Poetry

carnations are pink

/ mbrazfieldm / 4 Comments

in my kitchen calico lady cat yawns at the sunny rays piercing the window

she don’t like tuna a real nut job of a cat

my coffee’s ready four cubes and half and half we engage eyes the cat and i

she stretches ten feet long including freshly sharpened claws on the leg of the velvet black couch

i concede she’s the queen i drink coffee smokey creamy good i think of a certain lover of long ago

the cat she knows my thoughts i blush a little her pupils broaden at my joyful shame

my memories entwined with coffee steam like my lover’s clumsy breath descending on my bright pink mound

to miss not the sensation but the act of being held for a few moments by a pair of hungry arms

sensing the melancholy seeping in the cat meows at me asking that we share a glance out the window

my carnations had bloomed again after a long blue winter

it’s cool old dude

/ mbrazfieldm / Leave a comment

were both off you know

drunk wild seed spreader

we met in combat always

we tried i still remember the porky pigs and bugs bunnies your fellow inmates drew when you sent letters from jail

twisted twisted twisted we became one old soul one fallen angel

it’s late now you a legend i’ll leave it there

it’s ok i’ve found others to take your place then they betrayed me too

ha! trust you say i have none not even for me

i needed a daddy maybe in another life i was something wicked and i deserved you or maybe it was the other way around

you hurt me a hurt so so deep that i don’t know how to let God in

but it’s ok i can walk talk think and take a bath i can breath laugh and when they least expect it maybe even love a little

i really needed you father when i went ape shit and almost took my life ok ok a few times

just like mom always the corrector

you tried and thanks for letting me be your father

if i was a guy i wouldn’t be a good husband but i love kids so maybe i’ve been my own dad at my age i’m still confused my time line shattered

it’s ok we did what we could i can drive monster trucks shoot guns and know basic boxing moves

thanks daddy that makes me cool

i’ve got to go now we hurt each other

your legacy was tough to carry and since then i have tweaked it a bit

maybe today i will be my own mirror

threesome

/ mbrazfieldm / 30 Comments

moon peeks slowly orange glow beautiful at two in the morning

we inebriated on thoughts on old angers and accusations

moon she shows cleavage through silks and laces tailored for her by the Venus

we savage with our voice one fist raised above the other torn lapels teary eyes your cut knuckles my need to run

moon swells enormous pregnant by the Mars no weeping in her labor she knows how to raise the stars

we impassioned and raged swell in our erotic locations kissing negotiations the climax nears the horizon

moon wanes with satisfied relief and the pinkest carnal flush

la times unplugged

/ mbrazfieldm / 11 Comments

it used to be that brown or black eyes were the abysmal of magical beauty and blues were sparkling pools of Narcissus’ soul staring back at me today i walk slow aimlessly sipping pretending to be comfortable and care free but it’s only procrastination to my left bumper stickers promising green utopia for all to my right oceans deep with human carnage strewn and labeled social crisis the caucused trumped up rallies won’t heal my broken brothers and if i’m not careful the depth of my wavering human decency could quickly shallow up

wine

/ mbrazfieldm / 23 Comments

sweet age she nestles between the folds of my skin

the blurred mirror tells my tales

eyes dark yellow swamp colored crystalline with dew

tears they have emotion encoded through the years

my lips pucker and it’s my grandmother who i see eye brows raised a little my mother stares at me

and when the scrutiny of French soap is through only a jaundiced blush peeks on my face

reminders of past lovers’ livid strikes

youth you silly delirium pills spirits powders and glues substitutes for reality during a time when lies were truths

aged lady time i have always loved you a dumb girl Don Juan begging for you be merciful old girl my bones are soft and wine however fine was rarely a comfort

this hill of mine beloved of Fante and i oh do you remember the sliding down rolling banshees trust fund empties

ah i talk too much i have been dying since Eve’s creation was not being born the original abomination

time please cloak that mirror i don’t want to be trapped in my memory of wiping bloody sorrow from my face and from the face of my mothers

