Common Sense

I always find it interesting when people target groups of people having no idea what they are talking about. Like just because they say a thing, it is so! It’s pathetic really the amount of time spent spinning old yarns like if I spin it the right way it will somehow make sense this time. I won’t. The sweater is still too tight, too ugly and smells of lies, lied so long ago they just get more pungent in the re-telling.

It seems that the more we evolve (some of us), the more we de-evolve. I get that the idea of someone living their lives on their own terms is frightening but shouldn’t it be more frightening to the one living that life, not the one fantasizing on how other’s live their lives? I mean I don’t worry about how you are going to pay your bill. Those are YOUR bills. I am certainly not going to worry about what is happening (or not) in your bedroom. That’s YOUR bedroom!

So, unless respect for self and others has been out sourced with oh so many jobs, I’m thinking it’s your job to mind your business, not anyone else’s.

Bully Culture Alive And Well And on a Television or Facebook Status Near You!

We live in a world where we celebrate the bad and tear down the good. It teaches it's citizens to vilify and pigeon hole and hate. It pushes lies an almost fact until we are all full and we can't see the good in people. There are no perfect humans. They are going to churn this man who did something good until he is as bad as the man who held these women captive. And the other humans with the bad things in their backyards that no one has discovered because their good hasn't made the little big screen will help smear this muck around until that is all there is. He's a hero and only the most fucked of the human race would get off on circumventing the good to glorify the bad.
I haven't slept much or well in a few days so the filters are loose.

This is the shyt that makes people not want to help each other and it's fucking bullying. When a society actively publicly bullies why the fuck is the same society shocked that it is a popular thing with the kids they have taught so well. It's the equivalent to the boy who slapped me in middle schools because he said I was too smart for my own good always getting A's and shit. The only difference he was one guy, what do you do when it's a nation bullying you? When it's one guy you can ambush his ass later try some of the tricks you learned in martial arts and threaten to cut off his goody parts and stuff them down his throat if he ever even thinks about touching you again. He won't be able to use my tactics on the nation. I personally am only going to share the positive. There is too much negative in this world I refuse to contribute. Now I get to add this to the other sad, thanks America.

32/30 Ethereal

There is a place inside of me unreachable by normal means
but normal hasn’t lived here in many years
so you may not recognize that objects
are not as close as they appear
and you are not as close as I thought
could be I need a stronger prescription
or my vision suffers from acute rose colored tint.

There was a time when I zombied my way through my existence
believing rejection was an anagram of my name
regardless of the lack of similar letters
I would write poems
hang them around my room
pretend they were mirrors
every once in a while I’d glimpse my own reflection
I’d wave and sometimes I waved back.

There was a winter when I felt less myself than usual
I took a walk without a coat
shivered myself calmer
held myself like a lover and in that instance
I wasn’t alone in my loneliness
I have never been truly warm since.

There is a place inside of me sometimes I scream in there
the echoes feel like pulse
so loud I cover my ears
but I am the only one who feels the terror of it
the only one who hears
this is probably a good thing.

31/30 Transparent

back in the bad old dark days
when I wore invisible
like forgotten in the margins
like a fancy shiny party dress
perfect for dancing
with a plunging neckline
to show off my self-esteem
slits up to my thigh
make-up thick like war paint
or the undertakings of undertakers
dead in my flesh
but hoping to catch your eye
you never remembered me
when I wore it
so I threw the dress away

now
every once in a while
like a haunting
someone else wearing your eyes
does not remember me
standing right there
invisible
and I feel that dress
the plunging neckline
a noose choking the breath
out of me
it does not fit the way it used to
something I cannot afford to be comfortable in
forgettable

besides
no one dances anymore

30/30 Do you have morals

my reaction
was not so much about the question
more about what you wanted to ask
but didn't

you were not concerned about my principles
or the distinction between right and wrong
you were calling me wrong
hoping my response would make you right

and it's sad really
me expressing conveying my truth
you judging
have I mentioned
I love the way you judge
the way you know wrong and right
because of the mere fact that
you are male and straight
quoting scriptures with that drink in your hand
Looking all sinful but with soul

but me
I'm too classy
won't ask if you've ever cheated on you wife
driven while high or imbibed
have you ever made a move
on someone young enough
to be your daughter
or fudged on your taxes
cut someone off in traffic
ever lied stole or gambled
because if i asked those
would be real questions
unlike the one you posed to me
I might be over reacting the way females do
and those lesbians they all radical and fringe

Now had you asked
do I conduct myself in such a way
that hundreds of parents entrusted
me with co-parenting privileges
or does anyone see me beyond my sexuality
or if the children I birthed and raised
hold my name in their hearts tight
or is it a fact that I can conform but choose not to
mostly because I refuse to be vague
in my existence

so excuse me
if I don't answer you question
but when you get brave enough
to ask the one lodged in you throat
the one tangled in your homophobia
when you ask the right question
trust me
I will have the right answer

29/30 What Some See As Hopeless

the problem with being a romantic
is that even though the siren song
blares it's warnings all ten decibels
a sound that clearly means
danger is ahead and you should run the fuck away
and on the faint of heart it works
they actually heed the warning
they avoid the sharp rock action
they head for calmer seas

but we romantic types
we run towards the sound
look for the storm clouds a smile
wrapped around sharp edges
we get just a little bit closer
closer, closer to the edge look over it
size up the fall decide well,
it isn't that far and besides our love
is so pure powerful
we feel a little indestructible
believe we can survive the rocks
choke our way through the waves
endure the storm
hell, we are lightning strike proof
and if we get destroyed
the more fanciful of us know
that at least we will look poetic
broken body strewn about the beach and
I'm so in love with you
spelled out in the sand in blood
seeping from our opened mouth
the same color of our hearts

i mean
we know we won't die
but there is just something
maybe
it's the color of you
the shape of your smile
that flutter kick stutter
thing that happens when our eyes meet
and the world tips
that's what does it
kills us every time

28/30 Digging For Lost Gold

so much of what happened
could have been avoided
a simple no
a withdrawal of eye contact
removal of the cables
before they attempt to
jump start old business
not accepting your friend request
that is what I should have done
had i done that actually listened
to my shoulder angels
both of them screaming
you know fucking better
with their flares and sirens
had i listened
so much of this could have been ignored

but honestly,
i don't think it could be avoided
i don't think i wanted to avoid it
i know i wanted to jump in
knew it was the deep end
but i was a fucking lifeguard once
and if i can save others surely
i can save myself plus
i wanted to see if for who it was in real time
wanted to touch it make it say my name again
hold it close again whisper in its ear
hands on my hips strapped in pleasure
breaking beds and climbing walls

i didn't avoid it because i
wondered if i sprawl under her
all X marks the spot my geography
all its boarders wide open
if she would remembered where
my treasure was buried
and plunder


she did

27/ 30 Sista's Grimm

she wants me to tell her a story
one full of dreams and hopes
white knights and fairytale fantasies
but I don't know those stories

I know of hurt and sorrow
sin and sex in and out of closets
tears and healing and what's for dinner
why is this house not clean
and are you going to answer that
with your straight gay face
tone it down bury yourself invisible
claw through your own heart
to surface breathe stuck in lungs
and sweat and fear
these are the stories that haunt me
trip off my tongue bullets and fury

she begs for a story
I warn her with my straight gay face
that my stories are full of guts and vulnerability
lost loves and fallen angels
heartstrings pulled to distortion distraction
shipwrecks, siren songs pit bulls and pirates
that take more than they give
pull you off center scatter your thoughts
break you and pisses on your future
while kissing you on the mouth
some would call them demons
dress them in colors all dark
and fangs shrouded in hind sight
they descend these stories sometimes
from place inside me where I hide
them and they surface all jack in the box
knock me off metaphorical horses
and punch people in their faces

I tell her all the ugly
pick at all the scabs let her watch
the ooze and glitter pull open my chest
show her my soft broken places
the punctures and broken promises
I bare myself naked show her my geography
highlighting the rough terrain trace my
stretch marks connect the dots of every mole
every blemish all the dirt and I wait for her
to walk away show me her polite retreating back
tether myself to the earth so her evacuation
will not leave me depleted

she surprises me
pulls open her chest shows me her
soft broken places guides my hand inside
invites me to stay tells me that those stories
the ones full of dreams and hopes
white knights and fairytale fantasies
without the hurt and helplessness
that real people feel in real time have
always frightened her

she wants the story where the two
heroins bring their hurt together heal each other
in the telling rediscover the beats in their hearts
unashamed of who knows
kissing in the light and pride
holding even when they both are accustomed
to letting go and disappointment and shame
I tell her I don't know that story
she tells me she doesn't know that story either
figures we can write one together
and gives me her pen

