Monday, May 22, 2006
hard candy christmas
Sometimes I'm not so sure
if I stopped the meds too soon
but you were wide-eyed
screaming to the empty room.
I wonder if it was too soon but
no I wonder did I do it for
you or for me, for daddy, to ease
all the suffering all around.
Regardless in my heart I found
the stillness to put you down'
put you on the death drip
that sent you further off, away,
that put you in the ground
and I on the edge of maturity.
call me buttercup
One day one December eve, OH
one, no, two years ago, I stopped
to look about and upon my eyes
came to rest a particular realize;
the ex, past loves and lovers had
seemingly
finally
attached
to their one, the one, A one, umm
perchance purchased the dairy from
wit the pussies drank they milk, got
whipped creams, pies, Jell-O thighs.
(No I am not bitter, instead a pitch
hitter, playa of mischievery adept
all
in
fun.)
Any who, my then current screw (for
lover did he lack in luster and care
(mark one up for a gimme? don't we
all get just one goddamn gimme?)
So yeah, accused of "where is my
one?" then eyein' him, I replied wry:
"go
fuck
yourself,"
and said goodbye for e'en friendship
with the chap was folly. But I was
brought low tide then high and realized
it was okay abreast of all to die. For so
I set about my life's love's pursuits:
to write, be my best; hermetically aloof.
Then
came
him
whom I could not let pass without
my walls but within and gave free
passage to let run amuck and I
unconditionally believed in the one
and only me's ability to lay open,
learn to give and grieve, let pass and
then
came
you.
in recipricocity to decree much freely
like me. I knew not what to feel, give
only that I want and do and in confusion,
hermetic fusion withers, lacking, sadly
scrying as I blossom flush and sweet
in attentive gazes giggling, challenging
do
you
meet.
being blonde gone red
when told by a friend
I am not dense, to her
my reply? "Um...loss
of synaptic aptitude
and spelling." That's
being blonde gone red.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
blossoming
I knew not I
was lonely
until..you
opened me
up, put me
in the sun
on the
window
sill and I
drank you in.
it's a brave new world
We slave away at jobs all day.
At night we croon, open mic to the moon
and all that would listen to us;
the poet the ruler of the new dissention.
We peddle our wares, our cares
free for all the massed classes that feel;
we the poet to druggies deal.
Friday, May 19, 2006
Well I wonder
Why so suddenly afraid?
Wasn't I the one
that said tread
these waters slow,
you the one that said
be yourself. But
onward I row, go,
holding safe those few
words of which I fear for
circumstance, time
situation, distance
more so than for
their feeling,
meaning but only
cause it's you.
I would never
feel just to feel.
Not again.
Never again.
This is still madness, yes?
But I find I want
to crush, to get
caught
up in it all, let
it flow natural
and real; in
dappled rays
of sunlit days
that bring me
words that touch
that heal an ache
I thought a dream;
cherishment
it would seem.
Why though, Love,
so suddenly afraid?
Well I do wonder...
Thursday, May 18, 2006
baby at work
There was a baby today,
she smelled like baby,
smiled like baby, cooed
and moved like baby.
The baby tooted when I held her,
her eyes got big and round, "did you
do that?" I asked. and she smiled big,
not two months old, knowing what I'm
saying. She knew. Babies know everything.
madness
I whispered in the eve
...of madness surely...
this one
soon
mine
love.
So much to cover so
much to know, confer
a year point five seems
so far yet a drop in time
for me to lift you up
into my happiness and
comfort in my arms, arms
that span ten thousand
miles of blushes and smiles.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
come august
Come August...
I will drive 'cross town to the catfish place
sit outside in my languid Texas heat, feel
the sweet drip of sweat 'tween breasts full
sipping soft on iced tea, slowly spooning
shrimp gumbo laced with hot sauce over
white rice, brought to lips and tongue and a
mouth that blows to cool the divinity of it.
representation of self
We are not this shell
scars from flesh torn
age and dilapidation
the youth of taut tits
snappy hip chic cool
coy smiles askew in
light shadow angle
but our hearts bared
attitude loose free
fucked minds at ease
transcendence sought
seeking sleaze sleek
torn souls careless
whispers intentional
teases bots shine
spirit incongruent to
façade as well as
soul matched smiles
reaching eyes when
they rest on another
to whom they connect.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
that loves
she's
just a little girl
just a little...
girl
she's just a little girl
she's
just a little girl
little girl
little girl that loves.
how much to divulge?
