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 Dec 2011 Tana Marie B
Zoe
Stuck
 Dec 2011 Tana Marie B
Zoe
The more you hold on
the more it hurts
the more you let go
the more you may hurt others
stuck
the more time passes
the more time you have to forget
the more you forget
the more you want to remember
stuck
the more stuck you get
the more you feel like being free
the more free you desire
the more you let go
the more you forget
free
the more free
the more lost
stuck
 Dec 2011 Tana Marie B
Zoe
My sheets
 Dec 2011 Tana Marie B
Zoe
I want to be lost in my sheets.
To never go down stairs, to only hear the muffled noise of people, to not have to see the twisted love among each other.
I want to be lost in my sheets.
To only see the happy orange color, to close my eyes and know i’m protected, to not hurt as well as hurt others.
I want to be lost in my sheets
till the day i can’t control myself from closing my eyes and never have the possibility to gaze upon the happy orange color again.
I want to be lost in my sheets.
 Dec 2011 Tana Marie B
Zoe
i want to let it go
but it pulls me in
i want to say *******
but i would feel so bad
i want to forget
but i want to remember every detail
i want to go
but i want to stay
i want to feel
but i want to be numb
i want to help
i want to heal
i want to be free
i want to love
 Dec 2011 Tana Marie B
Lucy Tonic
Hysterical witch
Demonic *****
Weak and hungry always
But mostly unbalanced
Pet
How dare you reach
For what you need
When I can
Give you what I want
Receptacle for love
Receptacle for blood
Receptacle for seed
Receptacle for everything
 Dec 2011 Tana Marie B
Lucy Tonic
California gold-rush blues
Got you pretty thirsty
Where's tank girl when you need her
Saliva thick
Lump in throat
Tongue swelling
Neck swollen
Can't breathe
Drowning
Shrinking skin
Hallucinations
Eyelids crack
Tears of blood
Leather-purse face
Amputated lips
Nose withered
Eyes trapped
We're all exported and exploited
Sold sanely cheap
Used how the rich see fit
Dead in one week
Ecosystem crashing
All for their mansions
Filled with rooms they never use
Profit ******
We see oceans through our windows
97 percent
97 percent
3 percent for you and none for us
Little boy is drinking bubbles
But it ain't champagne
It's dead dogs and fetus juice
Dog dogs and abuse
Where are the wetlands
Where are the holy springs
Soon we'll all be Atlantis
Just another lost city
Soon we'll be living
In underground caves
Like cowards
We all want roses in our garden bower
But the best heroes
Might as well be slaves
Global desert
Without rain
Green turns yellow
Here come the earthquakes
****** forest
Rest in peace
They erected cities
In your memory
Cartels and shades of grey
Vivendi, Veolia
Machines with no soul
Privatizing blue gold
In their corporate quads
Woe to WTO
The new colonialism
Coca Cola 7-Up
Sorry but your time is up
Destroy everything you touch
When it's gone
Get up and leave
Destroy another planet
**** and conquer
SLAPPing silly pointless fools
Transporting silly tools
Shooting all the people's people
Got to pull up the roots
Bullets through lace curtains
Has a ring to it
You spineless cruel leaders
With your oil rivers
Well you've made a rival now
World map's changing underground
Alternatives are scarce
Purity is all but lost
Path of least resistance blocked
Metamorphosizing clocks
Circulation down the train
Don't drink the red water
Just pray for rain
 Dec 2011 Tana Marie B
Waverly
Who Am I?

Well,
I must be
that ******,
the one
in the black hoodie
***** sweatpants
and an uncombed eye,
that's always wooly
scratchy,
bloodshot
with searching for
my stash spot,
that ******
in your peripherals
that you keep your eye on
because he's
not
in a polo
looking nice,
talking
"well-spoken"
and
not
a threat
to your beautiful
lily-white daughter.


Because I grew up
fixing myself
ramen noodles
and
lifting the welcome mat
after school,
I must also be
that ******
whose father wasn't
in the same house
until he was age 13,
and when I tell you that,
you weren't expecting it
because "you're not a racist."
but
you weren't surprised.


You see,
I must be
that ******,
a stand-in
for all other *******.
I must be that ******
who represents
all *******,
not because you are racist,
but because I'm the only
******
you've met
who doesn't talk like
dis, y'know whatmsayin,
and i talk like
this, do you know what I'm saying?
I must be that ******.

In order for you
to feel okay
being around me
I must be that ******
who goes to college
does the right
thing
the white thing
and gets a job
a nice little house,
a nice black wife
with a nice
new england
clear
dialect,
(what I was
trying to get at
earlier
is that ****** dialects,
by their mere intonation,
denote stupidity,
right?)
and doesn't say a word
when his white friends
make ****** jokes
or talk in a ****** dialect
mocking some Aunt Jemima
they heard at Walmart.

But,
I also must be that ******
who doesn't step out of line
and say
"WHY IS IT
THAT IN EVERY SINGLE
ENGLISH CLASS
WE READ
ONLY
TWO
BLACK AUTHORS
A SEMESTER,
AND THAT'S
ENOUGH,
JUST ENOUGH
TO KEEP THE
****** PARENTS
HAPPY."

And If I happen to be a ******,
I,
by all means,
must not be that ******
who had a white girlfriend,
and
this girlfriend
after dating
a ******,
tried to date a white guy
she liked,
and when she told him
that she had dated,
loved,
and yes,
******
a ******,
he had said back:
"I can't believe
you ****** a ******."

Then again,
I must be that ******
with the big swinging ****
able to destroy
a white girl's ******
with its pulverizing
power.

And,
please,
If I am going to be a ******
don't be the one
who writes a poem
about
having to be
that ******,
because those
kinds of *******
are being
over-sensitive,
those dashiki-wearing-*******
who think
"Da white man dis."
and "Da white man dat."

Because
I am not one of those *******
descended from the first people on earth,
your brother,

not in the ****** way,

but the familial,
species way.

Why am I even writing
this, ****** isn't a main operative
word anymore.

Search and find "******"
and
replace with
"Black Guy." That way it becomes
a joke.
What intrigues my mind, lights the flame in my soul.

The beginning of something I pray that will never get old.

Brightening my day with a glimpse of your eyes.

Melting my heart, making me alive.
If you really knew me
you could see past this facade
past this mirage
you could see I constantly cry
like a water fountain
but you will never know
cause my tear clouds never make it over the mountain
I hold them back
cause I am strong (so I think)
but if you look close enough
you can see my flaws
the worn cracks in my face
and how I'm a dark pit
a dark place
you'll see me fall apart bit by bit
you could see how my eyes are closed shut
yet my soul bleeds
it bleeds endlessly onto this worn out paper piece
now you really know me
 Nov 2011 Tana Marie B
Maci M
11:11
 Nov 2011 Tana Marie B
Maci M
All is quiet.
Steal away.
The world has stopped.
Make a wish.
Close your eyes
And dare to dream.
Blow out the candles
And dare to dream.
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