we listen to agent orange when were pissed leave us alone don’t come in to the room our eyes are bloodshot with rage and shrooms it comes like a wave of lava and we thrash the place cut our arms on broken bottles there they are behind in the closet leave us alone if you know what’s good for you why do you tell us what to do when you back stab your neighbors and talk about fools we demand to go back to mutti’s we don’t give a fuck what your judge says hey asshole we’re just a kid not your self-righteous toilet paper wad to wipe your evil ass with we listen to agent orange when were pissed and the neighbor called the fire department cus the front windows shattered on account of the sonic geetar’ licks and surfer grooves oh we forgot to mention the baseball bat from out in the patio and your girlfriend’s mirrors are shattered into as many bits as apologies you owe to me fuck yeah we’re still pissed and we will always scream as long as you won’t hear me
Author: mbrazfieldm
baseless essence
mirrors slates to the eyes
cold blood hot cries
in the forests of wires
camping for leisure
in soul of one who
was once a beauty
now the dump
they along with the trash
typhus and the brass pipes
in the underground
akin to the bony
once strong legs
of our fathers
stones from her river
are epoxy sold in bags
at the mostly made in China
flower and craft shops
we and they still people
we are flesh
twenty nine doors down
we also have botulism
to soothe the angst
of those whose spirits
have been mislead
to look inside the slate
and not see
the true worth of their inner glow
the four letter kit
mind your etiquette and dress you tarty mess alcoholic in wedding veil left to rot in obscurity behind SS Kress dumpster fiendish queen of violent dream three tours in the cardiac desert come home we’ve no passion for your kind that’s ok i take what i can get karma super bitch with pretty face we get what we deserve my mind is just a wasteland one step two step five step six look down at the sky while the air hits my feet swirling up blood drops on the cuff rational decisions are best served late into the night the bats are hiding near in the tall and ancient magnolia trees with falling fruits into the stream of all thought that crosses here insanity wears lace and stirs that flames of cold remorse of atomic fences way up on the hill hashtags for all reasons but what’s the use if we all like to market pain for glamour and enrichment and my teeth go down the drain
atheist riot
warm Sunday
City Hall lawn
young people
bright yellow
biker shorts
we too
sit there
moving slowly
watching smiling
at the
busy gnats
we drank
sour beer
sharing one
warm can
that took
three hours
to buy
our sisters
a yard
away talking
and pouting
smacking lips
laying out
their tired
patchwork skirts
they twirl
bottle cap
rosaries between
their stained
fingers etched
with cuts
and cracks
the brothers
coming out
of trance
acknowledge that
nothing here
will change
too many
men on
the job
too many
brains and
greedy wallets
planning our
fate and
we all
look up
at the
trumpeting birds
and we
rise in
arthritic waves
even though
were under
thirty one
and in
a hallelujah
arm stretch
above our
messy heads
our sisters
break out
in harmony
as their
washed out
bone bleached
bracelets jangle
snapping fingers
send a
thanks to
the heavens
the brothers
do a
little dance
and onlookers
stop to
stare with
smirking eyes
and jaded
quips against
the humble
family on
the lawn
who can
only address
God outside
of hypocritical
sanctimonious walls
why the night sleeps
we’re home now let me help you with your tux
you looked so handsome tall dark sultry and mysterious
your eyes the color of the deepest wines
the coolness of your breath on my face
as i danced for you in our secret field
you showed me your daughters
the stars and their cousin moon
and in your arms i fell unto the cool wet grass
and i confessed my fondest wishes
and then we both kissed while greeting the sun
who came with her lover
i remember the sun and i giggling
it must have been about how tired you looked
sleep well my love on
while i go clean your suit
and polish your shoes
so we can go dancing
all over again
cicatrix
it’s best if we sigh now
oh life for all of my days
you still haunt me
you just a state of neurological being
but you life you have gotten in my blood
no other place is better
i was conceived old
my thoughts Gemini to Don Quixote
and in times of desperation
i’ve gone blindly into battle too
just a shit head little cunt
from the city of LA
but fuck, fuck i say
you and i sister tough old bitch
we still stand
on the corners and the roofs
we too sit in the high life cafes
and the rat infested flop house bars
to tell old drunk sailors but not of Navy type
of how we got our scars
rape intoxication politics aggravation
education isolation insanity warm sun shine
loneliness love devotion twisted words
beatings in the dark making love on the sand
injecting poisons til the boils could hold no more
rode in the ambulances
mourning flat-lined blue lipped boys
ah life i am yours and no one else’s
when sitting by the ponds the koi fish
bubble up asking for my orange cheese crackers
every so often i can shed a few tears
when the coroner loads one of us into their van
never knowing who they were
but knowing that they’ll go to heaven
but my favorite scar by my cupids bow
when my face got smashed on the garage asphalt floor
so many fears and rage at the same time
and the pictures of my mother
lost on my travels with no paradigms
the scars in my heart
i keep those inside
some demons are best left
to the annals of the mind
now my friend lover spouse and enemy
we’ve walked down the path
that’s led us close to the horizon
of twilight and as much as i want to lay down to rest
and ponder your meaning and flick ashes on the floor
i realize that i’ve been just another story
at times screaming off my head
another woman scarred
by the significance
of nothing in your eyes
Hands
thanks Len awesome as always this offering totally beats mine hands down! thank you for sharing, friend!
https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2019/10/17/reenas-exploration-challenge-109/
With an additional shout out to mbrazfieldm at words less spoken for her inspired post at
https://wordslessspoken781842219.blog/2019/10/19/hand/
We are all connected.
