Criss cross applesauce
we sit without a care
your fingers smell of cookies
though your hands have played in dirt
i think of you this day
as it pours His chilling rain
and wonder when the sun will show
so we can meet again

run your finger across my teeth,
you wicked child
call me in the morning,
call me in the evening
probably making the same mistakes
again and again and again
mistakes are making us
again and again and again
we're the cards nobody wants
take us out of the stack
so we can have that playdate

-c.j.

The seedy ****** here were ungrateful, hateful
With my giving loving rainbow drops

Now I know the ugly huminz need mustard seed facefulls
To plug their noisy orifices up

Good thing I'm not into sinus ****
At least, not yet

Do better, stupid humins
Or you'll come to know the taste of de luge

Note: This is a spoken word poem. Read aloud for best affect. Poem will read with a natural flow.

When life hands you lemons
You make lemonade
Remember when that was one of those little phrases made
When your best friend's smile would fade
Out on the playground
And you wanted nothing more than to see them smile
So you took their hand and jumped in the leaf pile
Because lesson number one was about friendship
And your best friend meant more to you than that
Bus ride home sitting next to that cute boy from school
Back when charm bracelets were cool
And a date was a playdate was a trip to the pool
And there you learned lesson number two
Loyalty
Because when your best friend couldn't swim, suddenly
Neither could you
And you sat and splashed
And had a lot of fun all the same
And it was just the beginning
Because you learned that being loyal was better than winning
That schoolyard competition of hoop-spinning
Even if you didn't know what loyalty meant
You  knew that seeing your friend win
And seeing them happy
Was much better than winning yourself
Sometimes
And lesson number three came on your very first
Friend's-only shopping spree
And you finally felt free
Because you had fifty bucks and, I mean,
How much more money could there possibly be?
And you walked into that store your big sis had been in
And your tomboy best friend tried on her very first dress
And that was when you learned that beauty comes in all shapes and sizes
'Cause you knew it would have been a major lie
To tell her that she didn't look absolutely beautiful
But lesson number four wasn't like the ones before
Because this one smashed down your door
And you vowed never to be friends with your BFF anymore
Because she texted that guy you like...
...Or so was the rumor that spread through your school
And this lesson was about trust
You learned to believe those who mattered
And ignore those who didn't
And not long after, the saying "Honesty is the best policy" came true
When you lied to your mother about what you were gonna do
After school
And when she found out, like all moms know how to
You sobbed and you cried
You felt like you'd died
Needing one thing and only one thing
Needing it more than food to eat
Or water to drink
Or air to breathe
You just needed Mom to believe you again
And so you discovered lesson number five: Honesty
And you picked up a few things along the way
Like always look both way when you cross the street
Like always turn in your homework on time
Like sisters before misters
Whatever that would mean
You were only fourteen
And like knowing which way to go
Like knowing to tell people when you were going
Like knowing that someone would always want to know where  you were going
Because someone would always need you to come home
Because someone would always love you
Even if you felt like the most worthless person alive
Because you had been left behind
You'd been cast aside
Even when you cried for days on end
Felt like you'd never live again
Like everything had been pretend
Like you didn't have a single, solitary friend
That was when *your best friend learned lesson number six
The one about being there for each other
And even when it stung
Still tighter you hung
Thinking nothing would ever get better
Not wanting to hear that things would
Even when you knew that things could
And eventually, the years went by
The time did fly
And the painful memories faded
And there you stand on the first day of freshman year
Filled with fear
But feeling triumphant, knowing the past was past
The pain wouldn't last
High school would fly by fast
And as you walk through those halls
Sticking to the walls
Hearing your friends' calls
You think, "Huh. Isn't it funny, the stuff my parents said I'd find
All in due time
Are all things that I've dealt with before?"

I wanted promise houses built of hay.
I knew those chocolate hearts were poisoned but I ate them just the same.

I thank you. Your absence breaks my character. I can now rebuild.
Your silence fills my heart with questions and the only answer that seems to quiet it down is: love (as cliche as that may sound.)
I've remembered that love is best when it is mirrored;  now, the only one I'm smiling into is the one inside my bathroom.

