Just Around the Block
My older cousins, and even my younger sister,
riding way ahead of me. Alone on my bicycle,
I smelled my freshly ironed hair and the
sweet winds coming off of my fresh plum
blossoms over cracked wooden fences.
Imaginary Characters
They don’t write books about women like me
Not pretty
Within
I write bleak stories
Of all the bad men
Baggage isn’t attractive
Paranoia is poison
They don’t write books about women like me
Not pretty
Within
Be magnificent
Without being defiant
Sensual
Without being a nympho
Rule after rule
Women like me are
Too bleak
Too sour
Too morose
They write books about women
Who are not
Real
Reality is not pretty
And beauty is the main
Commodity
If you want a story
Be
Alluring
Angelic
With only a pinch
Of imperfection
And they’ll write story after story
About
U
The Stop sign outside the Abortion Clinic
I stay, numb.
I’m a stop sign on a snow day.
I stay, taking the weight of innocence.
Unmoving, Just red in the face.
Angry and unassuming. Just ordinary.
She sees me, that woman in the car just feet away.
It is my turn now to be as loud as their engines.
STOP
She stares teary eyed as she holds her round belly.
5 months and inches away, she stops.
Say My Name
Pluck me away
from all the others
Studying my
skin
eyes
hair
They declare
You’re the good kind
Light enough to be accepted
raised in the right
place
You’re the good kind
But that name
gives you away
They change it
Lica
Angie
anything
but my actual
name
You’re the good kind
Annihilates my name
You’re the good kind
Abducts my family
You’re the good kind
Drains me completely
Dispute their
declarations
and they’ll put
you back in
your
place
Politics
Who gets what, when and how?”
Questions we all
Ponder. But
When the attitude of the masses
Is “my one vote doesn’t matter”
Nothing.
Will.
Change.
Ridiculing
One another
Liberal, Democrat, Conservative, Republican
Big government is parlous,
Capitalism is not the answer
But, what we should
Ponder is-
“How are they the same?”
Ars Poetica
A poem
Forms in the mind of its
Creator.
Its words
Flow out like
Water.
So effortlessly generated.
It’s altered as it goes.
Rhythm and
Rhyme.
For its meaning just appears
Pain, anger
Will or wit
Fills the void or
Scratches
That itch.
3D Prints
Broken thumbs.
Blistering, bruising, bleeding
Down sharp edges of cracked skin.
Coiled around speckled plastic,
Of bleak modesty.
Toying at each tattered edge
with Elation.
There you are.
Sinfully draped over gorgeous
lethal luster.
Sprinkled among young hornet’s nests
Abuzz
Teeming with delight
Drenched in the sanguineous syrupy glaze
Of untarnished beauty.
The kind of beauty
I have never known.
Habitual Sleeplessness
Mind drifting further and further away-
Eyes forced to stay closed.
The insomnia does get worse like they say-
All my dreaming postponed.
Eyes forced to stay closed.
Soon to be peacefully sleeping I pray-
All my dreaming postponed.
Lack of rest, throwing off my entire day.
Dreading the rising sun, begging the moon to stay-
Eyes forced to stay closed.
Asking and pleading with God to meet me halfway-
All my dreaming postponed.
Eyes forced to stay closed.
When morning comes I’ll want to downplay-
All my dreaming postponed.
My strength is about to give way-
Stress Baker
Cookies, custard, cobbler, and cake
There is no limit to what I’ll bake-
Especially under pressure or full of worry.
Mind racing, measuring, mixing, with vision blurry-
The relief felt by the simple sound of the oven roaring.
The sweet smell of cookies baking by the dozens-
Doing what I have to do can be quite boring.
About to start the next batch, time to get pouring.
Tattooed
Across the room, he rests relaxed
Legs spread, arms perched
upon them
Wandering thoughts overtake my being
My mind’s legs run away with me
He is a human canvas of the Finest art
Designed especially
For
Him
His veins lay under dark lines
Needled
with precision, near perfection
NO MOURNERS NO FUNERALS says his wrist
Celtic style knot, nestles on the swell of his
Chest, below the line of his neck
Soft skin behind his ear
Adorned with the hat of a mad man
Across the room, he rests, relaxed
Legs spread, arms perched upon them
He is a human canvas
The finest art designed especially for him
Calculated wounds, made for the sake of
Beauty
TO BE A WOMAN
I’m a Woman! What are you?
