Poetry

dating app

/ mbrazfieldm / 20 Comments

the evening dewy with tired city rain

bustling streets hurried people

with other people in their lives

to call their own

to be me my only desire was to be

held by strong warm arms

will you be my protector

watching patrons coming in and out

sipping my sharp pop rock ginger ale

i wondered about nineteen thirty seven

thoughts broken for a second naked man

runs into traffic but he’s o.k.

my eyes sleepy mosey on downward

bei mir bist du schoen

serenade the Andrews Sisters while

women named Hazel with a hyacinth scent

sip their gin rickeys wiping their lipstick off the glass

in the saloon there are men reading the LA Times

yet others share lively union talk

then the sapphire eyed mysterious stranger

raven jet hair and a dead maus t shirt

taps me on my gothic shoulder Mary Pickford’s

angels wink at me as they slid off my left shoulder

as he sits down elegant right index finger half raised

signaling the hyperactive bar keep

from the antique flowered gold foil wall paper

Ingrid and Bogey nod at me

and i whisper at old sapphire in a sultry sigh

here’s looking at you kid

la cita

/ mbrazfieldm / 9 Comments

es muy temprano

son las cuatro

de la mañana

y las sombras

que caen afuera

hablan cosas de

mi vida y

no puedo respirar

me dicen que

usted dr. azul

es cardiólogo superior

y que me puede

diagnosticar y dar un beso

en las estrellas marinas

y que todo mi sufrimiento

se ahoga en el olvido

de las sirenas vestidas

en oro y plata

doctor cardiólogo

yo hago muchas preguntas

usted no sería el primero

en decir no puedo contestar

lo que necesita saber mujer

en unas horas estaré completamente

azul y gris con pena y el corazón

se desangra porque ya no puede mas

en su opinión cual es mi prognosis

señor doctor del corazón

lo tengo ya muy quebrado

hare mis planes finales

le acepto su beso

y buscare que los ángeles

negros me vengan a llevar

o encontro

é muito cedo

são às quatro

da manhã

e as sombras

que caem do lado de fora

eles falam sobre

minha vida e

não posso respirar

eles me dizem isso

você dr. azul

ele é um cardiologista superior

e o que você pode

diagnosticar e beijar

nas estrelas do mar

e que todo o meu sofrimento

afoga-se no esquecimento

das sereias vestidas

em ouro e prata

médico cardiologista

Eu faço muitas perguntas

você não seria o primeiro

em dizer que não posso responder

o que você precisa conhecer mulher

Dentro de algumas horas estarei completamente

azul e cinza com dor e coração

ele sangra porque ele não aguenta mais

na sua opinião qual é o meu prognóstico

senhor médico do coração

Eu já o tenho quebrado

Vou fazer meus planos finais

Eu aceito seu beijo

e vou procurar anjos

negros vêm para me levar

the appointment

it’s very early

it’s four o’clock

in the morning

and the shadows

that fall outside

they talk about

my life and

i can’t breathe

they tell me that

you dr. blue

are a superior cardiologist

and that you can

diagnose and kiss it away

in the stars by the sea

all of my suffering

drowns in oblivion

witnessed by mermaids dressed

in gold and silver

cardiologist doctor sir

i ask many questions

you would not be the first

in saying i can’t answer

what you need to know woman

in a few hours i will be completely

blue and gray with grief and a heart

that bleeds because it can’t take it anymore

in your opinion what is my prognosis

mr. heart doctor

it’s already broken

i will make my final plans

i’ll accept your kiss

and i will wait for the black angels

who come to take me

Photo mbrazfield 2019

teufelshund

/ mbrazfieldm / 18 Comments

time has passed by here

i pan the room i see my books

my drawings and the vibrant colors

the outfits different styles

yet mostly all black

the sleeves must remain long

security blanket still after all these years

the incense stretches smoldering in the potted plant

in Garudasana pose Cedar wood and salt

invasive thoughts seep through the fragile lucidity

of this quiet uneasiness the price i’ve had to pay

i shut my eyes i don’t trust closing them yet

at times boot camp trainings thrice removed

refuse to be shrugged off

i look in the mirror morning and night

brush the teeth etc. etc.

