youth contemplating
a battle of right and wrong
they want to choose peace
Tag: youth
Candice Louisa Daquin
story of a teenage romance
used to be I wore white, without a bra, receiving the Oscar, just by standing up, shaking left, give the lost boys, a stiff night
used to be, I worried about my curves, took the time to swim, 50 laps each morning, before I smoked my first cigarette, applied the hardness to my eyes, the go-fuck-you sunrise
used to be I mounted without impunity or desire, knowing I didn’t know, what it meant to care, waiting until it turned cold, a little death dripping down my legs
four walls
I would talk of these four walls that hem me; a yellowed parchment too wet to read
masking light from rescue and redemption, where soda bottles collect fallen flies like damp confetti
my feet grew too big for mommy’s shoes, I went bare, an unknown albino among brown skin, glistening with the sweat of play, like seals sunning on rocks in San Francisco, where my sister returns my letters, unopened and dry like shed skin
who has let in the cat again? who let me escape into yellow walls? where patterns are slightly ajar doors, and silence reigns, fitful in distemper
study of a girl
green water is still and birds sound from high
I hear it all
and only the
gentle deep of your voice
how you move
your mouth
the tilt of
your long neck
sunlight
turning your skin into caramel
picks out the
rushing river of your eyes
glances off
the high wistfulness of your cheeks
sway of
your bones moving beneath skin
stay in that
singular and plural second
I know there
are things pulling us back into the world
I think I see
more within
your secret self
than our
words have yet said
you have
planted a longing in me I cannot ignore
study of a girl #2
the wince and crimp of her slimness
like a willow tree, capturing storms
she holds her
head like a wave cresting
against soft shoreline
proud and a little self-assured
the quivering arrow of her curves
tie like a bow around desire
her skin is mango and sunlight
of all her lives spent
before she was found
for she is beauty
together
when they press against the other
beneath roar
of blood and live wire
crackling
into couplets of lightning
the entire world paused
in reflecting
pools oceans
never deep
enough to
swallow
the intensity
of their
regard
1991
it was not our shame
but we carried it high on our cheeks as if it were
the taunt of “lesbian” like sharpened nails
prodding us to flee
and where could we run?
not your closed-minded house, nor mine
what could I
a girl of mended pockets and thin chest of pennies
offer?
did something that felt so right really
reside in sin? is this why I was given a
mismatched heart latched to
yours and never the acrid
stink of boys?
if there had been a way to
take you away from all who said
they’re going through a phase
if we separate them long enough
oh love, my love, not enough time in this
short stacked life,
not enough power in the minds of men
no condemnation loud enough.
a scold from the whole world
who used ugliness to describe
what was always only beautiful
~~~
Daquin is an Editor, Writer, Psychotherapist, and Publisher. In addition to working as a therapist, she edits for five magazines and two publishing houses. Candice was first featured in 2022. Her piece, Phantasma, featured in 2022, was nominated for the Push Cart Prize. You can find her reblogs, features, and interview HERE.
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With Each Step
Inspired by What do you see #235
at a tender age
we’re not yet geared
to think we inhabit a greater space
we plod along
open to new experiences
and growth opportunities
but when greatness is felt
finally
we look as tall as we project
Abating Sins
the slickness of my tongue in youth
divulged my immaturity
when speaking untruths to get my way
at the liquor store
with a fake id
batting eyelashes for rum
at school
with drama-filled explanations
of why homework wasn’t turned in
at home
the walls cringing with angst
from screams between generations
at parties
braggadocious and vain
impressing the girls and boys for attention
as a fledgling human
i excelled in drama
yet aging now prefers that the lies come to an end
Success In The Lineage
with grief our ancestors sigh
their wants poke through a small crevice in time
and like salt to a wound
the descendants take the old to the edge
with their newer knowledge
the youth lifted imposed blinders
they put on their tough coat of skin
and created their field of dreams
the depths of which were endless
the utterances and murmuring of the past
comes from ancient bruises
that this generation wants no part of
When Things Were
the taste of fear
put aside
in favor of adventure
thrill-seeking
with no thought of consequence
it was years of challenging the restrictions
of previous generations
not seeing the worth of bold gyrations
they were stuck, we were wild
First Experience
innocence trusting
the slaps and brandings of life
not yet left their marks
Madame Blue
Reblog – Blooding by Candice Louisa Daquin
I am in awe of her ability to once again draw me so deeply into her poetry, leaving me feeling like I’ve relived my past. Candice can write about experiences that resonate like my own, a history that is sometimes hard to put into words, but here, the emotions wrapped in metaphor strike a chord. Thank you, Candice! <3
I made myself a promise I can’t keep
to stay steady, even in times of grief
not obey my gut and flee, bare-foot
into thick forest where birds
never rebuke
not to climb from shaking boat
wet wood and mold, scarred paint and
many gentle hands
cupping despair in her once tree lined womb
ever tempted to fling off effort
abandon the temple of people and their
admonishments
those truthful kindnesses flung back in reproach
by those who have no use of you
standing like husks by the road
waiting to snag your heart to shreds.
The woman across the road lifts her shirt
stuck slightly with glue from hospital monitors
a strange gel they affix electrodes to
when they’re getting ready to cut
she fills her chest with the congestion of the late hour
burning in filament
like fire birds finding song in dark
her dream is to be…
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Music And Balance
I know that I have a need to let music embody me for enjoyment. It’s also a distraction for loneliness or wanting to feel nostalgic about a memory. And sometimes just headbanging intensely with a good AC/DC tune is good for the soul. There are quite a few artists that I like and for so many different reasons. My tastes run a wide berth, and across all time and genres.
Reflecting on my teenage years, I realize I used music quite heavily to navigate some of the emotional chaos in my life at that time. Shaking off the demons accompanied by music was quite cathartic for me then. In my youth, whenever I required a release of pent up emotions, I’d turn on the record player. My go-to album was Genesis – A Trick of the Tail. I’d start by playing the song Ripples and let all the deep, sobbing emotions rise to the top as I simultaneously cried and sang out all the angst. A sort of purge, if you will. Next came A Trick of the Tail to set my mind on a path of a take-charge, purposeful freedom. Lastly, Los Endos to take all the heartfelt emotions which erupted with the first song, allowing them to build again into a fever pitch of strength and control. Feeling them explode with the crescendo of the song, emerging spent and empty, that was the goal and what saved me from going deeper inside. This was my process when living became all too much. It allowed me to escape from my own destruction. And kept me from being committed.
It’s interesting that I find peace and quiet are what I relish most being a grownup. But maybe tapping into such a focused release might do me some good in my older years too.
I Write Her 