tabitha

tabitha Mar 2016

Untitled

i will have it all some day,
as my "it all"  has nothing
to do with gilded halls &
shiny floors & iron doors
(anymore)
i am now concerned with
Better Things -- like
Love. and Order.

but oh, when i say i will have it,
& that i will have it all, i believe
myself!
more than i've believed
anything or anyone, ever at all.

when i say that; when i say
i  will  have it, &  that i will have it
all,    he   looks  at me  strange...
his eyes light up in bright green flames
like  a  pretty man  would
look  at a  silly,  deranged
little doll.  skeptical.
annoyed.
as if the world has already graced
my porcelain skin with enough lace for it to be a sin
he has no idea what it's like
to  be a  doll, at all; our pockets
are much too small and we are expected
to sit on shelves all day long .
he thinks that my all,
the "it all" of a doll,
is the "it all" of all....
a life of beauty and
wallpaper art,
of letting people dress you up
just to tear you apart.
he is.... jaded
by interrupted dreams,
and faded
by Jäger.
i have posed in his hands, to see his smile
i let him know
i want to know how he could move me
finesse me, brush my hair, confess to me.
not to then to lay me down, and forget me.
i am very familiar with the shelves of his soul.

he buttons his sleeves,
and goes on to his lunch affair;
his heart falls out when he jests/deflects.
he lets it lay there.

we are different kinds of hollow

#femininity #masculinity #miscommunication

tabitha Mar 2016

3.9.16 hesperia, ca

i, a textilian*,
politely clambered up the faces of mountains
as the valley revealed herself to me
her ready desert face, waiting
to be devoured by ravenous, wandering eyes
the nape of her neck, her chest, her thighs,
slowly~ and all at once

but i, the textilian, drowsily slipped under soft shade
it was only a brook but, it felt like a wave
and the deep creek carries me away,
then brings me back, to this sacred place....
it is nice to wake up to the sun
in your face

until slowly, and all at once, i was awake
and my clothes were on the ground
letting sweet redemption crawl back into my pores
beneath that sky, between those rocks
giving my self away
no mystery, just us three
just hello

hence i, the ex-textilian,
like a newly-molted reptilian
more like an undressed chameleon
in all my ecstatic toughness and alcoholic delirium
have learned more about what it is to be naked
than i've known since i was born
slowly~ and all once

get naked

*textilian: term coined off of Richard, a 64 year old LA biz retiree, desert dweller, and nudist ~ this is what he called us when we arrived at the Springs wearing clothes.

adventure is good for the soul.

#adventure #nature #youth #california #hike #springs #nudist

tabitha Mar 2016

wasteland

i am dripping in blankets and warm light
laying here, with you
in this puddle of humans
regurgitated by the Earth herself
i am happy to be here, with you
        happily decomposing
        rapidly recomposing
my ways
        rearranging the staves
        no rest
here, in the dirt
with you
giggling and twiddling
the stars have been swimming
above your sweet face, which is hidden
and i am tripping
on mushrooms

for my mushroom desert princess

#psychedelics

tabitha Feb 2016

conclusions

once i was told
by a man,

oh wait. i don't care.

tabitha Feb 2016

what wood you do?

once i was once told
by a man, that i could do great things
if i would stay an upright woman and
keep my eyes on the ground

and i, as a young one,
stood up straight,
"like a woman would"
and had my curves sanded down,
"like a woman should"
for, "temptations are the Devil's Woods"

and with my eyes on the ground,
I watched my particles catch light and
settle on the basement floor like dust ............
from whence We came, and without a sound

i always wondered what it would be like to see the shore
i ask
He never answers straight, all that matters is i'm pure
then The Carpenter whittled
tiny spikes into my sides
until it was unsafe to be near me,
a Curse in the name of Love
set for life in a window of this outdated Shop

so i waited until His nose was deep
in the latest draft of His holy autobiography
until He nodded off, fast asleep
i lunged at His face
He screeched something about His never-ending Grace
He bled ancient black ink from the pens of scared little men

then,  i escaped
well... what wood you do?

#wood #carpenter #religion #women #oppression

tabitha Jan 2016

[?????]

when i was distant,
you were there
when i am here,
you are

where?

scattered
the floor
getting brushed into corners
not knowing
where the pieces of you belong anymore

i think i know who i am
until the porcelain architecture of you
the sacred curvatures of your song
is put in my hands

should i glue you back together?
could i have a small piece? for keepsake
or should i just let you be safe
and let someone else
melt you down into
some other shape?

i thought if i held you,
you'd pry your wings open
and, well
fly

but dear bird,
i am not magic
i never was to begin with
and now i must come to terms with this

~

why do
i
break every thing
i
touch

sorry

#accident #prone