I watched the moon and mused last night
I think
I just get sad sometimes
I hear my fingers dripping threads of rain
and pooling at my feet
wonder whether my eyelashes are real
and memories are gone
so what remains
silver beads of sweat along my arms and legs
I could say it was beautiful
but
I just get sad sometimes
and sunset orange turns to gray
what shone before is now caked with dirt
what sang now sleeps
and where have my daydreams gone
I feel my flowers drooping
nodding quietly and slinking
stems browning at the ends
leaves crinkle sideways
I watched four days roll past the window
no words to offer them
no effort
nothing real
nothing golden
because
I just get sad sometimes
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Sinister Kid
check out these radical scars on my arms
all this gnarly blood between my elbows
isn’t it cool?
isn’t it cool?
god-damnit, I said look at me
look at what I’ve done
I cut myself all up for you
put my metallic tang on your tongue
and it’s bitter, isn’t it
yeah, I’m the girl who fucked the rules
who chugged the booze and kissed the morning sky goodbye
good morning, apathy
another day rolls by
another opportunity to break my knees
sure, blame it on my diagnoses
call it a name and feed it some pills
put Vaseline on my scrapes and walk away
I dare you
I’ve got heat left in my mouth from the skin it’s sucked
bruises on my wrists still from the ties that bound me
look how I ruined my Sunday clothes
look how I smeared my lipstick
showing up to church hung over again
fuck what you have to say
my halo’s broken anyway
all this gnarly blood between my elbows
isn’t it cool?
isn’t it cool?
god-damnit, I said look at me
look at what I’ve done
I cut myself all up for you
put my metallic tang on your tongue
and it’s bitter, isn’t it
yeah, I’m the girl who fucked the rules
who chugged the booze and kissed the morning sky goodbye
good morning, apathy
another day rolls by
another opportunity to break my knees
sure, blame it on my diagnoses
call it a name and feed it some pills
put Vaseline on my scrapes and walk away
I dare you
I’ve got heat left in my mouth from the skin it’s sucked
bruises on my wrists still from the ties that bound me
look how I ruined my Sunday clothes
look how I smeared my lipstick
showing up to church hung over again
fuck what you have to say
my halo’s broken anyway
Emily
I watched her feet play tricks on the yielding grass below
Dancing atop each blade
Toeing the flower petals where they lay
I watched her braid daisies into necklaces for us to wear
Pouring silver starshine into lily cups when the sun fell
Delicate wings unfolding from between her shoulder blades
Fluttering slightly every other moment
I watched her pull the moonbeams here and there for spotlights
Teach the spiders to weave
I watched her celebrate
Drawing circles with her breath in my hands
Painting murals on her skin with the morning dew
Saplings nodding at her approach
Toads and badgers nipping at her tiny ankles
I watched her blossom slowly
Sunrise yellow and blue
I watched her spin my skin into a thousand sparkling rivers
Dancing atop each blade
Toeing the flower petals where they lay
I watched her braid daisies into necklaces for us to wear
Pouring silver starshine into lily cups when the sun fell
Delicate wings unfolding from between her shoulder blades
Fluttering slightly every other moment
I watched her pull the moonbeams here and there for spotlights
Teach the spiders to weave
I watched her celebrate
Drawing circles with her breath in my hands
Painting murals on her skin with the morning dew
Saplings nodding at her approach
Toads and badgers nipping at her tiny ankles
I watched her blossom slowly
Sunrise yellow and blue
I watched her spin my skin into a thousand sparkling rivers
Viola
She strung the curves of her body and began to play
Pouring forth frothy golden melodies and fine spun silk from her hips and breast
Weaving tapestries of luminescent green from strands of her hair
Rich baritone and clear birdsong alike wafted on her breath
Hollow carvings swept along her waistline
Thin and tenuous strings followed the slope of her neck
No fingers but hers could coax such music from beneath her skin
She was no accompaniment
She was a symphony
And no fingers but hers,
No fingers but hers
Pouring forth frothy golden melodies and fine spun silk from her hips and breast
Weaving tapestries of luminescent green from strands of her hair
Rich baritone and clear birdsong alike wafted on her breath
Hollow carvings swept along her waistline
Thin and tenuous strings followed the slope of her neck
No fingers but hers could coax such music from beneath her skin
She was no accompaniment
She was a symphony
And no fingers but hers,
No fingers but hers
Thursday, December 22, 2011
43.
I was not afraid,
no, I was not afraid
tonight
to walk back home alone
at 2 am without you
no
I was wrapped inside
this lavender haze
of kisses grins and puppy eyes
and wine
yes,
plenty plenty of that wine
which ties us closer
than we realize we
could be ever
yes, before
no, I was not afraid
to walk back home alone
I was floating far too high
above myself
and buoyed by your touch
above the sidewalk
drifting on your love
above the ground
cliché, cliché
yes, I know that this is
perfectly cliché
and perfectly
I am okay
and yours
oh,
oh.
and I am
yours.
no, I was not afraid
tonight
to walk back home alone
at 2 am without you
no
I was wrapped inside
this lavender haze
of kisses grins and puppy eyes
and wine
yes,
plenty plenty of that wine
which ties us closer
than we realize we
could be ever
yes, before
no, I was not afraid
to walk back home alone
I was floating far too high
above myself
and buoyed by your touch
above the sidewalk
drifting on your love
above the ground
cliché, cliché
yes, I know that this is
perfectly cliché
and perfectly
I am okay
and yours
oh,
oh.
and I am
yours.
Wash
I’d like to take a bath in candle wax but
I’d like to sit here with my dirty hair
and tell you you’re pretty
everything sounds like I’m drugged out
echoes pressing plastic wrap waves in my ears
everyone reads these poems, god knows why.
I’d like to just be
washed
washed
washed
bathed and cleansed and sung to
and swaddled
bring me your salts and back scrubbers
the suds to make me bright
the subtle cloths you’ll graze across my skin
bring me my rebirth
open my bones enough to peek inside
figure out what’s fluttering wildly
figure out what’s missing in there
figure out what’s broken
take it out and wash it
put it back inside
seal me up
repair me, my melancholy lover
mend my emptiness
and make me clean
I’d like to sit here with my dirty hair
and tell you you’re pretty
everything sounds like I’m drugged out
echoes pressing plastic wrap waves in my ears
everyone reads these poems, god knows why.
I’d like to just be
washed
washed
washed
bathed and cleansed and sung to
and swaddled
bring me your salts and back scrubbers
the suds to make me bright
the subtle cloths you’ll graze across my skin
bring me my rebirth
open my bones enough to peek inside
figure out what’s fluttering wildly
figure out what’s missing in there
figure out what’s broken
take it out and wash it
put it back inside
seal me up
repair me, my melancholy lover
mend my emptiness
and make me clean
Eulogy
what happened to our hearts
where went my aliveness
my dead is all that remains
so many dewdrops flushed down the plumbing
so many kisses ripped off our lips
cheap Velcro in the garbage
I’m just trying to be honest
lovely you
I promise
something curled between us and perished
slowly, cancerous and fading
its ghost still coming back to sting us
but once we were free
isn’t that right?
did I imagine this all?
once we were fresh and reckless
all cigarette smoke and tinkling bells
free beer in the moonlight
we must be out there somewhere still
perhaps someone new picked us up
changed our names
perhaps a teenager is using us for his own
for a time, until he dies, too
and then the three of us will float away again
at least we’re being resurrected somehow
by young people with pink fingers
we were young once together
and I am sorry this is what we have made of us.
where went my aliveness
my dead is all that remains
so many dewdrops flushed down the plumbing
so many kisses ripped off our lips
cheap Velcro in the garbage
I’m just trying to be honest
lovely you
I promise
something curled between us and perished
slowly, cancerous and fading
its ghost still coming back to sting us
but once we were free
isn’t that right?
did I imagine this all?
once we were fresh and reckless
all cigarette smoke and tinkling bells
free beer in the moonlight
we must be out there somewhere still
perhaps someone new picked us up
changed our names
perhaps a teenager is using us for his own
for a time, until he dies, too
and then the three of us will float away again
at least we’re being resurrected somehow
by young people with pink fingers
we were young once together
and I am sorry this is what we have made of us.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
I Will Come To You
when my soles are tired
and my hips are empty
when my eyelashes are blue
I will come to you
when the traps ensnare me
and my bones break down
when we forget what is true
I will come to you
when my heart turns cold
and misses older heat
when I am finished pushing through
I will come to you
when my flowers wilt
and the rain gives chase
when there is room for nothing new
I will come to you
when my harness snaps at last
and tethers stretch and break
when I have lost my hue
I will come to you
when the sky falls fast in shingles
and the ocean boils out
when Armageddon does ensue
I will come to you
when I’ve used up all my tokens
and I am left with only my own knees
when I cannot see me breaking through
I will come to you
when you’ve lost track of your feet
and the road grows rough
when you’re out of paths to turn to
I will come to you
and my hips are empty
when my eyelashes are blue
I will come to you
when the traps ensnare me
and my bones break down
when we forget what is true
I will come to you
when my heart turns cold
and misses older heat
when I am finished pushing through
I will come to you
when my flowers wilt
and the rain gives chase
when there is room for nothing new
I will come to you
when my harness snaps at last
and tethers stretch and break
when I have lost my hue
I will come to you
when the sky falls fast in shingles
and the ocean boils out
when Armageddon does ensue
I will come to you
when I’ve used up all my tokens
and I am left with only my own knees
when I cannot see me breaking through
I will come to you
when you’ve lost track of your feet
and the road grows rough
when you’re out of paths to turn to
I will come to you
Monday, December 19, 2011
You Deserve Better
smoking electricity between your sheets
and listening to your exes call you names
look at what they've all become
see the great things that they've done
(or not)
I want to write these poems across your forehead
across your chest
and make those assholes read them back to you
out loud
tell you how beautiful you are
tell you how perfect you are
you with your copper flowers
twisted heartstrings
plucked and fucked
they never deserved to skin your knees
and all I have is ugh
what liars
your frayed edges are precious to me
and I would fight for them
yeah, too soon, maybe
but I would kill for them
I would kill your broken songwriters and excuses for men
don't you worry, baby.
