brussel sprouts

pine table size 3 wine toned Mary Jane’s from Roebucks and Sears

chair aged and rubbed faded in all the places Sherlock Holmes would investigate

faded Levi jeans holed at the knees fixed with a Wonder Woman patch

Tupperware plate off beat psychedelic green and she sipped her hootch from fine bone China

blue eyes to me liver and onions gold chains on her cleavage and one scrambled egg on her rye toast and butter

Starsky and Hutch were fixin’ to start and those damned brussel sprouts between me and the screen

then the neighbor comes by and they both lose their minds over some CBS scandal

now is my chance i run to the trash flip up the flap and in goes the midget cabbage

and i watched my whole show practiced the Huggy Bear victory stroll while celebrating my four year old courage

demander au ciel bleu

mbrazfield (c) 2020

when my mind was little

the skyscrapers were tall

God was big too

the streets were filled

with faces strong that walked alone in my drowning dreams

the functions of my body not under my control

and when the body seasoned into what men had sought

it was as if a flock of doves had scattered from my soul

the moon was maiden too long before my birth and then was trampled on her light fallen from its grace

but today i read about a boy and trees his looking for the life that did live underneath

the soil of creation and where someday i will be

looking at the captivating blue glass crystal skies waiting for His words

🌠thanks to my friend Stephen @ https://fullbeardlit.org/2020/04/08/along-this-path-a-five-oclock-poem-by-stephen-fuller-with-audio for inspiring this offering

a christening awry

in the beginning was the word
as i unfold beneath my mother’s water
there i am suspended
in the middle of my death
beneath the water
where the all of my love
must now reside
beneath the water
and i heard the wind say
twixt the trees and the bush
and the word was with Him only
then my father spoke prickly and grotesque a gruesome eye opening
black doves in the dream led something in me to scream beneath that water
when that something of a passing breeze separated from the flesh of me
it said that the word was God
and i chose to fall back beneath that dark blue water
while upon my dubious rising
my arms stretched out
to the sinking of the sun

intervals in session

pic mbrazfield (c) 2020

the reason:

the lighthouse built in 1874 and lit the same year stood like a resplendent bride against the blue and lavender aging father sky giving her away the edge was just there one four inch move and then

the back story:

i would gulp my chocolate milk shake with my little fat legs dangling from the counter stools peering down at the green and white checker board linoleum floor

an hour before the reason:

with the wind blowing in my ear i catch a few notes of  “House of the Rising Sun” emanating from somewhere in the bowels of the tightly knit drunken biker crowd

trigger A:

child-hood memories float slowly into my head as i breathe deeply the Pall Mall smoke wafts by intermingled with the sea weedy odor from below the cliff

the back story’s back:

my mind wandered again into my mother’s ghost i loved studying her design patterns thousands of silk spools and the sequins and crystals God’s firmament in my mother’s house

smiling at Dr. Pang:

i loved to listen to my mother talk in that sophisticated German accent for most of my life she was as far away from me as the horizon i was looking at now

good Samaritan getting complicated:

a scratchy voice tore at the rice paper breeze midway he turned back to look at me and blew me a kiss as he melted into the small crowd

flat lips move at Dr. Pang:

my mother whipped me with yellow nylon rope every time she struck me on the legs thighs or torso the rope would welt up my skin and leave a red hot sting i could move but i didn’t

trigger B:

later that rainy night i awoke in the lobby from a very young age i discovered that an aching soul however would need a stronger analgesic

eclipsed mental decomposure:

i squeezed the memory out of my mind and as i removed my fingers from my eyelids a most beautiful black canopy covered the sky as diamond stars throbbed simultaneously i focused and marveled at such beauty it still causes such wonder in me to remember the night that the moon ate the dark

Dr. Pang concerned at the options:

for years i only spoke if spoken to and i kept my answers to only seven words or less i counted them i laugh about it now i was like Coppola’s Kilgore surfing through my own metaphoric napalm bombs

breakthrough perhaps:

she cut me up and sewed me back together again in her way the welts on my body were the fibers of strength that have helped me endure physical pain her harsh words were the sleeves and pant legs covering me protecting me from infinite poisonous tongues her rejection and unfair judgments were the thread holding me together when life’s sharp scissors cut into me

Sunday with Hank

pain without reason you said i understood immediately but Hank aren’t we born into this situation

forever we seek to understand is pain the ultimate secret knowledge Hank you’re there with Buddha is that what he found

women understand but in the end we are all human what’s between our legs is incidental

i’ve stood on city sidewalks on the streets you’ve lived on and everything is the same the rat race is quiet in most places

i love watching the angels downtown we are a rainbow of gray brown and black

some in the name of ethics money and pretense call it trauma or grieving or processing events

to be beat raped tortured sodomized insulted belittled ignored and cast aside drugged whipped lied to and left to die some of us in shame and lies in the most dangerous of nuclear families

Hank you’ve been away from me remember DeLongpre i used to stay there too and how many more places we have been it’s been so very long

your thoughts and absolute surrender to the madness of our lives you painted beauty in it’s natural form although it wasn’t what they thought

hey baby since you’re up there in the clouds can you ask the Main Man for me when you aren’t too busy now

if the reason for our mortal pain is so we will seek Him out