A booth Made out of Fed-Ex blocks
Tongue depressors Still lingering with the taste of fudgesicle
Diagnoses Of cat-scratch fever
Of applesauce flu
Of –itises and –idias
One end of a jumprope
Held to one ear
And the other
Tracking the thump of a human heart
When the only illnesses
Were those of a sun-spent day
And playdate fatigue
We were all doctors
We could all
Save
           Lives…

he always calls me by my given name
whenever he finds himself back in town;
mariela on the dotted line,
mari in the moonlight.
ella if he's feeling smug,
bunny when he's looking for God.
he knows my history is shaded with blue,
marred by narrowly-won home-front wars.
everything about me reminds him
of Heaven and sweet, honeyed beaches.
sandy cheeks from moonbathing, ****,
by clyde's stagecoach motel on the coast.
barefoot and manic, he tastes like sugar
and complements the *** on my tongue.
green-eyed with envy, but he's sweet
enough to make my mind grow hazy
with the lust of a woman gone mad from her fears.
he rolls through on the tail-end of a storm
and dizzies me until the dream ends
and i find he's left me only morning dew.
he tells me i'm an angel, lazily smoking
cigarettes while he lounges, gloomy, by the pool.
sunshine bikini singing sailor songs softly,
cool in my gold hoops dancing between
his open thighs, signaling gamine doom.
he's larger than life, starry-eyed,
reading me poetry against his olive chest.
i could die here, i know this, listening
to the gentle tune of his heartbeat.
he tells me he'll love me only until tomorrow,
but i'm not so sure that's the truth.
when the playdate ends,
when the sun dies slow,
when my love goes home
i'll awaken,

but not just yet.

I seen nim again that sad looking man...
He stared at me with wonder....
Or was it disgust i cannot tell....
Maybe he should clean up...
The world will hate him less....
And a brushing of teeth will allow him to get close....
Looks like he has enough barriers...
He is not the suitable shade of accepted...
His tattoos make him a dangerous felon....
The lost look in his eyes means he cant be trusted....
If the rest of the world could see what i see......
That he tries harder and harder everyday....
Because his daughters names are tattooed on his neck.....
They are the reason hes tired...
14 hr days leave every late night worth it...
Because a midnite playdate is his only reward....
A lonely soul who recently lost his mom.... his dad....
And how a friend may be all he needs....
But burying his last one four yrs ago has made him scared.......
Now he is facing a world without any back up......
He is the only protection for a family that means everything....
And has a girl who maKes him feel like nothing....
Someday i hope to not see him so down....
But as smile at him...
I realize this whole time...
That sad man in the mirror is actually me....

Bad Morning, long time no see, wish it had stayed that way.      

It's **** to see you.

I don't give a monkeys how you are.

And as for your wife and kids, I never liked her, and they were always horrible to mine.

Got to go? Thank God for that.

Be careless,

With any luck I won't bump into you again for a long, long time. Please don't call.

I can't think of a single nice thing to say to you, and it would be awkward as hell.

I don't want you knowing anything about my life.


Good morning, long time no see!
It's great to see you!
How are you?
How's Sally, Joe and Sam? We should set up that playdate, it's been awhile.
Oh, you're in a rush? That's a shame, never mind.
Take care,
Hope to see you soon - call me!
It would be so great to get the chance to have a proper chat.
I've so much to tell you.

I search for the arms
of strangers,
of friends,
of my family.

People pass by me
and their eyes drop
to my arms
before they meet
my face again.

They found a woman's body
hands, feet and face
burned. Naked
tossed into the woods.

Her killer
still unidentified.

They asked for tips.
She struggled
they said,
her violator may have been wounded.
Scratches and bruises may still be visible
on the forearms of her attacker.

So I find myself
staring down
at the pale arms
of men,
of the unkempt elderly man at Honey Farms,
of the teenage gas attendant who never quite
meets my eyes,
but also
at the father of my daughter's afternoon playdate,
the teenage sons of my neighbors
and at an evening barbecue, my own father,
questioning against doubt
what they are capable of.

And when I am alone,
even though I know,
in the mornings
I look down
at my own arms
unmarked.

And still, I check
twice.