I've got more of a cock than they do.
and listening to your exes call you names
look at what they've all become
see the great things that they've done
(or not)
I want to write these poems across your forehead
across your chest
and make those assholes read them back to you
out loud
tell you how beautiful you are
tell you how perfect you are
you with your copper flowers
twisted heartstrings
plucked and fucked
they never deserved to skin your knees
and all I have is ugh
what liars
your frayed edges are precious to me
and I would fight for them
yeah, too soon, maybe
but I would kill for them
I would kill your broken songwriters and excuses for men
don't you worry, baby.
I've got more of a cock than they do.
Get Behind Me
you gold dust woman, you hateful thing
you stretched your tendril tentacles into my life
wrapped your sting around the wrinkles of my brain
and set your poison deep inside
and we never even meant a thing
no we never even meant a thing
(isn’t that right, darling?)
do you remember?
the time you said goodbye to me, goodbye
goodbye back to you, gold dust woman
with your ink blackness lurking in the background
you think you own me
I promise you, we never even meant a thing.
did you want to remind me?
was that what you wanted?
to pick me up and throw me around again,
to bring your stink back to me, to fold me up?
“I’m still here”
you say
“I’m still here”
and I
do
not
want
you
no one asked you to come
not now, not now
get back, you gold dust woman, you shapeless form
you fancy yourself a seductress
but all I see is soiled sheets and bloody napkins
you brought me in, you thought, you brought me
and I left, I left, I left, I left, I left
but was that too much for you, sweetie?
because you knew, yes, I was the best thing you ever had
your broken kneecaps won’t find the warmth I gave you
in those other thousand mouths you’ve kissed
everywhere I turn,
everywhere I turn
I see another one
have you seen the mirror, little girl?
do you look inside and find disgust and twisted hair?
feeble attempts at reconciliation?
is that what you tell yourself?
is that how you sleep at night?
well, whatever helps.
I want you to remember what I told you
those nights, when no one else would hold you
I want you to recoil in your glorious misery when you remember
how I asked you for your secrets
how I begged you for your ugly parts
how I wanted you so badly
not just all the pretty yellow boots you give the others
but the bathtub tragedies you never say out loud
the heaving sorrow you stuffed back down
the words that cut your arms like straight razors
the men that scarred you
the hands that beat you
the hopes that died deep in your breast
I loved you
I loved you
and you
said
no
well now I’m saying no, you pretty little Jezebel
I’m walking out like you did
doesn’t it seem familiar?
back off, gold dust woman.
I am free of you.
you stretched your tendril tentacles into my life
wrapped your sting around the wrinkles of my brain
and set your poison deep inside
and we never even meant a thing
no we never even meant a thing
(isn’t that right, darling?)
do you remember?
the time you said goodbye to me, goodbye
goodbye back to you, gold dust woman
with your ink blackness lurking in the background
you think you own me
I promise you, we never even meant a thing.
did you want to remind me?
was that what you wanted?
to pick me up and throw me around again,
to bring your stink back to me, to fold me up?
“I’m still here”
you say
“I’m still here”
and I
do
not
want
you
no one asked you to come
not now, not now
get back, you gold dust woman, you shapeless form
you fancy yourself a seductress
but all I see is soiled sheets and bloody napkins
you brought me in, you thought, you brought me
and I left, I left, I left, I left, I left
but was that too much for you, sweetie?
because you knew, yes, I was the best thing you ever had
your broken kneecaps won’t find the warmth I gave you
in those other thousand mouths you’ve kissed
everywhere I turn,
everywhere I turn
I see another one
have you seen the mirror, little girl?
do you look inside and find disgust and twisted hair?
feeble attempts at reconciliation?
is that what you tell yourself?
is that how you sleep at night?
well, whatever helps.
I want you to remember what I told you
those nights, when no one else would hold you
I want you to recoil in your glorious misery when you remember
how I asked you for your secrets
how I begged you for your ugly parts
how I wanted you so badly
not just all the pretty yellow boots you give the others
but the bathtub tragedies you never say out loud
the heaving sorrow you stuffed back down
the words that cut your arms like straight razors
the men that scarred you
the hands that beat you
the hopes that died deep in your breast
I loved you
I loved you
and you
said
no
well now I’m saying no, you pretty little Jezebel
I’m walking out like you did
doesn’t it seem familiar?
back off, gold dust woman.
I am free of you.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Christ's Mass
He is the tar black shadow roiling in pitch darkness
He is coming, silently the serpent coiling toward us
He is squealing warning trills to Sinning Peoples
He is the newborn screaming through wrinkled red lips
He is exalted, He is exalted
and who were we to say?
who brought Him here, to what end?
what were we to do?
worship, worship, worship
holy of holies
King of King of Kings
like Solomon
or Herod
He approaches pacing pad-like all around us
He waits for tender flesh His saber teeth may slash
He watches cold and heartless with a glinting eye
He is the newborn retching into manger scenes
He is exalted, He is exalted
and who were we to know?
all Men are made of water
so let us pray to Women instead
for they are tree bark strong and iron fast
He is coming, silently the serpent coiling toward us
He is squealing warning trills to Sinning Peoples
He is the newborn screaming through wrinkled red lips
He is exalted, He is exalted
and who were we to say?
who brought Him here, to what end?
what were we to do?
worship, worship, worship
holy of holies
King of King of Kings
like Solomon
or Herod
He approaches pacing pad-like all around us
He waits for tender flesh His saber teeth may slash
He watches cold and heartless with a glinting eye
He is the newborn retching into manger scenes
He is exalted, He is exalted
and who were we to know?
all Men are made of water
so let us pray to Women instead
for they are tree bark strong and iron fast
42.
I want to tell you
all the things I know
I especially want to tell you
all the things I don't
want to tell you
those are the things
I want to tell you the most
all the things I know
I especially want to tell you
all the things I don't
want to tell you
those are the things
I want to tell you the most
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Winter Song
I have given you a flower that only blooms in winter
it thrives in layered frost, fairies skating on its spreading petals
little rinks like engagement rings
it sleeps in summer, waiting for the chill
of December to coax it into life
and remind it of the miraculous cold
the ice, the ice
the wind
the breath of vigor in the early months
when the world is waking up
again
keep it safe
for it is yours
and only yours now
and it is fragile
I traced myself into its stem
so do not cut the thorns
this flower, with its dusky hues and frozen dew,
is my rib, my wrist, my right hand
my quiet parts that rise up in the velvet dark of winter
the velvet quietness
of the first merciful freeze of January
the freeze, the frozen place
inside my palm
and it will bloom in yours
but only yours
keep it safe
for it is yours
and only yours now
and it is fragile
it thrives in layered frost, fairies skating on its spreading petals
little rinks like engagement rings
it sleeps in summer, waiting for the chill
of December to coax it into life
and remind it of the miraculous cold
the ice, the ice
the wind
the breath of vigor in the early months
when the world is waking up
again
keep it safe
for it is yours
and only yours now
and it is fragile
I traced myself into its stem
so do not cut the thorns
this flower, with its dusky hues and frozen dew,
is my rib, my wrist, my right hand
my quiet parts that rise up in the velvet dark of winter
the velvet quietness
of the first merciful freeze of January
the freeze, the frozen place
inside my palm
and it will bloom in yours
but only yours
keep it safe
for it is yours
and only yours now
and it is fragile
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Moon Song
I promised
I would be your
moon.
(not stars,
not sun)
I will be Her
light
for you.
I will find
(your)
darkness,
make it glow
(a pale blue love)
I will be
round
for you,
bigger than your fears
I will be
everywhere
you are
silent and fresh air
guiding
cool and never
bright
but quiet
I will
illuminate
your steps
I will
stroke you(r
hair)
with moonbeam fingers
I will be
everything
you
thought
you would never
find
on
Earth
I would be your
moon.
(not stars,
not sun)
I will be Her
light
for you.