but today i’m feeling brave on an anniversary

of yore the battle of Werdin Place

and i see me in the mirror

piece by piece like a color by number pic

as the nights pass by hand in hand

i’m smitten with and embrace more

the medal shaped sCARs they gave me

of warrior heart i fought and fought

and that’s all that really matters

happy

/ mbrazfieldm / 11 Comments

sometimes in the middle of the night

i take the train from one part of town

and then back to the other side

i can’t sleep so i face my curiosity

tipping into the cleavage of the city

and her girlfriend moon

outside of the rolling cab my eyes

they register that it’s dirty

i swear i can see the car exhaust

black sooty pungent belching vulgarity

in the lungs of LA

behold the automotive crack pipe

then my attention flutters to the men

velvet skin plastic smiles and silver tongues

selling me a piece of Jesus and His hotrod

Hollywood Boulevard how much to eat me tonight

i burrow my alien feelings into the tunnels

and the cocky rail rides me to the platform

where humanity scrambles at the truth

of how small we must be to the Bitchgoddess

of everything all poets in history

have lamented about

to chase and purr on the formidable

lies that we are fed

only to show who kindness i wonder

i’m too old and out of time

to place gender or definition on my pleasures

the time to gamble with the rules and regulations

is quickly ending

at dawn pink and gray

with the smell of the city and

her beautifully cruel courtesans

on my hands and lips

i stagger up 7th street

and bum a cigarette from the Meals on Wheels guy

chat up Bang Me Billy and ask about his truck

we stroll to the rich folk Starbucks

he waltzes me up to the lines

we both feel very alive again

and smile at the young savvy people

when they turn up their nose

advice i’d give me if i was my mother

/ mbrazfieldm / 18 Comments

go ahead eat the three cup cakes

jay walk across the mischievous waters

buy Big Mac’s for the street kids

ask the hookers for beauty tips

church hop if the Spirit insists

wrap your thighs around whichever boy you wish

on your terms and not his

go against the family tradition

ride the Ducati instead of the Harley

crank up Led’s Black Dog as you’re lighting a fatty

stay home and read books and howl at the moon

at 3:30 past doom if that’s what makes you happy

talk about the Bard by the water cooler

turn the page when you’ve mastered your spirit

nurture your brain and balance that heart

if you punch punch with your left

but remember they got to swing at you first

if you look wicked good don’t hide it

and every compliment offered to the sisterhood

should come from the heart

don’t disrespect tit for tat the brotherhood

flash them your smile as you’re crushing that Zen

simple misunderstandings

/ mbrazfieldm / 6 Comments

we

met

by the

fruit table oranges

you said were your favorite

fruit i smitten with the fairy tale ideology

of white pickets two point fives and a dog maybe even the PTA

you upstanding patriarch of the family business man in town i would be your one and only not your rodeo clown

psyche flags were risen and when discussed with the appropriate matriarchal councils all my flags burned down with the kerosene of suck it up or else you are not a woman worth your salt

fuck this i thought in the middle of a fight i would not be how i was expected to lay down

