the madness of your grace

January 27, 2019September 9, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / Leave a comment

in the hour of the last breath
before the cliff is jumped
and the red of the blood
has lost its vitality
and her lips die for words of regret

know that i have loved you
with all of my all
the universe stands witness to my sin
that when i choose to abandon you
know everything in my heart
has broken and spilled out

it is not easy to devout my all

to you

i cannot see

when you are not there but i charge on
in the lust that things will come
to a halt and i will rest
you are of war and i am a gun
without trigger

Quietude

January 26, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / Leave a comment

singing songs of other

tongues at different times

throughout the night helps

the sadness fly away

the fall and deepened groans

cradle my dimming light

nobody comes with ancient signs

for me to watch and the notes dissipate

I thought I saw your aura flow

down by the river in the night

the foggy morning confused my

eyes and I stood there stung

by the beauty left behind

the gentle sway of how you bent

the hearts of rhythm in the

moon so tender

clay smelled pure this morning

as it grabbed on to my shoes

the dog in me waggled a little

in my heart

the tarot cards

January 26, 2019October 9, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 2 Comments

they say things will be good

the suns and the deaths

keep showing up

and my breath it cuts short

they say to hang on but

to let go of my addiction

to the one i ask for

the pressure of faith is insurmountable

in the middle of the night

when the fear is greater

i draw a fool

going nowhere in a circle

Marama doce lua

January 25, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 2 Comments

wearing your silver suit

as the king of my night

Marama waltzes here

through the ancient sky

commandeering his multitudes of star subjects

i too wait

for my one little beam of tender light

to show me his face

while i sit here

winking at his glory

from my servant’s chair

my sweet Marama

minha doce lua

lesson

January 25, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 1 Comment

i thought i saw a light in the blizzard

i thought i had walked up to it

i thought it let me in

i thought it was warm

i thought it took my pain

i thought it made me happy

i thought it wanted me

the way i thought i wanted it

i now know i was blind in the storm

i now know i was crippled too

i now know i had been standing outside

where the cold held me down

i now know the liquids in my veins

and how i had cried

and even though i cant want it any longer

it will still never want me

no beat chops here

January 23, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 3 Comments

ghosts of jazz notes float

slowly in the breeze tonight

Billie’s song haunts me

crimson streets howling with soul

brick by brick the voices grow

Rexall

January 21, 2019September 6, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / Leave a comment

on the table is a word
followed by dozens of
other words lying next
to each other in lines of
instruction, warning and
grief

although the moon has
dropped her pretty face
i pick her up by her wise
chin and beg her to shine
again

the stars in my moon’s
hair dance like beams
in a driven stony river
where the bones of time
soak unto the soil of my
bloods

what a waste of the moon

January 21, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 1 Comment

what a waste of the moon.

she hangs there brightly,

excitedly laughing,

waiting for you and i to kiss.

i look at her with an apologetic smile looking nervously

at the door to open.

i don’t want to hurt her.

i really wish you could see the beam of love in her face.

what a waste of the fragile moon.

who like me hangs there in the empty stage of the night, broken.

wishing you would someday beam for me.

late at night

January 19, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / Leave a comment

when the moths sleep
and the ants strategize
how to crumble a dead
water bug under the house
i wake up with fever.

the riveting white hot
hateful kind that doesn’t
let you sweat. my kidneys
brochette while my heart
slowly bakes and in a pang
of fear i think if i wait
will i live to the morning?

a war rages between heaven
and hell in a warning that
Einstein understood well
relativity unto death and life
the wormholes and quantum
so plainly in sight.

3:13 a.m.
so dimly you come. to
satiate my sole being with
liberty’s cry. but i wait
another season to trial
another pill in the angst
to chase life. a comfort
in theory, in practicum
a lie.