I will find
(your)
darkness,
make it glow
(a pale blue love)
I will be
round
for you,
bigger than your fears
I will be
everywhere
you are
silent and fresh air
guiding
cool and never
bright
but quiet
I will
illuminate
your steps
I will
stroke you(r
hair)
with moonbeam fingers
I will be
everything
you
thought
you would never
find
on
Earth
Friday, December 2, 2011
Jack and Sally
where you can always find us
curled together in a yellowed sofa
breathing
and I hope this night will never end
this start of something flowering and soft
living in patchwork clothes from dawn to midnight
sewing up our smiles
building new things together
you’re dusk in winter months
and your backbones underneath
my hands feel cold and inviting
like frosted berries
branches chilled bare
smoothed with ice and sleeping
I will wait for you
and hope this never ends
and hope this never ends
curled together in a yellowed sofa
breathing
and I hope this night will never end
this start of something flowering and soft
living in patchwork clothes from dawn to midnight
sewing up our smiles
building new things together
you’re dusk in winter months
and your backbones underneath
my hands feel cold and inviting
like frosted berries
branches chilled bare
smoothed with ice and sleeping
I will wait for you
and hope this never ends
and hope this never ends
Thursday, December 1, 2011
The Faerie Queen
whatever it may be
my little apple tree
I will carry it for you
with broken hands
but hands still
I don’t know how you found it
my dark blue echo voice
my call into the quiet
but you touched my throat
and pulled forth from it a swallow song
you’ve written poems on my skin
and for that
I’ll color you dusky violet
sing you baritone and rich
trace you delicate along your outline
and weep you into life
as best I can
for you, my sweet, for you
are all the bests of me
I’ll bring to you the tree we found
with blossoms hanging heavy
thick in air of pear-sweet honey
humming softly free
my faerie queen
for you.
my little apple tree
I will carry it for you
with broken hands
but hands still
I don’t know how you found it
my dark blue echo voice
my call into the quiet
but you touched my throat
and pulled forth from it a swallow song
you’ve written poems on my skin
and for that
I’ll color you dusky violet
sing you baritone and rich
trace you delicate along your outline
and weep you into life
as best I can
for you, my sweet, for you
are all the bests of me
I’ll bring to you the tree we found
with blossoms hanging heavy
thick in air of pear-sweet honey
humming softly free
my faerie queen
for you.
Sunday Morning Glories
bring me Sunday morning glories
hymnal books of cracking leather
softer black and golden
you knew me, yes
my raven love
you broke me in
now I have found my wings
it’s not much,
it’s not much
here, hold my Sunday flowers
while I step aside with her
there are things to say, to say
I have thumbed through dirt floors
trading fingerprints for puzzle pieces
misplaced years ago
all in vain
here, take what’s left
I’m left here robbed of mislaid parts
forgotten where I left them
I’m not much,
I’m not much
stick myself to you with Sunday school glue
you give me all the answers
Jesus, God, and Bible verses
mister preacher, may I be excused
I must linger in the back with blushing lips
may I press my lips on hers
and blush
she’s too much,
she’s too much
now let us pray
you caught me there, sweet thing
I saw your eyelids snap
this was all a dream, I fear
here, take these folded paper hearts
I wrote my name inside them here and there
it’s short, but pretty
pretty dresses, bows in back
crossing fingers behind pews and telling secrets
share this song with me
so much is missing,
so much is missing
hymnal books of cracking leather
softer black and golden
you knew me, yes
my raven love
you broke me in
now I have found my wings
it’s not much,
it’s not much
here, hold my Sunday flowers
while I step aside with her
there are things to say, to say
I have thumbed through dirt floors
trading fingerprints for puzzle pieces
misplaced years ago
all in vain
here, take what’s left
I’m left here robbed of mislaid parts
forgotten where I left them
I’m not much,
I’m not much
stick myself to you with Sunday school glue
you give me all the answers
Jesus, God, and Bible verses
mister preacher, may I be excused
I must linger in the back with blushing lips
may I press my lips on hers
and blush
she’s too much,
she’s too much
now let us pray
you caught me there, sweet thing
I saw your eyelids snap
this was all a dream, I fear
here, take these folded paper hearts
I wrote my name inside them here and there
it’s short, but pretty
pretty dresses, bows in back
crossing fingers behind pews and telling secrets
share this song with me
so much is missing,
so much is missing
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Petal Song
wait
piano keys are softly falling
on my fingers
breath
tiny breath that tickles eyelash hairs
sparkles between words
stop
I thought I heard you singing
was it just the evening
hold
wrap my hair around your arm
cut a piece for you
drop
drips the pearls of rain
along her nose
you
you are silver lilac in the summer
bathing me in your perfume
here
here is where I love you
in my little ways
piano keys are softly falling
on my fingers
breath
tiny breath that tickles eyelash hairs
sparkles between words
stop
I thought I heard you singing
was it just the evening
hold
wrap my hair around your arm
cut a piece for you
drop
drips the pearls of rain
along her nose
you
you are silver lilac in the summer
bathing me in your perfume
here
here is where I love you
in my little ways
Monday, November 28, 2011
41.
she has bones that crack and fracture
tracing feathered fissures up the lengths
she has blood that leaks and ribbons
out of her and into my wrist veins
she has skin that crawls and shimmers
glowing pale blue in the morning light
she has fingernails that break and slice
cutting sculptures into marbled me
she has eyes that burn and twist
like darker flames licking her eyelashes
she has hair that whips and curls
tangling into the stitches in my palms
she has feet that bleed and ground her
padding mulch and fallen leaves
she has breath that sweetly poisons and invites
like nectar from a honey flower’s vine
she has muscles that tear and roll
squeezing every string of sinew through their seams
she rains over me
a hurricane of black and gray
with perfumed water droplets
and she stares with mirror eyes
mirror armor stretched across her chest
mirrored back at me
and I am everything she has
and I want everything she is
tracing feathered fissures up the lengths
she has blood that leaks and ribbons
out of her and into my wrist veins
she has skin that crawls and shimmers
glowing pale blue in the morning light
she has fingernails that break and slice
cutting sculptures into marbled me
she has eyes that burn and twist
like darker flames licking her eyelashes
she has hair that whips and curls
tangling into the stitches in my palms
she has feet that bleed and ground her
padding mulch and fallen leaves
she has breath that sweetly poisons and invites
like nectar from a honey flower’s vine
she has muscles that tear and roll
squeezing every string of sinew through their seams
she rains over me
a hurricane of black and gray
with perfumed water droplets
and she stares with mirror eyes
mirror armor stretched across her chest
mirrored back at me
and I am everything she has
and I want everything she is
40.
I won’t ever be
the cornerstone
on which you rely
when storms shake
I’ll be shaking, too
my arms are weak
from pulling
my own weight up
the staircase and
I’m still prone to falling (hard)
but I can fall into
your bed
and lie with you
and catch some leaking raindrops
on my tongue
I can grow flowers for you
from the bottoms of my toes
and keep them certain colors
chocolate brown and gray
to match your eyes
maybe sometimes
I can hold you
when you shiver
in the wind (though
I’ll be freezing, too)
and some nights
I’ll be too cold
to open my fingers
and reach for you
and maybe you
could be there
with a chilly palm
of your own
the cornerstone
on which you rely
when storms shake
I’ll be shaking, too
my arms are weak
from pulling
my own weight up
the staircase and
I’m still prone to falling (hard)
but I can fall into
your bed
and lie with you
and catch some leaking raindrops
on my tongue
I can grow flowers for you
from the bottoms of my toes
and keep them certain colors
chocolate brown and gray
to match your eyes
maybe sometimes
I can hold you
when you shiver
in the wind (though
I’ll be freezing, too)
and some nights
I’ll be too cold
to open my fingers
and reach for you
and maybe you
could be there
with a chilly palm
of your own
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
39.
I have stopped seeing, only blurs and shifts remain
I have stopped feeling
echoes pounding through my arms and legs
of things that were once alive
I have stopped
I have stopped
yes, my eyes are shifting in and out
of clarity and blackness
I’m sorry, Mama, I’m sorry
I tried
I tried to keep my fingers crossed
and breathe clean air
but I keep smoking, smoking
tearing my skirts and my legs
and letting go
I know you wanted me to hold on
but my fingers grew so tired,
so
tired
and they slipped, and I fell.
I couldn’t help it.
and all I have left is
repeating
repeating
while I think
while I think
of something to say
I just want to sleep, Mama,
can you just put a warm cloth on my head?
but no, that will not do.
I’ve made my bed without you.
I read a book that says that we are right to fall
and I am trying to remember
whether that is true or not
“no one else’s rules” I said
“no more justification”
“no more shame”
but I am brimming now with shame
and I am trying not to be
ashamed
of that
I am hobbling along rough stones
and tripping into bloody knees
and raking gravel across my palms
and I am trying, I am trying
I am trying
please tell me
that is enough
please tell me
you don’t mind reading
another selfish poem
I have stopped feeling
echoes pounding through my arms and legs
of things that were once alive
I have stopped
I have stopped
yes, my eyes are shifting in and out
of clarity and blackness
I’m sorry, Mama, I’m sorry
I tried
I tried to keep my fingers crossed
and breathe clean air
but I keep smoking, smoking
tearing my skirts and my legs
and letting go
I know you wanted me to hold on
but my fingers grew so tired,
so
tired
and they slipped, and I fell.
I couldn’t help it.
and all I have left is
repeating
repeating
while I think
while I think
of something to say
I just want to sleep, Mama,
can you just put a warm cloth on my head?
but no, that will not do.
I’ve made my bed without you.
I read a book that says that we are right to fall
and I am trying to remember
whether that is true or not
“no one else’s rules” I said
“no more justification”
“no more shame”
but I am brimming now with shame
and I am trying not to be
ashamed
of that
I am hobbling along rough stones
and tripping into bloody knees
and raking gravel across my palms
and I am trying, I am trying
I am trying
please tell me
that is enough
please tell me
you don’t mind reading
another selfish poem
38.