26/30 Cadaver

when you get the time
remove my corpse from the cold
lay me out
like you always do
you know the texture of my bones
my flesh goose under your touch
make sure the scalpel is sharp
so the incision is clean and “Y” perfect
when you cut through my rib cage
don’t go to any expense any
pruning shears you might find
at any random hardware store will do
you will need the leverage
to lift my chest plate and cut through
my heart
my lungs
my liver exposed
put your hands in deep
don’t bother to wear gloves
you have been here before
left you marks and bruises
enjoy the art of it
analyze and weigh
excavate the organs you want to display
frame them
hang them on a wall
walk by and view them from time to time
donate them to a museum
so everyone can see
what messy art you make

25/ 30 Everything She Wants

it started as a dare
you soon learned not to dare me
to do anything that wouldn't result in death
we became marathon runners
check list risk takers
we would have sex
everywhere

my favorite was in the elevator
both times
the first all concealed and safety
the second all glass open
like we were saying
watch me world as I go up and down
at the same time

it pleased you that I wasn't afraid
didn't know I was supposed to be
didn't know that the idea of two girls together
the way we two girls were together
might cause others to want to harm us
so wrapped up in the magic
I created scenarios to tease the sex out of you
the feathers were fun
adding honey not my best idea
and yes we ruined my sheets
and yes I let you leave for work
a feather stuck to your back
giggled thinking about how you would explain

I still have some of that in me
and there are times when I find myself
in places we made it in
and wonder where you are
when’s the last time you
fingered a girl at a ball game
or made love on a rooftop
I was in that elevator the other day the glass one
memory made my whole body blush
I could feel your breath in my ear whispering
I dare you

24/30 Shining Star

The year I turned ten St. Louis was a recent memory
Georgia red clay under foot mass exodus
to the black mecca of the south I was transplanted.
That year I became a southern bell
scraped knees and too thin.

Music was my everything in those days
my transistor in my pocket shaky reception grooving.
I wore ponytails back then and plastic shoes chasing down
the ice cream man in perfect rhythm.

School days filled with southern drawls that made me question
the English language the letter “r” in words where they did not belong.
The subtle differences of being black in the south
my northern fighting on playgrounds a different kind of civil war.

There seemed to be more sky here more future and forever.
Our roots the same growing in different dirt reshaping our tree.
I used to sit in the window listen to the city sounds my boom box tuned in.
While Earth Wind and Fire sang me into the world.

You're a shining star
No matter who you are
Shining bright to see
What you could truly be

23/30 when the moon is full and you remember

when the moon is full and you remember
those nights when our skin was the same
where you ended I began we could not tell
did not want to know

I was lighter then
my spirit not this weighed down vessel
feeling the best and worst at the same time
when love was simple
and you said it
you said you loved me
and I believed
how could you touch me like this
if you did not love me
stars in my eyes for you
blind and deaf ears

you did not mean it
not completely
I figured this was your way
of punishing me
to prove some point
I would never understand
because you would never explain
and now I do not want to know
the why of it

the aftermath has left me
second guessing myself
happy out of my reach
filled me with the fear
that every next lover
will not love me
the way you did not
even when they say they do
so I am afraid to act
afraid of my own tongue

the sting of rejection
is the gift that keeps on giving
the one you cannot return
it takes up so much space
my heart is full of it
and the scars are fresh
and open and seeping
and sad
and unworthy
and longing
and lonely
and you

when the moon is full and you remember
remember that time you taught me a lesson
I will never forget

sigh

“I think you still love me, but we can’t escape the fact that I’m not enough for you. I knew this was going to happen. So I’m not blaming you for falling in love with another woman. I’m not angry, either. I should be, but I’m not. I just feel pain. A lot of pain. I thought I could imagine how much this would hurt, but I was wrong.”
― Haruki Murakami

22/30 Help Me Rhonda

maybe it was an omen
a warning
letting me know from the day I was born
that I would be haunted by memories
of her
of them
the women who once cleaved to me
their truths tattooed on new skin
holding me like secrets
like time and times
like I am free to love the way I love
I don’t want to be rescued from my memories
don’t want to croon it over and over
Rhonda
I am sure you could have fit the bill
I love the feel the skin
could give a damn what color
they are wrapped in
I’m not afraid of losing love
I have lost it before
gender a metaphor
I have lost it by making the decision
to take love off life support
kiss it on the lips
as it goes up in flames
it haunts me like a scent
in my clothes on the wall
in my nose on my skin
in the fur of the pets that watched
gave their approval
licked my face the morning after
so I have lost nothing
and I want to keep
the memories
the feeling I've felt at and under
the hands of love in the moment
those memories
have never frightened me
I keep them
hold them promise
my fear is not that I have loved
it might be that they won’t remember
how much I loved them
so maybe in that respect you could
help me
Rhonda

21/30 A Haiku imagining Eve in modern times if she channeled Rick James and addressing those who blame her for Adams sort comings, their periods and a host of other shit.

Man, woman, apple
I am the beginning of
all life
I’m Eve Bitch

20/30 Why I Got to go and Make Things So Complicated?

if you and i get together
if you and i get together and like it
if you and i get together and we like it like a lot
if you and i get together and we like it a lot and then claim it
if you and i get together and we like it a lot and then claim it and then decide we want to be together

if you and i get together and we like it like a lot and the claim it and then decide we want to be together so we make promise then change our statuses

if you and i get together and we like it like a lot and then claim it and then decide we want to be together so we make promise then change our statuses and let everyone know

if you and i get together and we like it like a lot and then claim it and then decide we want to be together so we make promise then change our statuses and let everyone know and then folks start tripping trying to break us up and shit

if you and i get together and we like it like a lot and then claim it and then decide we want to be together so we make promise then change our statuses and let everyone know and then folks start tripping trying to break us up and shit and your mom she's hot and more mature than you

if you and i get together and we like it like a lot and then claim it and then decide we want to be together so we make promise then change our statuses and let everyone know and then folks start tripping trying to break us up and shit and your mom she's hot and more mature than you she starts doing stuff like flirting with me

if you and i get together and we like it like a lot and then claim it and then decide we want to be together so we make promise then change our statuses and let everyone know and then folks start tripping trying to break us up and shit and your mom she's hot and more mature than you she starts doing stuff like flirting with me and something fucked up happened like i kicked your dog

if you and i get together and we like it like a lot and then claim it and then decide we want to be together so we make promise then change our statuses and let everyone know and then folks start tripping trying to break us up and shit and your mom she's hot and more mature than you she starts doing stuff like flirting with me and something fucked up happened like i kicked your dog or slept with your mom because she's sexy

if you and i get together and we like it like a lot and then claim it and then decide we want to be together so we make promise then change our statuses and let everyone know and then folks start tripping trying to break us up and shit and your mom she's hot and more mature than you she starts doing stuff like flirting with me and something fucked up happened like i kicked your dog or slept with your mom because she's sexy only i really didn't kick your dog because that's mean

if you and i get together and we like it like a lot and then claim it and then decide we want to be together so we make promise then change our statuses and let everyone know and then folks start tripping trying to break us up and shit and your mom she's hot and more mature than you she starts doing stuff like flirting with me and something fucked up happened like i kicked your dog or slept with your mom because she's sexy only i really didn't kick your dog because that's mean but i did kind of sleep with your mom because she's kinda hot and really imaginative and flexible


if you and i get together and we like it a like lot and then claim it and then decide we want to be together so we make promise then change our statuses and let everyone know and then folks start tripping trying to break us up and shit and your mom she's hot and more mature than you she starts doing stuff like flirting with me and something fucked up happened like i kicked your dog or slept with your mom because she's sexy only i really didn't kick your dog because that's mean but i did kind of sleep with your mom because she's kinda hot and really imaginative and flexible and you get so pissed well because you would have rather i kicked your dog

if you and i get together and we like it like a lot and then claim it and then decide we want to be together so we make promise then change our statuses and let everyone know and then folks start tripping trying to break us up and shit and your mom she's hot and more mature than you she starts doing stuff like flirting with me and something fucked up happened like i kicked your dog or slept with your mom because she's sexy only i really didn't kick your dog because that's mean but i did kind of sleep with your mom because she's kinda hot and really imaginative and you get so pissed well because you would have rather i kicked your dog can you not break up with me on Facebook

if you and i get together and we like it like a lot and then claim it and then decide we want to be together so we make promise then change our statuses and let everyone know and then folks start tripping trying to break us up and shit and your mom she's hot and more mature than you she starts doing stuff like flirting with me and something fucked up happened like i kicked your dog or slept with your mom because she's sexy only i really didn't kick your dog because that's mean but i did kind of sleep with your mom because she's kinda hot and really imaginative and flexible and you get so pissed well because you would have rather i kicked your dog can you not break up with me on Facebook because that is embarrassing


if you and i get together and we like it like a lot and then claim it and then decide we want to be together so we make promise then change our statuses and let everyone know and then folks start tripping trying to break us up and shit and your mom she's hot and more mature than you she starts doing stuff like flirting with me and something fucked up happened like i kicked your dog or slept with your mom because she's sexy only i really didn't kick your dog because that's mean but i did kind of sleep with your mom because she's kinda hot and really imaginative and flexible and you get so pissed well because you would have rather i kicked your dog can you not break up with me on Facebook because that is embarrassing I mean I slept with your mom

if you and i get together and we like it like a lot and then claim it and then decide we want to be together so we make promise then change our statuses and let everyone know and then folks start tripping trying to break us up and shit and your mom she's hot and more mature than you she starts doing stuff like flirting with me and something fucked up happened like i kicked your dog or slept with your mom because she's sexy only i really didn't kick your dog because that's mean but i did kind of sleep with your mom because she's kinda hot and really imaginative and flexible and you get so pissed well because you would have rather i kicked your dog can you not break up with me on Facebook because that is embarrassing I mean I slept with your mom can we both just agree that this shit is complicated

oh, and can you ask your mom to call me?

