Category Archives: Poetry

Nakedness, dawn breaking. Feel.

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Nakedness, dawn breaking. Feel.

Emotions,
Wet blankets hanging us
The guts wrench
With twisting sensations
Of sickness
Bodies and lives

A song can take us by surprise
And just as quickly, kill us

Our ideas for tomorrow from the wilting of the spring’s tulip
Take their lead
In this oppressive summer heat

Unquenched kisses for woman primed, for a lady who will and has
Wait
Like knees in the fold of an ironed slack, a tug,
A pull, an infinite night for years upon years
Heaps of them all piled
Are piling

Can the forward motion go on
A lifetime without being kissed back

Empty lips, hollow soul
Unfold into nothing, explode

And still the winter will swallow
The seeds from the tulip inside,
As if tucking a death into one’s self
Should be so easy
…It is, in this small way

Seamless greed, the autumn keeps
Its secrets free of shame
And me, uneased
Unhinged and thieved
And always never being the same

But I a lonely nocturne came
And in
The shutting doors
The fruitless branch
The hiding place
Will be remained

A tight-rope walking
Dance of flame
A lonely girl
A nameless name

The breasted beak
Will speak and break

Out, away, forever

Here, kitty kitty…

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Here, kitty kitty…

You fit me well
In that sinister edge your laughter keeps
Making a mockery
Better than a living
Of me, and I pretend so well to love it

You do not know me

You wear me well
But cannot keep
Me, contained
In the guilt of your smile
You poor baby; you made me
Your fix, your crutch, your reason for being
Seldom what you seem
Turning me into a joke
Some permanence of blue
In your emptiness of green

And yet I’m the one short of worthy
You deem
It wasn’t enough
For you to tie me down
A mummified queen
Of this promised forever

If simply to breathe, I should ask your permission
If I seal my lips and sell my dreams
If I spend the money to buy into your mission–the satisfying of your own sick needs
Will you then say I’ve fared well as your wife?

If I resist the urge to peel the skin off your skull, set your frame on fire, blow your brains out just to watch you bleed
Then in my book it should suffice
(trust me)
As proof I must have loved you
If only a smidgen

If I close my eyes, keep still, be quiet
Return my silence for your emotional violence
If somehow I manage
To allow you your vices
Of snapping a soul in two just to suit you;
If I rise to the top like thickening oil
On the surface, I assure you
It means that you my dear, at least married well

I didn’t marry down;
I crawled straight to hell and took the name of the biggest beggar I found

Rob Peter to pay Paul

My life is a testament
To what happens to little girls
Who are never shown how
Why does marriage still exist?
Was I born just for this?
United with a state of unobtainable bliss

I grew up too quickly
Oblivion-rich
Of societal norms
I colored my world in shades of burnt orange
Forgetting the images subsequently absorbed
Were distorted, conformed
To my inner expectations
Of very little
And very often

We always get what it is we’ve expected

For me, it’s a lifetime of hide-and-seek
Bare-knuckled scream-thinking
Bruise-inclined heart-beating
White picket fences
And hearts to be mended
With skinned-shaking knees

I believed sweet dreams are made of these
Who wouldn’t like to disagree?

The cat accomplishes nothing
Out of the bag

However “Ever After” Goes

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However “Ever After” Goes

The excitements purge and the dust settles
Time, taking its measurements in re-runs
And the shows aren’t even worth showing
Extra loud repetitions blaring the soundtrack to life’s mediocrity
Its meaninglessness so shrill in pitch
And did you know boring yourself to death is a noisy endeavor?
The laundry’s staled. Mildewed, despite re-starting the cycle fifty-eight times over
Three days have gone by? Add soap push start and forget about it
Over and over and over
Was marriage designed to be this hard?
Does everybody do it? Do you know what I mean?
Matrimony, the eternal scream and it’s a lot like the laundry these days; a bunch of bullshit I’d rather not do
With its moldy stench of unfinished business, of apathy, of not giving a damn, of dying another pointless death every time I get out of bed
I want to see him feel empty for once, stop giving a fuck, shit or get off the pot, give the whole thing up
As masterfully as I have
In the earlier days (before the TV sets died in the permanent-seeming on position)
I was the same, yet a different person
Alive, electric
Before peace caved in and lost its spine
I was in motion
Bidding my life to the proof of my worth
(as I thought it’d need proven)
By “doing my part”
With a permanent grin
Walking in such an effortless spirit of perpetual excellence
Prune-shriveled fingers yet manicured hands
Ironic how (while feigning confused disappointment) he now likes to remind me of what a cool person I was then
Before I quit wiping his piss off the floor in my boy shorts, before I quit wearing those sexy bandanas in my hair, before I learned how to kill him with my eyes, before my imagination died and the horizon collapsed, taking me hostage by the brutalities of domesticity implicit in being the chauvinist’s wife
I was cool.
I was a prized fighting champion with manners and class on my knees and hands scrubbing my way through the American (or my imaginary) Dream

