Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Slave


It’s nearly impossible
For me to hate you;
I love you,
But I need to turn away.

Every thought of you haunts me,
It’s like you own me
Even though you’re not here.
Let me
Break away…

I need to crawl myself
Out of the hole
In which I’m caged.
Love shouldn’t bind me in
Like a grave…
Let me slip away, slip away

Bury me in your love,
Let my heart be your slave
I’ll crawl on the ground for you
Become ashes again.

I’ll be your Cleopatra
Play queen of hearts;
But you’re the only one
Who’s my second after Caesar.

It’s nearly impossible.
I need to turn away.
Let me break from this cage,
I’m forever your slave.

Smile


Cigarette lights up,
You lay on down,
Peak up from underneath that hat of yours,
And flash me a smile.

You make my stomach do somersaults
Every time you look at me;
You make my heart jump into my mouth,
Every time I hear you say my name.

Hey don’t you know,
That every time you grab my hand
And lead me to the next step
All the negativity disappears in a puff of smoke.

So take my hand,
Lead me on,
Into the next room.

Let me crawl,
In your bed
Lay next to you.

Light up and tell me how you feel about me
Give me a kiss
Let me feel the flames on your lips
And make me smile.

Smile
Smile
Smile…
You make me smile every time.

Monday, May 30, 2011

Not Broken


I may be bruised
But I’m not broken;
I may be sore
But I’m still moving.

Chorus:
I don’t need you,
I am strong and independent.
I’m no ordinary woman
I can make it on my own.

Break my heart,
Leave me for rotten.
Leave me stranded,
On the side of the road.

Chorus

Some tears may fall
But I can glue myself together
Life and love aren’t easy
The truth is unknown.

Chorus

I can make it on my own.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Saved By A Fire


She brushes her little boy’s hair
From his eyes, as she watches
The fire truck pulling away—
Its whistle tooting down
The street.

Mama buries her head
In the bundle she holds
In her arms. He is now
Falling asleep; little snores
Help her heart keep pace.

She knows the fire wasn’t
A mistake, just a means to
Escape. She didn’t
Want her baby
To grow older
And notice the red fingers
That didn’t disappear from her skin.

Outside, in this night
Where the snow puddles
And the brown grass with
Green roots peek through—
She waits for the Chief
of the town police
To come speak.

The house is just a frame
Waiting to mold over with
Moss, like the graves around
The block, broken and un-kept.
She can see where the only bedroom
Used to be; all that’s standing
Is the charred crib pieces left of the man
Who blackened her past.  And outside the
Door, was a ripped fluffy arm,
Damp from the hoses’ blast.

In The Stacks


I plug my purple plugs in,
Press play.  Garland starts to sing
About the clanging trolley and the man next door;
Or Abel will start reverberating in my ear,
About his girl’s new tattoo:
Telling him to lookie there, causing sex to ensue. 
I go in my zone as I start pushing my truck—
I want to be a song;
I’m almost there. 

The codes that I read
Blur into the scenes in my mind.
I dream more now while I am on my feet,
Than when I rest my tired head.
The novels I put away on the shelves I’ve dusted
The day before, are full of people I’ve met
Or the memories I chase.

I push a row to the right, as I push
My needs and wants to the side.
Most of the thoughts that pass through
Slowly, are the important ones that
Create my story.  Take a pen
Black ink to cover my skin—
The felt tip dances and mingles with my freckles
To become what I
Embroider in others’ hearts.

This is the way that I speak,
And the way I can sort through
What I think; in the quiet seclusion
Of the library where I work.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Goodbye to Artemis

As he forgot the other girls,
Brandon smiled hard;
Mists of breath froze in the air
While the black bees bobbing and buzzing
Around their heads.  Reaching out
He grabbed her by her waist. 
They were one single being
With four legs: a pair of wood and leather heels
Knocking against a pair of steel-toed boots;
She stumbled into him—their footsteps
Crunching foliage rotting in the forest’s home. 
She laughed when he hooked his fingers
In the white lace peeking outside her jeans.
Her loose hair blew wildly
In a twilight breeze, as she pushed her body
Up against him, his back pressed to the
Dying branches.  A moan escaped
From deep within both diaphragms; he couldn’t resist
This virgin’s urge.  Let her kiss him with such
Passion, this woman who was no longer
Tepid and full of fear; staring at her breasts,
He leaned down to bite—his mouth hot
Against the coolness of her supple chest. 
Their breathing quickened and he thought “fuck the
Rest,” he wanted this nymph who was full of
Lust and desire.  She had him enticed the
Moment he saw her sitting in the back
Of his best friend’s truck; a shitty weekend
Turned to one of flirtations, hanging
Out at the river bed.  All he wanted
From that first time he heard the sound of her
Screaming in giggles was to get her in
His bedroom; yet instead, here they were in
The backwoods of the backdrop of the fast
Cityscape, her hand upon him, ready
To throw her remaining chastity to
Aphrodite as a present for change. 
Tonight the sweet said goodbye to naked
Artemis, with more pleasure than a light
Kiss brushing against his cheek and the new
Silence of the two souls exchanging a
Secret.  As their breath danced in their ribs, her
Ghostly limbs wrapped around his, and they fell
Asleep until Eos was to paint the hill
And the moon had taken her leave.