so rogue i went from that world of delusional pleasure tumbling weed freed

but alone in dissension doubt demons taunt relentless

so give me another bottle

to numb the

imposed shame

of

failure

la princesa guerrillera de la sur central

/ mbrazfieldm / 9 Comments

pequeña niña un sol con cara

triste que a la misma vez sonríe

porque así dice la ley paternal

florecita de todos colores

tus pequeñas raíces se esconden

detrás de palabras que ahorcan

tu garganta por no poder decir

lo que sientes en la casa

en la escuela en la telenovela

siempre debes de ser

de una u otra manera

pero cuando nuestros ojos

se estrellan los tuyos morenos

llenos de vida

los míos verdes escurridos

porque han visto mucho en la vida

tus labios se parten en dos

arrancas de tu mami y me miras con valor

oiga porque tiene esos dibujos en sus manos

y con mucho miedo me haces responder

son tatuajes quieres ver

y dices que feos tiras tu mirada al cielo

vuelves a la mano extendida de tu madre

pero solamente tú y yo sabemos

que un día vas a disparar tus propias palabras

a los cuatro vientos

mientras que las mías se quedan trabadas

en mis pasajeras manos

a princesa guerrilheira do sul central

menina um sol com cara

triste que ao mesmo tempo ele sorria

porque é isso que a lei paterna diz

florzinha de todas as cores

suas pequenas raízes se escondem

por trás das palavras que pairam

sua garganta por não ser capaz de dizer

o que você sente em casa

na escola na novela

você deve estar sempre

de uma ou outra maneira

mas quando nossos olhos

seus pardos quebram

cheio de vida

meu drenado verde

porque eles viram muito na vida

seus lábios se dividem em dois

você arranca da sua mãe e olha para mim com coragem

ouça por que você tem esses desenhos em suas mãos

e com muito medo você me faz responder

eles são tatuagens que você quer ver

e você diz feio você olha para o céu

você volta para a mão estendida de sua mãe

mas somente você e eu sabemos

que um dia você gravará suas próprias palavras

a quatro ventos

enquanto o meu fica trancado

nas minhas mãos que passam

south central warrior princess

little girl with a sun for a face

sad but at the same time she smiles

because that’s what the paternal law says

little flower of all colors

your tiny roots hide

behind words that stick in

your throat not being able to say

what you feel in your house

at your school in the soap opera

you must always be

one way or another

but when our eyes collide into each other

your brown ones full of life

my green ones drained

because they have seen so much in life

your lips split in two

you tear away from mommy and you look at me courageously

hey why do you have those drawings on your hands

and with fear you make me answer

they are tattoos you want to see

and you say their ugly while you look at the sky

and run back to your mother’s extended hand

but only you and i know

that one day you will launch your own words

at the four winds

while mine stay locked

in my aging hands

three sun girl

/ mbrazfieldm / 11 Comments

at seven months utero blue washroom

the fists pummeled my mother’s face

she never knew i felt it too

in 71’ there was a great earth quake

they ran out and left me in

she never thought i felt it

a tiny tot no older than three suns

the girl with more suns you left me with

shoved my little hands and face

into her secret universes

nobody cared that forcefully i ate them

often told to talk about the greatness

of your perfection as a guide

remind me if you can what were your triumphs

with this backwards crazed unparentble child

other than your abandonment

for many years and as i developed into a self defined

grotesqueness of abomination

taught by the punks the junks and queers

they are my kind they know about the record

not knowing then what i know now

this feeling i snorted it in chugged it

down with lots of gin that other feeling

i shot it up to the Lord above and took it

in the front and back from any boy as lost as i was

i took the punches curses put downs and secrets

too unsavory for the family name sake

there was a time when i yelled fuck you to

everyone around i cut the cord called you both whores

and headed into town and here i stand until the

end that nears upon me nuzzling my throat

with words in nature cleansing

i now move up one more step of wisdom

understanding that the spark of love for you

unrequited as it was never tainted

the three sun girl can go to rest

her eyes no longer brimmed with tears but hope

dissecting the Geneva Convention

/ mbrazfieldm / 5 Comments

the summer is what it is here

the humidity clinging to my tired skin

like a crazy 50’s t.v. wife mockery

on Wall there’s the law and then there’s us

each side with glaring mutual understanding

that nothing is being done

no longer angels no longer devils

Gods gone fishing and they won’t be coming back

the species of Adam failed to keep their end of the

Covenant with Noah and Jesus holy shit what have we done

in life there is reason and there’s law

inside the soul there is right and there is wrong

inside the ego all is mine and nothing yours

on Koehler there is a man who doesn’t know he suffers

the fear he knows not himself prisoner of

the bio-hazardous ecosystem freedom gone awry

the filth the human shit the rage the insanity disease

the pain addiction poverty starvation piss trash

tears the waste of modern time

no longer get through the stains of a life

poorly lived or sorely wasted no logic

no feelings no rhyming no Kingdom will come

betwixt the cardboard and the shelter

the damage has been done

wage on me wage your wars

indifference is your nuclear weapon

on Hill st.

/ mbrazfieldm / 5 Comments

she knocked over the bottles but made it up the drawer to the mirror on the shelf my tabby is alive

the helicopters rumble through the smoky skies the news vans are ready for the close up the tents the chalks the body bags three hours after the big bang

right behind the liquor bank debris in the alley empty Old English bottles and some candy wrappers big hot Cheetos Big Mac box

i saw some guy take a noisy shit on the corner of King street and wipe it off with the LA times i closed the gray gingham curtains

i’m never really sure when the psych meds will kick in but i don’t care as long as i can hear the Garcia’s next door just in case they get drived by since mother had a stroke and lost control over her boys

i do have all i need i don’t mind the four am sirens at five am i’m still not sleeping looking out my fire escape balcony the LA Rams play tomorrow and Dignity Health wants to cure my everything