conditional love

i guess i’ll see you

3 am works for me too

when you get here

climb into bed

shock my soul awake

with your cold hands

gunmetal lips upon my neck

your left knee shucking

my reluctant legs open

we say a few false words

we disagree on stupid things

and we pretend that we are civil

when all we are

when all we have been

are two wild and seething animals

needing to get fucked

to release pain and rejection

and forget the wars that we have fought

why are we so afraid

you even more so than me

why do you come here

what could i possibly offer

that you haven’t already had

from better women

is it my cunning

my tortured soul

my soldier mentality

or my willingness

to be your whore

in your world

i am nothing

you are king

in my world

you still don’t know

i exist and i laugh

at the complexity

of your thoughts

and your offerings

your confusion as to who

i am

let me tell you who i’m not

unlike the others

i will not play a part

you can’t dress me up

change how i breath

what i smoke what i drink

i

will

not

follow you around

send you love letters

or get a manicure

you want your cock sucked

you know i’m game

and like a good little baller

you know how i play

before the tantric show you want

i need to feel your collateral in me

bite me squeeze me hold me down and tease me

i won’t look into your eyes

because that’s when our problems start

the hearts start beating

like they’re one

and then you go and leave me

for Virgie

by the river

there’s a path

i bring her

coffee in the

morning and tell

her what the

day will task

at road’s end

i find her

home with little

dead flowers by

the door of

her secret world

no one sees

her no one

knows there are

many others that

walk through it

alone and never

say a single word

they smile and

sing and pray

the most melodious

and magic noises

from two toothless

lips do come

the black sparkle

in her eyes

uplifts the sting

in my own

pain as she

croons just for

me darlin’ never

lose your light

contrition

Indeed, it is very rare when I can feel the stillness of my spirit. It is a wild one. It thrives on diving off the highest cliffs of life and relishes the feeling of narrowly avoiding the jagged rocks of human pain below. I feel her today. She sits next to me silently caressing the gold of the elusive clear horizon.

Thoughts of worry flood me every so often. Will the stillness leave us causing my spirit to tear my natural peace a sunder? It has been much too long before I had the courage to go on my own. To walk away from the safety of the rock solid artificial happiness was terrifying. I did not want to wander in the depth of dark waters for so many years more.

the day dream

the news comes and goes

laughing children noises

frame the window to a past

that has no terrible value

perhaps I should leave it to the dawn

The time for the appointment is here. I have made a commitment to go outside today. How I wish I was  in Big Sur with him. He loved me how I was, but I didn’t love myself. Do I love myself now, I wonder? I laugh a little. The water hushes me and I smile. His shoulders wide and strong, my disease and madness a little stronger. It’s not that he abandoned me, it’s just that he believed in freedom. I believed that my sickness was an entitlement worth dying for.

my way…

indeed it is very rare when i can feel the stillness of my spirit it is a wild one it thrives on diving off the highest cliffs of life and relishes the feeling of narrowly avoiding the jagged rocks of human pain below i feel her today she sits next to me silently caressing the gold of the elusive clear horizon

thoughts of worry flood me every so often will the stillness leave us causing my spirit to tear my natural peace a sunder it has been much too long before i had the courage to go on my own to walk away from the safety of the rock solid artificial happiness was terrifying i did not want to wander in the depth of dark waters for so many years more

the day dream

the news comes and goes

laughing children noises

frame the window to a past

that has no terrible value

perhaps i should leave it to the dawn

the time for the appointment is here i have made a commitment to go outside today how i wish i was  in Big Sur with him he loved me how i was but i didn’t love myself do i love myself now wonder i laugh a little the water hushes me and i smile his shoulders wide and strong my disease and madness a little stronger it’s not that he abandoned me it’s just that he believed in freedom i believed that my sickness was an entitlement worth dying for