Break


The life that breaks apart
Is the one without solid walls;
Build me up, piece by cemented piece.
Blood fills the cracks—
Veins of my mothers.

The life that breaks apart
Is the one where all walk out;
The windows are shut and no one gets in.
Those that matter, the one’s who care
They will travel the gravel stair.

Make a life that can crumble
So you can explore—
But keep your feet, on the rooted floor.

Awaiting the Day That Church Bells Ring


We lay beside each other,
In a bed of spiky grass—
I expect the unevenness of the ground up in the hills,
But not here in the valley.
Sitting up, I turn to look at you
Your worn fedora is tilting over your eyes
Obscuring your glasses.

You look like you are asleep
With the way the shadows cover your face
But I can see you watch my every move
Though your lashes and they twitch as
Your gaze follows me.
You rest your hand upon my knee
As I sit up and lean back with my weight on my arms,
And my hair swings over my shoulders
While I think.

When we save enough money,
When I am done with learning
What I need to in order to obtain my degree,
And you’re done dealing
The drugs and smoking the THC.
I can’t wait for when the new beginning
Comes and the summers are done ticking
Down the days until the church bells sing.

I want my father to walk me down the aisle,
A simple ceremony,
White dress,
Few guests—
Short and sweet.
You’re not the doctor he wanted me with,
But the artist that fulfills my every dream.

I reach over
To tip your hat back,
And you peek up through the glaring sun;
Crooked smile cracking
As I caress the scarred cheek.
No glitter on my finger
Just promises that I know you will never break.
I know I have made the right choice.

Getting Through


I go to sleep each night,
Because it feels good to escape
In the warmth of my bed.
Cotton blankets become the shields
That try to shut out the bad—
A dream catcher hangs over my head
To catch the things that haunt my dreams.
I sleep and dream to maintain some faith,
Because yes, the dawn brings reality
But there is silver in the lining.

Comments


Comments are like
Darts to the heart,
Arrows that always leave a mark.

People don’t mean
To tear me down,
But they do.

Their words are jokes,
Or harmless truths—
So they believe.
They’re not.

Words from others hurt,
Create a slew of negativity,
Racing through my head.

I hate myself,
The comments people say,
Become facts in my mind.

Insecurity equals weakness,
People line up and shoot at
This target, which I am—
Covered with darkness and red.

Frustration


The world outside,
And all around—
The people in it
Bury me into the ground.

Their stupid comments,
Endless ignorance,
To what people feel—
How it affects me.

I’m frustrated—
With the words,
The negativity,
The pessimistic insecurities,
My feeling alone.

I wish that I could
Just break out of this box,
That I have been
Tied and gagged in.

Frustrated with this world.
Frustrated with mankind.
Frustrated with myself.

The frustration leaves a hole,
Carving me into ragged rags.

The only things
Keeping me strong—
Are the few friends and family,
The scraps of faith,
And pockets of hope.

Frustration,
Can break a person,
So I will do my best to
Thrust it away from me by
Trying to think with rationality.

One Confrontation


“You two need
To get back together.”
Why?
Honest-to-God-Truth:

“You’re not that attractive.”
Slowly the new stitches
Are snipped open.

“And he’s probably the
Only guy
That’ll date you;
Date you while
You’re in school.”
The final blow.

Depression sinks in,
Everybody sees—
Something’s wrong with me.

I will not utter,
No, not a sound—
They don’t need to know
What is inside this empty shell.

Two sores were found,
With just a few sentences,
Lying within this one confrontation.

A Caged Battle


Frustrated,
I go through each day.
Smile on my face
War in my heart.

Anger and resentment
Burn through these veins.

Something I despise,
Something I hate
Happens in a blink of an eye.

Fine one moment,
Shouting the next.
Fumes of misunderstanding
Billow out and string me up.

Keeping it together,
Tops all else,
The figure,
The mask of composure
All happy little lies
That allow all other people
To continue this dance.

I am in a cage,
Steel bars block my way.
My hands grip the metal
They turn ghost white.

I am in my own battle,
The weight is my own—
I serve undeserving lashes
With the flick of my word.

I want to run from the field,
But the enemy follows
I am my shadow
Lost between worlds.

