4th

/ mbrazfieldm / 11 Comments

gold line passes through there

four tribes meet and they have been for longer than i can ever know

one Meso one Afro one Europe one Orient peoples beautiful all

same hearts one dream different strokes same same same

the bridge is there she lays on her mighty back we cross not just concrete slabs but worlds too

colors flavors scents labor dignity and the human ego of course

united by segregation of their color segregated from each other by being throw an occasional bone starving of their soul

but upon closer honest sober observation on days of rainbows i can see where the tears are stitched to form the Nation where i stand

we are Los Angeles

riots marches torn down houses strikes children centers Lakers unity churches merchants Mexican chop suey Columbian Korean fusion Woody’s ribs Lupe’s tacos Italian house Red Hot Chili Peppers surfers boarders models ballers

the four directions on the 4th street bridge and what it’s come to be and what we’ve become by it is the rainbow children of our Lady

so before the Hall keepers House gablers blues reds and judge and juries request your seats mind and remember

Porciuncula and her kids do lead and ever will this vast kaleidoscope table

carnations are pink

/ mbrazfieldm / 4 Comments

in my kitchen calico lady cat yawns at the sunny rays piercing the window

she don’t like tuna a real nut job of a cat

my coffee’s ready four cubes and half and half we engage eyes the cat and i

she stretches ten feet long including freshly sharpened claws on the leg of the velvet black couch

i concede she’s the queen i drink coffee smokey creamy good i think of a certain lover of long ago

the cat she knows my thoughts i blush a little her pupils broaden at my joyful shame

my memories entwined with coffee steam like my lover’s clumsy breath descending on my bright pink mound

to miss not the sensation but the act of being held for a few moments by a pair of hungry arms

sensing the melancholy seeping in the cat meows at me asking that we share a glance out the window

my carnations had bloomed again after a long blue winter

it’s cool old dude

/ mbrazfieldm / Leave a comment

were both off you know

drunk wild seed spreader

we met in combat always

we tried i still remember the porky pigs and bugs bunnies your fellow inmates drew when you sent letters from jail

twisted twisted twisted we became one old soul one fallen angel

it’s late now you a legend i’ll leave it there

it’s ok i’ve found others to take your place then they betrayed me too

ha! trust you say i have none not even for me

i needed a daddy maybe in another life i was something wicked and i deserved you or maybe it was the other way around

you hurt me a hurt so so deep that i don’t know how to let God in

but it’s ok i can walk talk think and take a bath i can breath laugh and when they least expect it maybe even love a little

i really needed you father when i went ape shit and almost took my life ok ok a few times

just like mom always the corrector

you tried and thanks for letting me be your father

if i was a guy i wouldn’t be a good husband but i love kids so maybe i’ve been my own dad at my age i’m still confused my time line shattered

it’s ok we did what we could i can drive monster trucks shoot guns and know basic boxing moves

thanks daddy that makes me cool

i’ve got to go now we hurt each other

your legacy was tough to carry and since then i have tweaked it a bit

maybe today i will be my own mirror

threesome

/ mbrazfieldm / 30 Comments

moon peeks slowly orange glow beautiful at two in the morning

we inebriated on thoughts on old angers and accusations

moon she shows cleavage through silks and laces tailored for her by the Venus

we savage with our voice one fist raised above the other torn lapels teary eyes your cut knuckles my need to run

moon swells enormous pregnant by the Mars no weeping in her labor she knows how to raise the stars

we impassioned and raged swell in our erotic locations kissing negotiations the climax nears the horizon

moon wanes with satisfied relief and the pinkest carnal flush

la times unplugged

/ mbrazfieldm / 11 Comments

it used to be that brown or black eyes were the abysmal of magical beauty and blues were sparkling pools of Narcissus’ soul staring back at me today i walk slow aimlessly sipping pretending to be comfortable and care free but it’s only procrastination to my left bumper stickers promising green utopia for all to my right oceans deep with human carnage strewn and labeled social crisis the caucused trumped up rallies won’t heal my broken brothers and if i’m not careful the depth of my wavering human decency could quickly shallow up

non sequitur zoo

/ mbrazfieldm / 5 Comments

go to the junction where the crow caws and feel like coffee grounds are sacred don’t trample them with emotional support gobblers in the wind do you think pterodactyls clucked the motor is stuck in the mud skipper makes no whistling rattles die they steal watermelon slices from the post man in Cairo i don’t think so but Henrietta will investigate the portfolios of one hundred gazelles with tiny hooves drilling and crunching across the moss that could potentially grow in the Sahara over by the airport where the sea gulls screech holding up old ladies for their drinks pigeons collect the Groupon deals cooing at the seams of insanity

womb

/ mbrazfieldm / 5 Comments

good morning mother i’m inside of your womb this is

the first time that i’ve noticed it it’s blue with

gray cotton candy covering father Sun drenches me with Holy

Light and spindly arms grow strong my legs regenerated it feels good to be