there is a blue bird vagabond
some say bad motherfucker
stepping strong
others have yet to hear
how he chirps to those songs
of old Lou Reed
soft spoken when he chews on the worm
self imposed exile
in the cage forged from fleeting truths
decoy soul within the vulture kettle
there is a blue bird wanderer
hopping from dream to dream
pecking at the hollow of his heart
in hopes of softening the cruel stare
of abandoned turtledoves
she called herself Magda she had eyes deep tawny green like a bamboo forest the skin around them sagged like the last morsels of dried cocoon from an emerging Monarch she whispered into my face her breath sour like piss and beer and roses cheap potpurri she taxed me with guessing her age my mind trembling i smiled and raised my 10 fingers gesturing three times Magda was tickled so much so that she asked the two weird sisters in her head if I could live with them she was ageless her face wrinkled like an old walnut at the bottom of the bin cheeks rouged brick red lips purple brows rubbed off in time by constant fists and bumps Magda looks across Vermont Ave the pigeons coo in echo
the thoughts of the sounds you make your face in pain your eyes ash gray grow like wild honey suckle vines outward from the insides of my composting heart
look she says can i get a break today my blood borrowed by thirteen murder scenes lined up coming from my vocal chords ready for the gate to fall
i know the demons they feed well from me the prescription don’t eat before the range or you’re gonna get rotted rice and peas rolling down your caved in chest
the elders said before you were set free to the prison this would be caution daughter and sons your fathers were heavy into maleficent fun be advised that their sins you’ll be liquidating
we both tired and bored
then i’d ask where she was born
somewhere she said
but im not really sure
i want to tell you
she smoked then got up
to get a frozen tamale
from a dirty plate
in the moldy microwave
guilt and sin falling
from her face
like bombed out plaster
he joined the conversation
when she and i silenced
midwifing her and me into
a new set of unasked and unanswered questions
we all three sat there smoking
drinking diet cokes sniffing the air
she rasped i need another drag
as
ive
aged
everyone
now
understands
me
and
i
weep
for
us
all
i want to breathe your
pain in kiss it til it’s gone
i want to sell my
soul in exchange for
the burning to dissipate
and close the sores of
time that festering
have stolen away beauty
from your spirit’s light
hey it’s me
walking the street
mid day time
end of summer
meteopolitan smoggy air
how are you
maestro viejito hermoso
noticed he’d fallen
sweet weeping child
or is it
you haunting me
either way i
need to say
there’s thunder sobbing
up from throat
in the sudden
downs of life
he sits there
back to me
but back when
i sat there
too stoned to
hide my face
there is no
art in suffering
beauty estranged in
white soiled nothingness
grace crosses street
no one to
touch his shoulder
thoughts of succumbing to the poison of slow kill the truth imparted at the exit of the womb how with what today can we be expected to delay decay when systems continue to thrive on the dander of ignorance it’s becoming unbearable tick tock
during the given 72 hours she will unscrew the wings from her back and hope the breeze will take her
on the Vin it is recalled those summer nights high on poppy brown smiles and warmth
when in the past oh how she misses discovering the awe in the hand of God when the orange peel was made to dry in the sun
https://www.instagram.com/wordslessspoken7.0?igsh=OGQ5ZDc2ODk2ZA==
the darkness is back i tripped my load was heavy and i trembled the darkness is there behind the curtains in my things in my mind the darkness cool calm and causing a vortex of loathing into my self the darkness i hear you but i’ve got to get up now i don’t want them to know
words less spoken 