love songs

/ mbrazfieldm / 2 Comments

those songs sweet piano notes the ones sung by Adele hurt the most as they remind me of what dad did to mom

those words from boisterous guys showing off on bended knee their devotion perfection and digits of currency in worship of me will someday soon turn lethal

those men with delusions of being the righteous new species from Adam came and it won’t change that they are internally afraid of what their daddy did to their momma

from time unknown we flow and go turning around in circles a pull a push in darkness beams and the light sometimes is not that clear

even tears give up before our heart when we slip into children playing dress up me mommy’s shoes you daddy’s boots the familiarity of violence

time does not heal no matter how much it says in the public service announcement the warning signs the stacking cans of fire water rage combustion on music notes the peaceful hoax of love everlasting

urban meadow blues

/ mbrazfieldm / 2 Comments

meadows i see on the packages in the lady business aisle of my regular supermarket

when i was young and high living the downtown life meadows were tucked twixt the words of John Fante

on crowded freeways i imagine meadows green with polka dot flowers instead of beer bottles and trash

i too have stood on meadows ignoring reality when news and accounts have been grim

on the meadows of my mind while i stand in line waiting for my time with the speed ticket money taker i swear i have been a Hopi princess

meadows in the park constructed from repurposed everything that underserves the very point of wild God created freeform and bear in mind your parking meter too

not feeling well

/ mbrazfieldm / 6 Comments

sleep cradles me im on the lawn black rolled towel holds my neck im tired the train screams and my eyes pop open i get the sensation of German mustard on my tongue and think of mother we called her by her name an extra insurance policy of disconnection although i never knew what she really felt then the Pantry floats about memories of standing in line on Figueroa at the mouth of downtown when downtown was a city there are signs lights most unnatural sports sports drinks sell sell sell dont think dont think dont think i saw a man in Victoria’s Secret robes worn out of poverty then im tired no more then im angry again defeated and dissected from my nature patches of this and that round off the frustrations of seeing this world pass by falling into abyss and in all my time i have done nothing

that ruthless city

/ mbrazfieldm / 2 Comments

if a trail could be found to his beating heart it would be through his ears

the sounds of giant groaning flares flying moons shooting stars music of the cosmos

my voice is not a song it merely croaks and moans steeped in manly brick and mortar

inside the blinding glare of chiming heavenly beings are lively rays displaying all

down to his change cup inside the saxophone case on the shadow washed asphalt somewhere in that ruthless city