Life is divided in two, but no one ever tells you
that the middle can suck you into itself
a black hole; an anti-matter; a one way ticket to the realization that you grew up to become a nobody

There’s a red sheet whipping in the winds of change, gripped by the hands of resistance
You can’t be the bull and the ringleader too
And so I dance, I dance my midlife away
While the gringo masters the art of futility
His every breath a burning desire to see me tamed
Hopes should never be set so high; birds are not born for a cage

The Guardians of My Heart

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The Guardians of My Heart

My children, my litter of dewdrops, my empty womb;
Men in the making
Whose smiles reach my sight with the propensity of blisters
My anxieties collecting just to linger there
Threatening to burst at the slightest touch
Reach too close, love too much, mother them just enough and pop! disappear
Is it practicality or fear?
I watch them in the meadow, the open spanse of nature across the hurry from where we live
A lone donkey in a barbed cage of wire waits like puberty
On the shore of his lot in life
In time, he has not once let us down
Stands taught, posture of a proud soul, still and quiet and expectant
As a fed animal should be
Routine; the feedings, the adventures of these walks, the passing of their childhood and innocence before my eyes

My heart takes its beatings in this way

The truth has waited long enough.

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I dedicate this to whom it belongs.

The swelter keeps a record heat this year
It’s a murderous spring
Losing itself between
Frost-bitten ices and heat-stroke orange
Blood orange
The kind sliced and placed perfectly in its pointless garnishing place

And here am I
Another token of your majesty’s invincibility
Should’ve gambled on the chance of it
Me, falling predictably apart at your treason’s start
When I die, will there be a heart
In you, will that be enough, your highness, to prove
That my faith could’ve gone on forever?
Will you sadden your face to suit the occasion?
Compassion, empathy, when in season or fashion
You, how you would just so happen
To keep coming around
Happen, always know where to be and when
Include us, if you will
Structurized memories and compromised plans
New age theories with their many hidden agendas

How do you keep up with yourself?

I once was one of the few, the only
Putting all my broken chips upon you
You, with your royal rule of the Universe
Your well-thought words
Which aid and abed
Each of your ulterior motives
Far too many to count
I was kept taught and rapt to them
To you
By denial of my angst and inner doubtings

Trust not the still and silent snake

And yet in my own transcendence
The Zen I developed before you ever came along
The enlightenment for which you can take no credit, master
I did. I tried to forgive you
Release my pain
Along with my poignant disbelief
To your many Gods,
Place the blame upon them
To make sense of the inconsistencies

I was once but a sperm
Cloaked in the scent of desire
Wanting, wanting
My genetic disposition
Of narcissism
Megalomania
Self-awareness, as you’d say

I was at fault, a Y chromosome too
Half false, half true
Rushing forth with my emotions to the egg
The ovarian safe haven
Where I planted myself
Made a home, painted the walls a new color
To call it my own
Nesting in the fertile soil; zygote or embryo
Which is it?
Surely as with everything you know
Everything about me
And it helps to see your talent in the art of public speaking
Nothing captures attention
Like the slack of a jaw

You are wrong, you are cruel, and you are good at what you do

The findings of these deficiencies
Collect into a grand criticism
A tide pulsing with the moon
Full, pain; the rare eclipse
As you
Have; refrain from being
The one thing that I could count on
Confide in

How is that for looking long and hard?
Does my self contempt suit you?

Nothing can see us
Quit so clearly

As betrayal