I saw the familiar
rose-flush dust
shoot from my
fingertips,

the day
I finally
decided
to snap out of it.

I had forgotten what lived inside me.

I snapped again
at the
worrywart hut
I'd created
for myself
to live in.

And again, once more
for all time
gone
to my mind's

incessant banter
and going-on's
with
the
flirty,
too flirty,
doubting Adonnis.

The fog was heavy,

in its resilience against my
needs
to get it right,

overtaking me in confusion,
making me forget

the reality
that lay beyond it.

Its grip was choking,

sending me reeling
through a
soul-tainting realm

I hated
I knew so well,

grasping

for anything
to hold on to,

anything that
looked
like

Life.

So,

with the moon
tonight,
I weep

for the many suns
sacrificed
to
Unbelief

and
the parts of me
permitted to be
plagued
by

poison
and
malpurpose.

Though,
with the same tears,
I will thank my God
that I can at least
see
what lies
within me

and again, once more
while the moon is still bright

for the gift to feel
remorse.

We're all human here, right?

Why, then, is my side, most human,
Something bidden I hide?

---

Mockings chant their mocking things,
Swinging from the hinges of reality.
While, sneers and jeers born from,
Overgrown fears,
Leave small ****** in my ripe heart -

Unceasingly.

At the door, my mind assured me, go,
And my feet, those dumb things, did listen.
Went right into havoc,
Wreaked solely by tragic,
Souls, so pathetic, I can't even stand it.

Who's ripping up my soul so darkly,
Save, me and the audience I've made?
Surely, the swift-sounding people,
With valiant battles to battle -
Are too busy to waste time at the gallows.

You dug the hole,
And jumped right on in,
I merely picked up the shovel,
And finished it.

Though, now, my heart aches,
So red and opaque,
Curse you,
For doing you in.

07.2011

Are my scars saying words,
Too frankly to you?

What of my wounds,
That have yet to heal?

Is my courage too loud,
For you, Sir Proud -

Am I too brokenly real?

Shimmy wild
Shake down -

This is some
Railroading
Existential
Trolling
****.

I’m plugging in-

A glaring glitch
In your singular
Reality.

You’re completely
Right
If you think I’m
Taking advantage of the fact
That you
Think
We’re all just
Programmed players
In your
Sacred
Existence.

My iridescent snicker
Isn’t what’s up for debate
Buddy -

I know there’s a coyote
Lurking about
Somewhere
And I’m gonna let that
*******
Chuckle & buckle
Up
Until I lose it
In the
Trippiest corners
Of your mind;

Whistling like
Whispers
Where words
Sound like
Wonders

Bathed in
Confusion
At its best.

I’m gonna make you
Wonder
If you’ve ever
Waken up
At all.

--

Gear hopping
Daily
From your
Native system
To
“What the hell’s
Even
Going on anymore?”

Don’t worry
Though
Darling.

I only switched
The blues
And the greens.

You’re only sleeping
If you believe
You are.

What has made
this lioness of
the high stars
above-
queen of the
great safari -
cower on
rough,
quaking knees,
before her
mighty throne?

I blame his
brown,
dripping
eyes
that could
so easily
****** away
her roar,

And the
silken sweet way
he plays his
magic flute
as if to
charm
the great
Black Mamba.

He jests
with a heart
so full and
merry,

So light
upon his feet,

I'm to my own,
before I know it,

My heart beating
to his beat.

He's found a power
more mighty
than pride,
more great
than power
itself,

I am on my feet
and to my knees,

Bless Me.


And, You -

For allowing me
favour.

I laid nose-to-nose, in tall, old grasses, with a spirited coyote, some nights ago.
He said to me, with lips unparted and low, shiny eyes - to listen.

Hesitantly, I inched forward and nudged that coyote with my face, prodding him for something more.

But, nothing came.
He simply stared back at me, unblinkingly.

“I listen!”
I shouted with a heart on fire.
“I listen more than anyone I know!”

The coyote continued his staring game, quieting my bosomed flames.
Stubborn - they erupted, something ugly, from the valley, into the mountaintop.
Spilling from eyes, in the mountainside, I screamed back into his so loud,
The mountain ached from its shut in echo.

Patient " the coyote waited.
So, I stopped.

Somehow surprised, I found that, after the flames subsided into greys of ashes, in silence, I had begun to listen.
That coyote’s eyes were urging eyes, unmoving " unrelenting.

Obedient, I drew forth my worn, careful bag out and placed it, gently, in the dirt between us.
The coyote snatched it, in the grain between our breaths, and held it between clenched teeth.

I glared at him with challenging eyes " he stared back at me, just the same.
I reached out to grab it, but halfway there, I heard the coyote command me,

“Stop.”

The coyote lay there, my ashes raging about loudly " still silent, my bag between his teeth.
As the ashes settled, his glaring eyes mellowed, and I watched as he gobbled it up.

--

A crow cawed somewhere.
The full moon shone down approvingly.

My soul sighed once.
My body followed.




The coyote slept -
I bowed my head in silence.

Surely these surly bits
Must be burrs caught up in my
Makeup -

Making up reasons for
Why my spit was accidental.

