We know best

Too bold! Too bold!

They shout from—Leaning

Crumbling towers of

Hot glass—Frozen

Faces cast glowering glances—Judgment

Reproach from the—Blistered

Mothers hell bent on smothering—Minds

Small children this—Invisible

Poison!

Wet coupling that bears no—Fruit

Labors long but until now it aged quietly—Old

As time this sinful union of  bodies so—Alike

Behold!

The unnaturalness of Nature’s—Vision

We see the dolphins—Raping

And yet

This cannot be so—Love

Panacea!

Epilogue

That the bleeding man weeps but passes no judgment least

not that we can hear the

lying mold on the pages seeps into the eyes of blind Justice

is tearing ripping away the crusty filth but still it remains a

poxy stain that sits on the lap of the preacher who is diseased

(Child of a confused translator)

This sin is washed clean by the putrid river Jordan but it

smells like heaven is rotting in the hot

summer moon but the cold glass

keeps them safe and away from our judging windows

The Ride Home

Music:  “The Orion Nebula” by Project Skyward

The sky shines

Bright pulsating

Powerful lights

Beckon and tantalize

Holding out possibilities

For weary travelers

And lonely pilgrims

This way

Shifting sands

Prairie lands

Fascinating flora

Painted fields of purple and gold

Roll away

Outside my moving window

Bouncing beats and

Shimmering sideways

The sounds of humming engine

Hemmed in by towering rock walls and deep shadows

We roll on

Destination known

Yet beyond this film of flimsy reality my mind can roam

To places I’ve never known

In dreams

Lips I’ve never kissed

Hovering so near to my face

(Music:  “Who are You” by Astralasia)

The intangible lover

Touching myself

On the arm

A tactile reminder

(Where am I?)

On the road, Homeward bound

(What is home?)

Solace and solitude

Interrupted by life’s demands

You must attend

Defending my kingdom, of space and time

Out of body experience, so much clearer than real life

Keep rolling

Dreaming

Don’t stop

I’m not ready for reality

To stop my mind’s drifting

Face forward

The inevitable

But not yet

Roll on

City sleeping

Who are you and what do you dream?

(Is he with you?)

I am coming

Moving closer

And the stars wink just for me

Dawn

She greets the morning fresh

And

New Sun warms her                             bare 

Legs                                                       her

Sex slick with                                     sweat

She despite 

The crisp morning                               chill

She 

Breathes in and

Out and

Her heart                                             beats

Steady

And 

                                                            Sure

Today is a                                         (New Day)

A day for golden promises

And 

bright                                                revelations

Not
Even the stench 

Of 

The city can 

Sway her                                            resolve

To 

See things clearly

For

She must ignore the                                 fog

Of 

The city that (threatens) to strangle          her

In 

a cloud of                                           progress

Unasked for

And

It’s out                                                 there

Just beyond her reach

But 

Today she will seize it

Slippery                                           tail

The 

Dreams that 

only last                                          night

Swam in a sea 

Of

                                                  (Unconsciousness)

Today is the day

To 

Catch a                                                fish

And 

Harness the sunlight

That 

Shoots out of her

fingers                             and                     toes

And 

Warms the cities heart

That 

Beats in time

With                                                           hers

Praying

The statue of the sad son of a carpenter

Stares down

Pierced your soul—if you had one to spare

Spires shred the clouds that bleed grey

Sanguine sanctuary of sickly Saints

Light bends round prostrate disciples

Colors unite on the bare floor—to sing silently

Pews groan

Shivering black curtain begs to forgive

Flickering flames light the way

Ragged rituals rasped out by rotting corpses

No longer are they men but like cloth washed too many times

Color has bled away to white and the linen pulls free from the thread

The altar boys of time slink down aisles

No more song from the choir of melting candles

For the once cheerful organ is like a

Starved child belly swollen

No food (hungry)

No alms (poor)

No salve (wounded)

The Virgin is the Whore of

Babylon striding across the empty

Tomb of lost children

Shuts the door behind her

(No more—no more)

Eat the Rich

It’s not your money that I envy the most it is your piece of mind

Easy for you to brag and boast “but we left no child behind”

The sweating masses of the working classes weaving life’s tapestry

It’s true they do not make a sound falling like philosophical trees

“We’re not to blame!” the high priests shout whilst staring at their shuffling feet

Meanwhile the liberal fools are dragged in chains from the temple upon Wall Street

