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Tanisha Jackland Mar 2016
We are fragments
distilled and meticulous
spheres of flesh and bone
replicating thru space
like the urgency of fractals

We are galactic bulls
breaking laws
with our big *****
spread across the
star spangled void

We need far too much...
******* at the black breast
of gravity and forgetting
these bodies are really temporary
Forgetting
we once belonged to the sky
Fleeting ether
and ascending mediocrity
Tanisha Jackland Mar 2016
He would come
to me in waves of
hot whispers and moonlight
His touch was penetrating
and was real life
He made misery feel like
warm flesh
sweet and inviting
but it hurt the first time
the slow pain
of him entering
then leaving gently
Skin craving skin
we knew we were doing
something meaningful
something substantial

I bloomed like
a shy flower
in the midnight Sun
And it was much more than
*** had anything
to do with it...
Tanisha Jackland Jan 2016
While you slept
I wandered
to meet you in the still waters
of the dark night
shaping your dreams
into coherent fishes

And in the deep warm
crevice of your mind
beyond the
labyrinth of gray matter
I live there
Wet and eyeless
Unwearied and waiting
For you to swim
into the center
this raging heart
Here is my video:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xQYGv76r9xI
Tanisha Jackland Jan 2016
I taste you on
the bend of
every morning
as if you were
my savior in these
black long days
it seems you were
made for
and it's hard without
you brimming
the smell of you
leaving me daunted
waiting for the
that surge to
pull me thru
Go here to listen: https://soundcloud.com/ladyofire/the-jitters
your role is to be gorgeous
                                    desirable
                                         remote and unattainable
mine is to yearn and moan
                                            then lie down and die
                                                      as I’m taunted, forsaken and abandoned
                                                                             by my illusions of you
Tanisha Jackland Jan 2016
There is something
urgent on my breath

Nothing really new here
but an ancient dirge
we're dancing to

When you see it
This urgency
you'll know
It's in the eyes

and maybe on the peeks
of your skin

the brink has got us
and
Into the unknown
matter where all good
endangered species go
Doomed poems tonite, I guess.
The things we say to one another:
we could
choose
to make them mean something.

I could tell you that I love you,
even though we've never
really met. You could
tell me that you're dying
and it scares you.
We could talk about the rise and fall
of injection-moulded empires,
the rise and fall of your
mother's chest, as she
took her last breath.
We could vow to behead tyrants together.
We could promise
that we'd never fall victim
to that same sickness. We could
compare our hurts and find a
connection
in our mutual pain. We
could try to share our loneliness,
and maybe the world
would be less lonely.

Or at least we could
speak,
like you're a person
and I'm a person, like we're both
made of the same
beautiful, doomed matter,
only separated
by social convention and
accidental skin;
we could say something worth saying.

Instead: plastic bag tax, The Match,
weight loss and where to buy
the best factory-seconds shoes,
the televised finals of something or other,
the rising cost of corned beef, the
obligatory conversation piece
about the weather.

Can't we talk
just a little bit
bigger than this?
Video version available here: > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ebHYpkKzZok
From my Kindle Collection, "Gulag 101", available here: > tinyurl.com/amz-g101
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