Hands are servants of the mind. The mind commands and the hands obey, because the mind by itself can do nothing in the world. It sits in its ivory tower and schemes but cannot create or destroy without its trusted servants.
He held the world in his hands, spinning the globe, eyeing the curve of a country before placing the globe back on his desk. A whole world out there and he was stuck here teaching Latin to ignorant brats who had no interest in the subject. He sighed, glanced at his watch and exited his study to stroll down to the first form classroom.
“Higgins why is this page full of ink blots. It’s just not acceptable. You will take…
View original post 573 more words
Thetis’ ascension
the soul of water
is smoke as she rises to
heaven’s lobby door
hey Mrs. Butterfly
hey Mrs. Butterfly
i want to just say
that in all of my years
i’ve known of you
and the fire flies
lady bugs bumble bees
june bugs dragon flies
and most of God’s
perfect creations
when not hyper vigilanting
over my folks or the predators
my mind would drift away with you
the colors and the hues
the mechanisms made of truth
your wings and curly tongues
and the symbols afforded to you
from people who came before me
and the Egyptians how they loved
the beetle called the scarab
something to do with Khepri
and the rising sun
i believe it
i always have
i know i’ve let your beauty
and your meaning
float from my hands
but i want to say
that i’m ashamed
that i don’t know how
to describe you
my thoughts and my words
cold hollow and crude
those that have been prescribed
to me during my days of rebellion
in my eyes and in my memories
i can only describe the violets
on the hill as like the colors
of the bruising in the midnights
or the red of carnations
as the blood from my lips
for refusing to give in
or the grace in the flutter
of you the butterfly
in complete and utter silence
but before you send well wishes
and praises
i want to tell you
i’ve been no angel
i deeply hurt and failed to protect
the one who i should’ve loved first
but look it here
daisies and trees cacti
and geese all of the colors
in the rainbow high
and the moon and the stars
and Venus and Mars
i dig you man
and i’ve haven’t lost sight
that universe and the life in it
has always been beautiful in my eyes
even if the magazines
don’t think so
i know that i’m right
Mrs. Butterfly
i hope you can find it
in your perfect heart
to forgive me
for not being able
to knit you the
words that are worthy
of praise to your merit
Nominated for Mystery Bloggers Award
thank you Kritika! at undressedthoughts.com
da roolz
1. The award logo/image should be on your blog.
2. Rules should be listed
3. Be thankful to the one who nominated you and do add the link to their blog
4. Answer five questions asked by the person nominating you
5. Tell your readers three things about yourself
6. Notify the nominees on through comments on their blog
7. Ask five questions, of your choice, to your nominees. One of which should be funny or weird.
8. Share a link to your best post
q an a for Kritika
1. Has your blog transformed your life?
i think that it has i get to share some thoughts with folks who might send me advice or who just get it i love to read work that speaks to me as well and know that i’m not alone even if it’s just cyber space
2. What are your hobbies? Is blogging one of them?
i guess blogging is a hobbie but really its more therapeutic i like to read and just let my mind wander its difficult and exhausting some days
3. Are you attracted towards balloons still?
balloons scare me seriously i will hyper ventilate and pass out PTSD bad
4. Writing on blog, do you take it as an obligation?
not at all i love writing i need it in my life
5. Have you ever written a funny post on blog?
i have some funny pieces i think like the price of peanut butter and charm school drop out i’m really funny and witty in person if i have to write something down and think it through it doesn’t work for me i think
https://wordslessspoken781842219.blog/2019/09/16/horse-of-another-color
i love animals
i believe in a higher power
i’m beginning to like myself
q and a for nominees
- what is your favorite James Bond movie?
- what is your favorite historical time period?
- Whitman or Beckwith?
- what’s your favorite diet?
- invent a knock-knock joke…
words less spoken nominates
meltingneurons To Ink – a blog from Melting Neurons
Jen Goldie Jen Goldie – A little this, a little that, some real and some imaginings
Through Violet’s Lentz https://violetslentz.home.blog/
Len’s Daily https://lensdiary.blog/
Harley Unhinged https://lunatikenigma.wordpress.com/
happy Sunday every one xoxo
