i like to watch a woman

mbrazfield (c) 2023

i like to watch a woman eat
so much of the female fate
deciphered by her rhythmic jaws

i like to watch her chew her food
she is grateful for the bounty
of the bite she thanks
her Jesus in her thoughts

i like to watch her throat roll down
the morsels of her offerings
sliding down to  nourish
the body that will surely
have to fight again

dreary, Edgar

mbrazfield (c) 2022

clocks blink
like my heart
losing battles
earning scars
once upon
the midnight
dreary Edgar
you are right
this city
sigh do i
this city
this
city
you’ve reduced
me to mud
my learning
laden with
phallic thoughts
executed by goddess
tongue
still dread endures
doubt obscures
midnight throbs
the aching
of the tribe
etches deeply
on the greasy
sidewalkclocks blink
like my heart
losing battles
earning scars
once upon
the midnight
dreary Edgar
you are right
this city
sigh do i
this city
this
city
you’ve reduced
me to mud
my learning
laden with
phallic thoughts
executed by goddess
tongue
still dread endures
doubt obscures
midnight throbs
the aching
of the tribe
etches deeply
on the greasy
sidewalk

skyline in November

when you died four days went by
until the living souls found you
grimace on your face and in the spirit comfort
you are gone sometimes awake at dawn i wonder where you are up in the skyline of the last picture i took
on our first train trip together
poetic in your cries for help you were
you’d cuss us out scream in ignorant hatred
then you’d say “you want a porkchop”
when soul one called it took 3 minutes
i thanked her she thanked me
we hung up wrote your final moments
as an incident report
no more angry calls or wasted lies
no more interrogations with misty eyes
about why the demons at your door don’t show themselves for me
i do remember our trip to Mickey Ds
you wanted cheeseburgers and OJ
we got our order and took our seats
while your eyes fled off in wonder
i did not know it then although sometimes i knew
that the more i pushed you to live
the deeper you fell into the belief
that your troubles would be over
after you visited the other side of that skyline in November

mbrazfield (c) 2022

drowning

mbrazfield (c) 2023

a simple glance across the freeway
is nothing just blindness
i see them feathered creatures flying
full of methane and chewing gum
enough today so i only cried
tragic for us not having
sweet sorrow of missing we won’t know
urchins us all
we walk the music in our head
outspoken messages are
the voices in disturbia drown
flowers are unique grown in farms
across the stars fertile ground
pregnant with disease and poverty
bundled flowers of sun’s tinted roses
blushing hepatitis bud
rabbit holes he said won’t go
i count only numbers for the bosses
you will dole out the splintered crosses
a glance from LA across the bridge
work i need to stay
hold her exhausted hand
offer tissue packs
drying rain
drowning

today was hard

mbrazfield (c) 2023

today was hard
he broke the
fire sprinkler and
a flood washed
three floors down
today was hard
she woke from
elusive slumber with
hot wires slithering
through her brain
convulsions and saliva
at our feet
today was hard
he almost struck
her through the
chest where her
already shattered heart
bleeds beyond belief
today was hard
her poisoned tongue
on point ready
to kill both
of their fragile
egos in one
accusation of deviance
today was hard
there was nothing
resolved so tomorrow
we grow more
tired of this
insufferable calculated demise
today was hard

blackbird

missing from my mind the blackbird looms
hoping to haunt my thoughts
but i’m beyond elusive
you must not take a step i whisper
or i’ll denounce you
expose you to the
wind
missing from my mind the blackbird looms
hoping to haunt my thoughts
and i withdraw my smile from him and send kisses to the gulls instead
the innocents and the vagabonds
and the coroner’s men
know the secret
in
my head
missing from my mind the blackbird looms
hoping to haunt my thoughts
but i’m beyond elusive
my lips pursed
fly up lest you drown
me up
in your desire to comfort
my pain
you want them to cry for me at the
Weingart
missing from my mind the blackbird looms
hoping to haunt my thoughts
and i’ve become so jaded inviting him
in the fire of the midday sun
and the eyes of the gods are away from me
i wish him so long
and happy he
aint
so he flies from me
with a quiet beak
out of my mind i cemented his
cry
and we wake apart in loneliness as such
without the
printed chants
bitter poisoned dreams
the ones where mercy sinks
and i wonder
do we

mbrazfield (c) 2023

poem inspired by Bukowski’s The Bluebird for NaPoWriMo 2023

belonging to the angel

is it possible to love you
when your love feels like a hot railroad track
is it possible to walk with you
when your paths break my back
is it possible to hold your hand
when my beggar’s grip repels you
is it possible to look into the mystique of your eyes
when your face is my nightmare
is it possible to honor you
when you revel in being thee harlot
is it possible that you birthed me
only to orphan me

mbrazfield (c) 2023