iconoclast

/ mbrazfieldm / 18 Comments

when you paint your face

to highlight

the earth

the womb

in your eyes

the beginning

keeper of spark

when you cry

your muscles

hold back

the vengeance

of a super massive black hole

she wolf

protecting her pups

we would think

that you’re illusion

but that simply

isn’t the case

Goddess maker of kings

when the Almighty

anointed them with crowns

it was your blood

that flowed

through their veins

lonely orb

director of the stars

all roads lead

to something

that isn’t very far

mother black crow

sister white dove

cousin gray owl

into the holy

waters dammed up deep

with secret

mystic powerful

graceful silent

ghost humming

hymns of all that’s told

modern wrecker

proof of life

everlasting warrior

immutable light

against the ones

who insist that cloaks

are wise

only you

in all eternity

to come

revolutionary

prophet

i raise my eyes

to behold the

invincible iconoclast

officer Cassidy and the J walking kid

/ mbrazfieldm / 6 Comments

you/so what is the problem now

me/ nothing

you/your father is worried

me/hmmm… i haven’t seen him in three weeks

you/the school district is thinking of recommending a level 12

me/i don’t wanna go

you/it’s for your protection

me/all the shit i needed protection from has already happened

you/ why are you angry

me/why not

you/do you think sarcasm will help you

me/i’m not asking it to

you/your psych tests show you’re very smart

me/i’m a girl

you/(smile)

me/so… are you charging me or what

you/what’s the rush

me/you bore me

you/you made the driver crash his car

me/how do you figure that i was just crossing the street he ran the stop sign thinking i would suck his dick

you/now is that language necessary

me/i’m talking the way you boys do

you/he says you ran toward his car

me/i did not i was crossing the street J-walking to be perfectly honest

you/so you’re saying he was trying to kidnap you

me/no you’re saying that

you/enlighten me

me/he sped up as i was getting on the curb he thought i was a hooker

you/hmmm…are you sure

me/look i didn’t total a car so i really don’t care what you think or believe

you/your dad is worried about you he thinks you’re doing drugs

me/i know he’s doing drugs and more

you/you’re so young why so much hate and rage

me/(smile)

you/well

me/i’m cool man

you/maybe you need to go to juvey for a while

me/on what charge

you/(silent glare)

me/was my mom called

you/she told the principal to call your father

me/(knot in throat) cool

you/the driver wants to press charges

me/that’s fine

you/do you care about anything

me/sure i’d like to visit Bora Bora someday and i love NASA

you/you’re a piece of work

receptionist/the parent said he’s not dealing with this to call the mother

you/were going downtown kid

me/(knot in throat) may i request a copy of “The Catcher in the Rye”

you/(silent glare)

love letter to Allen

/ mbrazfieldm / 7 Comments

hi

Allen

it’s me the

kid who read you

too early in her life and yelped before

the howl can’t you see i really love you

i’m a boy in

a body

of a

girl

me

i had

a mother

too she was gone

but until now i can’t write her poems

easing her death for me lost in the fog

can i be a

blue sailor

with you

and

sweep

across

this world to

hear the voices

louder in our heads and words seeping through

the Hebrew ghosts of our mothers’ tears for

a life torn to

tiny bits

too small

to

pick

up and

put back on

the shelf of show

Allen did we get old in babyhood

is that why passion runs lukewarm tempests

i’m fading in

my only

land

where

copper

painted god

children played with

the sun and all her golden sisters too

before the bearded strangers came with the

ships and fools to

drown in pools

of their

own

made

sorrow

tonight i

want to drink to

you the man i love and sip from your mind

the dirty thoughts the ones with guys and all

that comes with them

if i can

only be

a

mere

armpit

hair of yours

and see what you

have seen and hear the howling of the fears

that haunt all men to their torment in life

so poorly lived

and here i

am for

you

can i be your spirit animal, Mr. Ginsberg?