I’ll hide it all inside my web browser
close the window
and swallow it down
hard
Me, I’m a surfer
of the saddest waves
coughing up that stuff
I promised I’d ignore
into the toilet
Saying “no
don’t worry
I’ll be right back.”
It’s not that easy,
No, it’s never that easy.
I keep flushing but
the bowl is overflowing
and my cats are scratching at the door
my hair is soaked with sweat
my breath smells rancid
imissyouimissyouimissyouimissyouimissyou
But Elvis Perkins, baby, you sure calm me down.
So I’ll hide it all inside an iTunes playlist.
burn one down
and give it to you
(don’t you see, and
don’t you see?)
“No, really,
I promise
I’ll be right back.”
Violence is always my answer.
Me, with my broken feet
my broken calves
my broken arms
and I fall into you with
water in my eyes,
helpmehelpmehelpmehelpmehelpme
Cutting up my face and hands
to watch the blood flow
down my shoulders,
and god-damn, it’s the
prettiest sight
I’ve ever seen.
“It’s not my dinner
that I’m heaving up,
I swear,
I just don’t feel well.”
I am ugly, bruised
and melting
into lovely gold-cured mead.
“I promise, really,
I will be right back.”
close the window
and swallow it down
hard
Me, I’m a surfer
of the saddest waves
coughing up that stuff
I promised I’d ignore
into the toilet
Saying “no
don’t worry
I’ll be right back.”
It’s not that easy,
No, it’s never that easy.
I keep flushing but
the bowl is overflowing
and my cats are scratching at the door
my hair is soaked with sweat
my breath smells rancid
imissyouimissyouimissyouimissyouimissyou
But Elvis Perkins, baby, you sure calm me down.
So I’ll hide it all inside an iTunes playlist.
burn one down
and give it to you
(don’t you see, and
don’t you see?)
“No, really,
I promise
I’ll be right back.”
Violence is always my answer.
Me, with my broken feet
my broken calves
my broken arms
and I fall into you with
water in my eyes,
helpmehelpmehelpmehelpmehelpme
Cutting up my face and hands
to watch the blood flow
down my shoulders,
and god-damn, it’s the
prettiest sight
I’ve ever seen.
“It’s not my dinner
that I’m heaving up,
I swear,
I just don’t feel well.”
I am ugly, bruised
and melting
into lovely gold-cured mead.
“I promise, really,
I will be right back.”
37.
baby it’s only 11:30
take the pressure off
baby it’s only 11:30
it’s not tomorrow just yet
baby it’s only 11:30
it’s all gonna be okay
just keep listening
just keep breathing
just keep going
baby
it’s only 11:30
it’s not all over yet
baby
don’t lose hope just yet
baby
it’s only 11:30
don’t be afraid
take the pressure off
baby it’s only 11:30
it’s not tomorrow just yet
baby it’s only 11:30
it’s all gonna be okay
just keep listening
just keep breathing
just keep going
baby
it’s only 11:30
it’s not all over yet
baby
don’t lose hope just yet
baby
it’s only 11:30
don’t be afraid
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
36.
She dug down deep inside her shadowed places
and pulled a tiny pebble from the cracks.
She named it after her favorite song,
and polished it until it glowed a opalescent blue,
and placed in it her shirt pocket for safekeeping.
She ran it through her fingers often,
fastened it to her wallet,
stretched it into string,
wore it as a necklace,
watched it sink and float,
tied it in her hair,
smushed it into glue.
She loved the way it smelled,
loved the way the turquoise glittered on her face.
"I'll keep you," she said.
"Yes.
I think I will."
and pulled a tiny pebble from the cracks.
She named it after her favorite song,
and polished it until it glowed a opalescent blue,
and placed in it her shirt pocket for safekeeping.
She ran it through her fingers often,
fastened it to her wallet,
stretched it into string,
wore it as a necklace,
watched it sink and float,
tied it in her hair,
smushed it into glue.
She loved the way it smelled,
loved the way the turquoise glittered on her face.
"I'll keep you," she said.
"Yes.
I think I will."
35.
I spoke with Death
last Saturday.
We shared a cup of tea.
He shook my hand,
and kissed my cheek,
and complimented me.
I told him that
I liked his suit.
He asked me for a light.
We sat and smoked
all afternoon,
into the coming night.
And when we paused,
he gave a sigh,
and smoothed his pearly hair.
He asked me why
I'd stopped to talk
and sip tea with him there.
I told him I'd
grown tired of life,
and longed for sweet release.
He answered, "And you
think that I
can offer you some peace."
I said, "I do."
And Death sat back,
and settled in his chair.
He thought a moment,
took a drag,
and met my puzzled stare.
He said, "My dear,
you've got me wrong."
I asked him what he meant.
"I cannot give you quick relief.
I'm wild and permanent."
He said, "I'm messy,
crude, and sharp.
I often make mistakes.
I'll hurt the ones you
love the most.
There's far too much at stake."
I thought on what
he said a while,
stamped out an ashy butt.
I said, "But someday,
you'll come back
for me no matter what."
"Indeed," he said.
"Someday I will.
But not today, I fear.
My brother, Life,
has told me I'm
to let you linger here.
"He says you've mountains,
book, and nymphs,
you've secrets left to keep.
He said that after
all this time,
you still have tears to weep.
"I'll come for you,"
Death said to me,
"but breathe until I do.
For gods and angels
without breath
are envious of you."
And so, with that,
Death took his leave.
A graceful thing he was.
I gathered up my
coat, and left,
with blood and brain abuzz.
And now, some mornings,
when I wake
to see the grassy dew,
I think of those who
draw free breath,
and I am jealous, too.
last Saturday.
We shared a cup of tea.
He shook my hand,
and kissed my cheek,
and complimented me.
I told him that
I liked his suit.
He asked me for a light.
We sat and smoked
all afternoon,
into the coming night.
And when we paused,
he gave a sigh,
and smoothed his pearly hair.
He asked me why
I'd stopped to talk
and sip tea with him there.
I told him I'd
grown tired of life,
and longed for sweet release.
He answered, "And you
think that I
can offer you some peace."
I said, "I do."
And Death sat back,
and settled in his chair.
He thought a moment,
took a drag,
and met my puzzled stare.
He said, "My dear,
you've got me wrong."
I asked him what he meant.
"I cannot give you quick relief.
I'm wild and permanent."
He said, "I'm messy,
crude, and sharp.
I often make mistakes.
I'll hurt the ones you
love the most.
There's far too much at stake."
I thought on what
he said a while,
stamped out an ashy butt.
I said, "But someday,
you'll come back
for me no matter what."
"Indeed," he said.
"Someday I will.
But not today, I fear.
My brother, Life,
has told me I'm
to let you linger here.
"He says you've mountains,
book, and nymphs,
you've secrets left to keep.
He said that after
all this time,
you still have tears to weep.
"I'll come for you,"
Death said to me,
"but breathe until I do.
For gods and angels
without breath
are envious of you."
And so, with that,
Death took his leave.
A graceful thing he was.
I gathered up my
coat, and left,
with blood and brain abuzz.
And now, some mornings,
when I wake
to see the grassy dew,
I think of those who
draw free breath,
and I am jealous, too.
34.
To hell with all these love poems
I don't need a hero
I need a bitch
I need a drug
You can keep your white, your sweet
I want black hearts
I need malice
I need cruelty
Don't hold me down in linen sheets
Pick me up and pull me away
Run me over
Beat me up
I don't need a clean new dress
I need a massacre
Get me started
Get me angry
Show me something new
Show me something new
Show me something new
And set me loose
I'll eat you up, I love you so
I don't need a hero
I need a bitch
I need a drug
You can keep your white, your sweet
I want black hearts
I need malice
I need cruelty
Don't hold me down in linen sheets
Pick me up and pull me away
Run me over
Beat me up
I don't need a clean new dress
I need a massacre
Get me started
Get me angry
Show me something new
Show me something new
Show me something new
And set me loose
I'll eat you up, I love you so
33.
If I get blood on you,
then I am sorry.
I never meant to stain your dress
(but I can't help it)
My bones are fractured, limp
and I walk slowly.
But part of me now holds out hope
that you can mend me.
I'd like for you to hold my hair, my hands,
and braid them gently.
Even though they're wet with vomit, slick,
and dripping on you.
You are a lovely girl
with arms of silver,
And life has not yet done with you the things
it has with me, dear.
I see the way you look at me.
I think I scare you.
You see the exposed sinew in my wounds
and stagger backwards,
And I must say, I cannot blame you, but
I wish you'd stay here.
For though my heart is broken already,
I'd like to offer you the rest of me.
then I am sorry.
I never meant to stain your dress
(but I can't help it)
My bones are fractured, limp
and I walk slowly.
But part of me now holds out hope
that you can mend me.
I'd like for you to hold my hair, my hands,
and braid them gently.
Even though they're wet with vomit, slick,
and dripping on you.
You are a lovely girl
with arms of silver,
And life has not yet done with you the things
it has with me, dear.
I see the way you look at me.
I think I scare you.
You see the exposed sinew in my wounds
and stagger backwards,
And I must say, I cannot blame you, but
I wish you'd stay here.
For though my heart is broken already,
I'd like to offer you the rest of me.
A Love Song to Mr. Hughes
My little white ass
wants you, Langston,
baby,
Langston, I want you.
Your cotton field streets
of Harlem
baby,
upset me, Langston,
you make me squirm.
