Mother Harriet
eyes determined for freedom
hands of guiding light
sojourning through our city
at long last i feel your might
Author: mbrazfieldm
cocoon
February, in a place where there is no time
but to waste
you, two young soldiers kept at bay
by a raggedy county tax funded white veil
there, between the cold and the colder concrete bed
lays a baby butterfly
ready to take flight, transforming, shaking off its earth,rising from its origin towards the hand of God
i envied your horizontal stance
but from my wretched vertical position
winced at what might have been your life
a supernova worm
before a thousand suns and so many many other moons
rivers crossed and coins spent
but wings are in their stead
mercy tipped love arrow and light
cleansing, beautiful,wondrous light
no more ripping of your worm cloak
like such
i, still in my lateral hoax left to rot
for summers more
good bye, good bye, good bye
1948
at long last a home
for the weary bones
chosen and loved
above all
in the classification
of mud and breath
here a kingdom
you will have and
come forth to multiply
as life meant to
last
however there are
many rivers to cross
and all are made of fire
rain check
i saw the fruit meant to be eaten
and i turned away from it.
i could not endure opening my eyes
to what was before me.
the
hum of machines and
the slow burn of phantom progress.
the cat, she slowly walked on the
hot summer kitchen floors
licking her paws after a tuna dinner.
pills on the counter next to
the toast, i could not raise my hands
to lick.
Ananias of the West (then came Saul) {iv}
the peaks have fallen to
the underworld of the
dying bones crawl from
the fire to greet the
smiling clowns of
vice and the music
falls from the trees
to the roots of the
children who run from
the ponies of pale
mothers
Ananias of the West (then came Saul) {iii}
the sullen forest of
despair calls my god
given name of recklessness
the system of service and
loyalty does not exist any
way break my heart and
leave me dead sweat
and blood mixes with
sugar drips to the
eyes of my virgin so
i stand on the cold
ground for you alone
Ananias of the West (then came Saul) {ii}
once you touched my face
in blessing set me free
to fly and tell my soul
to come to you lost and
frightened in the cage of
the walls of sorrow
she cannot hear me as
i fly by her house of
blue thunder and the rain
melts my body to the
ground
Ananias of the West (then came Saul) {i}
stumbling across your
river you catch me
in the shores of your
gentle heart and i weep
mercy does not dawn for
my heart walking across
the earth like a gypsy
flees the holy spirit for
her sins calm is a blessing
that i did not inherit
the gods have no such
plans for me
layman optics
ever
seen the eye
of a dead anything?
the jelly hardens
and one can see
the depths of hell.
where i haunt, i see those
eyes everyday.
they come in blue,
grey, green, hazel; but the brown
ones are most tragic.
a Psalm redux
it’s
come to pass
that a heart has exploded,
and for the sake of the hypocrite
sloppily taped back together again.
as though the trees no longer care
i look through the steps we took
one time and then two. brutal are your ways
delivered with most foreign warmth.
how can a Buddhist kill?
how can a Christian save?
someone say something
of meaning and strength.
but i am too of tree and
not clay. i hang there in the dry
woodsy field swaying from the
trunk. uprooted and weak.
did you meet Eve or Adam
at least? God cast a spell
and put me to sleep.
give me an ally someone i can see…
words less spoken 