the crying game

July 25, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 16 Comments

i guess i have to go now

it was a pleasure meeting you if

only through letters and gigabytes

warm eyes warm smile and so much gratitude

i would have been honored to call you mother

Poetess you were a friend in spirit

you go join your loved ones and rest

write along the angels can you hear

the music of the celestial orbs

when i close my eyes shut tight

on a high rise rooftop in the fancy

part of my city i can hear it

and i dream of holding Shakespeare’s quill

perhaps Helene you can get his autograph for me

and send it on the feather of a swan

i guess i have to go now

and as you soar through the beautiful skies

you will now know all mystery

beautiful artist sweet kind friend

you leave us here where life is sometimes a game

we laugh or we cry but we are just human

be it not for souls full of light like you

who’ve touched my heart

one could say life would be intolerable

Thanatos

July 24, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 11 Comments

the gray shadows tiptoe and sob just outside my mind

whole of a part

July 23, 2019February 2, 2020 / mbrazfieldm / 3 Comments

the rain has stopped and the sidewalks smell like dog piss and dying roses but i like the fragrance of my clove cigarette the stop lights change every two minutes nothing strange i can’t place my emotions today i feel pressured to rub elbows with the crowd across the street but i can’t i don’t feel well my body pains me and i want to cry taking a few steps away from the Tropical i breath in deep a few yards away is a pile of rubbish the bright colors make it look magical and comforting looking at the clock across the street it’s time for group and terror grips me around my ankles and chest again again again my head fills up inside with doubt and shame like a sinking vessel i try to be brave my hands shake and i grind my teeth nostrils flare and i anger myself enough to rip my feet out of their coma and move walking up the stairs i want to vomit but i trudge on through asphyxiating terror and tears welling up in my eyes i give up and i walk back down i run for a while and stop under the bridge and the rain begins and the sidewalks smell like earth and the stray dogs smell my fear and alert their masters they look on and drink from a bottle i plop on the curb and cry again confused and in pain

flagelación cerebral

July 23, 2019July 22, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 13 Comments

me gusta caminar de noche

preferible sin la luna

esconderme en mis pensamientos

reír como niña como nunca pude

pensar en dulces y juegos

y olvidar todo lo que fui

flagelação cerebral

eu gosto de andar a noite

preferível sem a lua

esconda-se em meus pensamentos

ria como uma garota como eu nunca pude

pense em doces e jogos

e esquecer tudo o que eu era

cerebral flagellation

i like to walk at night

preferably without the moon

hide in my thoughts

laugh like a little girl like i never could

think of candy and games

and forget everything i was

body parts

July 22, 2019February 2, 2020 / mbrazfieldm / 8 Comments

splinter

July 21, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 13 Comments

i hope you look at me

from across this blue bed

immersed in your man business

i immersed in a primal hot urge

turn around i command you

i laugh in my head

i crouch quietly like a tigress

licking my lips fantasizing

of your thirst quenching sweets

raw essence on my pulsating tongue

waiting for you to turn off

the computer lights

and turn on my gyrator circuitry board

i’m bathed

i’m slicked in the patchouli you love

my t-shirt the loose one with LA Kings GO!

flash you a warning i do hope you know

that when you lay here

i’ll nuzzle your neck

tug at your ear

lick down the center

of your bristly chest

and right when i reach there

the music comes on

you get sentimental

and you pull me on up

to kiss and to hold me

and call me your love

that’s when it’s ruined

and i start to crumble inside

i know that you told her

the same thing last night

Figaro’s

July 19, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 5 Comments

he asked why do you keep her picture there in the drawer swallowing hard i realize that you were my mother more physically beautiful than any woman i’d ever seen no makeup no artificialness in any way i lied and i said oh i don’t know looking out the window at the bus stop i opened the drawer a few more times and there you remained stoic and frozen in your place as he gnawed at the steamy pepperoni pizza hot pocket and scratched his sack he yelled why don’t you put it in a frame and fear broke out in a sweat a slight vertigo took me and i rubbed my head looking for a hit he yelled again and saw what i was jonesing for he says nope not today lets go to the art store instead we dressed in American drag t-shirted leathered and jeaned he held my hand and missed my forehead kissing my aviators instead are you mad he asked i says no and think quickly about the flamingos at the zoo and the empty dark brown bottles of Kilkenny i left in the bus stop trash can two hours ago my feet feeling disconnected from my soul i says no i won’t go and he turns around to see me i can’t keep her in a frame it would be the ultimate betrayal she was Opa’s favorite until she met my Da and ran away with him imprisoned by her vanity and steadfast love for a man of misery determined to be his only queen on the backs of everybody she had to win but death did not agree what are you spewing about never mind i said i can’t keep her in a frame all her life she was held back by her thoughts expectations disappointments and aggressions even her people wandered the deserts and were rounded up in box cars as the evil ripped out their spirit and put them in cages i forgot he said but she’d like a frame she was always a refined lady as he smiled apologetically and the homeless guy with a grateful dead t-shirt on was handed a bologna sandwich by the salvation army guy as we detoured into Figaro’s Bistrot instead

Fibbing Friday July 19 JULY 19, 2019~THE HAUNTED WORDSMITH

July 19, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 19 Comments

Friday is here and you know what that means! Time to take off the good boy and girl clothes and put your fibbing caps on. What are the greatest whoppers you can spin for today’s questions?

Why is there an ‘e’ on the end of toe but not potato? “Po-ta-toe were triplets and they had an uncle To who lost his “e” in a jousting debacle. So that uncle To(e) wouldn’t bleed to death nephew toe donated his “e” to his uncle. Little toe didn’t need it, the “e” was an extra appendage like a tail.
What did the lettuce say to the rabbit? “If you eat me you might get e.coli.”
What is the best type of stick? “Oh ho ho, naughty naughty…tisk, tisk!”
Why are wheat crackers so tasty? “I need to ask someone who eats them.”
What happens at the rainbow factory on clear days? “They hose down the equipment and re-stock it with unicorn farts, they’re hard to get, like truffles.”
Which item of clothing is the most jealous? “The panty is horribly jealous of the ski mask. Panty would rather be stuck to a pair of face cheeks rather than the bottom ones, poor dear.”
How did a boat get in the middle of the desert? “That’s Noah’s he’s been lookin’ for it!”
What kind of dessert is best served in the desert? “Rock candy, no wait, yes, a chocolate fountain, mmmmmmm……”
What should an Englishman send an Australian for Christmas? “Personally, I think they should both be sending me presents.”
What really happened in the Hellfire Caves? “Some person thought they could replicate Heisenberg’s recipe.”
Why do ghosts exist? “They were in the Hellfire Caves.”
Where do everlasting gobstoppers come from? “That cheap dude from Australia from question #9. He thought it was funny to send me one as a gift.”
Where do dreams come from? “The Subaru commercials and too much extra cheese pizza.”