Unleashed

Jargon by Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

They said he had ‘multiple exceptionalities with auditory processing and word finding issues, some right hemiplegia, mild Cerebral Palsy’ he was described by a series of apt medical adjectives and frightening terms that publicly defined him throughout his life High school years were spent hiding in the bathroom stalls to eat his lunch, avoiding […]

via Jargon by Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

Subjective Art by Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

It seeps in, a constant drip which bows the canvas of the psyche, the weight of it finally permeating within, filling each crevice. Resilient but not invincible, she bowed to it, conceded to it, till, from the strain, from the constant drip of it; she became flawed. Try as she might to return to former […]

via Subjective Art by Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

New Release “Heart Sounds” By Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

Preface … Awareness speaks within me, slowly, in each new day. I was not cognizant of it in real time; but in retrospect, I am astounded by the various ways in which I have grown and evolved as a human being. Conversely, I am also aware of where I have fallen from the ideals I […]

via New Release “Heart Sounds” By Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

To Whom it May Concern:

I regret to inform you, that I will not be able to keep our scheduled appointment. While you have been extremely busy creating a crisis a day, casting dispersions upon the already downtrodden, the subjugated and the discriminated, I have been in quiet observation.

I don’t claim to be extraordinary, by any stretch of the imagination. Nor, do I boast of being of great wealth or stature. I spend my days with my hands elbow deep in dishwater, folding laundry and pushing a vacuum. I had a long career of which I was proud, but now, as you can see, my attention to detail are paid to simpler tasks. My thoughts are not given to stoking the fires of doubt; instead I am focussed on the rudimentary, which is my own existence. My simple pleasures are found in words, truthful words, kinder words; peaceful words. Creating by whatever means, is my passion, to which my energies are far better served.

So, without apology, I will not be attending our appointment. If you see me sitting on a park bench, twirling a tendril of hair around my fingers, with a vague look on my face, a small smile curling at the corners of my mouth; please know that you are not in my thoughts. I give my thoughts to those I love and my simple, humble existence. I have flown to the sky with the birds, flying freely among the stars.

Sincerely,

©Brenda-Lee RantaIMG_20181020_181444_438

When I Say….

If I say ‘I love you,’
I have pledged my allegiance to you,
promising to stand by you, through your
victories and in your defeats

If I say ‘I love you,’
I am blind to appearance, for I loved your soul first and recognized it long ago; it is forever timeless

If I say ‘I love you,’
I am telling you I respect you, whether we agree or disagree; authentic love
has no condition

If I say ‘I love you,’
know that you have touched my mind, body and soul, in a way no other being ever could

If I say ‘I love you,’
I could never betray you for another, for to cause you pain, is to cause injury unto myself

So, if I say ‘I love you,’
you are loved as purely as my mortal being can love and as eternally as God
may grant me.

When I say ‘I love you.’

©Brenda-Lee RantaIMG_20180922_134925_298

About My Mind

IMG_20180920_215509_946
About my Mind

Words follow me
Thought bubbles
above my head

A young girl
dragged her
left foot a little,
causing her shoe
to turn in, as she
passed slowly
in front of my
car, at the light.

A short man in
a business suit,
kept pushing his
shirt back into
his trousers,
walking quickly,
his face turned
towards the wind,
his suit jacket
billowing behind
him.

An old woman
clutched her hand-
bag to her chest,
as though she
carried a thousand
dollar bank deposit,
warily weaving
between the throngs
of people rushing by
her on the sidewalk.

My thought bubbles
ask me what went
through their minds,
in the middle of a
sleepless night,
when whispering
their secrets to
bedroom ceilings.