time can i ever forgive myself

my gown

/ mbrazfieldm / 8 Comments


look beyond my dark thick gown
be strong and courageous
God is all around me
but you must look past my heavy gown
my light my freedom never closes
for i am not a door without a knob
look beyond my cowebbed gown
but make sure that you clasp your thoughts hand
you will need them for this journey
take time and show me that you are opening a window breathe liberation in
when the threads and seams of my tightly stitched sleeves imprison you
open your heart and push on through
the light is closer than it seems
there will be times when you’ll get lost amongst the blackest gauze of my deceptive petticoats
you will ache cry curse moan writhe in madness
dont be afraid to use the sharpness of righteous diligence to cut on through
don’t be afraid of my gown
within it lay your wings

after the X show

/ mbrazfieldm

the soft cool feather strokes of breeze fingered through my shaggy tangled hair teasing out a kaleidoscope of red highlights

the muddy booted covered feet carried my dirty denim wrapped carcass through the termite riddled door into his wool upholstered army cot where he kept 3 golf clubs

we kissed wildly like two beasts on the savannah interlocked in that battle to the death right before they cut to the Mutual of Omaha commercial

love i wondered as he pawed at me what was it while his teeth searched for my young girl bits

it wasn’t like the movies nor was there flirtation or sexy anticipation like in Bei Mir Bistu Shein

then he stopped my eyes still closed and my tongue lapping in the dark

i need a cigarette he whispered can i bum one i rasped

what is love do you think i dealt out my rhetorical grunts

an almost neon silhouette of his broad shoulders shrugged against the poker faced moon

thank you

/ mbrazfieldm / 8 Comments

pin head rain drops fall the slugs arise from slumber

my steps uneven ballerina slippers getting soggy

but somehow it’s ok my world isn’t asunder

there it is my favorite corner French iron wrought patio furniture and a mural of Mexican bolsheviks on the wall

stepping up to the bar she smiles awake and wide product of the prozac nation landslide

triple espresso red eye no room for anything

thanks are in order i bless her heart with crooked sinful fingers i tip her jar

a chair is chosen for me the usher mysterious and melancholy lures me next to him

he scoots over cigarette stink on his beard but he smiles despite his need to be left alone

i sip ladylike against my physical appearance a contrast in being

he turns his face to me glimmers in him golden eyes tilting his face i notice the wrinkles around his mouth wondering why my eyes have no glimmers

he sips the coffee sliding down his throat a barely there inaudible gulp he pardons himself

as the majesty that he has made me i accept his kind regret and we sit quietly in the eclectic cafe being alone together

cowboy Earl

/ mbrazfieldm / 8 Comments

gold tooth black Stetson hat

a shitload of loitering tickets and pink assless chaps

he was from Mississippi grew up on bad land

menfolk took his innocence his momma shot herself

we both sit by the parrot tree looking cross the street at the hipsters in the street meat taco line

as if he’d quip every now and again

how’d you become a cowboy Earl

that’s a personal question Grady

cool i’d say passing the Batman portable bong his way

lava rocks

/ mbrazfieldm

first the beers

then the hard stuff

then snow

she said good God don’t you feel alive

i moved my face down

my eyes look up

grimace at the stars

smoke invades my ratted hair

miss my cat she said

his name was butterfly

got killed by coyotes in the west hills

don’t you miss your cat

silence

then a nod

a snort

and a pop

i don’t have pets

i’m not responsible enough

brown eyes tears up

cheeks scarlet

my parents hate me

i’ve been such a huge problem

i saw yellow rose buds in the therapy room she heaved

they want to put me on depakote i said

my nose bled a little

why

i flipped my daddy’s car

on the 10 heading east

oh

then she swallows loudly

malt liquor spills out

from the corners of her cold sore covered mouth

but i dig it here i say

i’m thankful for the cool scars i caress and stretch my arm

and that i am aware of my self destruction i guess

sounds like you’re winning the battle she says

my face falls

under my breath

reaching for another cigarette

i hear the boots coming to seek us out

we know the routine

our tiny back packs get buried under the decorative lava rocks