(and I like it, I like it)
Those Weary Blues are
gorgeous sultry black
inside my eyes, my ears
and Langston,
baby,
I want it all.
And maybe I am
problematic, maybe,
maybe I objectify you(r
blackness) with this,
Langston,
but oh, all that I can be is
honest! Honest, I can't help it
honestly, I just, I
want you, Langston,
baby!
Langston, I want you!
These white walls,
this white skin,
my paler classmates
university-fed
on fresh grass clippings
lamp post songs
electropop
(but that is pretty,
too, I know)
and yes,
in here,
I want you.
My little white ass
wants you,
Langston,
wants your contrast
up against my skin,
my words,
my queer, your black,
I want you, Langston.
I want you.
wants you, Langston,
baby,
Langston, I want you.
Your cotton field streets
of Harlem
baby,
upset me, Langston,
you make me squirm.
(and I like it, I like it)
Those Weary Blues are
gorgeous sultry black
inside my eyes, my ears
and Langston,
baby,
I want it all.
And maybe I am
problematic, maybe,
maybe I objectify you(r
blackness) with this,
Langston,
but oh, all that I can be is
honest! Honest, I can't help it
honestly, I just, I
want you, Langston,
baby!
Langston, I want you!
These white walls,
this white skin,
my paler classmates
university-fed
on fresh grass clippings
lamp post songs
electropop
(but that is pretty,
too, I know)
and yes,
in here,
I want you.
My little white ass
wants you,
Langston,
wants your contrast
up against my skin,
my words,
my queer, your black,
I want you, Langston.
I want you.
32.
I want your shadows
I want your nasty, ugly, gross
I want your muck and mire
I want the things you've killed and buried
I want the curses you've made
I want the fires you've started
I want your fear
I want your shame
I want your weakness
I want the things you hate
I want the promises you broke
I want the tears you swallowed down
I want your regrets
I want your rock bottom
I want your suicide
And I will take them all
And wrap them in my sweater
And call them beautiful.
I want your nasty, ugly, gross
I want your muck and mire
I want the things you've killed and buried
I want the curses you've made
I want the fires you've started
I want your fear
I want your shame
I want your weakness
I want the things you hate
I want the promises you broke
I want the tears you swallowed down
I want your regrets
I want your rock bottom
I want your suicide
And I will take them all
And wrap them in my sweater
And call them beautiful.
31.
My old rival Shame
sits closely in my skin
and peers out through my eyes
and holds my fingers from the inside.
"Listen, listen here," she says
"I told you. Didn't I tell you?"
She creeps down in my shoes
and moves my feet
when I'm not careful
And even when I am,
even when I watch and wait,
I'll glimpse a shadowed leg,
turn my head to catch
a scaled backbone
rounding the corner
And I will say, "Hello? ...Is that you?"
And she says, "Yes, my pretty girl.
I am here."
and all goes quiet.
I'd like to sit and have a cup of tea with her,
but I am afraid
of what she might look like
in the light
For I have felt her serpent fingers
gently coil around my throat
and I have heard a hissing sound
within my ribcage
(and I suspect it is Her)
Her temper spans deserts
kicks up windstorms
stings my eyes
holds me down
and I am buried in a dune again
relieved of the burden
of breathing.
And when I lay me down to sleep,
she curls inside the bedclothes
holds me from behind
and whispers
"Do you remember?
Oh, don't you remember?"
She shields me from unwanted light
helps me keep my wits about me
reminds me of important things
(like how my legs feel
when they're spread wide open)
ugly things I've shared with her in confidence
She is smarter than I am, you see
and cunning
I want to tell her that I love her
that everything is safe now
that she can come out now
from the shadows
if she wants
But when I try to find her
she moans a low and angry sound
grows bigger, darker
Thunderheads roll down Her arms
Sheets of rain hurl from Her back
and She booms,
"Remember?
Oh, don't you remember?"
and I remember
why I always
let her speak
for me
sits closely in my skin
and peers out through my eyes
and holds my fingers from the inside.
"Listen, listen here," she says
"I told you. Didn't I tell you?"
She creeps down in my shoes
and moves my feet
when I'm not careful
And even when I am,
even when I watch and wait,
I'll glimpse a shadowed leg,
turn my head to catch
a scaled backbone
rounding the corner
And I will say, "Hello? ...Is that you?"
And she says, "Yes, my pretty girl.
I am here."
and all goes quiet.
I'd like to sit and have a cup of tea with her,
but I am afraid
of what she might look like
in the light
For I have felt her serpent fingers
gently coil around my throat
and I have heard a hissing sound
within my ribcage
(and I suspect it is Her)
Her temper spans deserts
kicks up windstorms
stings my eyes
holds me down
and I am buried in a dune again
relieved of the burden
of breathing.
And when I lay me down to sleep,
she curls inside the bedclothes
holds me from behind
and whispers
"Do you remember?
Oh, don't you remember?"
She shields me from unwanted light
helps me keep my wits about me
reminds me of important things
(like how my legs feel
when they're spread wide open)
ugly things I've shared with her in confidence
She is smarter than I am, you see
and cunning
I want to tell her that I love her
that everything is safe now
that she can come out now
from the shadows
if she wants
But when I try to find her
she moans a low and angry sound
grows bigger, darker
Thunderheads roll down Her arms
Sheets of rain hurl from Her back
and She booms,
"Remember?
Oh, don't you remember?"
and I remember
why I always
let her speak
for me
30.
I write in poems now; I think in iambs left to right.
And when I speak to you, they're flowers coming from my lips, not words.
The kisses I might plant will be perfumed and inked, and I will write them down on paper afterward.
And when I speak to you, they're flowers coming from my lips, not words.
The kisses I might plant will be perfumed and inked, and I will write them down on paper afterward.
Monday, October 17, 2011
29.
Her earlobes flower bloom
Out from her face
And hang like vines
All down her shoulders
Ants are crawling freckles
On her cheeks and nose
With spider lashes spreading
Spindly legs across her eyes
She is in motion
Her feather fractured bones
Creak swallow songs
And blood like wine
Flows sweetly in her fingers
A winking eye sparks
Tiny fireflies around her hair
With downy coats of bird fluff
Spilling free around her heels
I am warm
Inside her hands
Out from her face
And hang like vines
All down her shoulders
Ants are crawling freckles
On her cheeks and nose
With spider lashes spreading
Spindly legs across her eyes
She is in motion
Her feather fractured bones
Creak swallow songs
And blood like wine
Flows sweetly in her fingers
A winking eye sparks
Tiny fireflies around her hair
With downy coats of bird fluff
Spilling free around her heels
I am warm
Inside her hands
28.
I dreamed of you last night, my love, my love. Of your yellow sweater hugs, and I was crying as you left, my love. As you placed me into strangers' hands with care, my love, and rode with me to airports far away to sail back to my family, back to the safest place for me, my love, my love. I was crying and you held my hand, my love, just like you did that last December. Baby. You are my December baby. And all my loved ones fell, my love, my love, fell into death and stretchers and then you were gone my love and I was being held by some white-coated man. My love, my love, you left me there. I dreamed that you had let me go, had said goodbye and let me hold your hand while shuttles drove us to our last farewell, and I was crying, crying, silent tears along my cheeks, my love, my love. I drove myself insane with you, my love. I shook in meager clothes and you, you rocked me back and forth, my love. You placed me into strangers' hands to care for me in ways you never could. But I did not want to go, my love, my love. I did not want to be brave and alone, I wanted you, my love, my love, I wanted you and all your comfort on my skin, inside my hair. I wanted you.
And when I woke, my love, my love, I loved you once again. For you, my love, have held me up when I have drowned, have kissed my broken face and called it sweet. For you, my love, for you. I dreamed of you last night, my love, my love, I dreamed of you.
And when I woke, my love, my love, I loved you once again. For you, my love, have held me up when I have drowned, have kissed my broken face and called it sweet. For you, my love, for you. I dreamed of you last night, my love, my love, I dreamed of you.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
27.
your hair like lilacs
and silver collarbones
i want to touch
little and waifish
you are a pixie nymph
blossoming tiny florets on your fingers
i want to see what grows
beneath your bones
and wind it up around my arm
and for the life of me
i cannot understand
why you’ve picked
me
and silver collarbones
i want to touch
little and waifish
you are a pixie nymph
blossoming tiny florets on your fingers
i want to see what grows
beneath your bones
and wind it up around my arm
and for the life of me
i cannot understand
why you’ve picked
me
26.