Dionaea muscipula

/ mbrazfieldm / 5 Comments

flowers are nice but i didn’t get them often the guys i dated weren’t romantic i guess it’s ok i get me flowers now and again i do love a good road trip and the feel of wind in my hair i’ve never been one to lend herself to tight long hugs it frightens me or when i got to like it they left me its best to kiss first wham bam thank you man and then run away forever i love a nice juicy philosophical conversation or if i could find someone like Tesla i admit that it gets tricky when lust calls but he wants a commitment and i’m not prepared to fold so i’ll walk and i’ll think i’ll paint and i’ll stall i’ll fly and i’ll land in his nest when he is vulnerable

train is nigh

/ mbrazfieldm / 9 Comments

end of battle

tired can’t sleep

life full

of non-sequiturs

non-sense and violence

cheap sex never love

or very little

pelvises copulating mid air

no connection to the heart

always flying soaring

to nothing

rules put-downs and judgments

torn down by the veracity of my past

hard to imagine

process logic fire lover

too tired

no lifting cups tonight

war pipes away

needles of deception

found out today

air in the mid night clear

love not supreme enough for me

Coltrane our train is nigh

they

/ mbrazfieldm / 4 Comments

they too tumultuous for the human skin in the concrete castles of their heritage across seas and spirits children of the mental Gypsy of the skies buried standing up because of the way it had to be they modern ancients blood slow blue for bruising not for nothing else pain deep from marrow bone deafening in the soul of future fruitlings scrubbing out a filthy spot that wickedly came anyway woe upon no one else but the dueling ‘archs’ and pass the wine for sobbing

rumination ii

/ mbrazfieldm / 12 Comments

to breathe

in your aura

the smell of your hair

the rough of your chest

peek a boo huff in your voice

the way you look down

to catch my breasts

in your hungry mouth

to breathe a past

and let it go

floating like ashes

when we were lovers

and we were kings

but time is not a lady

who waits for those who fear

of losing life

to breathe a future

where i am lost

without my lover

without my king

did you go away from me

to make me kneel

and see me bend

in the blackness of

night’s bitter drink

element

/ mbrazfieldm / 5 Comments

if the rust stained bones in my frame

were to ever get a chance again

to glide across the universe

look into Pandora’s jet white eyes

and smell the lighted stars

like people sniff the roses

my soul to keep i’d give away

to plug the holes

and pave new ways

for dusk to kiss the lonely hearts

for dawn to inter the bitter crop

from where my old roots are rotted

i’d be a renegade of love again

with bombs of ear drums

i would fight

to give a spot to everyone

in God’s angelic choir

if the sacred morning dew

can forgive me

for not being wide awake

in baptizing my sinful state

in the worldly river of life

reason being i was up all night

marching behind my sisters and brothers

blinded by the poisoned dark

with intent to guide them out

of their imposed upon madness

or if the maidens of the light

would prefer to bring me back

i would want to be

a lightning bolt

looking to correct

the wicked negatives of the cold hard ground

with the positives in the celestial clouds

to quench the crops of kindness

that are drying out

yet in all honesty

i’d be more than content

to come back as a rainbow colored bubble

making some kid laugh

half hearted

/ mbrazfieldm / 6 Comments

violet sky soft feather wind

on shore at the foot of the valley

cactus tufts where birds will nest

upon the arrival of the spring

i like the granules of sand

monochromatic browns and blacks

the tiny pebbles silent lay

in them frozen codes of time

and how i got to be here

in a universe so universal

bowing my head

mantra in brain

sacred sounds surround the plains

my thoughts interrupted

as a dusty Slurpee cup blows by

let me count the ways

/ mbrazfieldm / 11 Comments
pic by mbrazfield (c) 2019

life you have this annoying way of walking by as i’m trying to see a point of view prescribed by a cold and sterile man

take today for instance i’m just whistling by on my way to the corners pungent with wet filth and frothy with human madness

every prophet will eventually go back to her house yet i am neither saint nor prophet but just a sinner looking for faith

here in front of me stands the place where we yes you my soul conscience and mind dwindled childhood away waiting for the unknown without fear bloated with arrogance