I done been through a
Rough patch or two -
Crawling with these
Thorns in my knees
Across funky plateaus
That poke their chests out
In their scouts
For sunnier flora.

Though,
I assume their search
Didn't go over so well.

'cause these scabbings won't heal
Like I want them to,
Buried under gobs of
Ointment
That was supposed to take care of it

(And
One more bandage
Just in case).

I'm just moseying on through,
With my feelers out,
Making sure you're someone
I have to know.

In and on my way
Somewhere
In this crazy field,
Waiting for sunflowers
To bless my prayers
While I continue to
Make room for myself to
Slip past
Without being noticed.

I'm smiling so hard
To keep the soft-hearted
At bay -
Trying to avoid being forced
Into pinpoint relations
With clueless drifters
Who refuse to stay on their side.

They only mean well -
I know this,
I do.

But, the simple has yet to escape me.

Send your
Sympathies
To the weak ones,

Roleplaying
Alongside the meek,

For these are the creed
Who,
Without giving heed,

Deliver their lives
To bliss.

I ain't afraid to tell the world,
That you make me,
What I hate most.

That the jellybean drops,
Slippin' from your lips,
Spread like,

Dollops -
Sweet butter,
On toast.

Can't hide my sticky fingers -
Drippin' your,
Candy residue.

Though, I plan to make,
The best of it,
Before the moon is new.

My sternest strategies,
'neath the night's eyes,
Light my ***** little schemin',

My plot to watch,
Your every step,
Before the moment,
That I steal you.

--

I've been eatin' jellies,
Since I was little -
Today, I've tasted so many,

But, the ones that slip,
(And, sometimes, skip)
From that head,  

Drive my thoughts,
Out, much,
Too selfishly.

There's a sea-gem in that sand you're in,
Buried a ways away.
She beams so loudly, in that way that she beams,
Whether the sun smiles at her or not.

There's a tree-gem in that sand you're in,
Fallen from her green-top loft.
Sweetly, she glows at the jewels that she's grown,
That, now, sing of their granted agendas.

She's a free-gem, that tree-gem,
That, sometimes, calls herself sea-gem,
Quietly, carrying out her duties, with smiles.

But, she longs to be found,
That green-gem, some rounded,
By you, poking at rocks and dry clams.

*07.2011

I don't want to be a speck in this ocean of humanity.
I don't want my words to be so small and obscure that even the keenest ear, still, cannot hear.
I don't want to be tossed and kicked and shoved about, like the speck I fear I am.
The speck that floats & sweeps and glides & sighs - the speck that will never be examined.

I breathe.
I live.
I mean.
I am.

I don't want to be invisible.

---

The world is one big bustle after another - people pushing and shoving, only to sleep and repeat?

I am the one you bumped into, in a race to catch the nooner to downtown Detroit.
I am the girl you stumbled past, in your rush to catch another cab.

I am the flower ******* McKenzie who sold you more marigolds.
The waitress at PJ's who asked, "More cream?"
The cashier at Aldi's who bagged your Arizona.

I am that ticket taker at Cinemark who gave you your stub and genuinely hoped you would enjoy your movie.

I am the girl you're seated by, right now.
This instant.

So close, you can hear her soft breaths;
So close, you can nearly smell her perfume;
So close, and still...
You stand.

You gather your things, get off the train, and run off to catch another, what?
Bus? Plane? Cab?

You're gone.
And, I'm here.
And, I'm still the girl;

The girl who might have been your soulmate.
But, you traded me for 15 minutes of silence and a bed you'd sleep in alone.

---

I don't want to be a speck in this ocean that is your world.
I want to be a boulder.

I want to mean something,
And be something,
And exist to you.

So, STOP.
I'm here.


"Hello."

A degree above that happiness
That makes you want to
Squirm about, for-
What seems-

No
Apparent

Reason.

I see you.

Peering through your chainlink fence,
Anxious to see what’s going on outside,
But, not enough to actually come out here.

With your rickety lock and rusty old key,
Ready to lock me to your fence,
But never considering locking me behind it.

I can see the scars you fail at hiding,
From prisoners who got away.

But, why can’t you see,
That you really don’t need,
That fence or that lock,
Or that key to keep me?

Take down this fence,
And, let me step in,
To love you completely and let you breathe easy.





I do have eyes that work.

*06.2011

My bowl is empty.

Bits, spits, and washed out leaves.

The curling twig swims through circles,
Drowning in broken squares that look like triangles.

Crying in Spanish dance halls,
To the smell of jagged smiles.

Leave me a piece, a whiff, a touch,
To sigh, sorrowfully, with sweet incense.

---

Sunflowers and posies,
Nuts and bolts,
Painters of all things lovely,

“Circle my heart,
Cut it deep, with an ‘x-‘
Your riches are buried forever.”

*06.2011

(You will make best use of the following words, if you open the Savannah, Within A Month poem, in another tab.)**

It was brought to my attention that I somehow managed to write ALL of the emotion but too few clues in my piece to relay the entire story.