I can’t get it out, I can’t get you out
I can’t get you out of my pen
Your ink stains hard, stings
I can’t shake you, I can’t
I can’t get out of you
That ink-black hair,
Those ink blot eyes
Those lips like blood stains
I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t
I forget you mostly,
but I shouldn’t have done that
I want in your system
I want to crawl inside you,
I should have brought your mouth to mine and made you forget
everything
else
I’m shaking, shaking, I can’t can’t
It’s been too long
It’s been too long
I can’t get you out of my pen
Your ink stains hard, stings
I can’t shake you, I can’t
I can’t get out of you
That ink-black hair,
Those ink blot eyes
Those lips like blood stains
I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t
I forget you mostly,
but I shouldn’t have done that
I want in your system
I want to crawl inside you,
I should have brought your mouth to mine and made you forget
everything
else
I’m shaking, shaking, I can’t can’t
It’s been too long
It’s been too long
25.
forget him forget him forget him forget him
sidle over here and let me see you
let your hair down over me
let your fingers go,
let your shirt hang loose
let me get at what’s inside you
I wanna see the roots and vines
that tangle underneath your skin
I want your breath in my veins
let me see those lips, girl
let me see how they bloom like flower petals
when you say my name
let me say your name
let me hold it between my tongue and teeth
and tickle the consonants and vowels
I wanna trace the knots in your back
and stitch up your broken places
forget him forget him forget him forget him
come over here pretty girl and let me see you
sidle over here and let me see you
let your hair down over me
let your fingers go,
let your shirt hang loose
let me get at what’s inside you
I wanna see the roots and vines
that tangle underneath your skin
I want your breath in my veins
let me see those lips, girl
let me see how they bloom like flower petals
when you say my name
let me say your name
let me hold it between my tongue and teeth
and tickle the consonants and vowels
I wanna trace the knots in your back
and stitch up your broken places
forget him forget him forget him forget him
come over here pretty girl and let me see you
24.
i want
basking in the glow of you
i want your glow, your light
i want it inside me
i have always,
i have always
i want your fast your wet
i want you the best way i know how
i want
elementary school hands and
middle school bras and
high school beds and
college love
and i have always,
i have always
basking in the glow of you
i want your glow, your light
i want it inside me
i have always,
i have always
i want your fast your wet
i want you the best way i know how
i want
elementary school hands and
middle school bras and
high school beds and
college love
and i have always,
i have always
23.
aches and pains behind my eyes and eyebrows
my head hurts
my heart hurts
i don’t know what else to do
sludging dripping across blank paper
i am terrible at this
i thought that was the last time,
no,
no there will never be a last time
who is here to help me?
maybe she was right and maybe i should stop pushing this hard
maybe i’m not cut out for this
maybe i should throw in the towel
i hurt, i hurt, i hurt, i hurt, i hurt
another day ends the same way
another cliché poem
another fucked up white girl from the suburbs
another tiny tragedy
i’ll just crawl back inside
and wait for the rain to come
my head hurts
my heart hurts
i don’t know what else to do
sludging dripping across blank paper
i am terrible at this
i thought that was the last time,
no,
no there will never be a last time
who is here to help me?
maybe she was right and maybe i should stop pushing this hard
maybe i’m not cut out for this
maybe i should throw in the towel
i hurt, i hurt, i hurt, i hurt, i hurt
another day ends the same way
another cliché poem
another fucked up white girl from the suburbs
another tiny tragedy
i’ll just crawl back inside
and wait for the rain to come
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
22.
I wanna write you a letter
and put a piece of my chest,
perhaps a collarbone or a fleck of sternum,
inside the envelope,
and it will make the paper all bloody
and I will be missing something (but that’s okay
because I would rather you have it anyway)
and you will open it up and think of me licking the stamp.
And the bone might break
or tear your shirt,
but you will clean it up in the sink
and you will mend the pieces with your sewing kit
and put varnish on it.
And while I am still bleeding from the chest,
you will bring it back to me.
You will place it back inside the cavity it left in me
and press my skin together,
and I will look even better than I did before.
and put a piece of my chest,
perhaps a collarbone or a fleck of sternum,
inside the envelope,
and it will make the paper all bloody
and I will be missing something (but that’s okay
because I would rather you have it anyway)
and you will open it up and think of me licking the stamp.
And the bone might break
or tear your shirt,
but you will clean it up in the sink
and you will mend the pieces with your sewing kit
and put varnish on it.
And while I am still bleeding from the chest,
you will bring it back to me.
You will place it back inside the cavity it left in me
and press my skin together,
and I will look even better than I did before.
The Natural Order of Things
Colonized and colonizing,
shout,
GLOBALIZATION!
ALELU!
This is the New World.
This is Manifest Destiny
of the
Soul.
Smooth that sticky
sex down
with Vaseline.
We were
never
children.
Shout,
REPENT!
CAPITALIZE!
Fall to your knees
and kiss the
mammoth dangling
purse strings.
Hear ye,
the dawning of the
Right Age!
Rubbing cleaner
hands
with oil,
lay a flowered
skirt
across her
pinkish
skin,
and call
her
“small.”
shout,
GLOBALIZATION!
ALELU!
This is the New World.
This is Manifest Destiny
of the
Soul.
Smooth that sticky
sex down
with Vaseline.
We were
never
children.
Shout,
REPENT!
CAPITALIZE!
Fall to your knees
and kiss the
mammoth dangling
purse strings.
Hear ye,
the dawning of the
Right Age!
Rubbing cleaner
hands
with oil,
lay a flowered
skirt
across her
pinkish
skin,
and call
her
“small.”
A Lesson in Art History
Kirchner had his
Palao beams
and his African statues,
and he called
them
“PRIMITIVE”
(decidedly non-
Western)
and We have
so much
to teach them,
don’t we?
Yes, Gauguin
had it
right.
Palao beams
and his African statues,
and he called
them
“PRIMITIVE”
(decidedly non-
Western)
and We have
so much
to teach them,
don’t we?
Yes, Gauguin
had it
right.
I'm Not Pretty While I Love You
I love you so much
more
than I can love you.
I’m tumbling over myself
and tripping
on your hems,
ripping your jeans
off (and not in the good way)…
I know you love me
and some days I don’t
understand
why.
How could you
love this
gangling clump of vines
falling all over
you?
You’ve hollowed a cushioned room
for me
inside your chest,
but I’m too rough,
too square and obtuse
to fit comfortably
today
and I scratch you.
And I’m sorry,
I’m so sorry,
that my faulty heart
is spilling
thick with blood
all down my shirt,
and I’m not pretty while I love you.
I have fallen too
many times
down the stairs
because of my own
clumsy feet,
and I am surprised
you even try to pick me
up anymore.
I am just a faulty pool
of thick blood
at the bottom
of the stairs,
and I am sorry
I am all I have
to offer you.
more
than I can love you.
I’m tumbling over myself
and tripping
on your hems,
ripping your jeans
off (and not in the good way)…
I know you love me
and some days I don’t
understand
why.
How could you
love this
gangling clump of vines
falling all over
you?
You’ve hollowed a cushioned room
for me
inside your chest,
but I’m too rough,
too square and obtuse
to fit comfortably
today
and I scratch you.
And I’m sorry,
I’m so sorry,
that my faulty heart
is spilling
thick with blood
all down my shirt,
and I’m not pretty while I love you.
I have fallen too
many times
down the stairs
because of my own
clumsy feet,
and I am surprised
you even try to pick me
up anymore.
I am just a faulty pool
of thick blood
at the bottom
of the stairs,
and I am sorry
I am all I have
to offer you.
For A Boy
if you let me
i could love you.
i could be the one
to tell you
when you have mustard on your face.
you say she’s the only girl
who knows when you’re hiding,
but i could be that girl
(if you wanted me to)
i could see you hiding
if i took the time to really see you at all
but i don’t have that time
or space
because it belongs to her
so i will step back
and let her
see you
because she was here first.
and i don’t worry,
because she loves you,
but i could love you
if you let me.
i could love you.
i could be the one
to tell you
when you have mustard on your face.
you say she’s the only girl
who knows when you’re hiding,
but i could be that girl
(if you wanted me to)
i could see you hiding
if i took the time to really see you at all
but i don’t have that time
or space
because it belongs to her
so i will step back
and let her
see you
because she was here first.
and i don’t worry,
because she loves you,
but i could love you
if you let me.
For A Girl
if you let me
i could love you
i could be the lips on your lips
the words in your hair
i could hold your hand
i could be the one sitting on your bed
watching you watch a movie
and running my finger
along
your
arm
you don’t see
what i see
and you have plans
and i know
and we are friends
(from a little further away)
and i like that
because i can be around you
and i like that
but if you wanted
if you let me
if you looked at me
(really saw me)
i could love you.
i could love you
i could be the lips on your lips
the words in your hair
i could hold your hand
i could be the one sitting on your bed
watching you watch a movie
and running my finger
along
your
arm
you don’t see
what i see
and you have plans
and i know
and we are friends
(from a little further away)
and i like that
because i can be around you
and i like that
but if you wanted
if you let me
if you looked at me
(really saw me)
i could love you.