Are you –a Woman- too?
Then there are two of us!
Let’s go! Tell everyone – you know!
I SEE IT
Harmony
Create order
Truly save culture
A
Visual harmony
Of simple tragedies
English Sonnet: Halloween
When leaves start turning orange and brown
Kids start to dress in costumes so dandy.
For this day, all throughout the town
It's time for kids to get some candy.
Every boy and girl should have a mask
And with a smile, they will knock on the door.
All kids know what question they have to ask
Trick or Treat? I want candy! Give me more.
Up in the sky, with the orange moon so full
A witch is joined by her fuzzy black cats.
A scarecrow is leaning against a pole.
The silence is broken by bats.
Halloween is not always a fright,
But a reason for anyone to act like a kid that night.
Pantoum
My soccer game is today
On a hot and sunny day
The field is far away
Players are getting ready to play
On a hot and sunny day
The fans are loud
Players are getting ready to play
In the sky, not a single cloud.
The fans are loud
As the players take their position
In the sky, not a single cloud
All the players knew their mission.
Ignorance is Bliss
Oh! the stupidity in my youthful age
Snippets of memories haunt my mind
It’s an old barn cat who suddenly appears
It creeps up without your permission
Red faced at the silly thought in my head
A jerking memory steals the moment
I flew off the van in one swift moment
Ripped the soles from my shoes tired with age
That fall should’ve knocked some sense into my head
But in my youth, I didn’t pay it no mind
I just kept on rollin with full permission
Toiling away the years it appears
Novel situations, one right after another it appears
Jumpin from river bridges--never a dull moment
Camping two states away without my parents’ permission
I grew up so quickly in all that young age
But wisdom was slow to trickle into my mind
Maybe as a baby I was dropped on my head
All the comings and goings of great ideas in my head
Would not offer satisfaction for long it appears
Trying new things, I was expanding my mind
No extension built in time, I will seize the moment
I thought I knew better than those with old age
Hangin on the fringe, I need no permission
The world is mine to do as I please, I have permission
So certain I once heard, “it’s all good, go ahead”
I was free-fallin into a beautiful age
Only good things happening as it appears
Just livin for the moment
Full speed ahead of my mind
What was I thinking? I was out of my mind
The very idea of permission!
Felt like a stolen opportune moment
Why would I use my head?
I despise that notion when it appears
I wanted to remain in the stage of that age
Oh, but time is measured with age
But there’s more to it or so it appears
That I may reach higher using my head
On the Road 1995-1997
Two friends, Doug and Dirty Joe, hop a freight train
Never lookin to the next moment until they’ve run dry
Livin on the road with nothin but a pack on their back
Box car slumbers for the humblest of members
Never lookin to the next moment until they’ve run dry
Existin under city bridges, sleepin on boxes with empty wine bags
Box car slumbers for the humblest of members
Spangin for change by flyin a catchy sign
Existin under city bridges, sleepin on boxes with empty wine bags
To Nashville, the Ozarks, Salt Lake City, and Berkeley
Spangin for change by flyin a catchy sign
Layin low, hidin from bulls til their next train came in
To Nashville, the Ozarks, Salt Lake City and Berkeley
Meetin and greetin faces with mirrors in their eyes
Layin low, hidin from bulls til their next train came in
Weary souls on the road treadin for a street to call home
End goal
PerfectGreatContentGoodAcceptable - But it is all done in love and passion Patience and breathing. Day by day by day.
Expectations, performance, and results -
A weight, a stress, a dream, a pace defined -
The work, resources, and time culminate.
To be greater than our fathersownbeliefs
It cripples, it strains, it burns to the soul
Lose sleep, lose hairs, lose peers due to malaise
And justify it all fighting one’s health
NothingBeginning of greater reward
Moment will favor those willing to work
Do not be broken or beat. Hold heads high.
