I once heard that photography allows us to be the proverbial fly on the wall, to see things that words can't explain and the heart can't fully fathom. I see poetry as something that allows the reader and the writer to better understand the state of emotional feeling that is suppressed on a day to day basis. The poet becomes the fly on the wall to see his/her own artwork coming from their subliminal heart. Poetry is a supplement to my painting as well. It explains the things that my images can't. I write about anything that stirs in my head and I always make sure that my poetry is composed of imagery and feeling and are overall pieces that will make a person think"

Georgina Marie Guardado
(Byline Georgina Marie)
Breathinginocean@aol.com

From an email. To see more of Georgina's work, her blog is at: http://www.xanga.com/rottedpeach

I wait. Like a patient lover.

wondering why and how it is there.

This thing blossoming, cradling as it moves along.

Call it a plum. A love fruit.

Though your water is cool and curing,

I crack.

Not only inside my mind but of all,

my heart.

It turns.

Abandoning its life from its hidden tradition

yet doing the same to return to it

I glow like a candle of rain

though my tears make shift like rose petals

falling from nowhere

You don't know how often

You don't know how sudden...

...my emotions, swift like a breeze, claws even,

They roll over and split to halves.

Never still. Never transparent

You don't know how sudden they come.

You don't know how often they rain.

I hope you know my nights are not half

Like a tea cup with only half chamomile.

my nights are whole.

Spent of less time asleep, yet more meaning.

They seem shorter as time flies by.

As I grow years older, still young, feeling that time is in me

You fill my nights.

They are not just sleep. Sleep like typical sleep.

The sleep that moves us to the next day.

The next ordinary day.

You fill my nights.

They are movements, moments. Slow moments like the pouring of honey.

Like wind...moments to listen to.

Like wind chimes...Repeating yet not moving rapidly.They leave a sound behind.

The sound of you breathing.Next to me.one hand on me.Your body curled.

Quiet. yet not silent. not golden silence. just quiet.

You lay still like water before a drop of rain even thinks of touching it.

And I your raindrop.

One movement and you awake with rings flowing around you.

I've always learned to flee
But now I turn to die
You tore every petal of me
Rose detrimental lies

With the cores of my baccaras
Mutating and binding me with their growth
They fix every broken vein
And fly to the next

But to my bloodlines
They mustn't look at me
For I am shifting and becoming someone
Unknown to their worlds
Drained from the pinnacle
I came and have come undone

With every poke and mock
I question and deny my strength
As strength does fail me

I shall turn to a harrowing lass
And if I re-link the feathered shards of what I have become
They'd still be inane
For they have sailed on an intoxicated boat
For however amount of years it takes to grow
To something so down and dithering

Pure deception has come to be
with a striped bow
And deemed itself worthy
What a pleasant gift
Yet interesting

To see that this deception and betrayal
In a pleasant box
Has come not in high tides from others
But from my self

In the dirty pond where apathy
And inconclusive power
Lives with the broken down cars
And flies by with the corpses
On Halloween morning,
A war may never end

I don't trust the clouds today
Yesterday they expanded
At the apex of the storm

The sky split in two
Siding with the darkness
Moon and sun stared face to face
Flashes of light ran through the sky
Like the lens of an invader
Were the gods angry?

A strong slap of electricity cut through
Like a murderer
Ice chips as slabs of oil fell to hoods and concrete
Winds swirled and ripped apart
And orange potent strikes slapped against
The dim grey skies that we call blue

We condemn skies to torture
Asphyxiation and decay
Like nicotine to our own lungs
Industries, carbon debris, chemical sprees
I know why the gods were angry