Upon Seeing Him Again
i can feel your deep eyes
and i (don’t) want them back
and i (so) want them back
where have you gone, my love?
i pushed you.
my bare shoulders raise
goosebumps
at your ghost touch
still…
there…
gone.
i can still feel your dark eyes,
my love,
and i (still) want your
hands
hands
hands
like i had them updownaroundme
softly
why did i push you?
i wanted you gone
(i want you gone)
i want you back! my love
i want you back.
so badly i break at the waist
and crack
where have i gone, my love…
in my best days,
i’m here and you’re there and that’s good.
and when i lie down
alone
in the dark
i can feel your deep eyes
and i (don’t) want them back
and i (so) want them back
and i (don’t) want them back
and i (so) want them back
where have you gone, my love?
i pushed you.
my bare shoulders raise
goosebumps
at your ghost touch
still…
there…
gone.
i can still feel your dark eyes,
my love,
and i (still) want your
hands
hands
hands
like i had them updownaroundme
softly
why did i push you?
i wanted you gone
(i want you gone)
i want you back! my love
i want you back.
so badly i break at the waist
and crack
where have i gone, my love…
in my best days,
i’m here and you’re there and that’s good.
and when i lie down
alone
in the dark
i can feel your deep eyes
and i (don’t) want them back
and i (so) want them back
Mother
extending branchy leafed fingers into soil
i am Mother
reaching downward elbow-deep in mud
roots like rivers underground
snaking into
twisting into creeks that writhe between tree trunks
i am Mother
curve-backed and curling with my eyes closed
i am bubbling beneath your feet
and in your hands
one arm wild above my head and flailing
i am Mother
snarling swirled windbreaths gust outward
wisping from strands of hair and my eyelashes
unapologetic, i am whole
and i am dancing
and within you
i remain
the connection
you have no words for
i am Mother
reaching downward elbow-deep in mud
roots like rivers underground
snaking into
twisting into creeks that writhe between tree trunks
i am Mother
curve-backed and curling with my eyes closed
i am bubbling beneath your feet
and in your hands
one arm wild above my head and flailing
i am Mother
snarling swirled windbreaths gust outward
wisping from strands of hair and my eyelashes
unapologetic, i am whole
and i am dancing
and within you
i remain
the connection
you have no words for
The Secret
behind everything i say
and under my tongue
is the taste of you
i spend my time writing your name
on the back of my hand
(and i’ve been aching for you
sleeping alone again)
and i’m sick
the blame is fading
and we’re left stinging
and without
(but not wanting
(or maybe just
not hoping))
and now my photo album looks
like someone cut me out of a picture
and cut you out of a picture
and pasted them together
but
i still manage
to miss
the way
my chin
rested
on your shoulder
like the puzzle
we made
one evening
and all the others
have gone
and i can’t smell
or hear
or feel them
anymore
but you
remain
inside my clothes
somehow
and i suspect
that when i touch him
i’ll be touching you
and i suspect
that when i love him
i’ll be missing you
and under my tongue
is the taste of you
i spend my time writing your name
on the back of my hand
(and i’ve been aching for you
sleeping alone again)
and i’m sick
the blame is fading
and we’re left stinging
and without
(but not wanting
(or maybe just
not hoping))
and now my photo album looks
like someone cut me out of a picture
and cut you out of a picture
and pasted them together
but
i still manage
to miss
the way
my chin
rested
on your shoulder
like the puzzle
we made
one evening
and all the others
have gone
and i can’t smell
or hear
or feel them
anymore
but you
remain
inside my clothes
somehow
and i suspect
that when i touch him
i’ll be touching you
and i suspect
that when i love him
i’ll be missing you
Night
in the heat-blackness
youandi
we are the curve of your back
(and my fingers racing down it)
we are the scent of your lips on my neck
alone tonight(with all the World around us asleep)
inhaling the sweet water of this blanketed (past)midnight
we are your brown eyes
silent as wide oceans
we are moving like water over one another
tracing outlines,
smelling your skin like incense
i am a lazy creek winding down your body
we are the darkness
tonight
(when even after Night has fallen asleep)
we are still moving
we are our milky skin
and rapture that teardrop-falls down your flecked cheeks
how lucky we are!
to sing this tomorrowless tonight into one another’s lips
(and harmonious)
alone
alone
alone
we are (radiantly)
together.
youandi
we are the curve of your back
(and my fingers racing down it)
we are the scent of your lips on my neck
alone tonight(with all the World around us asleep)
inhaling the sweet water of this blanketed (past)midnight
we are your brown eyes
silent as wide oceans
we are moving like water over one another
tracing outlines,
smelling your skin like incense
i am a lazy creek winding down your body
we are the darkness
tonight
(when even after Night has fallen asleep)
we are still moving
we are our milky skin
and rapture that teardrop-falls down your flecked cheeks
how lucky we are!
to sing this tomorrowless tonight into one another’s lips
(and harmonious)
alone
alone
alone
we are (radiantly)
together.
Summer
it will be
the season
of nose rings
tattoos
and
kissing girls
it will be
green and leafy
with sun tan
leopard spots
on bikinis
it will be
ceiling-fan-spun
into swirled
hot yesterdays
and todays
melting
into tomorrows
it will be
asleep and dreaming
of winter
(but i’ll stroke its head
and tell it
i love it)
the season
of nose rings
tattoos
and
kissing girls
it will be
green and leafy
with sun tan
leopard spots
on bikinis
it will be
ceiling-fan-spun
into swirled
hot yesterdays
and todays
melting
into tomorrows
it will be
asleep and dreaming
of winter
(but i’ll stroke its head
and tell it
i love it)
20.
yes, i did think
we
were just
you and i
now
but
my life is a tangle
with you in it
(and never that simple)
so i dream
(yes, i do
still)
of you and me
as we
of your lips in my ear
of my fingertips
tracing the line
of your jaw
yes, i did think
those last words i read
would be the
last words
i’d read
but
you are a windstorm
blowing through and into
and now my things
are all
slightly
out of place
(and my hair
is messy)
and those teeth of yours
that have kissed
(and are kissing)
so many
other
teeth
yes, i do
still want them
in my mouth
yes, i do
still have you
under my tongue
and no words left
yes, this sad slow love song
that i’ve written
with you
in mind
still wafts
in my breath
yes, i did think
that we
were you and i
that we
had disappeared
but
there you are
again
there you are
and where
am i
we
were just
you and i
now
but
my life is a tangle
with you in it
(and never that simple)
so i dream
(yes, i do
still)
of you and me
as we
of your lips in my ear
of my fingertips
tracing the line
of your jaw
yes, i did think
those last words i read
would be the
last words
i’d read
but
you are a windstorm
blowing through and into
and now my things
are all
slightly
out of place
(and my hair
is messy)
and those teeth of yours
that have kissed
(and are kissing)
so many
other
teeth
yes, i do
still want them
in my mouth
yes, i do
still have you
under my tongue
and no words left
yes, this sad slow love song
that i’ve written
with you
in mind
still wafts
in my breath
yes, i did think
that we
were you and i
that we
had disappeared
but
there you are
again
there you are
and where
am i
The Plea
your toothy lamp smile
is fading
from me
as i lay
my fingers tremble
for your curvesoft
legs
hips
back
neck
to twist up
in your
black cyclone hair
(the net that caught me)
and i hate that
word
(you know the one)
because it sits between us
like a mockingbird
and territorial
i hate that
word
that too-small joking word
i would rather use
my paintbrush
to stroke
a canvas-full of something
far greater
than
it
i would rather say
barefooted nymph
padding grassy tree-growings
blossoms in your hair
plucking the lyre
i made for you
i would rather say
ribbon sea creature
body twisting with the waves
hair to your fin-tip
casting ripples
over me
i would rather say
hidden under sheets
wound into you-me-us
with fjords and opera houses and ruins
through our windows
wire bed frame
mingled languages
towers of books
like we always
imagined.
not a word
never a word
but such
deeper
truths
such sweeter fruit
more solemn
and spanning oceans
and i am filling
jumbled
crossed leftright
wantingbegging
hopeless pacing why
why and why
is this less
than what you wanted
searchinggraspingtear-filled
heart swell
(like you,
i want
too much)
and
i
breathe
eyes drift down
to fade into
the imprint you’ve left
of your
black cyclone hair
and
spider web fingers
and
your toothy lamp smile
and
all that’s left
is:
i adore you.
please come back.
i can give you the whole sky.
is fading
from me
as i lay
my fingers tremble
for your curvesoft
legs
hips
back
neck
to twist up
in your
black cyclone hair
(the net that caught me)
and i hate that
word
(you know the one)
because it sits between us
like a mockingbird
and territorial
i hate that
word
that too-small joking word
i would rather use
my paintbrush
to stroke
a canvas-full of something
far greater
than
it
i would rather say
barefooted nymph
padding grassy tree-growings
blossoms in your hair
plucking the lyre
i made for you
i would rather say
ribbon sea creature
body twisting with the waves
hair to your fin-tip
casting ripples
over me
i would rather say
hidden under sheets
wound into you-me-us
with fjords and opera houses and ruins
through our windows
wire bed frame
mingled languages
towers of books
like we always
imagined.
not a word
never a word
but such
deeper
truths
such sweeter fruit
more solemn
and spanning oceans
and i am filling
jumbled
crossed leftright
wantingbegging
hopeless pacing why
why and why
is this less
than what you wanted
searchinggraspingtear-filled
heart swell
(like you,
i want
too much)
and
i
breathe
eyes drift down
to fade into
the imprint you’ve left
of your
black cyclone hair
and
spider web fingers
and
your toothy lamp smile
and
all that’s left
is:
i adore you.
please come back.
i can give you the whole sky.
Cigarette
the way you held
that cigarette
(today)
like the rose bud
that is unfurling
petal
by
petal
like the pen
that bleeds
you
(into paper)
like a piece of me
(or how i hope
your lips
would hold
mine)
smoke
growing like vines
from your crooked teeth
and sinking
into my clothes
i want to bury myself in the sand of you
i want to grow my hair long
and braid it into yours
that cigarette
(today)
like the rose bud
that is unfurling
petal
by
petal
like the pen
that bleeds
you
(into paper)
like a piece of me
(or how i hope
your lips
would hold
mine)
smoke
growing like vines
from your crooked teeth
and sinking
into my clothes
i want to bury myself in the sand of you
i want to grow my hair long
and braid it into yours
Gifts
maybe all i
have
to give
is
a tangle of
black
and
white
words on
this page
perhaps
i should cook
(like he said)
or do laundry
but
in the deepdown
mud of me
i want to give
what i
need
and how
would i hand
a wind kiss on my shoulder
the green of a leaf
to you?
the blue in my fingernails
or a laugh on her red lips?
i could make bracelets
or spread
me
around
(if that’s
enough)
i suppose
i should
ask
what you need
first.
have
to give
is
a tangle of
black
and
white
words on
this page
perhaps
i should cook
(like he said)
or do laundry
but
in the deepdown
mud of me
i want to give
what i
need
and how
would i hand
a wind kiss on my shoulder
the green of a leaf
to you?
the blue in my fingernails
or a laugh on her red lips?
i could make bracelets
or spread
me
around
(if that’s
enough)
i suppose
i should
ask
what you need
first.