19/30 Construction Site

I walls
I protected
I walls protected
I heartbeat
I heartbreak
You beautiful
You wrecking ball
You beautiful wrecking ball
break
I white flag surrender
You beautiful destruction
I destroyed beautifully
You are if it's too good to be true then it's a lie
You are a lie
I am telling the truth
You are don't believe
I am reach
You are out of reach
You are pull away
I am hurt like broken notes
I am songs we never sing anymore
I am tooth ache
You are remember in reverse
You are reverse
you are forget the me you chose
You are locking me in closets
I've escaped from once before
You are hide the key
You magician poof change for me you wave wands

You are accuse me of not letting you in
not letting you see the real me
not letting you squeeze till it hurts
You are trying to earthquake me
You earthquake me
I am ornament
shiny hung on branches
I am telling you everything
You are ultimatums and balled up fist
I am bulls eye
I am you hurt me
I am remember
I am mason
I am remember I am mason
I am building the walls up again
I am been hurt one too many
You are walk away
You are like the others who walked away
You are me looking at your back
I am walls
I am protected
I am walls protected
I heartbeat
I heartbreak
You beautiful
Your wrecking ball
You beautiful wrecking ball
break
I am white flag surrender

18/ 30 Play

its about the way we fit
the hip and swagger sway of it
the you and me later
call me baby
if we can think of it
it can be done
should be done and
we should do it on a train
we should do it in the rain,
storms are best
skip a bus down town play
secret stranger baby
pick me up in a dive dyke bar
dance dirty with me out loud
shake and shimmy
fuck me senseless
one night stand
in the car baby
the way we play
keeps us honest
keeps us charged
pushing boundaries
binds us ribbon
hold me like a secret
on the tip of you thoughts
hold me in your mouth
and we will create the kind
of memories that magic
is made of baby
it should always be this way
it should always be this open honest
play date dating with you and me
understanding
until you don't
until you heard another woman
laugh in the key of your smile
until you started assuming the worst
stopped telling me your truths
turned trust into dis
you stopped playing with me baby
i felt your attraction slip
when you thought my focus
wasn't focused on you
mistook my busy for misadventure
when you forgot about the way we fit
the hip and swagger sway of it
the you and me later
call me baby
you don't call me baby
no more

17/30 Boxes and Stuff

when he asked me out and I declined
in a nice way I thought
he then asks how I identify myself
I think OK here we go again
this is the part where I am supposed
to box myself
make me compartmentalized
and small
enough for him to grasp
my disinterest
my I am just not interested in his advances
and I have to be something other
because he is the shit
and I should want some him on my shoes
because if a woman doesn't want him
she must be on some other
other
she must be a LESBIAN

when I say I’m pirate-queer
he laughs like I've made a joke
like I didn't understand the question
he says so, you identify as lesbian
I say no
I’m pirate-queer
now he thinks I’m fucking with him
and I kind of am but not simultaneously
I ask how does he identify
when he tells me he is
a straight black heterosexual man
I don’t explain the redundancy
of straight and hetero in the same statement
I don’t point out that he has told me
who he is not how he identifies
and maybe I’m wrong
and maybe people do identify this way
but I don’t, I believe who I am
is not always the same as how
I identify myself

I believe when you look at me
you know a few things right off the bat
you know I am female
I am black
and if I’m wearing my glasses
you can safely deduce that my
vision isn't what it used to be
what you can’t see is my sexuality
I and don’t think I have to naked myself for you
I tell him I don’t identify as a lesbian
It is what I am
like I am a mother
an educator
black
feminist
loud mouth poet
I AM a lot of people at the same time
and if I start putting all the people I am in tidy boxes
they start to add up and they start
feeling like so many little closets
I tell him pirate-queer embodies all the people I am
it’s how I identify

so, he says, I’m supposed to call you pirate-queer?
no, I explain you can call me Theresa,
because that is my fucking name
also who I am
and how or why would I stick all that on a label
and what is his point
then he goes on to tell me how he is
sick of women pretending to be lesbians
oh he means pirate-queer
when he’s trying to get to know them
I just kind of stare pensively
like I’m thinking about his conundrum
and not laughing my ass off in my brain

I say, that’s interesting
so how many pirate-queers have you met
you’re my first one he says
and I think not in this lifetime delusional one
and I’m kind of bummed because
maybe I was hoping he could show me the
path to the other pirate-queers
I mean I can’t be the only one
I tell him if I am going to give myself a label
it’s going to be something I can bedazzle
it’s going to be expression, shine and flair
and love of self
it’s going to be something I create
that speaks to all of me
and yes I am a lesbian
and no I’m not pretending
but you might want to consider
why you think women who don’t
want to go out with you
just don’t want to go out with you
and stop creating identity for them
to justify why they aren't interested in you
it may have absofuckinlutly nothing
to do with their sexuality

he just kind of stares pensively
nods smiles
I knew you were a lesbian
that explains why you won’t go out with me
well yes, I say, I guess it does
then I decide to piss him off
so I ask if he has a sister

16/ 30 True Art

when you unsheathe your tongue
check the blade the prickle sharp
make sure the handle fits your grip
so the splitting and slicing brings
you the maximum amount of pleasure
choose scythe or sickle
rip razor or machete
the type of blade is important
you want your lacerations clearly defined
want to make sure it penetrates
the intersection of your lie and the liar you've become
you want to make sure that the nick nip notch
of your scandalous revisionist history
hits the targeted audience
when I turn my back
remember
it’s not disrespect
it’s just me
unveiling canvas
arms splayed like on an easel
and when you stab
make sure you catch the groove in my spine
make it count
bury it to the hilt
make it steamy mental magic
make me monster
cum dripping off my tongue my chin
make me pornographic larger than life
the biggest dick in the yard
make sure you jiggle it some
get it really messy
stick in in deep
I want every single inch
and hold on tight

15/ 30 Suicidal Tendencies

At my worst I am kamikaze lover, reckless in my falling
Two months grounded, you enter the house through a door not a window
Wrapping my sex around your fingers, men are much too easy
I can never come back to you, this bridge has to burn

Two months grounded, you enter the house through a door not a window
Night-light and late love leaves marks that cannot be seen in day
I can never come back to you, this bridge has to burn
Maybe one day you will love me in daytime

Night-light and late love leaves marks that cannot be seen in day
Wrapping my sex around your fingers, men are much too easy
Maybe one day you will love me in daytime
At my worst I am kamikaze lover, reckless in my falling

14/ 30 It Rains Sometimes

in real time
focused
I saw you once
watched you striptease fancy
in my eyes wide open dreams
you, moving like wind and grace
and I don't deserve you
I wore your skin
played undress up with you
our tongues dancing forbidden
fingers wet in wonder
when you left I chased
but you were too fast for me
I could never catch up
moving you were always moving
like the rest of the sharks
afraid that if you slowed down
even a little bit
you might drown in me
still you swam away
you left
I became afterthought
a bump in the road
a misstep
a sneeze
gesundheit

you were my favorite snow globe
on a shelf
out of reach
from hands smaller than mine
high up
on a pedestal
revered
looked up to
you would shake a storm in me
relax as we settled in each other’s arms
the way we did that time
those times
rolling in the magic
of the way the same bodies fit
find the scene calmer that the scene
you created in your leaving
seems the imaginary scene
of the New York's skyline
under glass
covered in moth ball flakes and glitter
were more real the we would ever be

I could see a kind of forever with you
this statement fell out of your mouth
and it could have been the moon
or pillow talk channeling through you
but it made me feel
all spun sugar cotton candy
sweet
like melting in your mouth the way i did
those times that I did
you and me in some kind of forever

it was the sweetest thing you ever said to me

when I am nervous my body tells on me
the tapping of fingers
knees bouncing
could be you are too close
or I am too close to telling you how I really feel
could be I know this is train
waiting to derail and there are flames
and broken promises
the early warning system
my body tells me
but I ignore my body
sometimes
you remind me why
I should not make this a habit

I keep my love in a fist shaped hollow
it bangs on walls steady rhythm
in time
chambered like a weapon aimed in my defense
I listen to it sometimes when I am alone
It seems like I am always alone
Its Morse code reminds me that I am alive
With or without you
You left something broken in me
I touch myself to find the fissures
I listen hard for the skip in the beat
For the I love you I never heard
I sound like an ocean

I used to want to be a fish
all scaly gold mermaid
holding on to my memories of you
while holding my breath
forever

IN A MINUTE

13/30 Pallbearer

The box will be elaborate. A close fit
snug like your favorite closet. There will not
be enough room to turn or spin. Be prone.
Just lie there. I will do all the work.