©Brenda-Lee Ranta

A Metaphor

Beginnings,
endings
flow as a stream
We are the stream;
moved by the current
to small still ponds
basking in warm sunlight
Winds will come
rippling water urging
us back out
into the stream,
moving quickly
spirals of  turbulence
leading us to
large open water
aimlessly adrift
Waves will come
in torrents
pushing us back
to sandy shores
in refuge
after being carried
for so long
and so far,
wading there in
stagnant water
till the next current
comes to move
us along
always moving us
along

©Brenda-Lee Ranta

Aberration by Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed (an excerpt from my second poetry book)

She told me she had seen him in a parking lot, huddled on the ground; filthy, scabs on his skin. He had soiled himself, the stench unmistakable as she walked passed him into the coffee shop. It repulsed her, this curiosity, yet her heart held compassion. She stood in line waiting for her […]

via Aberration by Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

Moan – Author Hugh Dysart — Creative Talents Unleashed

Moan for me, from your throat Guttural purring, all sex and claws Speak to me, in bitten tongues Tell me you love me, in spit and blood Scream for me, in pains of ecstasy Hate me for touching, your secrets Kneel for me, on kitchen floors Serve me your trust, on tables […]

via Moan – Author Hugh Dysart — Creative Talents Unleashed

Featured Author: Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed… another excerpt <3

Brenda-Lee Ranta composed her first poem at the age of seven. Throughout her life, she used prose as a means of logging her experiences in a life which has been under ‘constant construction.’ Amazing to her, is that at the age of 58, CTU Publishing Group published her first book, “Myriad of Perceptions,” to be […]

via Featured Author: Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

Pen Lovers by Jody Austin — Creative Talents Unleashed

We’ve been lovers since day one Our relationship sealed since the womb A beautiful birthright bestowed by God Tangled upon indigo ink stained sheets You fit these hands so perfectly Leaking lavishly long loops of calligraphy Sharing our stories with each other Intimately getting to know our verses Exposing the blueprint of our […]

via Pen Lovers by Jody Austin — Creative Talents Unleashed

Black Crow Shadows by Hugh Dysart — Creative Talents Unleashed

Black crow shadows, pass, over parking lot pavement Flying through me, into me, out of me Felt them stop on a heartbeat Dirty, yellow claws lunging, tearing prey from my chest; escaping with ragged pieces, of a bleeding heart Black crow shadows, steal, my shiny daydreams Feeding on naive hope, the idealism of […]

via Black Crow Shadows by Hugh Dysart — Creative Talents Unleashed

I am thrilled to share this news!!! Anthology Release: Essential Existentialism ~ the meaning of life — Creative Talents Unleashed

Foreword … Why are we here? What is our purpose? What is the meaning of life? These are the questions that have plagued humanity since the dawn of time. With the recent passing of Stephen Hawking, one of the most world-renowned physicists, known for his enormous contributions to quantum mechanics and general relativity, one has […]

via Anthology Release: Essential Existentialism ~ the meaning of life — Creative Talents Unleashed

Land of the Sorceress Queen by Hugh Dysart — Creative Talents Unleashed

In another time, another place, with another name, another face Golden skies, emerald streams, Land of the Sorceress Queen When musical magic fills the air, sleeping quills wake inspiration A raven’s feather, draws and traces, fallen angels with Tarot card faces Camel tracks to Constantinople, when time was told in sand Wisemen […]

via Land of the Sorceress Queen by Hugh Dysart — Creative Talents Unleashed

Fight or Flight by Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

when everything was broken felt like lesions on your skin inside you felt so empty the time had worn too thin you were lonelier beside him that if you’d been apart there was nothing left to say that would recreate the start and you knew that is was over when you lived it day […]

via Fight or Flight by Brenda-Lee Ranta — Creative Talents Unleashed

PAGES

Pages

We vacillate between our
optimism and regrets
turning the pages again;
some are great losses
some are great victories
We mourned, we rejoiced,
we heard our souls;
shaking us into silence
In all things there was
purpose,
In all things there was
a divination
We may curse it
or embrace it,
vacillating between
optimism and regrets
We turn the page
knowing that it was
a year of lessons,
which is the blessing

c.w Brenda-Lee Ranta