In hesitance, fingers
pause for she lay quiet
before the crush instills,
still feeling things out
for she proceeds unsure
even of what she thinks
she saw in passing as
intent toward her, her,
but he called her babe
and she blushed, coy;
blushed last eve
late under the moon's
keen eye, slept
deep, hard was her
flushed brow and
pink cheek pressed
to cool linens, soft
as slow she tread
waters uncharted
drifting into dreams.
And if what she saw
was in fact intent,
will he let her stay
awhile in ponderance
poking, polling, asking
analyzing her way, her
sore heart governed by
low of need for surety?
And how much to divulge,
ever cautious of his own
admittance to skin like
parchment far too thin...
i think i ate the canary
Bloody-damn
hand
pain all 'round and
up the shoulder, no
more than two hours
at a time could I rest
in slumber sweet
complete
yet rose I sluggish in
sheepish
smiles; oh
I think I ate the canary.
sex and intent
I love my little roundness
of the hips curved 'round
to my navel and womb. Oh
I have abs, they're there
somewhere under a tummy
fed full on organic milk
fats that fill me out well
in stark contrast to legs
still long, still slim, still
not enough to balance
breasts too heavy for my
frame as I oft lean full
force toward door jams
and the hard ground. I
suppose I was never one
for balance but as I walk
in graceful swings of
sex and intent I get a good
stare as I giggle when
I fall demurely on me bum.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
three one sunday (unrelated)
I
Pain brings me to
shore upon the banks
of reality, hurt so bad
I turtle, feelings so
intense words won't
come, only silence.
All lay bare upon my
sleeve instead of pen.
II
I felt invisible
having been
checked out
found lacking;
his touch
endless hunger,
mine, a light
repast; snacking.
III
daydream believer
"Can I touch your hair?"
"Of course", she smiled
and closed her eyes
his fingers grazing
cheek then lips, eyes
wide he violated her
heart and desires.
Fingers on keys,
eye on life outside
her window brightly
toward you, thought
turned, daydreams
burned, she
gazed.
for the ex
Gotta give the man
credit for being able to come so far so fast
after my asking for divorce kicked his ass:
Most of all I recall
your anger yet
even so, that fades
and I can exist
in the realm of
friendship and care;
you are happy
(as am I), babe
on the way (writing
my life), new
wife, new career, (I
will eventually get
where I go as well.)
All I know is
in the end have you
always and forever
as my friend.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
ain't scared a you
I
watched
you
die
swore I would never
let another love pass
my lips without one
sweet kiss as if to say
I
checked
it
out
and can be on my way
but at least Love at
least I was brave, did
live utmost and true.
two unrelated poems
No longer am I that young girl
(if ever I truly were) yet open I
mind wide, heart unabashed
and fill I, belly full finally do I
crave to know to wonder though
always in some wonder I wandered
now though, consumed am I with
passion for it
need to devour it
in rapid ascension, to live, learn.
My boss came in from meetings
and said "oh it's nice and quiet."
I wanted to say it's always nice
when you're away, oh and quiet.
Instead I smiled and nodded
in affirmation, keeping the peace,
endangering self toward apathy.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
thoughts of you intrude
Its sad if one needs sad
stories to remind one,
make one feel but it brings
me to you. I did so intrude,
to question are you even
looking? when remarks
of finding self seemed excuse
so flippantly formed.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
fever
'pon my brow
'tween my breasts
salt sweat not tears
but the uncoming
of pain in shallow
breathes of sleep
and exhaustion I
rise quiet in night.
zen haiku
fever
bring to a boil
salt lightly
i need THIS man
There's a big man
named George works
down at the carwash
Sundays, Thursdays.
George has even bigger
hands that make me cry;
Ten dollars, ten minutes
for 'Massages by George'.
pain/pizza
Skinned elbows
wrist broke
tother bruised
meds for pain like
toys for tots?
fucking bitch
stabbed that tetanus
IN; thank you
I said soft and
the most pretty
blue-eyed blonde
boy handled me
with care, wrapping,
instructing, making
sure I got those meds.
sleep type eat
meds sleep dream
no lifting therefore
no store and also
no dressing
no cooking
no wacking off
left over pizza for two
more days?