A Medieval Dance


Dancing in a golden field,
Tan stalks sway to and fro as a frame.
Musicians play waltzing melodies,
A medieval ball outside of halls.

Gowns that trail along,
Colors dark and bright.
Modern day tuxes all in black.

The swishing of the dresses,
The pleasant chatter—
Mixes with song:
Violins . . .
Clarinets . . .
Soft singing . . .
All a peaceful harmony.

The coming of night air,
Whispers in the twilight,
With the red sun sinking down
And the silver moon rising.

Colors swirl around me,
My partner murmurs in my ear,
Hot breath blowing on my pale neck.

My eyes catch a glimpse of a figure,
Standing in the lone barren tree
In the centre of the crowd,
Luring me closer with his stare.

We swirl and circle,
Closer and closer—
My eyes never moving from
The shadow amongst the dying kindling
High above me.

I see nothing but what is there,
None of my surrounding,
Nor the sky,
Are in my sight.

We gravitate towards
The rough brown tower,
The dark man draws me closer,
With his gaze.

Red drops drip, drip
In crimson tears
From the boughs.

Blood rains on me softly,
Ruby stains on my skin.
My body shudders,
And I awaken again.

Be With You


Wanting to spend time with you,
We haven’t for a while,
And that is all I want right now,
All I have been wanting for weeks.

Finally I get a chance,
And all I can do is torture you,
Because nature will let me do nothing else.

Finally I get a chance,
And I can barely do anything because I have a godforsaken meeting.
My parents call and say I have to go,
But I don’t want to,
I finally have you.

You taunt me,
Paybacks a horrible game,
Please,
Why can’t I stay?

All I can do is think about you,
You and me,
Us.

The cards are being dealt against us,
I’m sick of playing,
I want the prize,
The winners’ trophy . . .
I just want you.

Bitterness


Butterflies and ribbons
Purples and pinks
Cold glass
Sealed tight.

Pictures and memories
Are pieces torn.
Marbles line
The bedroom floor.

Salty tears
Fall upon the discolored wood

A drenched phone,
Makes a call
Screams and ragged breath
Echo across.

Letters written
In a flurry
Go zipping through space.

My sister in a hurry,
Throws things in a bag:
Pick-me-up chocolate,
And girly treats.

These things happen,
Bitterness is bittersweet.

Hopes


Dreams are a source of strength,
A weakness
String of hope- reaching out for things
Beyond the now of reality.

Don’t let those reveries
Just fall to the ground
Like wasteful trash.

These hopes,
Bits of pixie dust,
Swirl around your head for a reason
Don’t let them go,
They’re not wishing to crumble.

If you’re not asking to be like
Sandcastles along the turf
After the high tide sweeps on it,
Then hold on tight
Few wish for what remnants of hope there may yet be,
To be swept back into the sea.

I Am From...


I am from collections of teapots and saucers
Knick-knacks and pictures a plenty.
Iraqi prayer rugs and ugly green carpeting.

I am from falling down white siding,
A huge red and grey block barn adorned with a vast window
70 acres of land- three fields and one large pasture.
Nature is everywhere.

I am from music in the summer air,
The Stix is our definition.
Across the way, nosy neighbors that act like they are superior,
            When father is away
Next to the fence, an old school house made anew,
            A friend residing of now 7 years.

I am from the youngest of 15, the youngest of 6
I being the youngest of four split.
Two nieces, one nephew.
Grandparents no longer.

I am from “playing it by ear”
Embarrassing “howdy’s” now and then to strangers
And meowing as “she has a little shadow, that follows her around . . .”

I am from freezers stocked with pork and beef.
Toasted sandwiches and bowls of ice cream,
The happy occurrence of strawberry rhubarb pie
And beer showers at parties.

I am from storage boxes in a loft up high,
Suitcase and footlocker locked tight.
Albums and Christmas tapes stashed away
And papers, letters organized in their own way.

I am from vast, peaceful country space
The idea of anything else
In comparison
Is stifling.

Image


Dressed up,
Be refined
Keep it together
Be the image people wish to see.

White,
The color of innocence
Purity
Goodness.

Black,
Hides the faults
When left low-key.

Things need to be simple,
Because simple you are.

An image to uphold,
The one as good as gold.
No shame allowed
To the family honor.
If there be such a thing.

Be the classy,
Of middle class
Daughter of a believer, speaker
Social keeper.

Images,
What people want,
And wish to see
We must fulfill it
Among this democracy.

If one is good and great,
Straight and true,
We are forced
To follow suit.

So we hold our heads high,
Lower our eyes,
Keep our opinions to ourselves,
Answer yes when we have to,
When all else is no.

One Moment


Stop me,
As I am leaving.

Halt me,
As I try to move.

You are here and there,
You are always everywhere.