Though, this was done intentionally, due to my reluctance to actually tell the whole story, I do want you guys to be able to read the words written in between the lines, without my losing what I’ve created, by undoing the strings that weave in and about the poem:

In case you missed it, Judy first reviewed my poem commenting on the wistful feeling that appears throughout the piece and the additional sadness at the end. She thought that, perhaps, my father had left us.

Well.
Yes…and no.
This piece is a really twisty thing of a piece that hangs off the edge of, “Oh, I get it!”
… even for me.
But, it’s that deja vu bit that makes it hard to grasp.
So, let me lay out a few things:

The airport bit, at the end, was referring to when I would leave for Savannah
…indirectly “because,” of my dad leaving.

But, it was just a mental leaving, that happened.
He never actually left.

All of the emotion was there, but I chose to write, instead, about me leaving for Savannah, rather than my dad leaving for another woman.
So, I end up talking about what actually went on, but instead of ending the story with, “and then he left,” i end it with, “and then i left.”

I tend to have trouble putting issues I haven’t actually dealt with yet, into words.
I apologize.
But, somehow, talking about a direct “result” of the issue was easier.

But, the whole foreshadowing of his leaving (which is written in between the lines), shows up throughout the entire poem:

The mood of the relationship between my parents was written into the first stanza.

The way mum thought about the issues between her and my dad, into the second stanza.  

Me wondering about deja vu (and indirectly, from my current standpoint, the deja vu i had just recently (that im almost sure i had then - about them splitting)) + Mum’s frustration and the effect it was having on her, into third stanza.

My attitude about her burning her finger bc of my question, in the fourth.

Her brushing me off about all of it, in the fifth.

My attitude THEN about her brushing the question off + my attitude NOW about her brushing the entire situation off, in the sixth.


-Then, actual recent accounts of deja vu come into play-

I asked dad if he was “working late at the office again,” -
But, immediately, i zone out, bc i’m experiencing deja vu,
(the smell of grits, i inserted to, in a roundabout way, say that it was somehow connected to the earlier events in childhood),
except this time, though it felt like deja vu, it seemed as if i foresaw them splitting when i was younger, but i was seeing it…….just then?

(deja vu is already confusing - and this little twist on it took me for a spin!)

Either way,

The stolen wine bottle was from the deja vu i'd had - It is placed to foreshadow an event that WOULD take place (there is a literal wine bottle i need to secure lol),
But also, since it felt like a foreshadowing, in the past OF the past, the wine bottle symbolizes my parent’s marriage being stolen by another woman.

The still frozen cookies symbolize me feeling like I was, somehow, stuck in my childhood, when it all was happening.

P.S. Not relevant to the understanding of the story, but the cat doubles as me, attempting to get the answers I wanted. I wanted her to just "realize" and use her mother's intuition to just "know" what to say to me and how to say it. But, she didn't. "So, I just asked."

in the darkest part of my mind,
the dingy loony bus idles.
curiosity has foggied up my gray cells.
leftover bits, orange scented peels,
many questions i've left unanswered,
hide in bleak obscurity.

in the darkest part of my mind,
urges to be the me i’m not,
whisper their desires for freedom,
into the static air,
while lighthearted memories of kisses ago,
crumble under the weight of worry.

in the darkest part of my mind,
I cower in the shadows of intimidation,
over papers due in the morning.
bites and fights drown in an overflow of sweet burning,
with discarded pencils and bottlecaps,
and memories lost in laundry.

in the darkest part of my mind ,
the logical makes no sense.
swirls of confusion, reason,
love and distress,
faded memories seeping through gaping cracks,
hair strands sleeping amid teeth.

in the darkest part of my mind,
chewed and smoked tobacco leaves,
taunt their slaving victims,
as cherry blossoms fall from their branches.
empty words twitter back and forth,
hovering between the breezes.

in the darkest part of my mind,
the heart I adore and adore and love,
sours before I know it.
touches have lost their savour.
words and their meanings duck and hide,
the novel falls open to a new page.

in the darkest part of my mind,
friends laugh their laughs and dance.
mom screams at broken dishes,
dad sings his song his song his… tale,
and I write my soul away.

*02.2010

It's killin' me,

the way you always
heed my silent becks
to the cat's cradle
for the dim-dusked
shimmyings we do,

for the middle of the courts
hopscotchin' we improv
in the
catacorner criss-crosses
we continue to let
splash
in the middle of our
bashing pool.

stakes are
brimstoned
high
this time-

higher than the dizzy chicks
with flower magic
stick-on things
not really covering their ******* -

their faith's got them
grinning down
proudly
to the matrix hubbub below,
from the drooping shoulders
of their guy bits
in matching flowers

('cause we're all one here
yeah? - yeah!).

tonka tricks
litterin' my walkway -
slinkin' around,
tryna play on with
the big cats -

instead,

just trippin' up my
flutter game -

chill out.

i mean,

i'm not complainin'
'bout the mess your
charcoal lashes keep
leavin'
after payin their
naughty boy dues
to them round things
just one step down -
makin' love to
the apples bobbin'
in cheeky
conversation.

i've kinda got this
cheshire thing goin' on -
the way my smile swells
too slowly for you -
showin' off whiffs of
those secret things

the ones i only hold onto to
to keep rattlin' your cage
with the big toys
i keep tellin' you
you can't have.

but
you keep
swimmin' in that pool
of excessive *****
traps
thinkin' there's a way
to ****** the magic
carpet from beneath my
bottom,

believing some dumbly
that your charcoal
is the only fire starter i'll ever want
markin' up my agenda.

you're screamin' a bit too loud
now, Cubby -
readin' to me the words
i can't see written across
my face.

