holes of my salvation army

mbrazfieldm (c) 2024

i don’t want to be a Neruda love poem girl
i want my thoughts to be admired like the turquoise gold around the throat of a hummingbird
i don’t want a boy to be my knight in anything shiny valiant or stunning
i want him to see the blaze inside me through the holes of my Salvation Army black jeans

time my only mother

time you have been my mother
a neutral righteous witness teacher priestess
self infliction my addictions there you stood
clocking the hemorrhaging of life
you not a crying virgin
me not a prodigal child
time your love is always tough
heavy handed in my thoughts
wasted in my inner voice
you continue to birth me
unto gray colored spectacle
time a savage fighter woman mother
slowly through your passing hands
do i learn to howl with pulsing throat
all of my passion all of my rage
you guide me through this valley
in front underneath above and behind
the shadow of man
where i sit betrothed
to another day of tumultuous blessing

woman i love you

mbrazfield (c) 2024

i see you in the car
on my feet
the bus
city streets
poetry in your
wrinkled hands
forehead and jowls
the news of your town
your home and world
raw through your glare
i love you deeply
from afar like you
definitely more
sometimes
your hair the roots
and crown of
the frame of you
patient like the Ruth
wisdom in your step
woman don’t look at me
untethered daughter
i reach for the hem
of your overwhelmingly
heavy garment
i worship you a cruel goddess
only because you love deeply
and lose infinitely
your cracked toe nails
calloused to defeat
finger nails ready for the meet
we have always been running
you have always been creating
woman i love you from afar

struggling with love

ive reduced life to see and keep
watching those outside of me
wandering through the forests of the street
i wandering but knowing my truth
keeping in time with the breath of us
i walk watch look down and teach
myself to bury it all in
like the subway at five
the scents of dust and gasoline
transport me to my early youth and years
when primordial rules of procreation haunted my womb
but there were no takers in the battle
as nights unraveled in perplexity
and days ended in sullen tragedy
no options left amid the fields of nothingness
now a mother to my years i orphaned most of them
walking away from normalcy into the mouth of modern beast who struggles with love for me