Labor now, for tomorrow brings harvest.
Why reflect?
Perhaps
The architect
Is in dreams
Grace
Age 4: the first time I got called fat.
Age 6: the first time daddy ever hit me.
Age 7: the first time I got treated me differently because of my skin color.
Age 8: the first time I met Asher.
Age 10: the first time I was ever sexualized.
Age 11: the first time I had to wear a bra.
Age 12: the first time I got dress coded at school.
Age 13: the first time a girl attacked me in the hall.
Age 14: the first time I learned about suicide.
Age 15: the first time I got felt up in the back of a car.
Age 16: the first time a boy ever forced himself on me.
Age 17: the first time I ever touched daddy’s gun.
Age 18: the first time I ever used daddy’s gun.
Age 19: N/A
Asher
Age 4: the first time I got into a fight at school.
Age 6: the first time I broke a bone.
Age 7: the first time I got told not to cry because I was a boy.
Age 8: the first time I met Grace.
Age 10: the first time I had a crush.
Age 11: the first time I gave a girl a present.
Age 12: the first time dad ever let me ride in the front seat.
Age 13: the first time I ever had a beer.
Age 14: the first time a French kissed a girl.
Age 15: the first party I went to.
Age 16: the first time I “made love”
Age 17: the first time I fell in love
Age 18: the first time Grace wouldn’t call me back.
Age 19: the first year I lived without Grace.
English Sonnet
Once upon a time I loved this one boy,
I wanted to give him all of my heart.
Within a few years I was just a toy,
All he ever did was tear me apart.
I feel relieved now that I am alone,
You stole something I will never get back.
So fearful that my heart has turned to stone,
And with one slight move it will surely crack.
I tried very hard to give us my all,
While you sat back and made me feel so dumb.
The things you’d say to make me feel so small,
And in the end my love for you was numb.
I’ll always cherish the good times we had,
But I’ll forever remember the bad.
Italian Sonnet
This will have been my first time trying this,
I am all too excited to be here.
While I am thrilled I am also full of fear,
If you could slow down and let me rest, Miss.
Let me catch my breath so I don’t resist,
So soon our time together is near.
How my one wish would be to preserve,
This time together was full of bliss.
Waking up the next morning feeling sore,
Craving for some more time in that sweet heat.
Longing for you as these feelings won’t pass,
Feeling as if you make my life complete.
Remembering sweat dripping from each pore,
My first time at Hot Yoga kicked my ass.
Café Coffee Sway
Anything brewed,
Bubbly, Black, Butter
Blue blazing blossoms,
Budding to blooming,
Sure; Sure; Sure;
Hand never leaving mug,
As if something was still brewing.
Stemming.
Shrub seeds,
Swayed and swirled,
Smooth Sensual yet
Stern.
Tantalizing and Mesmerizing.
No, thank you.
No, more.
As we headed for the door.
Heel
My body aches with carrying a heavy load
I climb this mountain full of resentment
My heel begins to speak
--in harsh tones with every step
Unwilling to stop and acknowledge my wound
Just a little further to go--I must!
Finally, I heel to the pain and sit
Sliding off my dusty boot
I peel back a sweaty woolen sock
A red angry blister stares back at me
I inhale and exhale deeply a few moments
I take a minute to dress my wound
A band-aid that fortifies
I am able to carry on
They Came for Him
Uncle Dave wrecked his precious Indian
Lying like a fallen brave in the battle for his life
He is draped across a background of white
I sit on his bed, sending healing energy
He is comatose, I tell him it’s okay
-- to just let go
Outside they wait with coolers
His sons paw at me, gasping between sobs
They beg for the power to save him
The chaplain gives his blessing while the room
--turns sideways and tumbles in slow motion
My cousins writhe on the floor
--like worms with a hook in em
Waves of red pulsate through me
The boys howl at the chaplain
--who is bewildered by their pain
Eventually they burn out
The aftermath is blue smoldering smoke drifting
--across their heads which hang limp in defeat
My uncle hangs on for two more days
The harvesters go back to where they came
He wakes