Your hair arranged in such a way to cover
the damage from the years when vanity
and too many chemicals made it weak.
I remember your suggestion that I cut mine.

Remember that flash in your eyes when I called
you jealous. I made it a joke. Our first fight was born.
You never touched it gently. You only pulled to steer me
in the direction of your choosing.

The sex was rougher then when you could
rein me in strap me down. I thought of only
the pleasure in the act, the noisy slap and pull
not the fact that I couldn't see your face.

There will be no flowers. Just the sickly smell
of too many lit candles and cheap wine.
I brought you the good stuff once. You turned up your nose.
Another clue ignored.

You turned me cheap paper bag. I was folding
compromising my excellent taste.I bought you flowers once.
You chided me for wasting my money.I never occurred to me
that I was also wasting my time.

You told me you liked fake flowers because they never died.
Another clue ignored. Nothing breathed in your house including me.
Stale air recycling to poison.
Why couldn't I just be fake for you?

There will be no music. No food for consumption.
No one will be invited to this funeral.
Just my memories of you in this elaborate box
with your hair products, cheap wine
sickly scented candles and my favorite strap on.

I will bury these deep.Mark the spot with ugly
but alive flowers and try not to rethink
everything about you.
Everyday.

12/30 Flight 69

The TSA likes to touch me
The TSA likes to touch me in special places
The TSA likes to touch me like a lover, do you love me
The TSA likes feel my hair, feels my hair, thinks I'm hiding stuff up there, thinks me missle launch
The TSA likes reminds me that I can opt out and yet
The TSA likes to remind me that I can’t opt out
The TSA likes my curves, my dangle, my moans of pleasure
The TSA likes my first date, second, third base
The TSA likes my moans, my call me later breathy
The TSA likes my lotion and my vibrator together, wants to know if we can get together
The TSA thinks we are going steady and well maybe
The TSA wants to have my babies and I wonder if
The TSA is part unicorn so we can make that shit happen so I can stop feeling cheap
The TSA and I will have babies that shit glitter
The TSA wants a pre-nup
The TSA is going to be disappointed
The TSA sees me coming applies lip gloss and lube knows how I like it firm and rough
The TSA thinks I'm her girlfriend
The TSA dressed up for me today sent me a proper lesbian when she pats me down she feels me up
The TSA is feeling me up and she is the right build and type and she gives me her number
The TSA will get a call tonight, and I hope she brings those attractive blue gloves

11/30 Lupercalia (part found poem in response to jacked You Tube comment,"It is VALENTINE'S DAY. It should not be VAGINA-DAY. Have your cause on another day!")

very ancient
pastoral festival
avert evil spirits
purify
release health and fertility
februarius in the middle
worship
god of sheperds
founding a temple
wear your goatskin nude
burn the mealscakes
ask Romulus ask Remus
purify new life in the spring
sacrifice two male goats and a dog
anoint your forehead
sacrificial blood
bloody knife
soaked in milk
smile
cut thongs from skins of victims
februa
run around the walls
strike those who crowd near
receive lashes
ensure fertility
prevent sterility
ease the pains of childbirth
be outlawed
be still clinging to Lupercalia
be degraded
run nude around yourself
carry out the mockery
or
be seven men shot down
be Al Capone
be Bugs Moran
be 14 bullets in body and not talking
be so disgusted
be sickened and running away
be dead three hours later
be in love with the idea
be looking for love in wrong places
and held in Lupercalia's arms
early for spring
but cleaned up and ready to mate
be flowers and roses
and sentiment in the moment
be an idiot
ignoring the sex in your sexy
or the blood in your celebration
look at all the red
muse it love
muse it giving freely
blood flowing freely
call it roses and dark
like chocolate
like blood from vagina
carry out the mockery

then take your two hands
place them over your gaping mouth
secure them firmly
and shut the fuck up

10/30 Check Out

i’m done library lending
myself to disinterested readers
who want a story
but not the truth
not the cobwebs spinning
not the tears and bruise
they want to be entertained
and anything other
than that thing they want
they break my spine
re-shelf me crooked
call me liar and spent
hold expectation over my head
watch me jump
but not high and mighty enough
not good enough
to forestall the great waves
of disappointment left behind
above
in front of
it’s all very interesting
until it’s not
until it’s same shit different day
and my arms pinwheel
like I’m trying to hold the reader’s attention
trying to safe land, harbor home them
but my vocabulary strains the tongue
my geography lost on the pages
dog eared never to be revisited

I think I’m done with that
I think my branches have tried too hard
to reach the one who dare not be touched
dare not be this
you
why you try so hard
when you watch those reader
choose horror and chaos comic book
why you gotta be so not that
why do you care?

is it because that is how you are shaped
built
bred
because caring is how you navigate this world
built on other and destruction
so you destroy yourself in understanding
or trying to be understood
when you should care less
because if you did
they’d care more
cherish what’s not there
a quick read saying nothing
maybe you can be best seller
if you said nothing
think about it
what can they learn from you
when you've already been
cliff noted by you cover
why should they read
when they can just watch

tell them a story
one they can believe
one where no truth is evident
footnote the truths
no one reads those
the footnotes
no one cares where you come from

9/30 ranting again PET PEEVES

first let me begin by saying
we are not fighting
or rather i am not fighting with you
i just think some clarity
some light needs to shine
in this space
so you can see clearly
how much distance there really is
between us
and mind you i realize
that by the end of this
i will sound full of myself
fancy crackhead
who the fuck she think she is
and
i know you may not
have seen all of this coming
but since you think you know me so well,
maybe you should have expected it



do not begin to tell me
what i cheat myself out of
or who
i know what i've lost
kept every bandage
marked those hurts in ink
and stained
they are tattoed in places
you don't get to see
just because you want to
don't present yourself as treasure un-buried
tell me what i need to see
i have been a pirate longer
than you have been breathing
and am fully aware that
all that glitters
is not gold
and if you are really paying attention
you know i prefer silver
and if you are giving
it away
it can't be that valuable
i've got hand-me-downs of my own
i don't borrow trouble or other peoples dramas
my house has no room to store your shit

there are only a few rules to me
not complicated
and though i tend to put myself
in situations where taking advantage
of my kindness is possible
i sacrifice the bones
and heart muscles freely
and i know it's going to fucking hurt
but i make the decision to go down that road
not you

i appreciate honesty
skin that wants my touch
even if it's only in the moment
and those moments don't always last
regardless of how much I want them too
sometimes I linger long after dismissed
back tracking looking for missteps
that were never taken
maybe they just weren't taken with me
i fall fast and hard
and often
and if haven't fallen your way
there might be a reason

i don't let just anybody meet my kids
they love elephant like i do
you become family and needed and
if a connection is severed
we are a bum knee or toothache
we wonder about searching for remedies
to fix what cannot be fixed
it's a risk
and when i risk them
and i am wrong the guilt is a broken place
so no you will not meet my children
i have risked them for my sake to often
i have spent three years being wrong
if you don't believe they exist
then they don't
now that we have cleared that up
there are no children for you not to meet
don't ask
ever

and speaking of the children
i don't have that you will never meet
if you are old enough to be one of those children
who did not fall out of my vagina
you are not old enough to fall into my vagina
i am not being ageist or any other thing
you think i might be
i know my limitations
just respect that

i am not looking for anything
i don't want anything from you
these wounds have not healed
and i am not ready to settle
for what i do not want
the last time i settled
i lost my voice for a decade
the laryngitis left me empty
and i have no desire to be
invisible that way again

i'm working on the other parts
of me that are not seen
and yes i am flattered
that you see me all literal
and profile picture perfect
but i don't have the energy
or hope right now to dig
my way into a relationship
i don't believe in
maybe once i begin to stop
believing in the failures
but even then
you kinda fucked up by assuming you know me
by presuming you can just say anything to me
a foul attempt to shame me
because you think i should want you
as you finger wag in my direction
for plodding through my own shit

so even when i stop sulking
when the wounds have healed
as much as they ever do
i won't seek you out
because that ideal person you think you see
it's not me
i mean, i would never wear those colors

and i know what you are thinking
"she sound full of herself
fancy crackhead!
who the fuck she think she is"