I can't see 'em
without a mirror,
though i can feel the letters
being etched into my skin
with every flipped card
i wasn't
necessarily
tryin' to flip.

but, honey
i got cosmic dust
stored in my fingertips

a special
spunky mix
i like to throw down on
in the kitchen with
the sandman's concoctions -

plan A and plan B
it's a fight just to see in -
need to be prepared
for whatever is comin'.

though you ain't snatched
the rug yet,
i'm lollygaggin' on the
tip of the edge

my carpet's doin this
rufflin' thing -
and i'm slippin'.

you got me
colonizin' your corduroys
draggin' my stirred and ragged heart
behind me -
too sturdy and ambitious
in its wild-hearted
persistence.

gonna bust open
this fruit bloom, here
if it takes me all day
and all night.

I am
an ant,
looking for salvation
in big places.

Five-pointed geometry lesson,
Abated in eternity,
Candles beating the shadows away,
Awaken.

Sweet desires sung into whiffs of hearing,
And, questions awaiting answers.

Then a familiar ear turned into a familiar voice,
I’m here, my dear, right here.

my fingers were beginning
to love that couch

they loved it so heavily
burrowing deep into
the cigarette burn
that scratched against
the underside
of my thigh

i could’ve been banished
to that couch -
to that moment
in time

for two forevers

and loved it thrice holy.

my eyes were beginning
to love that wall

that blue wall
with its paint racing
so anxiously for
the floor bowing
beneath your feet

the porch

the wood
underneath this
couch, with its
pancake cushions
sizzling beneath
the cool points
we were boasting of
in each other

i hadn’t known it then
but i sure know it now

the birds were singing out
my name

while i shuffled
quickly
and threw out
swiftly
the next card
to be played
in the game.

Broken lines dangle between
Vital voices at Waterloo.

Slick Rick on one end,
Skips and laughs-
Parading his mangled heart
On his crookedly stolen stick-

Draws circles with it
Around a blinking fire
That has risen,
Around some bush.

Olive sits firmly,
Scissors in hand,
Eyes shut, palms to the skies,
Though,
She skips and laughs sneakily,
Crying out, please, oh Popeye,
Save me!
Having slipped out of the bind,
Rick put her in.

6 Silver bunnies,
With empty pockets,
Sit, twitching
On gold mine expenses,
Looking for those who will come
With precious carrots,
Once word spreads of their
Glinting furs.

you're not half bad
at your candlewick blossom snuffing -

got your braggart game up loud
in your repetitive silence
beaming at the doting strange phoenixes
darting in between your
bending fingers,

snatching up my flames
in their return to their
static progress on
life skills that are lingering
far too long
in the forging stage.

baby, baby
please -

tell me those aren't
your voices
slithering up the tall
columns of echoes,
wailing out
overzealous,
too pompous
orations.

nevermind -

my mind's pretending
to sleep somewhere marvellous
in this mind-field
of
the littlest
pink *******,

trying to act like
i don't suddenly feel
as if
the tomorrow
up next
will be bringing
a different star.

so i just sit here -

pointing my toes at occurrences
that i really wish had've gone down
a whole lot more
differently,

praying that
by some miracle,
tossing a bit of dust
from my careful bag

(paired with the experimental
levitational practices
i keep doing in my free time)

will somehow
make room
for all these
eggshells you won't stop
throwing onto the floor.

too many have found me
playing patty-cake
under that possessed streetlamp
down Hardy,
the one that always seems to flicker
when i walk by -

snatching back its potency
just long enough
to highlight the
unsolicited red apple ritual
happening in my
cheekbones.

i've got a game to catch.

not trying to be the dawdling girl,
throwing all of her hopes
into the air,
willing the destined one
to be something that will
cradle us both.

you gotta be on this
wick snuffing trip
searching for something a little more than
a ****-tossing buddy.

better get a pack of matches
and try to beat me to it,
'cause i'm putting up my fire-red can

and the light's gonna follow me out.

cancel your plans, darling -
we're feignin' tonight.

i ain't tasted your fancy brow
since i last ran up trees.

i know you miss
the way my tossing hair
always filled the air with
moonlit berries and
wild
wild
grapes,

so thick
your mouth
gave way to
tsunamis.

i've got cold noodles sittin'
in my bowl somewhere
because i forgot to remind myself that
that ain't food that's
fillin' my belly -

channelin' me your orange hues
dipped in frustrations so subtle,

but
not
subtle
enough.

your frisky hot hemp dance
is flingin' itself
all over my inside stuff -
curbin' my appetite
for just about
anything else.

i'll climb your tree anyday
sweet baby,
kissin' greens
in your sleeves
on that minxy leaf trip.

carry me to your sneaky cove
and share your spices
and wanton skin graces.

i'll trade you my
fingertips
and diamond
extravaganzas,
then we can take turns
dippin' our tongues
into the blend.

