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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Walk



Today is the first day of the annual Haiku Challenge, hosted by Someone is Special at the blog Few Miles.  It lasts for the month of February. If you like haiku (I know you secretly love it, FB!), please join in!

Day 1 – February 1st – Theme: Freestyle 

Imagined sins scream
He takes to the streets to walk
Nervous, noiseless night

In the Eye














 
"Good Heavens! What do you mean it's UGLY!
Why I do believe it's the most beautiful painting I've ever seen in my life!"

Monday, January 30, 2012

Not Too Subtle

Red Spot II, Wallisy Kandinsky
I want him to notice me
but not to notice, notice me
know what I mean?
just like, notice that I look nice but
not like I'm trying to look nice
so I'm wearing the jeans
(you know the ones?)
that make my butt look nice
and, OH MY GAWD, my hair is a disaster!
I can't believe I let that bitch 
talk me into bangs
it's not even funny but
at least my mom felt sorry for me
and let me get a mani and
it's so cool 
so yeah
I read in Glamour
that brights are in for make-up so
I bought some new stuff if you wanna borrow
and the lip gloss is called like
Cherry Climax or something
and I absolutely love it but
I hope it's not too subtle.

submitted for The Mag, Mag 102

Marked

You say you're wild, boy
but I've broke horses
wilder than you
Soon you'll be eating sugar
outta my hand and
beggin' for more

You say you love the road
but you're gonna love
the sidewalk to my house
and the stairs up to my room
even more
'cause once you're in my bed, boy
you ain't never gonna think of goin'
anywhere else

I am the moon that you sing to
I am the song that you sing
I am the scent on the breeze
that you gotta chase

Even wild things
have their weaknesses
and I know all of yours, boy

You leave my hips bruised
and my lips swollen and aching
But it is you
who have been marked.

photo by Daryl Edelstein

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Fences

photo by Daryl Edelstein

In the neighborhood where I grew up
we all had chain link fences around our yards
to separate them from our neighbors' yards

But whiffle balls and frisbees
don't respect boundaries
and sometimes the fences had to be climbed
to fetch a stray
and return it to the game

Sitting on top of those fences
with my legs swinging in the air
I could see both sides clearly

They say the grass is always greener
on the other side of the fence but
it always looked the same to me.

Friday, January 27, 2012

Kissing the Ceiling

Kissing the Ceiling - Tamar and Noah (2008) by Fred Muram

I have heard of ghosts
who leave stains on the ceilings of houses when
their inhabitants are not looking

Tonight 
I will be the ghost
I will kiss your white tiled ceiling
and leave a blood red lipstick stain 

Come morning
when you open your eyes and
gaze up
I will be watching

Your smile or
your scowl will decide
whether I stay
for breakfast.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

My Interview at the Garden

I'm so excited! I feel like a celebrity! Check out my interview at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. Susie Clevenger aka The Laundry Goddess, was kind enough to consider me interview worthy. Who am I to question her judgment?

The Stars Do Not Decide For Us

source
The stars do not decide for us
They are but flames that burn the night
They do not cast our fate but just
Reflect it back within their light.

Though we may wish upon the stars
The stars do not decide for us
We choose to become what we are
The cure for savage luck is trust.

A shining caracol and thus
Its twists and turns an endless game
The stars do not decide for us
And so our lives are much the same.

While Heaven's reach is far and true
And kneel before her strength we must
What we believe and what we do
The stars do not decide for us.


Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Dreams of Wisteria

by Margaret Bednar at Art Happens 365
The South rose in her blood like a fever
and northern winters were no anodyne
She needed the heat despite herself
She knew this as she knew her name
as she knew the wisteria blooms
kudzu vines
and long, grey fingers of Spanish moss
She dreamed Southern dreams
followed restless ghosts
sat under bottle trees of cobalt glass
and drank sun tea
She stared at her paleness in the mirror
and knew
that once the warm Gulf waters
run through your veins
you can never really leave.

submitted for Poetry Jam, You Can Go Home Again
and Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Photography Challenge for Sunday

Monday, January 23, 2012

Doodle-y Do!

An attempt at non-word art! I've been watching some videos on painting "doodles," and this is my first attempt. If nothing else, I had a blast making it!


Love Bites

From Boris Hoppek's Tokyo exhibit "Ever"
Am I pleasing to the eyes, love?
Is my skin glistening with
the luster of pearl?
Is my flesh fresh and firm?
And my scent
Is it clean and new?
I wish to be flawless, whole
when I offer myself to you, love
Then you will see
what competent and thorough work you do
when you tear me apart.

submitted for The Mag 101

Friday, January 20, 2012

Sweet Imagism

Nana's dresser
cracked white paint with
gilding rubbed thin
glass bottles of Opi stand
like multicolored soldiers
Inside
the smell of old lady lavender
utilitarian beige bra
and underneath, her stash
hundreds of little pink packets
Sweet n Low

submitted for dVerse Poets Pub, Meeting the Bar, Imagism

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Damn These Breaths

underwater sculpture by Jason deCaires Taylor
I will follow you anywhere
I always have
for the sun is warm
only as it reflects in your eyes
and the air fit to breath
only as it blows through your hair
Damn these breaths
I do not want them
I am half alive without you
and waiting on the shores of Acheron
with a mouth of gold
and a ferry schedule
Sweet Eurydice, follow me home
or if not,
I will be content 
to stay forever with you
and I will never
look back.

submitted for The Mag, Mag 100

Hearteater

Love Itself by Tracey Mac
Young hearts you love to collect
Consume them and leave them wrecked
And you have not one regret
Is your own heart content yet?