When it’s time to set the evening meal and no food can be found for the plate

It’s clear to me that the fattest of we should be the first from whom we take

Untitled

Barn doors

Swing Wide

Fetchingly

Then violently

Lusting after the wind

They pitch and buckle

The howling is a Siren call

Demanding a reaction

Swift and without hesitation

Squealing metal as the rails

Give way

Wood splinters

Peeling layers

Folding onto itself

In a dance of desire

Self-fulfilling

Melting together

To answer the summons

The Howling Wind’s Fury

No latch can defend

This wicked end

Up Up Up

Higher they rise

Like red petals in flight

Stripped from the solitude

Of their lonely vigil

To house the farmer’s pride

The smell of hay whirling

Dust devils join the fray

Anxious mewing from frightened animals

Helplessly exposed

Their protectors have the battle lost

The Mother Storm

Cannot subside

Until the tribute is paid

In full

Wood, stone, brick and mortar

Crumble at Her feet

The tranquility will descend

Once again

But the hallowed gates

Will be no more

Faux Gnews

Pontificating

Postulating

Pouncing on words

A ricochet of sound

The haze and stench of pompous

Pointless

Pounding syllables

Silly fools

Droning on and on

The flies buzz with low-key noise

Locking in my brain

A prison of bullshit

Inside

The box with light illuminating my face

The disgrace of lies

Pontificating proudly

Pontius wash your hands

Cleanse us if you can

I need to be truth

Forsooth

Explain the pain

To me

Revolutions ring a decaying bell

The tolling tells me nothing

For the pundits peel away

The soft flesh of meaning

Leaving bones of bitterness

The bodies piled high

Weighing down the world

Atlas groans

But not that you can hear

Just press mute

Taking Back My Night

Taking Back My Night

I didn’t forgive you

I just forgot

There was pain

Humiliation

But the memory receded

Like a wave

From the shore of my mind

I remember saying “No

I have to go”

But you insisted

While I resisted

And the rest

Is a haze

In the morning there was blood

And disease

It was my fault

It never happened

It was your fault

I won’t forgive

And I can’t forget

Feminisms

Feminisms

I see you- Woman

See your smile

See your style

See you struggle with life for a while

I see the color of your skin

I see the shape you’re in

Fat or thin

I see the places you go

The people you know

I see you grow

Fast or slow

In the know

I see what others ignore

The roles we love to abhor

The Madonna or the Whore

I see the box they put you in

Living in sin

The labels they place on you

A Dyke

A Jew

Your love life askew

“Have I got a man for you!”

I see you change the mode

See you crack the code

I see you learn to love

See you rise above

I see you see me

Sometimes we do not agree

But we rail against the hypocrisy

Until there is no you

And there is no me

There is only we

Open our minds to see

Women

Clothes Shopping

Clothes Shopping

My pants are too tight

And it’s not all right

That my pants are too tight

I looked around at other bellies and I found

Pants On The Ground!

Flat and firm

The waistline can squirm

Like a worm on a

Hook

I’m scared to look

At your waist

Not your face

I feel a disgrace

What is this misconception?

I feel the need for redemption

My belly is round my breasts are full

I feel the tidal pull

The moon swells

I swell

This is the rule

Life grows in that small space

Stretch

Pull

Deface

I’m not a glutton

It’s just a button

Why all this emphasis on size!!

Reprise

Demise

Skip the fries

I feel the need to disguise

My thighs

Surprise!!!

A word to the wise

This is not about my size

It’s pride

Inside

Not to hide

But to love

Me

Fuck you button!!!!

You cannot define me

Confine me

Design me

Re-align me

Let me un-do

Change the view

Release

The beast

---Breathe---

---Sigh---

This is all of me

Free

Can you see?

Just be.

Scrutiny mutiny

Ooooo poetry is fun.  Whoever said that was on drugs or lying or both.  It's hard work sometimes and feels like giving birth to a pineapple upside down but maybe now and again the word "fun" might qualify.  Case in point...beat poetry.  That is fun stuff!  Just bounce along to the sounds.  I'm going to start this blog off with some stuff I wrote before I took an actual class on poetry.  Simple and silly on paper but there is a dance that goes along so try to imagine if you can. Then I'll post some things I've written that is called "muse work" by my professor, some complete shit and some slightly interesting.  That being said it is truly terrifying to open oneself up in this way so anyone reading this I say "have mercy" and thank you.