'cause
i've blotted out my agenda
to savour the splendour
so i can remember to
spit it back into
the faces of
the dark
cloaked ones.

this is my defiant-nosed
iron song,
in my steel-toed boots.

see, i'm feelin' mahself
and the randy white cub
ticklin' my sides
in our crazy cahoots,

with our incense and spirits
from the worshipers of
sane things -
who fill our airs
with a long overdue
white haze.

When I was a child,
I lived around
The corners of houses,
Hiding from your
Crooked nose -
So hooked
It gouged my
Superman courage
Right outta my
Teeny lil' chest.

My legs quaked a little
In my Barbie boots,
If ever I chanced to
Get locked into that
Loony gaze, of yours -

The one that
Stuck, thick on my skin,
Melting me off,
Like that little girl
I saw,
Covered in ****** -

All over -

You know the look -
The one that made me feel bad
For mewing, purring, and
Licking my paws.

Caroline and I
Shared marshmallows
At night,
Faces glowing in
Rainbow light -

Rainbows that peeked from
The filaments that
Twirled slowly,

Too slowly,
Inside Gary's
Glass indigo box,

And shared
Boogeyman dreams
On what types of things
Probably crawled from
Your crow's nest hair.

--

I saw you last week
In your silver convertible,
Fly away's tied down
'neath Oscar de la
Something,

(Or another)

With cherry red lips,
A silk blouse that slipped,
Flirtingly from your
Shimmering, bronzed
Shoulders,

Beauty on your lips,
Beauty in your hair,
Beauty spilled
Right 'cross your face,

Beauty in your poise,
Even in your toys,

Wait -
Beauty?

Had my wide eyes deceived me?

I found an old snapshot
From your date night out -
The night you should've been
Watching me,

And saw,
With my two,
The you that I knew,
'cept, actually,
You looked
Just the same -

Though, your wild hair,
Now tamed -

Plus a wrinkle and
Maybe a gray.

I am singing my song,
Into the eastern winds,
And I know that She will deliver.

And, I am sending a bird,
With a smile in its song,
To massage your soul in its fever.

I crept up to the rocking chair
Perched beside my bedroom door,
Pressed my ear up to the wood
Waiting for daddy's snores,

Silence in heaps,
Between discounted sheep,
Blared into the darkness,

Until, an eye-squeezing roar
Shook the entire first floor,
Following my tiptoes across the carpet.

Down the hall and to the left
And quickly up the stairs

(Swiftly, I went
In my flighty ascent -
Should goblins follow,
Me - unawares),

I burst into the attic
Heart naively in panic -
Back evened with the sturdy door,

The attic, at last!
The window ahead,
And beyond it,
I could only imagine.

--

Daddy told me once,
From behind billows of smoke,
That the more I dreamt
The more things awoke,

I dreamt of a dragon
In bed that night,
So, with the stars, up high
Should be a dragon in flight,

I threw open the curtains,
Soul, a wish-filled flagon,
Breath held tight
To behold my...lizard?

--

An itty bitty
Teeny weeny
Green,

(and somewhat, brownish)

Thing,

Crawled across
My window sill
Lacking all his
Dragon things,

His dragon hue,
And dragon size,
Everything
Dragon-wise,

I plopped down to
The floor beneath
The window,
And I took a seat,

I watched that little
Dragonette -
Slowly trying
To just forget,

The dragon I had come to see
Hadn't cared enough to come see me,

Then that lizard did a crazy thing -
Popped up his head -
Showin' a big pink thing!

I wasn't sure what sounds lizards made
So, I moved up close
('cause I wasn't afraid!)

Eye to eye,
I leaned in close,
Then that thing jumped forward
And bit my nose!

...

*I'm pretty sure he liked me.

My dreams are dreams of black and white.

I dream of the late Cool Hand Luke,
And Big Daddy in the rain.
I dream of Hepburn, where it's hot,
Of Skelton upon his stage.

I dream of Jeannie,
Of Lucy's man,
Of Hitchcock's crazed suspense,

And of my freckled friend, named Opie,
Relaxing with Papa Griffith.

Jethro swings from chandeliers,
As daddy fends off fiends.
Granny ***** that little hand,
Signaling the end.

Half-breed kitty cat,
Mewing through the gate,
"Too few marbles in your bag,
To paw over this way?

I ain't got no mites in my fur,
Just spots my mama gave me.
We even moved into this yard,
And out that ***** alley.

Excuse my rasp,
From the sharp, sharp glass,
That stuck in my throat last summer.

As, a kind ol' woman took it out for me,
But, left a piece - though, I forgive her.

I promise I'll be fair,
If I can play,
And paw at your pretty marbles.

I'm a kitty cat too,
Like the lot of you,

Just as kitty,
And, just as able."

---

"Oh, I'm not allowed,
To even join the crowd,
'cause my fur ain't as yellow as yours?

Well, I'm a kitty cat queen -
Know what I mean?
This world will open up,
Better doors."

I created a couple on Sims, once.
They were so fantastically in love.
Together they made Gabby,
And a roughling, named Danny.