Saturday, May 06, 2006
past life - sick for sleep
Sick for sleep one
bright afternoon
I curled up with
blanket, with pillow
in the floor in
front of wide
glass doors; one
dog in the crook
of my knee, one
in the curve of
my belly, a third,
the alpha, her head
on my pillow,
nose in my hair
that was long then.
I slept good,
warm with the care
of my babies
surrounding.
Friday, May 05, 2006
i miss my youth
I miss my youth. I miss
my granddad and dad
talking. We had things
like porches then and
cicada instead of patios
and locusts; the latter
being misnomer actually
but people lack specificity
now and knowledge;
colloquial words gone.
My youth in all its
detail reduced to lore.
Maybe someday some-
one will study, find my
mah heart
translated by: gizoogle
Oh how
mah heart beats
loud lately...
boom-ba-boom,
base n drums -
wapow! In a
shawty flutta,
tick-tick-tick;
desire
fo` mah southern
playa ta come, in hizzle
of passion fo` hot concrete
tha burn'n n tha blunt-rollin'
thereof, a
restlessness
ta write; so miznuch in
mah heezee feels fine
n sure, ready ta be
freed,
in search of
transcendence sweetly,
tha word "God" strangely
gang bangin' though so far
am I from tha niznorm it is
aloof, surreal
mislead'n ta
tha socio-gizzle damned
T-H-to-tha-izzat ever I learned
tha tizzerm: prevalent
social
ideology
n fizzle into
tha love of Marxist theory,
bare, buttock raised hizzle
ready fo` tizzle first
sting of flizzesh
on
flizzesh.
Oh how
mah heart beats
loud lately...
boom-ba-boom,
base n drums -
wapow! In a
shawty flutta,
tick-tick-tick.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Jade
October came and
went having left
me cold when once
having fed well
on flesh quite sweet
of breadth and depth
the prior eve past -
grief buried in long
hard ohs, nothing
sweet save release -
desire quenched in
briefness, pounded
out the dates of death
of significance so
when
morning came, I
exhausted exhumed
the ghost bourn I
too many days.
I did not love you
do not, could.
You
are lovable in lost
ways and denial. So
sought I to befriend
(my conscious ever clear)
your aloof, cool smile
and yet, yes, know I that
sometimes in the end
all a good soul needs
is a good rutting fuck
even though feckless
I sought friendship
perhaps where I should
not.
october left me - cold
I can see
how it seemed,
my thirty-five to his
forty-three; I think
perhaps
he thought
me
a young girl in need
(of attention)
of warning,
"don't fall
for me" as if I
were still
the green
of grass,
not jade -
perhaps that was par-t
of the flattery.
then came january
January comes
wash, rinse, repeat;
acknowledge
not I draw you,
let me hide my
words as if they
never were never
more; have jade
mounted, silver
setting, solitaire.
Monday, May 01, 2006
I am not a poet
On the rarity I may profess
myself of the wordsmithing
fate, creed, ilk, passion,
doomed. I am not a writer
I am not a poet. I am an 'an':
American
Texan
Woman
Human
with the innate need
to express, forge my steel
of the heart, mind and soul.
ideally
If I could I would
write the day away,
devote all
my passions to
the seduction of
a single sole; his
downfall would I
scheme and plot,
no chance no
chance at all against
little me almighty.
Thusly he would
draw his lot.
But alas I cannot
so pursue I in
passions depth,
knowledge of which
I lack adept. I
will teach, I will
write and take my
solace in the odd
love on cold nights;
flesh on flesh find
my foe - falling
short of ideals yet
filling full my desire.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
I am
Strangely
void
of
words
and
thought.
Friday, April 28, 2006
calendar girl
Nostalgic for my youth and yet
it fell apart so fast,
spring and May could never last
so free. I do recall its' briefness
in bits and barnacles
clung too fast beneath the willow,
the magnolia
tree;
rain on the window once
soft
was I, young heart
still unhardened by death, divorce
secrets and lies. And in
this my late summer eve turn I
toward autumn sighs
in longings thought left aside.
Where will I be, come
into my December, old age calling?
Friends about? Lovers?
Or will I leave soft asleep, words
fallen from fingers by
the bedside as I read dark nights?
youth in tomes and
translate to thier time.
