scars

February 17, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 9 Comments

i want to kiss your scars

but because i am not a siren

with shapely hips and meaty mouth

to give you drink of goddess wine

i cannot have your lips

i want to kiss the scars

left in your eyes as she robbed you of your light

let my tiny spark as weak as it may be

polish the lens of your outlook

of better days to come

i want to kiss your scars

savor one second of your misery

turning my back on a million days of paradise

so long as you are with me

beloved, i want to wash her painful

judgments from your ears

and pray the angels speak to you

from God’s own soothing verse

i want to kiss your scars

the ones thickly padded on your knees

and with my dreadful feeble arms lift you from yourself

to watch you walk away so as you travel

i can see the scars that i may kiss

Oh! your tired back

and gift you with my humble blood

to enrich your waxing path

i want to kiss your scars

and stop the hemorrhaging of your heart’s capacity

to hope

and with my graceless ugly hands nurse it back

birth a brave new rhythm

knowing that this heart of yours

will never sing for me

i want to kiss your scars

and make you king

while my tired trembling mind will unravel them

one after the other

and let the Moon

in her magic and love

dress you in her finest garb

i want to feel you soar

my love

with wings of gods ascended to Heaven

and as my temple fades away into the caverns of the lost

in your cloak of scars i’ll lay

knowing that you are whole again

a Psalm redux

February 2, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / Leave a comment

it’s come to pass
that a heart has exploded,
and for the sake of the hypocrite
sloppily taped back together again.

as though the trees no longer care
i look through the steps we took
one time and then two. brutal are your ways
delivered with most foreign warmth.

how can a Buddhist kill?
how can a Christian save?
someone say something
of meaning and strength.

but i am too of tree and
not clay. i hang there in the dry
woodsy field swaying from the
trunk. uprooted and weak.

did you meet Eve or Adam
at least? God cast a spell
and put me to sleep.
give me an ally someone i can see…

maafa

January 27, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / 18 Comments

so here you are, night.
i asked for you in anger;
i cursed your name, called you God damned.
i thought that i could shoot your blackness in the veins,
to seize the pain in the soul.
in my selfishness i forgot,
i forgot that the sorrow’s spoon is too big
to boil you down.

oh soothing night,
how your wicked hands do prick me
with the needles of our thoughts,
so dirty and despondent.

i beg, i kneel and writhe away,
but he cannot hear
an atheist to our sleepy weakling
of a love.

whispers and tiredness travels through us
you are here my dreary night
our grave our hole our life.

angels broken praise

January 13, 2019 / mbrazfieldm / Leave a comment

in time the patch
roughens and flakes away
leaving a badge to remember
the lesson learned.

while not being ready yet,
choosing to fly won’t help
the break. alone in the canyon
a river dwindled and the
holy caves yawned forth.

a taxi stops around the corner
of time’s middle age;
insurance forms and medic aid
now fill the noons.

beauty is cold and superficial.
the birds are dead but stones
still keep the souls
of the soldiers kept in compounds.

the corridors bleed open.
the history a waste.
to hear the lonely aging,
to see them in my wake.

a closing unto open air;
the swallows make a nest.
the river thickens with the garbage
of angels’ broken praise.