So you are to be the murky cradlesong

Who chains me down in words

Turning into a fogged spirit

And managing to seep yourself into a cerebral stain

You reach for me and hold me by my insides

Before a chance to flee is availed

And if I dare try to run

you’d be there in the doorway

Haunting me and keeping me from straying

Yet at the same time you’re the sea salt in my wounds

Limiting my breath from not hatred yet compassion

And away from asphyxiated morning dew

I must admit I’d prefer a wreath

with barb wire around my presence

Rather than flourish in complete vulnerability

Where I can be found as a victim of anything

And be left as shards of shards

But I’d change if love was the potion

Flourishing as some odd eccentric butterfly

with such esteem

To blow the wind out of a balloon

is how I wish to be

For a moment let me allow to take the focus off of mea culpa me

I’d wish to fall unto such a burdened identity

Whom like myself would be a forsaken rose

Desiring the buds to be nurtured and spread open

Two centers of being that would begin to rotate and turn frictional

Until a bond and invisible threads

of detachment would be placed

In the realm we cannot see

And two would be tied together

© Georgina Marie

Intrigue moves me like a grip of dignity
With beads below the waist
Hanging from soft hips like a rose persimmons lips
It swirls in my mornings and tumbles down and out
During nights
It grabs onto my hearts hanging lace and
Lifts me to your cloud

I’ve given myself mauve lids
and a sweet patch of his Voodoo
Inside the flesh of a remote taciturn doll
A man used to call me doll
And it turned me into a refulgent patch in a strawberry field
It’s hitting me now. I want to be called doll again

His poppy seeds and vanilla beans
Clear out the vigorous control I have
I’d rather be unaware of my curiosity
Invisible lines draw me a bit near to him
Along with the words that shred my vulnerability to a sugar cube
I wonder if he’d take it
And turn it into a morning glory lexicon

© Georgina Marie

I’m not sure if I should kiss you or cut you

Say good morning or say goodbye

Make an excuse and compose an alibi

For decorating that cheap broken glass

I make it sound as if I used to turn into Leatherface on you

I’ve only fed the sharp edge to your surface sporadically through the years

forgive me for the overdose and that month when 15

Where the blade was force fed into you every other day

But each gave your mind a break from the burn

I don’t adore abusing you, believe me, I never did

Better yet I love to wrap my arms around your legs

And press my lips against your knees

Just to show that I care so much of you

I love to think of you as something still blooming

And finding your own face to be something enchanting

Whether it is or not

I never seem to know

You’re a pearl when outside of your shell

I hope you know this

Behind the black fabrics and happy/sad faces

Something is there, something otherworldly

and your bright colors are coming back, thank me for that

I shun you at the sight of your ill, self hating pearl

When it darkens and loses it’s shine

I don’t pale your light intentionally

But you have to understand the missing life

I have no right to dwell on it, babe

But it’s my nature to recognize and analyze

Your parts give pleasure in all ways

And when the blade dug down in the past

It played the part of an invisible lover

Biting with the force you wanted to be touched with

I used to acknowledge everyday, the sultry shadow on your eyes

even though they were brown instead of green

but I loved them more when they became lighter with sunshine

Guess I never realized when I kept you behind curtains during the day

And the thought that you could lay in a field of dandelions

while a man would so easily lay his hands on your waist

And turn your heart into a chime

now you don’t seem worth a dime without the sunlight

of acceptance trailing from behind

I’ve pushed the lead right into you

Full forced and blown into a contusion

A confusion I can’t decipher

But I wish you to be unleaded and in an air of lasting purity

I have to admit I turn my head at the sight

Of your not so pencil thin frame

"She's perfectly proportionate" your sisters best friend said

Others seemed to love you when I did not

I've never felt that way until sixth grade

When I realized everybody seemed so perfect when they were fake

I used to wonder how it would be to change your figure

And try Kimberly’s figure on you

The body that seemed to be attained through bulimia

Your hair used to shine and flow like a raven

before the cutting took effect to your head

You used to be your own drug

Something to fall in love with

You still may very well be I just don’t notice it anymore

you're becoming you again, something more of a clever montage

So I must say I love you

No one else is around to say it

And if the cards are played out evenly perhaps I’ll share you with another

Just make sure to tell them you’re your own lover

© Georgina Marie