And, they all lived together,
In Flat 1.

One day, the dad dropped the kids at school,
And, off he went, to work.
I let Taylar, the mum, cheat,
With a stud, on repeat.

Now, I’m just waiting,
‘Cause I know what will come.

Gordy, the dad, who’s still in the dark,
Went to meditate in the park,
There, he saw Taylar,
With Benny, the sailor.

Cue, the planned brawl,
In the street.

Gordy, the dad,
When it was done, had won.
Taylar, crawled back, so sweetly.
But Gordy’s no fool,
He said they were through,
And, sat her junk out on the street.

Taylar the *****,
Went down to the bank,
To clear out Gordy’s account.
But, smart Gordy had listened,
And, cleared out his pension -
Knocked Taylar right off her feet.

So, now, Taylar’s reflecting,
And Gordy’s out flexing,
His muscles he found,
In pastime.

Gabby, so sweet, has started to teach,
While, Danny leads group rock climbs.

Soon enough -

Mum’ll find a new beau,
Dad - a darling, in tow.
Everyone broken -
Now mended.

They all will be fine,
Everything works, in due time,
By the point, at which the story has ended.

I like you a lot.
I know, but I don't like you.
I like you a lot.
I know, but I don't like you.
I like you a lot.
I know, but I don't like you.
I like you a lot.
I know, but I don't like you.

I like you a lot.
*I know, and I like you too.

Once, when my curls still tickled, only the tops of my ears,
Mum quietly ironed my daddy's pants - he ate his cold grits and eggs.

She thought I didn't see her see me watching the cat,
Claw at her leg - And so, I just asked,

"Why does déjà vu  only come too late, for me to know what I should do?"
She wrinkled her nose, instead of sayin' and,
Singed her spider-leg fingers.

--

So, I sat there.
Somewhat, unsure.

--

"Baby," she said, as she shook her head, "You shouldn't fret over things like that."
She continued her ironin' - the cat kept clawin',

--

And, I sat there.
Somewhat, unsure.

--

I asked my daddy earlier, yesterday, if he would work late, down at the office.
He began saying some words, but very few were heard,

My attention smelled -
So much -
Like grits.

I saw the wine bottle stolen and my cookies still frozen,
Yesterday,
But, in a way,
Soon after the airport.

I guess,

The world that burst forth
From my tender red womb
Is maniacally clawing
To get back inside,
Now,

Or am I pulling it by
It's tangled hairs?

Afterall,

I am flustered
With it wrenching
The brush from my hand,
Each time I reach out
To unravel the mess
It's made,

(Or, I made?)

Either way,

I'll let bygones be bygones,
Even if it means
Being carried away -
Lost in sterilized hair strands,
Sleeping wordlessly,
Amid

Insanely white teeth.

Three frozen nights in a row
Remind me that I’m cold.
Dinghy sheets with matching throws
Remind me that I don’t care.

Razor blades and waxless strips,
Tagged, cute underwear,
Sleepless sleeps and cereal—
Marking time.

Come here.

*06.2011

I can't even count
how many times
the sun has done
its shining thing
without me,

pouring down
its sunny rain
on my big ol'
black parade.

there's this weird dynamic
that tends to occur
when my lesser-than-vibrant
fanfare's in town,

with all its subtly pompous
pomply pomp  
blaming it all on
circumstance.

"Let's all gather 'round
this *****'s back
and lick the jelly
right off!"

(please!)

don't ask what my
'a little too loose'
head off my neck
is doing

peeking
wishfully

out from the darkness

rollin' around the p's in my mind

pathetically
snatching at my
poor, poor
soul -

a pity party
thrown for
one.

it's quite funny
really
how often
i forget
how silly black
looks

when it's sunny.

tundra icicles
cut my heart open wide -

can't pretend
this wasn't what I signed up for
when I ran in here
after you.

i slipped you some matches
when you weren't looking
and watched you light up again,
while I just sat there

in unfamiliar territory
rolling around
on my big girl wheels,
determined to sneak you
a pair of telling eyes
as soon as no one
was watching.

i should've known better

than to bring you
a stolen vision,
as if i hadn't already learned
of the subjective quest -

i'm just trying to
help you see

what the matches were for.

I've been adding more green leaves
And flower buds to my mask,
Lately,
I even cut away, a bit,
To reveal the scar above my eye.

Though,

I had to paint on more smileys
With glitter,
The other day,
To counter the angled eyes
That cut right through them.

But then,

Someone ripped off
The string on the right.

So, now, it,
Occasionally,
Swings -

Back
And then forth
And then back
And then forth,

Unless, I make a pointed effort,
To hold it up to my face.


But,
For now,

I don't give a
Cut phone cord.