8/30 Revival

in the church of poet
there are no pews
no tambourines
there are chairs
that have seen better days
a bar-stool or two or more
no pulpit
but music stands
and microphones
truth falls freely
sometimes
on it's own
sometimes
wrapped in bowdlerized lies
that look like something
we are running to or away from
heads bowed
praying for blessings
from muses we ignore
when the truth hurts too much
reveals too much
you cannot cover
surgery with band aids
or empty promise
of someday
turned never

I come here often
ears wide
reach within
show me more of something
anything
my only offering these words
confused and hurt
my skin hanging loosely
from bones grown weary
and heavy
when my legs
can't feel themselves
on knees I ask for forgiveness
sometimes they hear
they snap and the flies swarm my eyes
there is everything
and nothing in the moment
that sustains

head bowed
I hope to be strong enough
to hold myself together
keep the bad away
just today
just now
so I can breathe myself
whole again
this heart is too open
and everything buzzes and squeezes
every touch is bad
and my spirit cannot swim
not today
I give you my back
so the blade of you tongue
hits it mark
back handed compliments
and false sentiment
flavored tea steeped in lies
that taste no better
when they are expelled
over mics
or in porecelain toilets
where the water is blue
and I see myself floating
clockwise into no more
then refilled
revived to some degree
and sometimes not at all

7/30 Happy Hour

that time i told you i loved you
i meant it from the bottom of my glass
ice rattling like the bones wind chiming in your closet
you mistook me for salvation
for redemption, co-conspirator
for get away car

when we left our mess all over the floor
and on the walls the curtains rustled
told the neighbors there was problem
there were words thrown out with the baby and the bath water
they turned their heads as i turned away
there is a cost to living one foot in and out of closets

that time i told you i'd come by later
not to stay but to watch the sunrise between thighs
tiptoe through your tulips
never ever did forever seep through my pores
never did i tell you it was ok for you to connect
in the way that you did

we were trip wire waiting for explosion
messy with expectation
you expecting me to skeleton key myself invisible
me expecting you to be concrete
not some abstract version of affection
a panoramic view of fuckery

that time i told you i loved you
i meant it from the bottom of my glass

6/30 Playing with old poems that belong to other people

*It's official I'm depressed. Depression and insomnia. Not a great combo. Fuck!*


Monday’s child is full of face
and works double hard to keep the pace
to stay ahead remain on top
she runs her mouth it never stops
she forgets to eat and rarely sleeps
some stages will never feel her feet
she's working hard and wiping tears
remembers she's human faces her fears
and when the day is done she writes a poem
the only way to soothe her soul

Tuesday’s child is full of grace
she's tall, head high, a swagger in her gate
her progeny makes her full lips peel
a grin to show a pride so strong
her legacy, it will live on and on
family is priority for this girl with teeth
she brings home the bacon that she will also eat
the week is just starting so far so good
and when the day is done she writes a poem
the only way to soothe her soul

Wednesday’s child is full of woe
She works real hard not to let it show
But it’s on her face and it’s on her skin
She wonders if she’ll ever love again
It it’s worth taking down the walls she’s worked hard to erect
So her name once again sounds the same as reject
She forces a smile and hopes no one can see
and when the day is done she writes a poem
the only way to soothe her soul

Wednesday’s child has far to go
in which direction I doubt she knows
but she keeps moving despite the tears,
despite the lonely and the fears
she know if she stops she will cease to be
and believes no one will notice she’s taken her leave
so she jumps in the car and take long rides
and when the day is done she writes a poem
the only way to soothe her soul

Friday’s child is loving and giving
and angry and hurt and placidly forgiving
the week has turned long and her faith has gotten low
she has no one to talk to so nobody knows
she runs errands buys groceries and plans a great meal
today she has her son he makes her laugh and feel healed
his love has no sanctions, no conditions or trapdoors
and she knows in her heart this boy’s mom he adores
the only way to soothe her soul

Saturday’s child works hard for a living
She drives, she performs when venues are willing
this work that she does will put food on her table
she gives it her all and opens her heart
then at home she stares at the ceiling or cries in the dark
she is extremely happy and times ridiculously sad
she hope real soon that this shyt will pass (or at least even out)
and when the day is done she writes a poem
the only way to soothe her soul

Sunday’s child is fair and wise and good and gay
that pretty much sums it up and describes her to a “T”
though her fair may look different
her wisdom she doubts
she’s as good as she can be except that pirate part
and gay ????? she is very much that
and when the day is done she writes a poem
the only way to soothe her soul

5/30 Before You Dream

5/30 Before You Dream


before you dream of me tonight, you must first know

that the strongest muscle in proportion to its size in the human body is the tongue

I once held mine in the roof of my mouth for almost a decade now I appreciate its power



and a person cannot taste food unless it is mixed with saliva

every time I see you my mouth dries to desert

I haven’t had a tasty meal in months



and your stomach has to produce a new layer of mucus every two weeks

otherwise it will digest itself and thirty-five percent of the people who

use personal ads for dating are already married

my biological father used to take me on dates with the woman

he cheated on my mother with

I have tried to find someone not you

but I do not trust the process

I’ve seen what cheating does

I want no part of it



did you know a duck's quack doesn't echo, and no one knows why

I have screamed to the sky in nightmares

no one stirred

maybe in my dream I was a Teal

waters churning

if I drowned

who would know those times

I woke heart pounding



and banging your head against a wall uses 150 calories an hour

I’ve been losing weight steadily these past months and I have a little headache



If you yelled for 8 years, 7 months and 6 days,

you would have produced enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee

I start the day with at least two cups

for you I might consider switching to tea



butterflies taste with their feet

if I could forget the sound of my dad no longer breathing

maybe my hands wouldn’t shake so much

you once asked about my rings

I wear them to control the tremors



bullet proof vests, fire escapes, windshield wipers,

and laser printers were all invented by women

I have a scar on my forehead

I don’t remember the impact

or the passing out just waking

with blood in my eye



honey is the only food that doesn't spoil

and most lipstick contains fish scales
the first time I kissed you
that night I dreamed oceans and mermaids



*Teal is a type of duck

# 4 Cordwainer

# 4 Cordwainer

I never wanted quick fix in the moment
I wanted just sometimes
occasionally, every once in a while to know
that when you opened your mouth
something
anything resembling the truth would fall out
not the make believe
cheap wine induce
I’m going to make you believe this
version of happy bullshyt
you piled at my feet
and now look,
you have fucked up my shoes
yes you toyed with my emotions
a kid with new blocks
set me up and knocked me down proper
I’ll let you have the playtime
I should have known better than walk into your yard
damaged toys called ex littering the landscape
here a heart there a heart everywhere a heart, heart

but The shoes

you are paying for the fucking shoes
those innocent bystanders
minding their own business
forced to walk through all that bullshyt!
They deserved so much better.

3/30 for fifth graders who consider homicide when dealing with your own shit is just too much like enough

no one here was born with a manual
no instructions to guide us through
impressions given to us by the world around us
our village takes us at birth
place their hands around our mass
form us
maybe your village was preoccupied
with other things
with leave you on your own
let television and violent games grow you
maybe they should have paid more attention

when I was fifth grade
I was riding bike no helmet
hopscotch and double dutch
be home before the street lights come on
but be outside breathing air
feeling it on your skin
fall and fuck a Band-Aid
put some spit on it and shine
walk it off
I was too busy plotting out my next adventure
how my backyard was a paradise
others could earn entry
if they had the password
when bully was one
everyone knew its name
never looked it in the eye
gave it wide birth
and when the day came
and it called you by name
it would be the day
and at the end of the day
a bloody lip would heal
almost a relief because bully knew
there were other fish to fry
but never did I ever hear of guns
and rape
and premeditated murder
we were too busy kicking the can
and book mobilizing to our next adventure

what were you lacking?
who led you believe that the people
on this planet had to revere you?
what were you learning in that home,
that school of yours?
where is your village?
in my village
I raised three used to be fifth grader
who knew their worth came from within
and hard work
and keep your head up
and there may have been tears
hurt feelings
slaps to pride
but the hands that molded them
held comfort in a touch
support with a smile
or a pat on the back
they knew this world was not required
to love them or respect them
life is precious and time passes everyday
they were freeze tag
and mud pies
jump rope
and flag football
never knives
never guns
never rape
never premeditated murder
where is your village?
who and why didn't they love you
mold you
enough?

2/30 Miscommunication

those times I didn’t pay attention
my heart and mind wandering in different directions
I stumbled over the truth of you
the taste of you singed my tongue
I wanted more
my heart was all about this
pleasure is what it loves best
and pleasure is what she had designed for you
my mind thought you complicated
knew my simple ways
my cut and dry demeanor
it knows how easily my feelings get hurt
and how while I can speak about the injustices in the world
I am slow to come to my own defense
there was a meeting once
my heart was late as usual
at picking up on nuances after engaged
it can’t see the rejection until it hurts
leaves marks that builds walls and self-doubt
my mind remembers
sends down flairs of warning
distracted by the flames my heart mistook
it for burning
for passion
for love
for invitation to fall

1/30 The Problem With Giving Yourself a Pep Talk...

