Photography

psalm 23 LA style

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mbrazfield (c) 2023

today was a  bitter day
i contemplate giving up
the people i love
have violated my trust
stomped my heart
spat in my courage
to all i said fuck you
in a moment of haste
i walked out to the street
not believing what they did
i suppose we are just human
Liberty i work with your poor
your huddled masses yearning
for something
my compassion and loyalty
dragged through the hell of your mouth
beat by the hate in your heart
and God
i feel alone
afraid
thy rod and staff
comfort no one
today was a bitter
confusing day
its become so very easy
to look the other way
but in the end
i couldn’t walk away
so God help me
as i walk into the fire again

cicatrix

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mbrazfield (c) 2023

i have not felt well for years it seems i started to see the ghosts in the trees and broken lemons on the ground at midnight the welts in psyche begin to throb and i get up to walk in our great metropolitan cemetary for the crematorium cleaners don’t show up till noon my eyes cast a glance unto the sea only to witness the horsemen looking for the premature broken seals littered there by pissed off angels with head bowed James Dean style i wonder if Eve is in heaven i see helicopters pointing spotlights on the damned while with each new grave stone painted on these walls my scars form roots and i wander less each time i see the carnage

trees

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mbrazfield (c) 2020

in dream i walk PicoUnion
Lydia Lunch hair do
fringe beneath my eyes
the hotdog vendor burns
her inventory
hands in jean jacket pockets
a gold Volvo stops an inch from me
i wear tap shoes to hear a click
because the LAFD sirens sicken me
in the sky there is a subtle sun
negotiating with the trees
one particular tree caught my eye
as he bent in an uproar
almost majestic in size
he blocked me from Hyperion’s
cancerous sighs
chewing Bazooka Joe’s
careful of my side eyeing
in case the fentanyl groupies
demand my food bank box
the city tired as she is
steady her sidewalks remain
in spite of the oppression
‘and the wind began to howl’
protested from a Tennessee plate
Robert England  cabin
suddenly the driver and i lock eyes
as lady Vyvanse begins to ebb inside
my pupils begin to show
but my dream turns out
is a hell bound reality

stoic

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mbrazfield (c) 2023

the magnolia trees
with hearty roots
ripping through sidewalks
i walk with empty hand
your face grey eyes fedora
button down vintage shirt
Dickie pants a reall bad ass
appears to me like a mirage
me a sick old girl
grown leathery tough
round my ages
im astonished how easy
its become to not give a fuck
when the Los Feliz sun my face kisses
then a mouthy bird with riot chirps
suck me back among those trees
those quiet late dark nights
when in your car
id give you head
pleading in my heart
youd love me back
yet as years
travel on my breaking soul
your face that i use to adore
is just as stoic as ever

Sun Valley ’77 in ’23

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rocket pops blue tongues

raspberry lemon salute

sweetness in my soul

bitter beer hotdog

smoke woodsy lingers in my

ponytail swooshing

the hogs growl as the

jean and leather veterans’

eyes well up with Taps

the leathery feel

of my uncle’s tired hands

while i trace his scars

a little young girl

did see the poignant pain

his tribulations

forever brothers

gone away heroes to the

Elysium Fields

woman now i am

involuntold unto wars

of chemical kind

inventory i

do take cloaked in the doctrine

of recycled pain

standing wind i hear

not the cheer of victory

the dragon is nigh

troopers in the rain

wet uniforms drenched in tears

blood flows in bad will

poignant still are the

wounds only men understood

i still stand by you

fallen do not land

social napalm comes again

eyes stay vigilant

the flicker

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mbrazfield (c) 2023

the damp cold of the night

stuck to faces like wet tissue paper

in the alley where we smoked

being cool knowing all

i saw the flicker

invisible the signal

i shrugged it off

as too much alcohol

just the same

the flicker was there

tiny sparks of anguish

her eyes flashed

like wings on fireflies

then she slept

i took some steps

toward her head was brick

vomit eulogized the space

shoes torn and taped simultaneously

her wig tarry straw

7 of her fingernails fungused raw

morbid were my thoughts

approaching her in wonder

sounds escaped here and there

from her cavernous mouth

two lips as if she wore black licorice

upstairs above us

a hipster whistled

dark is the night he tweeted

the holy 18:28 she repeated

both bowed our heads to the flicker of our fate

 

her thighs

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mbrazfield (c) 2023

near the exits she stalls
pondering how to leave
the halls are all she’s known
selling pussy causing brawls
she says in sobbing whispers
before reporting to dad
i’m too old for this journey
legs bruised lips split by the cops
she mouthed off while raising her fists to the sky
then a shooting took over
so they let her off
with a warning that judged her
deep in her soul
later come problems
with bottles of booze
her daddy just told her
go visit Bruce
she stops at the station
to clean up her thighs

Terre Haute Indiana

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mbrazfield (c) 2023

here are we
the older youngs
free we are in cages of deceit
roaming their streets
coordinates
34.043926, -118.242432
live hear in death daily
hung tooth bad finger
blue the deal of song
we hum in hallucinations
good feet bad path
lay at your door step
cardboard deluxe
population dense
in invisibility
afterglow of probability
selling
taking
smuggling
gaping
puffing away social security
for us the Depression didn’t end
soup kitchen tourist
flop house nudists
we sweat it out
ashes torches broken spirits
smarter roaches
landlords watch the flock
Jimmy lost his luck
blue like artic ice
lips parted breath is gone
some one will call kin
near Terre Haute Indiana

anonymous alcoholic

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mbrazfield (c) 2023

dawn
it starts
bitter thoughts regurgitating
that’s how it begins
spinning gusts of pain appear
that hold me down to drown
fighting back the need to kill off
those words that bind the lies that shelter
self rage bitterness destruction hatred sadness anger doubt trepidation
until the moon in the inky sky releases the essence
of suffering to dreams pulling me deeper into putrid wading pools
struggling to stand on my two feet i raise fists in victory