I haven't an empty,
Dead-weight thought
For racing cracks
Of yesterday -

Cracks that split
Faster than crooks

Spinning in
Red-paced,
Screaming lights,

--

Times ago,
Are times I know,
Only in now's
That never end,

And times to come
Are simply from
Times, the same as
Now and Then,

So, when I spend
Hours within
The greenest greens,

Glowing near
Bashing violets,

Or dance with
The street,
Feet locked in repeat -
Communion
With dirt red brick,

You'll know why these things,
Tickle my wings,
And why I choose

Now,

As my
Sweetly,

Forever.

the moon must be crazy
in the way that it glows
when it does,

for only ***** things
happen at night,

at twilight is when the
hungry men prowl
for the ripened darlings
in their lacy things -

when the fingers of
the raving ones
are stickiest in their
rabid breaths,

in the time that
wallows in the dust
of the stars' dusky debut
is where the shadows
are livened with
all things creeping
and perilous,

though,

it was in my
silken milk moonbath
that i rinsed the nagging
sharp terrors from my
fortitude undergoing
a quickening,

and in the pool of light
amid the crystal rocks -

that i gave my fervent
wet hearted
soliloquies.

--

lest i forget,

it was in the
late moon's lament
with his opal grand aura
painting softly my glowing path
that i embraced the silent
white cub, in his quaky
ascent who radically
up-ended my
existence.

--

treasured Sir Moon
in your tremulous
spry loon

i trust the satin truth
in the madness you brew.

It doesn't take a
shrink
to tell me that
yelling
*******
isn't exactly
the best way
to let you know

i need you.

and my aunt Tay -
she coulda
kept her say
'cuz i already
know
that my fists kept
close(d)
is what's
keeping me
from
you

giving me

what
i need

annnd

beating them
against your
chest
probably
doesn't tell you
too simply
to hold
me

even
tighter -

listen,

i have
way too many
*****
to give
to be
giving them all
to you

poor you.

i know.

and it all
drives me so nutty
that you
my baby got
stuck
in this heart
of putty
ive got
you
sputty-

babblin' about
how you
want to keep on
doing this

forever.
and ever?


I love you.

Reckless
Action can
Create crisis-

beaware.

Please-

Don't fall victim
To Ego's
Allure.

Hold fast
The light
You've been
Harboring
Within.

Beware
Division

From the
Ides of March.

Tread lightly,
My dears.

Walk soft,
With good thought-
Prepare
Your mind
And sit guard
Your soul.

Chaos' Shadow
Is passing by-

Much is brewing
Has been for
So long.

It was
Four years ago,
We knelt
Pregnant with terror
Of what life was
Hurling our way,

And here we are
Nearing the end

Wounded

Yet,
Standing
Strong-
As we must.

The final
Square off
Is
Today.

Speak softly,
My dears,

And again,

Tread lightly.

Deceit is slinking
About.

But trust your heart
And what you've learned
For tomorrow,

It finally ends,

Either one way
Or, some other

Tomorrow,

It finally begins.

My mama’s shoes,
Fit my feet too snug, now,
For me to look cute, still, slippin’ them on.
I’ve no need of her lipstick, nor her raspberry rouge,
To make my face look, more, like hers does.

I’m a big, daddy’s girl, who has known the world,
But, not quite enough to really fit in.

--

I still heart,
Sunshine and rosies,
And, playin’ with mah toesies -
Eatin’ froot loops and pokin’ at roly poly’s,
Makin’ colourful cupcakes, covered in sweet gummies,
To eat inside forts filled with last winter’s lights,

Too,

Eatin’ Caramel Delights, sneakily,
Stolen, in spite - of the weight,
I was fightin’ so easily.

--

Perhaps,

When the adults are all done - playin’ house, for fun,
I’ll bring my cookies from the fort, to the table.
We’ll have coffee and speak of the stats,
For the week and laugh about,
Hart's becoming unstable.

And, I shall wear loafers,
That pinch at my,
Toesies that fidget,
Crazily,
Beneath my seat.

Cummerbunds & cuff links,
Top hats & Armani.
P’s and Q’s donning shining shoes,
Seem to dance beneath your feet.

*06.2011

In the world upstairs
Are walls as veils,
Balleting in
Inner winds.

Shadows criss-cross
The songs
That trudge
From throngs
Of masses
Running around,
In chaos
That sneaks over -
Guised in cloaks
That rival its
Counterpart.

I thought sirens were voluptuous women,
Who sat upon rocks and sang to men,
Who couldn’t think past,
The tips of their *****.

I was sure they had the longest hair,
I had ever seen,
That swore to you,
It had met with eternity.

Through rose-scented ears,
And rose-budded drapes,
I had heard of their full, soft *******,

That breathed airily beneath,
The green beads of the sea,
Speaking, softly, of impending agendas.

"

But, I found out yesterday,
Their hands are great,
Yielding rough spears,
Rather than white sarongs.

They’re not sitting at all -
They actually stand tall,
Looming over you,
With ***** of their own.

Sit still, now, chil’,
While I untangle this mess -
You ain’t goin’ swimmin’
‘til it’s all in braids,

The mo’ naps you got,
The mo’ hair you lose,
I’m ti’ed of strugglin’
With this pick
And flat comb,

—

‘cause yo hair is too thick,
I’m at the enda mah wick,

And, mah grays are doin’
Anything -

But, fadin’.

Bitten by a bitter asp,
Scorched by a flame,
Conned by a sneaky fox,
And charmed by his game.