My face is ******
Because I've been picking at it 
don't worry I've felt worse pain
and if I had to I'd pick it off again it'd be no big deal
I'm sure it soon will heal
While I'm sitting in this room
And wearing this silly costume
I smear my blood all over the tile floors and on the door
Miss Monah
Took me from 
My insanity safe House
So I make a mess
And tear up this dress to make her feel a little more stressed
I told the woman Monah with one eye that I didn't need a babysitter
I asked her to reconsider 
Maybe we can just play
But she is stuck not in control
She said it's nothing personal
That some man with toys has sent her 
She told me he wants a playdate
So to put me out of my misery she's going to have to **** me
"Toyman knows where girlys go"
She said with a crooked smile all while holding that axe
Her ****** mouth curved up a little more and she screamed
"You didn't check on the child!" right before the blow found it's target a man opened the door could it be
Is that the toyman I see
Will he stop miss Monah from killing me

I grew up with God in the wind,
and didn't fit in with Christian friends.
They told me stories and begged me to repent.
Though doubtful, my anxiety sparked at the thought of sin.

I was once on a playdate and the mother told me.
She disowned her best friend when she confessed she was a lesbian.
She told me she could only take her back if she came to her senses.
It made me feel sad and sick, with little sympathy for the protagonist.

I was once told by a good friend that no one is bisexual, of course they're just confused.
I knew who I was but I didn't say anything in rebuttal.
I just nodded my head and took the bruise.

Once after jokingly seeing my boyfriend and another male friend hold hands, my mother told me "how dare those ******* disrespect you like that."
It was a moment that shattered glass and left scars.
I managed an apology after too much effort.

My stepfather once told me that gender fluidity was a confused phase, and a fad for attention.
Walls were put up and notes were taken.
Doors remained closed and silence  prevailed.

I am complicated.
I blend in to "normal"
I feel guilty at times and don't feel honest.

I undervalue, perhaps, the benefit of looping everyone in.
Or, perhaps, I'm just keeping the peace and heeding warning signals.

I can say for certain, it's not a fad nor phase.
I've always been who I am, I just had to grow up in order to phrase it.

My mouth's a myth magician,
but my eyes can't tell lies,
lie to me and tell me you
believe me when I tell you
I am fine...

What am I supposed to tell you,
what am I supposed to say?
On the positive side,
I didn't ache the same way,
but on the negative,
I'm sure I've lost you again,
meaning that you losing me
could be the beginning of you
finding your meaning
without me there;

Okay, Friend?
You may not gamble
with my feelings,
you may not place a bet
on my love because
I bet my love will go extinct
if you do not water me.

I don't want to be your playdate,
I don't want you
to ruin my mixtape,
I want to keep my engine running,
and my body fueled,
my stomach can do
without the abuse

Because it has confused
you for food and I can't eat,
without thinking that I've
mistaken you for a flower,
and am now chewing
on the thorns,

I don't want to be your friend,
I want to poke you inside and out,
I want to cause goosebumps
to crawl all over your skin,
and I don't ever want to
breathe you out, I want
to breathe you in,
right now, is that a sin?

"There are other fish in the sea"
but my fishing line
goes straight through,
never picking left or right,
there are no other fish in sight...

So I'll keep swimming,
I'll leave you behind on the shore,
and there you'll be safe,
and faraway, I'll be okay.
Okay, Friend?

It's only right to let
you celebrate, the
freedom that will go-
that you deserve.

Visions I see,
it's only right to keep
you blind. Play with
you, playdate.

Stillness of nameday,
shame that your name
isn't truly yours
but a reminder
of a tragedy

here. But not anymore.  Instead
of jackets and bags flung over
fences there’s a sign tied to it that says
closed until further notice. Instead of

swings flying high into the sun
they’re just empty chairs hanging on
chains. What a shame. No more sounds
of laughter, children running after

the ice-cream truck. Sorry kid; you’re out
of luck. You got to stay inside your home
so, the virus doesn’t spread.  Go back
to bed. You’ve no playdate. Your friends

can’t come to call. You can’t play
basketball. The field has empty bases. It
disgraces me that they took our playground
away from us. From dawn to dusk - emptiness