I feel so confined lately,
Can’t breathe,
No dreams,
And near to you
My heart stops beating.

Now you say
That maybe it was a mistake
Lean up on in
Catch me with your lips.

All around
Is frozen
Only you and me
In this one moment.

Prison


School is a prison,
A students hell.

They put us in rooms
Crowded and small.
We feel chained to the desks,
So cold and hard.

Rooms like jail cells,
Tiny and cramped.
A few lack doors
That lead to the hall.
And what windows
There may be,
They might as well add the bars
For all to see.

The warden comes,
With his stick hitting the walls.
An incessant noise
Like the screech of the chalk.

Homework is the ball,
Attached to our feet
Causing us to slug along,
To meet our prosecutors at the end of the halls.

Raggedy Ann


I am five again
Small in all my limbs.

I am a doll,
Porcelain doll,
Though soft and small.

One large hug,
From this big bum.

He is so massively large,
My own barge.

Lift me up,
No need to jump.

Swing me around,
My feet off the ground.

Raggedy Ann,
That, I am.

Sleep, Dream


Sleep
Calls to me,
The dreams of the inner mind.

No one can tell me what to dream,
No one can tell me to close my eyes—
            They are already.
No one can tell me what I may see and hear,
There’s something different practically everywhere.

Lay me to sleep,
With my head on my pillow,
Soft blankets around me,
            Wrapping me tightly.

Sleep.
Dream.
Sleep, dream.
Dream.
Sleep.

I would love to float away,
Have whatever happens, happen.
Be free,
And dream while I sleep.
 

Stevie B's

Step in from the hot, humid, southern air
A cool, relaxed and contented atmosphere greets me.
By the door, is a sign,
Children under ten, can eat for free.

Six of us stroll in;
It’s been a long, hot day – we’re starving
There’s no better place,
When six stomachs are arguing,
Than buffet.

Cheaper than New York restaurants,
Only four sit per table,
Allowing freedom of movement.

The sitting area is decorated
In shades of red and brown.
All of the booths are open – no cramping to be found.

With back of seats so high,
So tall,
We stand on our knees to converse with people
In front and back.

There is no need to fret
To bump, bump into someone else’s table –
All tables are neatly spaced
Inconveniences as such, avoided.

Long metal counter, with the food spread out
Steel covered with almost every kind of
Pizza imaginable in line.

The smell rises gratifying;
The brain shuts off and the stomach takes over.
Crispy, and soft, fresh crust aromas
Fill the air,
Inviting us to take our plates.

Overflowing plates are filled,
But still the guarantee stands we’ll be running for more!

A large range of pizza:
Baked potato, nicely golden and loaded with carbs;
BLT covered with crisp, crunchy bacon and lettuce and tomatoes – fresh.
Yes, yes for the average Joe,
There are still normal pizzas of pepperoni and cheese
At the customer’s request, all they have to do is ask the chef
And whatever they would like is created.

Waiters walk around, trays in hand
Asking if we’d like to try a slice of some new dish,
Tempting, tempting – someone’s bound to say yes.

Near the end, when our bellies get full,
A large arcade is in the back –
Anyone can go when they are done and have some amusement
With a photo booth back there
A picture may be taken and printed out in a gazillion tiny stickers.
Who wouldn’t want a souvenir from this world of pizza?

Fun, fantastic.
Delicious delights.
Stevie B’s is brilliant for family, friends and me.

Up The Hill


Cookies crumble,
Boy tumbles.
Crown’s broken,
Frogs croakin’.

Tin pails,
Roll down past bales,
Bales of hay,
Down into a lake that’s gray.

Girl goes running,
She’s stumbling
Tripping over her feet,
A small blonde streak.

Two stupid children bawlin’,
Big men hawlin’
These clumsy lumps
Back to the dumps.

In one bed,
They lay like lead.
Jay’s in coma,
And Chelsy stares with her eyes wide open.

Up the hill,
Like Jack and Jill.
Karma isn’t the best,
When failing that test.

Haikus2


The night sky shines bright
Stars are twinkling and dancing
Lanterns in the dark.

The fairies are the
Watchers of the dark who fix
The five-pointed dots.

Windows to heaven
Small seeds of the universe
On a black curtain.

Glitter that is spilled
Forever across the gods’
Vast dark carpeting.

This cloudless night globe
Encircling this large dull world
Yellow spots up there.

Haikus1


His eyes like liquid
Gold stare into mine
I cannot breathe now.

A cemented grip
Locks me in, when I try to
Cross his neat boundaries.

Rusty hair and cold
Hands are a blur in his
Swift movement at night.

Cotton candy lips
Brush up-down, on marbled skin
Shivers take my sense.

With a body like
Rock hard stone, he molds to mine
Soft humanity.