So, excuse me, if I’m wary,
Of your silky, smooth orations,
Or bewildered and maybe slightly scared,
Of these somewhat odd sensations.
My soul is bidding that I run,
From your words, so much like his,
But, my heart commands my feet to stay,
Afraid of what I’ll miss.

Afraid, also, that your tender touch,
Is tender in only practice.
Frightened that your wooing game,
Will end shy of the kiss.

Yet,

What if your lips are sweetened with,
Sugar in its purest state.
And, your eyes whisper to me, not lies,
But secrets of our hidden fate.
I want my heart to beat with yours,
And to allay these silly fears.
But, how can I know that you won’t go,
And leave me fighting tears?

I trust you with my kisses,
With my rain of sweet affection.
I give to you my drowsy dreams,
For a feverish night’s connection.

Though my heart wells up with age-old songs,
At the whisper of your name,
And belts them out on every corner,
It’s within my own breast, all the same.

My fingers idle at the thought,
Of unlocking my heart once more,
Leery of the childish stitching,
From heartbreaks done before.

Cross your heart, and say you’ll stay,
To love me through the night,
To narrate my dreams, and welcome the beams,
That pour in from waking light.

To give my heart is to give my love,
To the one I most adore.
And, when it’s true, I swear to you,
My heart and soul is yours.

i've been craving
the sensation
of
satiation
in being

who i am
makes lesser sense
with each

overturned

rock
that leads to
an
epidemic

of revelations
and patience
in my wait for
illumination

on topics
i didn't even know
were relevant.

each endeavor
i meet
quietly
quaking
with
significance -

waiting
for it all
to be
realized,

each person
a character
vital
to an end
brooding
in
gestation.

i am a queen.
a seductress.
a coyote in the darkness.

a healer.
a guide.

a friend.

i am a person
unaffected
by the world
of
labels,

living within
this all
but
without.

--

it's a charming game,
a sweet, sweet dream,
this life thing,
gifted to us.

takin' it
one step
at a time
with each
step
more alive,

and
to think,

yesterday
i spent sleeping

through it
all.

She pushed her cart so frankly,
Eyes straight forward -
Never sidecast,

Nor down to the tray
Showing a splendid array
Of treats
I knew
Were mine.

But then that woman
Went blinking mad!
Racin' her goodie cart
Much too fast,

Rudely ahead,
At things I
Yet
Had said -
Her gown
Screaming

A ****** red.

--

Hair yanked
My eyes
Down -
The drone had stolen my gown!

Rattling wheels
Still forging ahead -

She had given me her
Flute and her
Tongue-tied suit,

(The suit that I knew
Gave them
Control over you),

Her wolf eyes
Wide,
And dead.

My filed down nails
Grew into claws,
Clenching my empty cup,

"I did not drink it!"
"I will not drink it!"

Then the cup was filled back up.

That woman stood still
In front of me -
Hands tied down to her sides,

As she silently mouthed her
Starch-white song,

"There's nowhere
You can hide."

I hurled my cup
With that bitter water
At her blaringly
Condemning
Face,

"I will not eat
Your grinning sweets!
You won't keep me
In this place!"

--

Nuts and bolts
Flying and Floating -
Stinging a rip
In time,

Punctuation
Chasing my words,
In haste -

But,
No trace of her
Could I find.

--

Too much parepin in my water.

i can hear your hesitant silence
louder than an
atom bomb

and the sliverous little
glances
that weave between the
minds

i counted them
once before

when the wind
blew out your
lashes,

when your
fumbly words
and jumpy fingers
gave away
all
your secrets.

show me the string
that unravels the thing
ive been
hunting all day
in search for -

the mirror in the rain
that collects all the pain
for gain
that
ive been waiting
my life
for.

'bunch of student
pollutants,
faces sooted
in black,
fingers
grimey and sticky,
snatching the little
i got.

all ive ever wanted
has been a
simple enough dream:

to be happy

and sappy
with my lover,
my cream,
to play my part
and finish out
what i
started,

to exist on this earth -
serene

but there's this itch
i can't get
to succumb to a
verdict.

this is it.

are you coming
or going?

He likes joy girls,

The ones that spring upward in the wee hours
And smile because the sun is coming soon -
The ones that rise with the sun
And keep right on rising,
Even 'til the sun is setting -
Then they rise on
Into the night,

He likes girls with fluttering fingers
That tingle when they touch you -
Ones with round-eyed spirits
That peek out from the pockets of their irises.

He likes joy girls,

Those "sun-in-my-pocket" girls,
The skipping instead of walking,
The "I'm too tired of talking,
(I'd rather be off singing)"
Girls,

Girls with giggles so infectious
His frown can't help but slip-up,

He holds these girls the tightest to him
'cause his days look much too much like
The endings of,

Late October dusks.

Is this what passion feels like -
Lingering in the nook,
Created between damp lips met in soft quiverings?

Idling saucily in the bowl that,
Balances in my shoulder -
Dripping down my chest, to my breast
And resting...

Does passion taste sweet,
With a hint of anger,
That sounds like,
If one's lips won't suffice,
The teeth will?

Teasing with fury,
As if tempting the jury,
Peeking down at one,
From above.

---

Or, is passion the heat,
That arises between,
Two lovers, merely,
Sharing a kiss?