Rough Rant


the problem with giving yourself a pep talk
is that half way through the conversation
you begin to believe it’s all bullshit
like heard it all before
going to change your ways
quit repeating past mistakes
you are not insane
got a bead on the problem
it’s not you it’s them
it’s not over it’s just beginning
and you are mad because all around you is madness
and when they call you paranoid
you punch first and often
aim for their lying throat
because you see what you see despite the spin
the media machine and all the slant
the mass amnesia of forgotten home

and for the life of you
you can't understand
why they are holding their tongues
while yours is flapping flag and no one salutes
you feel the distortion, the rage
it bubbles fist clinched raised
they call you feminist and defensive like that’s a bad thing
when you tell them to go fuck themselves they
blame your disposition on PMS
then you remember where you live
how in this place your kind is just vessel
you are female
some see that as rape-able
breakable
commodity
you remember that talk you had with that cop
the cop who watched as a man let the air out of your tires
then lay in wait for your retuen dark night
that cop who waited and watched
as would be predator ran in terror because
he picked the wrong chick
on the wrong day
the chick who kicks and screams
when she know the tires are brand new
that chick who punches brick walls in an empty parking lots
smacked her chest and says what the fuck are you looking at
in the direction of his fleeing shadow
how he that cop sat and watched
and if it had been another day
and you were not that chick all spit fire and pissed
all brand new tire confident
distracted by the calm
he, that cop might have watched you victim,
raped,
robbed woman
later explaining to you
that how you were dressed made you made
dressing like some long haired sexy pirate
men find that attractive tone down your attractive
dress differently girl
woman
female
know your geography where you live
remember they are men they can't help what they do
remember weak ass Adam
remember the fruit
remember you are fruit
soft skin and sweet
ripe for the picking
pick you up off floor
off dirt road
off asphalt in well-lit parking lot
drag you across town
drag you across Ohio
on and off buses
piss on your skin
why you wearing your skin
look how you wearing that skin
it’s so tight that skin
the way it clings to all your parts
they can see you parts underneath all that skin
you know some men find skin sexy
why you out here wearing all that skin
you fruit
you woman
you asking to be peeled back and tasted
don't you know you are fruit and they don't
want you to own your tree
remember where you live
that you are female just like your daughters
it’s not you it’s them
it’s not over it’s just beginning
the problem with giving your daughters a pep talk
is that half way through the conversation
you begin to fear that they will believe it’s all bullshit
so you dig your roots in deeper
stand firm in your own tree
make them understand this is real

Been There Done That Twice! It's Your Turn!

The smell of change is in the air. Well, there is a smell and it might be change but the stench of intolerance is still pretty stinky. Lately I feel a bit overwhelmed by all of the symptoms of bigger problems. A totally different topic. Next post!

As a woman who has been married, twice, to men, twice and divorced, twice, for a while I was very convinced that marriage in any form was a kinda shiny enslavement. I got the ring and the kids but, I also got the mixed messages and the infidelity and a host of other things that could have been avoided had we just agreed to live in separate houses with conjugal visits and attempt to maintain some level of respect for each other. As I continue to mature, a little more each day, I realize that the idea of spending my life with someone who shares some of the same interests but still wants a level of independence appeals to me. Not in a "til death do us part" kind of way but in the, we are together when we agree to be together, you know, kind of way. Then we go to our personal spaces regroup come together, literally due to the conjugal, and support each other. I figure if we commit to each other you to me, me to you, then we are good. If you decide, or I decide that we like the topiary in another yard, respectfully we agree to go in different directions. Cut the dog in half, calender up the children and the like. Ha!!

No matter how you go about it when emotions are involved feelings will be hurt and even if it ends well, it's still an ending. My two marriages were two thing that should have never happened. Not because I wasn't in love, wait that first one was karma reminding me she knew my face, the second one? Yes, there was love in the second one!! Any way, I was very clear with both men when we were fucking, I mean dating? That I was very much against public proposals. Long fucking conversations about it, more than a few times. Both of these men proposed to me publicly, which should have been my clue that things would not end well. That simple act was the beginning of not respecting my wishes, my decisions or my feelings. I never said yes out loud to either of the proposals. I just watched as my family and friends "oooed" and "ahhhed" feeling and thinking, "No this motherfucker did not just do this!" But in the end there were dresses and rings and brooms to jump. It was also the beginning of me holding my tongue. In holding my tongue, I also stuffed my emotions and as a result, this woman who has to be reminded to eat on a daily basis went from a size 9 to 26. The day I spoke of my emancipation, it was like my first words and rebirth. A few months later without changing anything except my proximity to my future ex-husband I lost 150 pounds.

I know this doesn't sound like a "Yeah let's all get married" story or other happy shyt but, well there you have it.

I am now a very queer lesbian, and relationships with women are, and I din't think it was possible, more complicated than with men. I have met a few women I could see me spending lots of time with though I don't see me married again. But like I said, I am maturing a little more each day and I am a woman, I can change my mind if I fucking want to!!! I did once have a woman who lived in a closet elude to the possibility of marriage, but I figure if I came out of a closet why would I voluntarily go back into one? It's dark in there and there could be spiders. I think if someone wants to hitch there heart to another, "Until death do them part", no one, no government, should stand in the way of that.

5/30

I am doing that thing again
that hamster on the wheel
when I could be doing other things again
that why do I care more than you thing I do again
a part of me thinks I am preconditioned
pre you before me conditioned
and if you can’t see me
then maybe I am not there
conditioned
it’s not a charmed life
but there you have it
and there is not enough Cuervo
or Corona
to make this less mirage
make it less painful
make it less than the nothing
it was in its inception
and I imagine myself
sometimes sitting shotgun
to this bad ass lesbian
who knows what the fuck she is doing
we pretend not to notice each other
not to see the us in our eyes
every once in a while we slide
our eyes center see
that we resemble each others intentions
notice we own the same name
the same hands with rings
look away before we get too familiar
if you can’t see me
the way I can’t see me with you
I am pretty sure I am not there

4/30

Before and After



sunlight streaming
through my windows
brightly colored trees
feeling strange
awkward
lab specimen
under microscope
murderers and thieves
landscape shift
disappointment pours
waiting to crash
chunks of conversation
heard out of order
hardwood floor
beneath my feet
unanswered questions
stuck in my throat
guilty reflections
in my mirror
distortion of motion
frozen in time
cutting eyes
ironed out expressions
grin misplaced
a smile missing teeth
scars adjusted
darkness has passed
scars adjusted
a smile missing teeth
grin misplaced
ironed out expressions
cutting eyes
frozen in time
distortion of motion
in my mirror
guilty reflections
stuck in my throat
unanswered questions
beneath my feet
hardwood floors
heard out of order
chunks of conversation
waiting to crash
disappointment pours
landscapes shift
murderers and thieves
under microscope
lab specimen
awkward
feeling strange
brightly colored trees
through my window
sunlight steaming

3/30

Salem South (3/30)

When he came home for lunch that day, it was just lunch.
Not an event that would leave seventeen families nomads.
It was just lunch. I am sure he did not mean to leave the skillet

used to fry burger, well done smoldering on burner. It was just
lunch. Not some event that would lead to devastation.
Just lunch. When the stay at home moms and dad saw
the smoke signals, when they broke down the door.

Someone must have panicked.
Someone must have panicked.
Everyone knows you do not throw water on a grease fire.
Everyone knows that, right?

Someone threw water on a grease fire and the
flames crawled up the walls like a rash. Seeking higher

purchase. Seeking attic space full of oxygen. Fire loves
oxygen that is how it learns to breathe out loud. Seventeen
families will lose everything. Sixteen families will loose everything.
The seventeenth family will recover some.

There is nothing more frightening than light bulbs exploding
and firemen demanding that you leave. My brother and I
made twin bed canoe stowed precious belongings inside
rode it down the stairs. Exiting.

It all went up. All went up in flames over lunch.
We sat on canoe bed refuge eating the Jell-O my sister saved.
Watched all we had burn. Watched water rise to levels
that seemed impossible, It was only lunch.

When the Red Cross came they put us in a hotel. We showered.
Could not wash smoke from our skin. Could not wash smoke
from our skin, our hair for weeks. I remembered the story.

The story told by my mother about the phoenix.
How it burst into flames and rose from it’s ashes.
I want to ask her if ashes from a rushed lunch counted.
Wondered if we could rise from the ashes that were now
our life. Wondered if I could ever stomach lunch again.

2/30

Legitimized

The parking lot was well lit.
The passers-by pretended not to see.
My mother’s long hair fist snatched
by unknown father’s rough hands.
There was no foreplay.
No music.
The only sounds were scuffle and scream.
Nothing shut down.
The fear kept everything present.
Had I known I would become the gift of God
in this violent act, I would have chosen not to come.
I came when he did.
Became ward of the state at the exact moment.
A deal struck.
Two parents unknown to me.
This blessing,
curse,
gift from God.

