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Chaise Mar 2
People always tell me, “he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth,”
But how did his mother form a spoon of silver?
Was his mother made of gold,
Placenta made of diamonds?
Perhaps, instead, the doctor placed it
As he placed the eggs with daddy’s *****.
Where is it, then, can I find a silver spoon
To insert into my ******,
Believing my procreation will hold
It locked between her lips as she makes her exit?
Dreary days await,
Between a dying black mother and a teen
Without abortion options,
Between unaffordable housing and
The pricy whole food grocery store,
Between budget draining formula and
Deprecating comments from men without
**** - or kids.
So, tell me, then where is my silver spoon?
How can I put it inside,
Store it away to upcycle into education?
But it sure would be nice
Not to walk down to the corner pawn shop
And request an education - her education.
I’m not asking for a handout,
Because look where we are, drowning
Amongst failed startups in
Pursuit of the American Dream.
I’m asking for simple decency,
And for you to share with the future
The very means in which have buried
Your sensibility
To maybe lessen the anxiety
And suicidal rates of a country
Founded on freedom
That is trapped by pharmaceuticals
And the choice of living rich
Or dying broke.
I’m only asking for some decency,
To share your boat with sinking dreamers.
I’m only asking for you to plant a seed.
I can do the watering.

I’m only asking for a little bit of decency.
Chaise Feb 29
magic mornings here with you
grasping for a piece of grace
fingertips paint the fields
rooting within the ruin
Jan 2020
Chaise Feb 29
Options whirling as the past creeps upward
All the heavy desires and life long infatuations
exhausted the present's daunting boundaries.
To drive in this tornado, I could surely find the answer to
alter perceptions: a bottle of this, or that, a conversation
my mind disappears in. An alternate
reality that doesn't reside here, a reminder that
disease exists, the slab of stone this dream
is standing on, right beside the pedestals we
only kept each other on. The lonely words of gratitude
spreading smiles across our faces, pushing past platonic.

It's pulsing through my veins, fearing excitement is
about to turn to hesitation when my lips begin
to touch yours. Crumbling in the arena before we
get the chance to dance behind closed doors.
The lights begin to dim, flickering with rage.
Last but not least, please tell me one more time
of the thoughts you hear. Will you be defeated with
Golden shovel, pulled from The Well, song by Johnny Neiman
Jan 2020
Chaise Feb 29
The satiation that went unmet
Thoughts unraveling
As I touch the sky
Wrangled back in
Contemplating the exhilaration below
The dilemma of silence
Pushing the fog aside
To let myself feel
One more time
Rooting in elation
As branches dance in
Letting go of gravity

              Or trying to
Chaise Feb 29
Underneath the rubble
Long forgotten worms
Squirm above, below
above again
Searching for decaying
Fruits to consume
Recreating the beauty
Existing prior to the
Revised 2/10/20
Chaise Feb 29
my fingertips travel grounds untouched
Mountains known, thrashing through the skies
my eyes wander to the sights on every magazine
Little hideaways, masked within the archives

i strip the body in the mirror
Foreign attractions, morphing to native

my feet rooted over the dust
Crumbling statues, melting closer
my ears absorb the language of the wind
Ethnic songs, no one performing for me

i pare the mind healing me
Former homes, vanishing to nothingness

my palms press stained glass windows
Spiritual structures, exhaling grace
my hips wave through existentialism
Rejuvenating air, blanketing energy over me
Rev 2/28/20
Chaise Jul 2017
I'm writing ****** poetry
Because i dont know how else to say
I didn't go to your funeral
On that warm july Saturday

I only knew you died
On a sunday when i was at work on a tuesday

All i can think about are chips
You always made sure i had chips

I didn't go to your funeral.
I didn't take a shot of titos.
I didn't drink a bud ice or miller lite.
I didn't smoke a newport smooth.
I didn't get that tattoo you were gunna draw
I didn't play a game of pool.
I didn't tag public property.
I didn't teach the elderly.
I didn't save a friend.
I didn't play ukelele.
I didn't draw.

I only asked for chips.
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