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Dreams of Earth and Heaven

image source
When ink stained twilight descends
I search for you, my divine succubus
Black lace angel
Guardian of my secrets
Wrap me tight in your raven feathers
that I wear the veins in your wings
like those of my own skin
We will fly later
Now is the time
for earthbound delights
The night is dying
and the moon fades in the sky
like milk into morning coffee
Before you leave
Please lay a feather
silken and jet
upon my pillow
and I promise to dream
of heaven.

submitted for dVerse Poets Pub, Open Link Night, Week 27

Choices

License plate on the car ahead reads
"It's a child, not a choice"
And I wonder
Has it really been 38 years since
I was granted the right to
my own body?
And I wonder
why I have to look
over my shoulder
in my rear view mirror
to see who's trailing me
to the clinic
And I wonder
why I have to dodge pamphlets
pushed on me like politician's handshakes
and curses thrown like middle school spitballs
We all make our choices

You say you choose life
so why do you paste a scarlet A
on the doctor's chest like a target
for the snipers to gun him down?
We all make our choices
is what you say
So what do you say
to the man who chooses to rape his daughter?
to the mother who chooses to pretend not to see?
what do you say
to the girl
a child herself
with shame and confusion growing inside her
like a cancer?
Do you choose to call her murderer?
Damn her to hell?
We all make our choices

And what of the child
whose mama chooses
not to feed him today?
Who wears last week's clothes
reeking of urine and
steals money at school?
Does he choose this life?
You cry over the lost tadpoles but
look the other way when the frogs die
in their formaldehyde ponds
another one pinned on the dissection tray
just another day
Go ahead
Slap a bumper sticker on your car
We all make our choices.

submitted for Poets United, Thursday Think Tank, Choices

Monday, January 16, 2012

My Pet Zombie

Although I have no idea what it is supposed to represent, I humbly accepted this Zombie Rabbit Award from Brent Wescott at Building Castles on the Beach.  Do check out Brent's blog. You will find a lively mix of  "stuff about fatherhood, teacherhood, musichood, writerhood, and other kinds of hood." You never know what the day's post may happen to be about, but you can be assured that it will be thought provoking, insightful, intelligent, and well-written. Thank you, Brent.


 In the spirit of Rabbit Zombiehood, I'd like to pass this award on to a few of my favorite blogs:
  • darev2005 at Attitude and Pepper Spray who can somehow make working in a prison extremely entertaining
  • Bryan M. White at Fabulous Atypical Ramblings of Nuclear Cheese, a group blog filled with utter nonsense, serious philosophical ponderings, crude jokes, silly photos, and just about anything else you can think of
  • Fireblossom at Shay's Word Garden who writes the most breathtakingly awesome poetry you'll ever read. She should be famous.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Sunday, January 8, 2012

The Edge

The Lonely Cry by Ken Simm
I live on the edge
between reality and dreams
Walking the balance beam
here to there
there to here
Where paradigms slam and crash
like hot and cold
into a storm of thoughts
I inhabit the borders
between in and out
Do not try to follow me
for even if you find me
I will remain
solitary.

Friday, January 6, 2012

I, Mouse

Angry Mouse on the Phone by dl norton
Don't underestimate me
I may look unassuming
which is why you
will assume that I
am meek and mild
That
is a mistake
I may be quiet
but I am stealthy
You may not even notice me
watching
waiting
I keep my secrets
to myself
I can subsist on
crumbs
I am stubborn
persistent
I will destroy your house
piece by piece
I will disrupt your sleep
scritch by scritch
I will steal your food
and your sanity
By the time you catch me
there will be dozens more
to take my place
Don't underestimate me.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Deadly Games

Lady of midnight
A flick of your jet lashes
and they come running
Black patent vamp
What do you promise
behind your ivory gauze curtain?
Long lithe legs
obsidian silk stockings tied
in lover's knots
around their bodies
Lost in ecstasy
they look up and catch
a quick glance
Crimson lipsticked smile
hungry blood red tongue
But I know who you really are
I've seen your scarlet mark
Your time is up
You may be a ravenous beauty
 but I'm one deadly bitch.
photo of black widow spider (now deceased) in our basement

submitted for Poetry Jam, Color Your Life

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Down To the River

 River, Marina Moevs, 2005

You can give your sins to Jesus
You can wash them in the river
You can throw them in the ocean
But don't bring them to me

You can tell it on the mountain
You can tell in confession
You can tell it to a five buck whore
But I don't wanna hear it any more

Jesus may have died for your sins
but I'm not breakin' another nail
God may be callin' you home
but I'm lockin' the doors.

submitted for The Mag, Magpie Tales 98
      


Monday, January 2, 2012

Just Drive

How can you be so close
yet seem so far away?
When did you stop listening to
the things I try to say?
You say that you still love me and
I want to think it's true
But do you know me any more
and do I know you?

The longer silence lingers
harder to utter the words
But why say anything
when you're not heard?
And so another night
with words unspoken, thoughts unsaid
Starting to get numb now
to the hurt

How is it two people
who'd complete each other's thoughts
Now can't look each other in the eyes?
And why is it that even though
you say that I was right
I end up being the one who
always cries?

Where did we veer off the road?
Why didn't we see the curve?
Stupid thinking that we had arrived
Now we're stumbing
in the dark
Trying to find our way
Are we just too broken now
to drive?

for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Open Link Monday