Photo by Sue Vincent

Quotable Poe Week Two-M. Brazfield

thank you Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen

Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen

God and serpent’s urgent staff meeting

hey i have been crazy

insane raving mad

for a very long time

lunacy in my heart

mind untouched

by Your lamentations

free will i heard You say

i hid behind the tree

to bring down Your precious creation

ha

he fell for it with ease

the girl well the girl

what can i say mere little rib

it really wasn’t her fault

the fruit forbidden

say it so

c’mon i know

it wasn’t really wrong

was it

not at all

no You just wanted

quiet little baa baa sheep

now about the girl

perhaps You were a bit

too swift

in punishing the children

wasn’t a life long

union with the that lad You made enough

a violet fig leaf cloak was that all

that he could muster

in Your image but not Your cunning

oh ho ho i beg to differ

the…

View original post 143 more words

photo

the alley is dark puddles glimmer in the moon light the cats are purple and there are no children running round tonight that is good there in the distance yellow cars the sons of Pharaoh speak of plans and smoke Camels i float on Broadway toward the Bradbury she is extra tall tonight the ground in front mottled with ancient gum i’m sure Marilyn Monroe spit out a piece the Santeria store next to the Million Dollar venerable church it is i like the dried deer eyes keeps the bad ju ju at bay trust me my ju ju is bad like Samuel L i really dig how the street has evolved and greasy pipes are now historical society protected by town decree thank goodness i love hipsters but i need my bacon real there’s a few street dwellers by tunnel they wave hello in unison hey baby u got a cigarette and i says no brother not today have a nice night and be blessed the buses bloated with emptiness flickering lights and Mountain Dew bottles on the driver’s dash

shroud

shroud

window at dusk

clove cigarette

clings between wet lips

diet coke

dangerously close to keyboard

sad tired eyes

the color of gypsy moss

blood trickles

from her nose

at times

thoughts bounce

like dandelion pappi

blown from the tiny lips of babes

and at times

an invisible pang

slightly electrically melancholic

in the middle of the chest

looking down to see

how people such as we

just all wander

on Spring street

she thinks with slightly damaged brain

do they see as i see

she feels the wounds of the mistaken

and soothes the misguided vigor of the innocent

the sweet sweat of gardenias

distract the ghost

locked in her heart

life becomes less ordinary

and so she sits to write

out the fabric of her soul

libertin lâche

kiss my cheek

lie to me

mercy given tonight

losing something

not mine

Sweet poison

sweet poison

one dishonest caress

i know

you’ll run

to her

raven beauty

young supple

mind big tits

and designer smile

it’s ok

i play the game

i’m banging

the green eyed philosopher

on Wilcox place

can we just be honest

it’s ok for me to say

i like sex

it’s ok

for you to have lady friends

as long were all cool with it

and take responsibility

of not spreading germs

or making sweet babies

to suffer in vain

i know i started off nice

life is not nice

but we can be nice

if that’s what we want

the philosopher knows

you know about him

it’s ok if you bring her

i like your touch a lot

love is for others

but not for my heart

4th grade

red sun walks down toward the water

little flecks of black move to and fro

it just birds ushering her red highness

to her nocturnal resting place

when i was a kid the other kids laughed

when i drew a picture of soft round hills

and the sun with long red locks and sea shell pink lips

they said the hills looked like asses

and my sun looked like a witch

i don’t recall feeling anything in particular

i just left the class and walked away

and now that i’m grown up

that memory comes and goes

and i wonder what happened to those kids

with no imagination at all

civics

I’d been as dry as the moon. My pimply friend from PE class dared me. I didn’t last very long, maybe four days. Sobriety week was excruciatingly strange. My da went to jail and my mom had to bail him out with the mortgage payment. I didn’t witness this first hand, my uncle told me when he came looking for me at the Cecil.

Gjeo found me at Spare Cock’s. He greeted us with two of his brothers from the motor club. My uncle was liberal in his way of thinking. By that I mean women didn’t belong in the kitchen all the time; they could move about the house, preferably topless and in heels.

His Portuguese tongue stroked out for a few moments. Gjeo I suspected had never encountered a woman like Spare Cock. Tall, chocolaty, muscular, blond hair and with scrotum duct taped into her inner thigh.  He stared at Spare Cock and Brother Gertrude while they were snorting lines. Gjeo’s eyes shifted from the tomfoolery in the room back to me.

Until this day, I haven’t figured out how he found me. I was getting sloppy but maybe I didn’t give a shit. I was hallucinating and trembling. He called me out to the hallway. It was the way he said ‘Grady’ that made me feel like bad news was coming, but with the imminent heard of pink elephants with faces like Leonard Nimoy, I wasn’t too concerned.

In his 60’s biker boy lingo he told me that my pops had gotten picked up and that my mom didn’t want to bail him out. Blah, blah, blah slow motion in my ears. I was getting buried beneath the waters of slow decomposing withdrawal at 16.