Love
carefully
…and slow
i would say
love
those poisonous four letters
that instantly
erode
green-chute couples
i would say
love
is it too soon?
no.
no, in love
or
love
and loving
her
is all at once
in me
and i can’t count
all the ways i love
in the stars
(even if i could count so high)
so this
is
one
one star
one heartbeat
one four letters
(one sadsweet too-small poem)
one one one
love
and dare i say
i love her
she would
run
but
i feel a love
that swims into the channels
woven in my chest
i feel a love
growing in my hair
i feel a love
that ribbon-ties our hands
and breathes into that
fuzzy place
behind her neck
i will not be her
construction paper valentine
nor will she be mine
and I Love You
between stiff greeting folds
will never do
but there is a secret
hidden in her mouth
and when i see her speak
i feel it
…and slow
i would say
love
those poisonous four letters
that instantly
erode
green-chute couples
i would say
love
is it too soon?
no.
no, in love
or
love
and loving
her
is all at once
in me
and i can’t count
all the ways i love
in the stars
(even if i could count so high)
so this
is
one
one star
one heartbeat
one four letters
(one sadsweet too-small poem)
one one one
love
and dare i say
i love her
she would
run
but
i feel a love
that swims into the channels
woven in my chest
i feel a love
growing in my hair
i feel a love
that ribbon-ties our hands
and breathes into that
fuzzy place
behind her neck
i will not be her
construction paper valentine
nor will she be mine
and I Love You
between stiff greeting folds
will never do
but there is a secret
hidden in her mouth
and when i see her speak
i feel it
Out
take me out
in the cold
alone Night
bright star speckles
silent
and Time slowed
to still water
sit beside me
but don’t touch
let the black
bleed between us
blindfold our eyes
leak into our lungs
take me out
to smoke and diminish
into frosted grass blades
hold the scent of me
in your mouth
and blow it through your teeth
look at my
eyelashes
(and don’t
speak)
quiet drift
along the
breezeless air
fold yourself
inside
and wait
for nothing to happen
take me out
in the cold
alone Night
and don’t ask me
why
in the cold
alone Night
bright star speckles
silent
and Time slowed
to still water
sit beside me
but don’t touch
let the black
bleed between us
blindfold our eyes
leak into our lungs
take me out
to smoke and diminish
into frosted grass blades
hold the scent of me
in your mouth
and blow it through your teeth
look at my
eyelashes
(and don’t
speak)
quiet drift
along the
breezeless air
fold yourself
inside
and wait
for nothing to happen
take me out
in the cold
alone Night
and don’t ask me
why
19.
but I um…
what
beauty oh, okay
sure beauty sure
you just um…
what
you just know it
(don’t you)
won’t get
better for me will it
will it always it will
be just um…
what
a struggle for me
won’t it
every day in day out
lovely you said lovely
yeah okay sure
what
beauty oh, okay
sure beauty sure
you just um…
what
you just know it
(don’t you)
won’t get
better for me will it
will it always it will
be just um…
what
a struggle for me
won’t it
every day in day out
lovely you said lovely
yeah okay sure
18.
Written here on skin
Does that make it more
Well what does it make it
Truer here on skin
Am I better believed
If I use a needle instead
You know, you know this
Is all just fill-in-the-blank
For your own bullshit
Does that make it more
Well what does it make it
Truer here on skin
Am I better believed
If I use a needle instead
You know, you know this
Is all just fill-in-the-blank
For your own bullshit
17.
but away
away a
way
take me
make it grayer
silent more silent
now go
and bring me
back
when you’ve done
but now wait
never no never
you will stay
you will
pull
my hand through this
leave me
not alone
but now (take) hold (of) me
away
away a
way
take me
make it grayer
silent more silent
now go
and bring me
back
when you’ve done
but now wait
never no never
you will stay
you will
pull
my hand through this
leave me
not alone
but now (take) hold (of) me
away
I do not know Maybes
I do not know Maybes.
Ifs, Perhapses, Contingents, and the like.
They are not from my neighborhood.
Now Certainties, I know.
We are comfortable together in our
solid, fact-bricked home.
We built it with our own hands.
Perfection is our neighbor,
and we try to keep our grass as nice as hers
(but our lawn mower isn’t as exact).
We have libraries of isms
and we organize them alphabetically.
On Tuesdays, we play bridge with Proof.
He always has interesting things to teach us.
We are not sure where the Maybes come from,
or why they show up sometimes
but we do not associate with them.
We don’t have time for their flower dances,
for the Conjectures and Irresolutions that visit them
and drink their herbal tea.
We have work to do.
Ifs, Perhapses, Contingents, and the like.
They are not from my neighborhood.
Now Certainties, I know.
We are comfortable together in our
solid, fact-bricked home.
We built it with our own hands.
Perfection is our neighbor,
and we try to keep our grass as nice as hers
(but our lawn mower isn’t as exact).
We have libraries of isms
and we organize them alphabetically.
On Tuesdays, we play bridge with Proof.
He always has interesting things to teach us.
We are not sure where the Maybes come from,
or why they show up sometimes
but we do not associate with them.
We don’t have time for their flower dances,
for the Conjectures and Irresolutions that visit them
and drink their herbal tea.
We have work to do.
The South
quiet bright 4:00 pm
curling heat waves inside my window screen
electric fan, stand still
this feels like a sweating glass of sweet tea on a creaky front porch swing
this feels like The South
The South
The South
growing up from watermelon vines
John Deer and scrawny dogs
falling off the back of a four-wheeler
this feels like a wooden ladder covered in lady bugs
jasmine spilling over the fence
and honeysuckle we eat gingerly like tiny beads
hot grass between my toes
this feels like the saddle leather smell in a barn closet
this feels like The South
The South
The South
curling heat waves inside my window screen
electric fan, stand still
this feels like a sweating glass of sweet tea on a creaky front porch swing
this feels like The South
The South
The South
growing up from watermelon vines
John Deer and scrawny dogs
falling off the back of a four-wheeler
this feels like a wooden ladder covered in lady bugs
jasmine spilling over the fence
and honeysuckle we eat gingerly like tiny beads
hot grass between my toes
this feels like the saddle leather smell in a barn closet
this feels like The South
The South
The South
Suprematist Composition: Gray on Darker Gray
While the serpent rolls her circles, circles, circles,
Down from between blood-red thighs of darker skin,
Drip coils writhing older than your folded hands.
Jezebel strokes her gnashing wolf pups foaming at the tongue;
She feeds them pearls for swine and slices of her ankle.
And open here your parasol, my dearest lady Juliet,
Eroding lacey rills of petticoat truffles venom leaking from the laces;
Throw it into the green dark wild with poison ivy,
Glistening red-leg vines extend a broad and curling leaf
In coiling, coiling Mother Earth, her knees from wine and muck.
We sing Her praises,
Holy Magdalene.
Down from between blood-red thighs of darker skin,
Drip coils writhing older than your folded hands.
Jezebel strokes her gnashing wolf pups foaming at the tongue;
She feeds them pearls for swine and slices of her ankle.
And open here your parasol, my dearest lady Juliet,
Eroding lacey rills of petticoat truffles venom leaking from the laces;
Throw it into the green dark wild with poison ivy,
Glistening red-leg vines extend a broad and curling leaf
In coiling, coiling Mother Earth, her knees from wine and muck.
We sing Her praises,
Holy Magdalene.
But This Time With Claws
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
16.
I watch you sink and I sink with you
Drowning in choked sand-air
Buried and burying still into the dunes
You are too weary
to take the glass of cool, cool water
at your fingertips
Oh, to bathe you with my hair
To fill your lips with beads of water down my cheeks
To resurrect you with what’s left of me
I would cut off my two arms
to see a shadow of a light
beneath those eyelashes
some day
Drowning in choked sand-air
Buried and burying still into the dunes
You are too weary
to take the glass of cool, cool water
at your fingertips
Oh, to bathe you with my hair
To fill your lips with beads of water down my cheeks
To resurrect you with what’s left of me
I would cut off my two arms
to see a shadow of a light
beneath those eyelashes
some day
15.
In time of
little breaths and
nibbled like leaves the tips of my fingers
into rose-hued longer evenings
In time of
unbidden unforgotten
back-and-forths
blood stains caked on denim knees
In time of
lilies, I lost track
sweet spit like honeysuckle stems
and broken secrecy
I will forget and find Me
waiting in the quiet
little breaths and
nibbled like leaves the tips of my fingers
into rose-hued longer evenings
In time of
unbidden unforgotten
back-and-forths
blood stains caked on denim knees
In time of
lilies, I lost track
sweet spit like honeysuckle stems
and broken secrecy
I will forget and find Me
waiting in the quiet
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