adentro

mirror in my eyes

i haven’t seen in years

there’s been a silent blindness

blocking off my sight

the heart she braces

my inward glance

poppies gold and red

flicker in the wind

a lock of tender hair

across my face

a smile greets the come what may

pupil to pupil reflecting back

truths in simplicity

in preparation

time sits on the shelves
next to all the dreams
just an index finger’s length
out of reach
her side of the wall
sustains the portraiture
of her bloodline
his side the world’s articles of hate
never knowing of each other
going about their life
the wall that separates them both
in between the unseen darkness waits for them
patiently there void of light
and when that time marches from its sitting place again
to guide their souls into the other world
the ego skin from them will finally be shed

someone’s snapshot

who might this stranger be

he stares into my eyes

              i’m as sure as one day i will die

that i will never meet him in the flesh

                  there   see  in the stillness

Of his shot   all of the grays blacks and whites

        the wrinkles on his face

          i imagine hold a code of his life in microcosm

just for me to read      the glance it tells tales

      of other places so far away that those skies are of an undiscovered blue

         and his smile it fills me with mooshiness inside

               because i feel the fibers of his soul

     rough on the surface but softer as you deeper go

    and when he touches a petal or waves or strums a cord

         i too can touch wave and strum internally

                     is that what it means to live

available but not to you

mbrazfieldm (c) 2020

your expectations wants demands tactics tricks and commands are just a mirage
i too can do unto others but i choose not to i am at the disposal of my mind heart and soul exclusively
i break barriers and ceilings with the ultra sonic boom of my love quietly in the middle of time and my shed tears turn into diamonds
from my breast i nourish innocents the army of all
with a turn of my fingers i knit the cloth to shield innocents from the darkness of your claws

for Chester and Chris

it had been there
just around the corner
behind my left shoulder blade

it stayed through threshold
of the neo natal dawn
new like a kitten’s innocent purr

it was there quiet
like the other side of the edge
of that one last breath

it was there like Los Angeles smoke
silent thick cryptic with danger
then it showed itself to the mirror
of my soul

it moved as a molasses crescendo
choking me
too many door knobs closets
reminders silent distant
but hard hitting cold blade
walk past the hall red couch
sit i do heaved tear monsoons
afraid no more an impossible miracle
chest tight bruised palms
from the terror

vetting contingency plans of how not to let it loose

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

seed of pulp

melodies melt through the creamy walls

the night hot

the asphalt angry almost boiling

the sizzle of her heel

i can hear it

she comes near

the steps bend soft like wax

up she floats

i can almost see her

dressed in spicy orange

moist with musks

muffled stomps rushed then slowed

he stops

i can’t hear the locks

but i know he’s turning them

like a perky breast

almost rolling the knob

on the tips of his fingers

that smell like Cuban cigar

Hollywood is burning tonight

we sweat wilt run into our mattress

it doesn’t matter

the chords are taught

the hydras groan at him

from her fake jeweled throat

he has to convince a beautiful beast

that if she stays for a few hours

he can be more of a man

than he is now

bottles cheap dusty and old

like his hands

her purse sags from cheap makeup

and the volume of her in between tears

Hollywood has burned before and yet it rises

nothing novel in any of our eyes

now a cricket here

a dog bark farther

a few clicks on my type writer

the sun is coming up

i too swig from my dusty vials

threesome

moon peeks slowly orange glow beautiful at two in the morning

we inebriated on thoughts on old angers and accusations

moon she shows cleavage through silks and laces tailored for her by the Venus

we savage with our voice one fist raised above the other torn lapels teary eyes your cut knuckles my need to run

moon swells enormous pregnant by the Mars no weeping in her labor she knows how to raise the stars

we impassioned and raged swell in our erotic locations kissing negotiations the climax nears the horizon

moon wanes with satisfied relief and the pinkest carnal flush

doulas

sand dunes gray breathing quietly the wind caresses smiles on them like new born babies

those who witnessed the sunrise shiver slightly humming and blessing the horizon their hands usher a new voice

mothers with strong courageous hearts the most sacred foundation for the tiny roots to rise

washing off the stubborn stains of ignorance and calcified time

paving plowing and clearing paths where God and water there do clash and angels become mothers