My eyebrows were raised and my bottom lip curled back into my mouth. Then I’d look into the walls, real far away like. We made small talk and then he grabbed my wrist. I think I pulled away real hard and said I wasn’t going to my mom’s place. He looked at me. The hazel pity darts pierced me through. He had labeled me as a “poor little thing.”

He turned his head to the left a bit and then cracked his neck like a Sicilian Don. He pointed at me with his left hand and forced a whisper through his aging teeth. He ordered me home by the next morning. I asked him why I had to leave. I didn’t hear what I wanted to be told. Instead he said that no blood of his was going to be holed up in a rats nest with fags and… before he could blurt it out I punched him right in the neck. I was pretty short.

Things were never the same between us. But I was never the same either. Briefly, I experienced a moment of clarity. I felt my values and what I would tolerate or not. I loved my uncle, but I too loved Amos no matter who she was.

my way…

i’d been as dry as the moon my pimply friend from PE class dared me i didn’t last very long maybe four days sobriety week was excruciatingly strange my da went to jail and my mom had to bail him out with the mortgage payment i didn’t witness this first hand my uncle told me when he came looking for me at the Cecil.

Gjeo found me at Spare Cock’s he greeted us with two of his brothers from the motor club my uncle was liberal in his way of thinking by that i mean women didn’t belong in the kitchen all the time they could move about the house preferably topless and in heels

his Portuguese tongue stroked out for a few moments Gjeo i suspected had never encountered a woman like Spare Cock tall, chocolaty, muscular, blond hair and with scrotum duct taped into her inner thigh he stared at Spare Cock and Brother Gertrude while they were snorting lines Gjeo’s eyes shifted from the tomfoolery in the room back to me

until this day i haven’t figured out how he found me i was getting sloppy but maybe i didn’t give a shit i was hallucinating and trembling he called me out to the hallway it was the way he said ‘Grady’ that made me feel like bad news was coming but with the imminent heard of pink elephants with faces like Leonard Nimoy i wasn’t too concerned

in his 60’s biker boy lingo he told me that my pops had gotten picked up and that my mom didn’t want to bail him out blah, blah, blah slow motion in my ears i was getting buried beneath the waters of slow decomposing withdrawal at 16

my eyebrows were raised and my bottom lip curled back into my mouth then i’d look into the walls real far away like we made small talk and then he grabbed my wrist i think i pulled away real hard and said i wasn’t going to my mom’s place he looked at me the hazel pity darts pierced me through he had labeled me as a “poor little thing”

he turned his head to the left a bit and then cracked his neck like a Sicilian Don he pointed at me with his left hand and forced a whisper through his aging teeth he ordered me home by the next morning i asked him why i had to leave i didn’t hear what i wanted to be told instead he said that no blood of his was going to be holed up in a rats nest with fags and… before he could blurt it out i punched him right in the neck i was pretty short

things were never the same between us but i was never the same either briefly I experienced a moment of clarity i felt my values and what i would tolerate or not i loved my uncle but i too loved Amos no matter who she was

Becca’s ballad

yeah i’m still at the Gold Digger bar

past 4 am i party hard

slammin’ vodka laughin’ loud

jeans dirty scratched up arms

cigarettes all crushed and ground to the ground

i wear sweat socks with my heals

my man left me for a smack smoking whore

i’m pissed as hell and i don’t know my name

the welfare office cut off my game

during the day i beg for change

and once a month i take three trains

only to have my kids’ foster mom

cancel again

my daddy whupped me and put me on the streets

my momma left him but didn’t take me in

and the clean women from the west side

got a cold fire in their heart

at least my babies are fed

and i’m not crawlin’ on my knees

i guess i lost the social worker bet

the cops they picked me up on Tuesday

they said i was running in the street naked

i ran out of my calming pills

and my doctor said no more refills

it’s ok i understand my face’s a little dirty

my skin is really tan

the boils on my face

kinda’ turn you off

but it’s fine by me

my God above keeps watch

your stinging words against me

are flowers in my crown

i know my kids will grow up strong

and i did the best i could

the court judge calls me unresponsive

a cruel and evil ma’

he don’t know what happened

in Kentucky when i was a baby child

but it’s ok at least I have some common sense

i’d rather let my babies live

than drag them down with me

i never done nothin’ right in life

but i give thanks for my strength

and take pride in the pain