1/30

Background


My only regret is that I let you take her. Let you
sway bend her view of me. I believed she was
bullshyt proof. You proved me wrong. She lacked
the faith in me that I once lacked in myself, so
I understand on a level. I believe what happened
was supposed to happen they way it happened.

Turns out lies have a shelf life. The passion you
showed while damning my name confused the
listeners. They could not tell if you hated me or
wanted to fuck me. I think it was both. Turns out
I have a type. I let you take my type away.
Let you fuck us both over, and not in the fun way.

Turns out regrets wear the same eyes in the light.
She sees me from time to time. Wants to approach
but can’t get past the no resting in my eyes. Your
eyes were so focused on me you couldn’t appreciate
the treasure that you stole.
My only regret is that I let you take her.

National Poetry or Novel Writing Month

I am going to make an honest effort to get through the whole month. I have a lot of stuff this month but I am my own business so I have got to work it!! I will be revising older stuff left neglected too long and sharing some prose as well. I have another story for Cheyenne, but that's my other blog. So, Here. We. Go.

Astigmatism

Astigmatism


I know that we are not born into this life
wearing rose tinted glasses.
We enter twenty- twenty seeing all being all.
So I don’t expect rose colored vision.

I have this ailment.
I seek perfection in every heart I love.
All of the bells and whistles, all the flowers even the thorns.
But, when I see, when I think of you all I see
all I feel are contradictions full of broken glass promises
severed ties and a concussed heart .

I also know that some people are dead
even when they are alive.

I am told I was your favorite.
I believe this is a lie.
Seeing that biology will forever tether us
the distance has not made you grow fonder .
I am angry with you.
You are alive, the man who was supposed to love me
while the man who really loved me is dead.

You couldn’t see the value in us,
in me. Not the way that he did and I can’t see you
in my future. My daddy is dead, while my father,
is very much alive. I don’t fool myself into thinking
that we, that I, ever meant anything to you.
My siblings think me hardened by your rejection.
They think I should just let it go. If I could let it go,
we could all get along. Can we all just get along?

Maybe it’s because their eyes never bared witness,
never saw your cheating layered lies.
Never saw the way you stood justified
when you knew your body still wreaked
of another woman’s scent, as you put
your fist to my mother’s face.
Maybe they don’t remember you
telling our mother that everything she touched
would fail as she held us all in the touch
of her trembling reality. They don’t remember
you labeled us failure. I remember.
I can’t not remember.

Why couldn’t you have been him.
The man who wanted us despite where we sprung .
The man who was not perfect , knew we were not
perfect and called us family anyway. Called us success.
Why is he dead and not you?

Yeah, I am pretty fucking angry.
I am disappointed. I am also my mother’s child,
my fathers mistake and my daddy’s executioner,
there are so many things wrong with this picture.

Times like this, I long for rose tint. Just to see this life
as the gods intended full of life and breath and hope.
I know why I seek perfect love in every heart I love, I
just want to know what it looks like. I just want it to look
me in the face and love me back.

I know that some people are dead even when they are alive.
I will not allow this to make me living dead. I will not allow
this to make me mute magic in a constant state of mourning.
So, I will forgive you. Wash me from all this anger, ensuring
that your prophecy will never come true, because I am not failure.
Thanks to you I am the definition of success!

Like-Like

When she touched me the way she touched me.
I liked it. I told her that I liked it. She told me she knew I would.
I said I’d like-like more, please.
“Like-Like?” her smile repeated, “What’s that?”
So, I untangle myself from herself and I told her
what I am about to tell you.

As it was explained to me by my twelve year old son
there are two kinds of like. There is like and there is like-like.
Like is, “I like you.” Like-like is, “Yeah, I LIKE you.”
He is explaining the phenomenon of “like” to me
because he like-likes a girl at school. He tells me how
pretty she is, how they sat together at lunch
and had a conversation. She is so smart and,
“Mom” he says, “she is so nice. I like-like her.”

My heart swells, crashes partly because he is more like me
than I imagined, and mostly because he is more like me
than he knows. I, like him, am a sucker for a beautiful,
smart girl who eats food and can have a conversation.
I also sweep up the shattered shards of my heart
every time a girl breaks it. My son will have his heart
broken a lot. He is just like his mother.

I want to warn him. Explain what the hopeless
in hopeless romantic really means, but I don’t really
believe that shit. I will not believe that romance,
in love or like-like is hopeless. I love the way his face
breaks open when he talks about sharing ideas
with this girl he like-likes. The way he wants to give her art.
I don’t care that he uses all of my paint. He wants to gives her art.
He is just like his mother. The day he stars penning poems
I will arrange the intervention. He gives her art, and he +art
is his heart and she will break it.

When it happens we will snuggle on the couch,
eat comfort food as we commiserate. I will have ice cream
he will eat those Cheetoes that bear no resemblance
to any color on the wheel. We will hold each other up.
The way he held me up when heartbreak just looked like
mom is sad. He brought me cookies back then, a small bite
taken out of each. Making sure they were good and
would not hurt me.

The day he comes home and tells me the girl refused his gift.
He calls his hard work, his consideration, and his art junk.
He tells me he is stupid and that he thought they were friends.
He wishes he could have known some how that she didn’t
like-like him the way he like-liked her. I ask if I can have his heart.
His art. I tell him I like-like him just fine. I wonder if this will jade him.
Before I can get to lost in that thought he tells me about the girl
who sits next to him in science. “She’s pretty mom and she doesn’t
make girly noises when we do something gross in class.
I like her, not like-like, just like.” he says.
I think, “Son you will like-like her soon, because you are so full of hope.
You are just like your mother.”

After the story my girl, she whispers in my ear
tells me she likes-likes me a giggle on her tongue.
I know she will break my heart, but I have hope.
I am just like my son.

So, when she touches me the way she touches me.
I like it. I tell her I like it. She tells me she knew I would.
I say I’d like-like more, please.

On Holding Your Tongue

On Holding Your Tongue


She thinks she remembers the way the girls hands hovered.
She wanted to know the touch of them. Wanted to feel fingers
massaging her memories back to before she forgot
to pay attention. Bit her lips pretended it was the girls kiss.

Morning on the other side of I miss you is not her happy place.
On those mornings she sleepwalks her way to forgiveness
gets stuck in regret and barely manages to keep her bones
above quicksand. She checks her pockets. Finds her tongue
attempts to re-anchor it so she can finally speak. It’s a bad fit.
Falls to the floor. She can’t remember the last time beauty
made her jaw drop.

The girl with the hovering hands wore an apprehensive smile.
Mona Lisa, but darker. The girl held secrets between her thighs
and sometimes when they shared she knew everything.
She would float sometimes, the girl with hovering hands,
hold clouds between her teeth. She would blow kisses
over her right shoulder. She thinks she remembers catching
those kisses. Placing them in her pocket right next to her tongue
promising to blow them back to the girl once she figured out
how to disguise blood spatter.

She thinks she remembers why things failed. The girl with
the apprehensive smile never knew that she cut out her tongue
so she’d never say anything to drive her away. So the girl,
her hands and her smile mistook silence for disinterest
instead of the adoration it was born to be. She thinks she
remembers trying to speak. No sound came.

Midnight on the other side of I miss you is failing moonlight
and false memories. Those nights she roams an empty house
checking the corners for hovering hands. She collects the dust she finds
sprinkles it on her open wound heart and hopes for concrete. She fumbles
with sewing needles and razor wire trying to stitch back her tongue
so she can finally say what she feels unafraid of letting the blood show.
She thinks she won’t forget this time because she can’t remember

Familiar Territory

I think I know me.
I think I do, but I have thought this before.
I was wrong.
The time before this time, I threw caution to the wind
and learned regret. I don't ever want to repeat that time and yet I do.
Every time I convince myself that I am not enough.
I am doing it again.
When helplessness wears me,
strolls around like she knows me better
I give in. She knows I will. The problem with living this life
is I forget I have feelings sometimes,
forget the impact of punches to
the head the heart.
I believe what others believe
especially when I know it is not true.
I want them to tell me it
is not true.
They never do.
I think,
I want more than this,
I think, but
I have thought this before.
I was wrong.
And I am terrified that I am wrong
again.

4/30

the corners are dirt free
nothing lingers like your smile
hanging in the brances of trees
covering everything in comfort
cleaning is the word of the day
free up some space arms lenght
the moat surrounding full of things with teeth
they bite whatever comes near
hands hearts anything with flesh
clean to the bone even the bones
makeshift mourning tears are not welcomed
night holds close
no detritus can be seen
even when it litters
the corners are dirt free

Smdh

Temporary love called me by name last night. And in the midst of skin clad comfort hands searching for just one more time for old times sakes, an image of you pops into my head. I am doomed!

I am also trying not to love backwards. It would have been a great release, I think. Where is my inner harlot when I need her?

