pewter
clouds above
five years ago
life was much different
trees lined the children’s laughter
cut
down
for
pricey
empty
unobtainable
homes
Poetry
demander au ciel bleu
when my mind was little
the skyscrapers were tall
God was big too
the streets were filled
with faces strong that walked alone in my drowning dreams
the functions of my body not under my control
and when the body seasoned into what men had sought
it was as if a flock of doves had scattered from my soul
the moon was maiden too long before my birth and then was trampled on her light fallen from its grace
but today i read about a boy and trees his looking for the life that did live underneath
the soil of creation and where someday i will be
looking at the captivating blue glass crystal skies waiting for His words
🌠thanks to my friend Stephen @ https://fullbeardlit.org/2020/04/08/along-this-path-a-five-oclock-poem-by-stephen-fuller-with-audio for inspiring this offering
in other news
rain pitter patters on the window if i look hard enough i can see tiny cat nose triangles and pomegranate shaped paw prints and another angel died
the high school music class saxophone huffs through into my room and the virtual eight grade students cheap ass marijuana wafts in too while another angel dies
the mayor explains how critical the strain is on the county and how we hold hands and fight from our couch as another angel died
the smell of my books and the pills that i took colors of my mind are tired and somber angels dying left and right
ventilators generators procreators thieves and hope beauty mud Your Kingdom come and another angel died
and if i make it past this trip i’ll still click on channel blank brains and angels will still die
lujuria entre muslos
look into my obsidian eye gypsy with diamonds in my hair
i am queen behold tragedy below my feet the rose bush is on fire
delicious pungent profound lust between my thighs
nocturnal the rivers that rush and smother my mound
invited you are to swim below my navel weave the carnal rhythm inside my cave
look stare won’t you into me i am night hungry for longing
it’s too late taste the honey of the poisoned combs deep in your desire you’ve trapped your soul
slowly do i come lay my mouth upon your genesis
before you know me the ashes in my lair
i seep into your body on top as mistress i am revenge is mine
while i strangle your dragon with the gripping force of my goddess beginnings
before the war there is a dewey peace betwixt our two horizons
after the deluge emanating from the center of my all
you lay out bewildered in drunk dusky oblivion
keepsake one Tuesday morning
as if to fall up from the
concrete cliff was so easy my night
terror often red she swallows me up
drinks me like water Venus the trapped
opens paths long to overly extended paper
planes and blocks on fire tumble over
us bursting upon an unassumingly frightening world
la cuisine du chat
granite vinyl floor
false wood boxes
mac and cheese coffee tins
purple bran cereal bowls
window facing south
just the five freeway
somewhere on the fridge
the phone buzzes Van
shimmies face to face
with those wild nights
cat food plate just a few
orange crumbs left
of the meal she ate
water boiling rolling steam
tea leaves lemon and green
zen light amongst the top of tree
tail wound around her paws
a few splintered thoughts
snug between my head
two souls listening
as the city birds chirp
for her and me
esta noche
rosewood arm wrapped tight
moon slice robin egg blue black freckles
beyond the shadow of the spider’s web silvery dew hangs
the heart stopped years ago so quiet it is the invisible steps of the spiders weaving up their net amplified in the violet breeze
my glance molded inside the grip of the cup bitter and heavy
life weeps through the slits of my old old eyes
breath too weak to move spider threads evaporate into a darkness
le dive bar
neon beer signs
fire door mural cop
harassing drunk patron junk filled basement
last heyday in 1950s
cheap luncheon bar feed
John Fante tattoo
don’t eat the nachos
jukebox no one can hear
two whores boxing
wino pissing
across the street
one shoe on the other
hanging from the wire
that brought the city down
they work on instinct
they are all prison taught
he whispered candy ass freaks
tell me to suck their dick
just for walking on their street
chasms blur all out
the kingdom gone
the will be fickle
find the beauty
of the bones
encased in jaundiced laughter
yes i’m a country lover dressed in a Ramones tshirt and i dont give a damn
my mom liked country music
i wasn’t sure what to make of it
born in a mecca of diversity as far as the blind eye could see
race segregation economics roach versus beetle infestations
but country was white blues i felt
Johnny Cash praised God like Rev. Gary Davis would
Dolly and Kenny brought joy to my mom and her kibbutzi sisterhood
Willie and Kenny transported a 7 year old pig tailed little girl to another America while on various road trips with the acquaintance to those angels
there has never been any doubt my drum is not only different but off as well
i can’t say that life made me this way but here i am
my thoughts have never been linear and yes i like it hard
music people music
not necessarily in volume but in soul Patsy i’m still in love
with our heartache our diverging dreams
you fell to pieces and i preferred to cut
piano bars mosh pit stops jazz hangouts agape screams i love them all the same
and every now and again when it all gets insane i remind myself that all diversified complications still carry the same twang
RIP Gambler 🃏
a christening awry
in the beginning was the word
as i unfold beneath my mother’s water
there i am suspended
in the middle of my death
beneath the water
where the all of my love
must now reside
beneath the water
and i heard the wind say
twixt the trees and the bush
and the word was with Him only
then my father spoke prickly and grotesque a gruesome eye opening
black doves in the dream led something in me to scream beneath that water
when that something of a passing breeze separated from the flesh of me
it said that the word was God
and i chose to fall back beneath that dark blue water
while upon my dubious rising
my arms stretched out
to the sinking of the sun
words less spoken 