Featured Poet - Vasti Carrion

Featured Poet - Vasti Carrion

COVID-MASKS MASKED A WOMAN


Her Covid-19 mask,

Changed her appearance as

Would a plastic surgeon.

The COVID mask lied about

Her physical appearance 

The pandemic turned her into a patient,

A patient walking by and by, committing errands,

It reminded her of a religion, maybe Covid masks hide her feeling,

maybe the mask says it all

Or maybe a Covid mask can turn to a religion,

That purifies a woman and hides her image,

For Mr. Vain sake. 

When the earth is diseased,

And you gravitate the globe in a surgical mask

The Covid restrictions are your doctor’s

Prescription, 

That withholds your smile from your strangers

En route Metro bus routes,

And the word “grave”

Is gray in color,

Your smile blending in to Covid signs

That mandate you to wear

Your smile on your shoulder, but not on your face,

And the sanitizer that makes you think,

If it is the Covid-19’s pandemic’s perfume,

And if Covid is a housewife and a woman,

To sanitize the viruses of a world,

Making the world your home,

With a pandemic (Covid-19) being a homemaker!


HEART DIGESTION


I ate a poem and it went through my heart,

It was digested, by my myocardium 

pumped blood on the poem,

The heart's blood cells gnawed the poem,

my heart was digesting 

the poem through my heart,

My poem

was chewed in the heart,

It's nutrients began to dissolve 

as the paper dissipated,

releasing the meaning

and skipping to the song

of love, carried by the poem,

as it carried

The vitamins of meaning 

by the paper. 

written by the poet! 

The poem is digesting 

It's words are breaking

in my heart

And traveling through the veins

and conclaves and valves,

the mechanism that is turning 

my poem into energy

because my heart is my stomach 

And there is a poem that went to my heart, 

which my heart digested! 


SCRUB


The St. Ives Apricot scrub

In gentle counter clockwise

Strokes,

and tap -dancing-water from

The Department of Water and Power

removed my dead skin cells 

at 11:43 pm,

as the summer moon 

surfs the stars 

in the night sky,

with gravity, where the moon dwells 

rejuvenating,

my soft skin becoming seamless 

and gentler and squeakier 

cleaner

From yesterday debris,

Every exfoliation,

Is a new life,

a dawn,

Opening the sky

as the moon retires 

from the spotlight of the day 

and my Alien skin

 becomes familiar,

Tonight I will need

another apricot scrub

exfoliation 

like a proper 

burial for your dead skin cells 

for a new day; therefore, 

new life and new skin cells. 


ABOUT THE POET: My pen name is: Acton Bell and I have been a published poet since the age of 17. I'm a contributor to five poetry anthologies: Family, No More Stolen Sisters, Intensity and Beyond Words, and Poets For Peace Facebook Anthology. I had a poem published in U.S Poetry magazine (waxpoetryart.com) called Afro-Latina.

E: carrionvasti601@gmail.com

FB: @vasti.carrion

CLICK HERE. to read an interview with Vasti

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