The Flaw

“When unrequited love is the most expensive thing on the menu, sometimes you settle for the daily special.”
― Miranda Kenneally


A piece of a tooth broke loose today. I am reminded that at the moment I have no real health insurance and while distressing, the tooth doesn't have any real pain associated with the loss of the piece. I attribute the ache in my jaw with clenching my teeth and worrying at what is left. I was not meant to have a mouth full of perfect teeth. Maybe if in my youth I'd have taken better care, maybe if with my first pregnancy I had realized how completely the baby takes everything it needs first, maybe if I had stayed in a relationship built in failure, but rot with health benefits maybe then I would have been blessed with pearly whites that flash against the dark of the not so perfect life I would have been privy to. Pretty teeth, but a very awful existence. Not for me. Not for my children.

This is not the first broken tooth I have ever had and I am fairly sure it won't be the last, and teeth are not the only broken things that have laced my life. As humans we all have the luxury of being flawed. Some will attempt to fix those visible flaws, give the appearance of perfection or physical flawless but it's a kind of band-aid. If looked at in the right light the flaw can still be seen. Some flaws are acquired like debt. Like memory. Like regret. My teeth are flawed but it's my heart I worry about.

Is it possible that denying myself love when it was first presented has doomed me to never have it? I don't want to believe that but there are days when the notion slaps at me and well, it gets my attention. I do not believe that I am in love now, but the idea that I could one day be intrigues and terrifies. I am not so much terrified of being in love but I am truly terrified of being rejected. So my usual tactic is to cleverly, I think I'm being cleaver, run from it. Not in a fast paced, heavy breathing kind of way but more a pretend I don't feel and am not bothered, or hurt but responses or lack of response to any expression of interest or affections I offer. A flaw. This has never worked in the past and I don't disillusion myself by thinking it will happen for the twentieth time, it won't, I know this, but still. I am human and to deny that wanting would create yet another flaw and I am all flawed up right now. No need to keep piling them on when I have a stockpile already.


My son, who struggles with my sexuality, has lately taken to asking me if I am happy several times a day when we are together. So my veneer has cracked and I am no longer capable of keeping the lonely out of my eyes. Another flaw. Seems I'm chock full of them these days. I know it is unrealistic to think that the children I have raised will not pick up on my moods, I mean I raised them to feel, not a flaw. The lonely can be taken care of. And who knows in the pursuit of chasing away lonely I might run into a heart that wants to run into my heart. Maybe, maybe not. I haven't tried because I think I know what I want. But I don't have a great track record of getting what I want so maybe the additional flaw is that I really have no idea what I want. So I will assuage my lonely with the soft skin of another who wants nothing from me, which seems appropriate since I don't seem to know what I want for myself.

This feeling of inadequate, I don't consider a flaw. I am human, and humans all over the globe have felt this feeling. I do worry that I'll get stuck here and lose pieces of my heart but unlike the broken tooth, more breaking of my already flawed and broken heart will be pain I can't ignore and no amount of healthcare can fix that. especially since I don't have any healthcare right now.

Poem I found cleaning out my notes on my Ipad written 347 days ago

if you were everything I needed
I wouldn’t be writing this now
I couldn’t be writing this now
I was trying to have a goddamn conversation
with you but it was about art and you don’t do art
and it was about politics but you don’t do politics
and me wanting to take you out on a date do something
other than fuck for a change
and I say theater,
you say movie
I say a play
you say I don’t do plays
and I ask why?

and you say let’s just be close
then you go to rubbing and shit
taking advantage of my sexual adhd
and suddenly we are fucking again
and you are letting me
and I am letting you
and belts are breaking
beds are breaking
and then you are passed out
and I am laid up next to you writing a poem
about how I don’t need to be with you
and the fact that we can’t even talk about this
because this is not the first time I’ve broached the subject
and the distance between us is further than it appears
close enough for fingers to stroke clits
but never close enough to meet in the mind
cause you don’t do that
and I haven’t approached a conversation
with you in the last six months
without a fucking drink in my throat
because it was the only way you made sense
and the distance between us is addiction
we crave the separateness like alcoholics
craving a fifth of whatever's cheapest

you want my touch less than I want to give it to you
and this is how we've stuck ourselves
into an existence neither of us will walk away from
because we don’t know how
even though we know we are not who we used to be
and the best thing about us is bottom beauty and strap-ons
and because I am hopeless romantic and you are lazy
the way we lie,
the way we lie here
it is almost believable
almost

soon there will be nothing left to anchor
us to each other we are going to crash
and burn and drown and I don't imagine
you reaching out or throwing me a life preserver
why would you save me when you couldn't
wouldn't save yourself from me
this shine we've put on this shitty relationship
should shame us both and the fact that I am
in bed with you listening to you snore
writing a poem that you will never read
because you don’t do art
makes me realize how blind we are to the reality
that we actually don't like each other

I love you like a root canal is not sexy
neither is I love you like an exit wound
we are sick in need of a twelve step program
one where we walk away from each other slowly at first
then run like hell and never look back
when you told me you loved me
I was splayed beneath you all moan and cum
I wasn’t even wearing my charm
and I noticed you never loved me with my clothes on

old dog new shyt

I let myself feel again and no good ever comes from that. But I figure if I want someone to love me I should probably take better care of me, and If that's not enough then it's not enough. I have been lonely before and maybe with all the changes I don't have those other things in place in my life for me not to notice the lonely.I'm not dealing with kids, on the road, so I notice. I am looking forward to being away. It hurts when there is no contact and I don't handle that emotion very well. I think people think that I am so self reliant that I don't feel things like lonely or alone. I think honestly if it weren't for the fact that my child is in the house with me, if I died in my sleep it would be weeks before any of my friends, associates, whatever we are calling them these days, called or came by to check on me. That is what hurts the most. No one loves me even remotely like that. My last two relationships didn't love me like that. What does that say about me?

On Marriage

When you spoke of marriage
I didn’t flinch
I wore no frown
I just listened
part of me felt this is just a test
but I listened while you painted fairytale images
of faraway places
a porch with a swing
no neighbors for miles
just you and me

I didn’t interrupt
I never let you see the shadows of doubt
but I wondered how you could dream of marriage
when you live in closets

your love is a secret
best shared in dark rooms
if any one finds out your first line of defense
is to shake keys and lies that rattle like regret
slam shut the door lock
down emotions and pretend
I don’t exist

how can you want to marry someone
you can’t show off on your arms
in your arms
someone you are afraid to kiss
with the lights on
how can you see forever
and close yourself off
from the world at the same time

so when you spoke of marriage
lover
I didn’t flinch
I wore no frown
I just listened
part of me felt this is just a test
how can you speak of marriage
when we both know
there was no room in your closet for two

damn

so, self reflection is probably
not what you want to do
when what you want to do
is pretend it didn't happen
that you aren't your own worst enemy
and your insecurity is baffling
even to yourself so it quite
possibly stumps the rest
punctuation has no place here
because i just keep running and ruining
i had a pep talk with my kid last night
i was so worried i'd do something wrong
that i wouldn't control myself
she told me what not to do
and guess what
i could not control myself
i won't tell them how fucked up i have made things
it's the first time they were happy with my choices
they will hate me for sure when i tell them
so the girl with issues about being alone
fearful of it in fact
has the uncanny skill of pushing people away

i gotta get busy
i gotta get going
i gotta stop hurting the people i love
i gotta stop hurting myself

when exactly do the tears run out
and what the fuck am i going to do with this headache

i wanna smoke, i'm not going to
my new bedroom is so dark
like a little cave
ill stay here until the kids start to worry
then i'll pretend everything is fine

again

i have fucked up for sure. i have never acknowledged a crush til now, and i should never do it again. i am miserable. i have never felt so helpless as i feel right now. and all could have been avoided. should have been avoided. you are friends. just friends. the sooner you acknowledge this the sooner you can stop crying yourself to sleep at night, the sooner you can stop inserting yourself... remember that time when you didn't care. if you could just get back to when you didn't care. then you never cried yourself to sleep, never felt so small. remember that! i know. we worked at being soft, open, and it hurts. can we close ourself off again? then you can just be a friend. people like you better when you are just a friend. i am tired of feeling like i don't know myself. i am tired of being sad. so tired.

For Real?

So after over twenty years of working at Horizons School they are arguing that I should not be eligible for unemployment. I'd like to say I am surprised but I am not. Common respect died there ten years ago. I stayed believing in the program I helped create, thinking that I was doing my part to empower my students. The next step... is an ugly one. The one thing I tried to make sure my students knew without a doubt, was that they have value and they have voices. Let no one devalue you and make your voice loud! I practice what I preach. I think it would be different if I showed up to work drunk. Oh, wait, If I did that I'd still be employed. Or killed a llama. Oh, wait, If I did that I'd be running things. Being let go is not so much my issue, but I do take issue with not doing the right thing.