Poetry

a las 3:37 a.m.

/ mbrazfieldm / 5 Comments

a noche soñé contigo

sentí me rostro en tu

pecho muy masculino

y tu corazón latía

como un tango

cuando abrí mis ojos

desangraban lagrimas

de pena abandonada

me toque a si misma

buscando el ardor

del placer que una vez

me brindabas

cerré mis ojos y la

tristeza me tomo

de mi mano y fui

en sueños a los

infiernos del rechazo

às 3:37 a.m.

eu sonhei com você à noite

eu senti meu rosto na sua

peito muito masculino

e seu coração estava batendo

como um tango

quando abri meus olhos

eles estavam sangrando lágrimas

de tristeza abandonada

eu me toco

procurando o ardor

do prazer que uma vez

você me ofereceu

eu fechei meus olhos e

tristeza eu levo

da minha mão e eu fui

em sonhos para o

infernos de rejeição

at 3:37 a.m.

i dreamed about you last night

i felt my face on your

very masculine chest

and your heart was beating

like a tango

when i opened my eyes

they were bleeding tears

of abandoned grief

i touched myself

looking for the ardor

of the pleasure that you

once offered me

i closed my eyes and the

sadness took me

by my hand and i went

in dreams to the

infernos of rejection

tufts

/ mbrazfieldm / 3 Comments

trees blink allowing the weepy sun to pock the ground round the valley the hares brown and gray with little tan lizards checking out the wheels stuck in the mud walking around and away from my folks i find the skeletons of creatures grown old waiting in peace not knowing how curious i am to touch the tufts of fur left on their bleached bones the air sleeps and doesn’t caress my hair but i don’t mind being more wild than it for a change

two forests

/ mbrazfieldm / 11 Comments

as i followed the silver mist

i could not understand it was her voice

and the voice of the others in their

cocktail dresses

lyrically they laughed in a quasi celestial choir

while they clinked their martini glasses

she accounted the times after the war

running barefoot through Spandauer Forst

and feeling the twigs between her toes

her eyes welled up recounting her Vaters joy

flicking her red hair back in a proud swoosh

she reached for the vodka bottle

Sinatra hung above their shoulders

and nodded me into my room

little green eyes fell unto the carpet

“ja Mutti” trembled out

i woke up to the pounding of first

responders on my neighbor’s heart

on the corner of 5th and Wall

pink spider love

/ mbrazfieldm / 2 Comments


the tendons in my arms

sense of falling up

pangs and hisses

hole in the walls

beyond the sill

pigeons puff in heat

summer i feel

of the spinning axis

loss of sense no thoughts

just empty glass after empty glass

bumps on the gooses i think i think

looking up hanging down from the window

i think im Spiderman

woman that’s me

turn on my water works

over who

last one for the road

yes you hurt me

one toke full glass

new chance

i want to get off

now

those gray eyes

you’re passed out

on the bed made by

the leaders of example past

i remain standing

questionable victory

in this battle of the sexes

physics, interrupted

/ mbrazfieldm / Leave a comment

the apple trees died last winter sitting on the front porch watching the bird bath go green with time’s CO2 no apples no birds they went away forever until three years from now it’s times like this when i think of Dr. Hawking and his warning to Geneva in a most conventional way we don’t know what we don’t but we know we shouldn’t  but still we do being made in His image what does it mean when we create in tubes surpassing victor frankenstein shriveled are the avenues showered in teeny asteroids that take our minds to the false heaven while we float in our own shit and we land hard but we won’t cure cancer and while the pipelines feed our need to ride free man i mean really free at what cost and my wild beasts are wild no more floating away on sheets of ice as seen on tv on the front porches of the brownstones on Union Avenue  i miss the apples

quae nunc, populi mei

/ mbrazfieldm / 5 Comments

where evils and torments hide

in the closet under boxes

inside urns of times forgotten

and disposed of like a bomb

glory be if it comes

by light but the night

is a begger and to hide away

her love she stabs me in my heart

the man will leave and take

away what will save him for

a day without noticing the silence

in the hills

of all the tools that have been

given by the only tree of life

depends on many factors writ in bloods

old at 8

/ mbrazfieldm / 7 Comments

on auxiliary thought
it doesn’t seem
as if life can get
too heavy but
my bones no longer
care to witness
the simple matter
that is before me

time is lost but like
my bones it prefers
to be in limbo and
time, she knows distance
is for my own good

apart from some golden
days and some hours
made of lead i can stand
up and smile at Pluto
my fourth grade friend

on the yard where

riddles stood for rites of passage

routine

/ mbrazfieldm / 4 Comments

your lip moves a little

     eye lids wild   sleep takes you

i imagine i kiss you and i ever so lightly

    touch your arm           hold your calloused hand              your scent invades me     as i yearn to be taken

yet in your waking hours    you revoke permission of my eyes

                   landing on you

i could watch for ever     your gray eyes trap me

      you laugh at me    my smile drops in

as i feign glee outwardly      the flower i brought you

    has wilted away    then i sang you my love   on bloody knee

you stood over me    and shook your head

punkroquera

/ mbrazfieldm / 6 Comments

confieso

que

soy de

corazón salvajemente inquieta

orgullosa de ser quien soy

cuando lagrimas caen de mis ojos son hielo

mi sonrisa parte piedras y mis puñaladas son de amor niña brava voladora

música que grita de mi alma volcán de las diosas manchada en esplendor negro y rojo mil banderas en el cielo

mis botas marchan así al los terrenos desconocidos para conquistar toda la sabiduría humo violento de cien civilizaciones corren en la sangre industrial con guitarras y altavoces ídolos del circulo somos dueños del espacio

mis garras sucias con pecados inocentes mi maquillaje esconde la verdad del sonido eterno rebeldía dulce universo en mi ojo verde

en la ciudad de las estrellas todos brillamos en los cartones y mansiones

mas rápido quiero velocidad arrancar mi peso y volar

con mis pulseras de plástico

tatuajes de acero

labios callados

vida

punkroquera

punkrocker

eu confesso

o que

sou de

coração descontrolado

orgulho de ser quem eu sou

quando as lágrimas caem dos meus olhos são gelo

meu sorriso parte pedras e meus esfaqueamentos são de amor voando menina corajosa

música que grita da minha alma deusas do vulcão manchadas em esplendor negro e bandeiras vermelhas mil no céu

minhas botas marcham assim para as terras desconhecidas para conquistar toda a sabedoria violenta fumaça de cem civilizações corridas no sangue industrial com guitarras e oradores ídolos do círculo nós possuímos o espaço

meus sujos com pecados inocentes minha maquiagem esconde a verdade do eterno som doce universo rebelde em meu olho verde

na cidade das estrelas, todos nós brilhamos nas caixas e mansões

mais rápido eu quero velocidade para puxar meu peso e voar

com minhas pulseiras de plastico

tatuagens de aço

lábios silenciosos

vida

punkrocker

punkrocker

confessing

what

i am a

wildly restless heart

proud to be who i am

when tears fall from my eyes  they are ice

my smile splits stones and my punches are pure love brave flying girl

music that screams from my soul volcano goddesses stained in black and red splendor a thousand flags in the sky

my boots march to unknown lands to conquer all wisdom violent smoke of a hundred civilizations run in the industrial blood with guitars and amplifiers idols of the circle we own the space

my dirty nails with innocent sins my makeup hides the truth of the eternal sound rebellious sweet universe in my green eye

in the city of stars we all shine in the boxes and mansions

faster i want speed to pull my weight and fly

with my plastic bracelets

steel tattoos

silent lips

life

punkrocker