processing. l
Abandonment
tarmac
moving on
night is here thank the heavens
your face in my mind quiet and rough
your hands calloused from life
your breath with no warmth
language rusted in your throat
the times are changing a Dylan song
you’d hum on your side of the room
i was not unique enough to worship
your love the accolades of poets
smithing words then catapulted into skies
to let the satellite cast your ego widely
and now we’re old but i not enough yet
the patina of good living never tarnished me
i too have a room no satellite just memory
no accolades just words fertile with thoughts to be
care to digress
buk,
i
think of
you today
it was tough
her screams
biting at my ears
meant for him
and her
and them
the whole lot
maybe Jesus too
buk,
the women around here
but who knew
i’m a woman too
born and bruised
and i don’t have a clue
but then again i was her
a long time ago
her hands jingling
her bling about
like falling feathers
from the boxing ducks
at MacArthur park
little waist
banded by Calvin Ks
why do us tough girls always dress like thugs?
mother issues grab her tissues
here come the waterworks
you’d say
buk, dude
work was hard today
the LA streets
me at her teat
this grimy Goddamned city
as she shared
about the girls she had
and the guys she fucked
all in a litany of blows and scars
her brothers left on her
mother called it teaching her the ropes
buk, i pray to you
were women like this
back when?
or has politics and Hollywood
fooled us?
broken afraid her fists she raised
fragile steel jaw
little girl unspoken
tender where she should be strong
she weeps over her barrettes
her brother broke when she was four
not about the busted lip
her lover gave her
or the county checks that can’t support her and her only child
buk, how can i counsel
when i haven’t been
consoled myself?
an appointment
all he wants is mother
cool hair dark shades
crip color representative
who can never go back
eyes black soul pale
little child lost
on his neck and throat
over his hands and arms
details of alternative
birth certificate needled
in prison ink
the grimace a schizophrenic pull
dear boy who smiles for me
and cheeks contort
to hide the tears
of anger and pain
a story unraveled
habit
in the passing of the sun behind your painted glass eyes i wish i could sleep in trust of your seasoned strong arms but there around the bend of the sweet words in your throat awaits the anger of us both as you ebb and i flow out far past the horizon of the outermost still in the days ahead of us we vibrate alone longing for a reading of our minds we touch each others’ beating of our hearts in monumental silence
a Teslaian haiku
that twinkle bursts west
the sea’s reflection lends her
electricity
intertwined are we
intertwined are we
today was hard
my black sister
drunken on the
couch where life
grabs hold and
won’t let go
intertwined are we
me in my sea
of clinical tricks
to pluck the
splinter from your
broken shattered heart
intertwined are we
today we sparred
my yellow sister
sad and lost
sick of it
all you cry
within your soul
me with idiot
pen instructing you
to just sign
here and here
intertwined are we
my dear brown
sis your laughter
hides the rage
of voices in
your head tormenting
the peace from
your inner self
i can only
smile and praise
your strength knowing
that tomorrow night
there’s a chance
your spirit dies
intertwined are we
the nights linger
like the cigarette
on your busted
lips quivering from
meth and shame
from the time
of birth til
the time of
death you walk
in the weave
of that shadow
in that valley
the good book
warns us about
i follow your
stride into the
caves of the
damned you hoping
i go away
i knowing that
this was my
launching place before
intertwined are we
discarded
the clouds layered gray
throughout this day
watching coupled hands clasped in love
tender are their eyes
looking forward to a future
who won’t surrender to their whims
the old ones long ago bereft of their lover
look the other way
words less spoken 