In Memorium

yes i’m a country lover dressed in a Ramones tshirt and i dont give a damn

/ mbrazfieldm / 11 Comments

my mom liked country music

i wasn’t sure what to make of it

born in a mecca of diversity as far as the blind eye could see

race segregation economics roach versus beetle infestations

but country was white blues i felt

Johnny Cash praised God like Rev. Gary Davis would

Dolly and Kenny brought joy to my mom and her kibbutzi sisterhood

Willie and Kenny transported a 7 year old pig tailed little girl to another America while on various road trips with the acquaintance to those angels

there has never been any doubt my drum is not only different but off as well

i can’t say that life made me this way but here i am

my thoughts have never been linear and yes i like it hard

music people music

not necessarily in volume but in soul Patsy i’m still in love

with our heartache our diverging dreams

you fell to pieces and i preferred to cut

piano bars mosh pit stops jazz hangouts agape screams i love them all the same

and every now and again when it all gets insane i remind myself that all diversified complications still carry the same twang

RIP Gambler 🃏

can’t figure out

/ mbrazfieldm / 5 Comments

why we dream so distantly where the planets question who we are

black holes surrender in perplex look at each other in their deep blue eye

and say forget them

could be that in Tennessee my heart i left there beating

nature are you a conscience forcing me to look at the destruction of the muffler in my car

this morning she a strange lady clutched me in a surrender of half breed slumber

children screaming for their cereal and when i come to they were asking for some pop

we interrupt this program…

/ mbrazfieldm / 7 Comments

mind twisted and turned out inwardly

heart full of bewilderment

spirit dull cracked in some areas

soul as is no refunds

aware that privilege was not a commodity

we all have our crosses to bear and walls to wail upon

boundless and untethered loyalty to any attention giver

and then the sons of Adam distraught

ended a course of life

at that moment of death and rebirth

spirit began to take shape

the eyes opened the lung breathed

the palm uncurled and the mind sobered

the heart beat lips parted in silence

what do i believe

we are still here the force the pulse

the breath of God

in spite of my will or yours

we are here the ancient brick and mortar

passed through the stream of our common blood

flows in rivers of love cleaning the puddles of blood

tears we have all shed across this world

the crying game

/ mbrazfieldm / 16 Comments

i guess i have to go now

it was a pleasure meeting you if

only through letters and gigabytes

warm eyes warm smile and so much gratitude

i would have been honored to call you mother

Poetess you were a friend in spirit

you go join your loved ones and rest

write along the angels can you hear

the music of the celestial orbs

when i close my eyes shut tight

on a high rise rooftop in the fancy

part of my city i can hear it

and i dream of holding Shakespeare’s quill

perhaps Helene you can get his autograph for me

and send it on the feather of a swan

i guess i have to go now

and as you soar through the beautiful skies

you will now know all mystery

beautiful artist sweet kind friend

you leave us here where life is sometimes a game

we laugh or we cry but we are just human

be it not for souls full of light like you

who’ve touched my heart

one could say life would be intolerable

archetypes

/ mbrazfieldm / 3 Comments

those final days before his death were joyous for the both of us vanilla ice cream sundaes jack daniels at night splashing in the water breathing like fishes when your sister turned the cold garden hose on us then a five minute rain fell from the sky a rainbow above the 101 months later i would cry walking the streets of north Hollywood holding the black Kaiser helmet you wore nothing sweet to eat all the drink in the valley useless piss to me why am i still stuck my water was fire your water akin to John’s cleansing river never could i place flowers by your grave and the orange blossoms are falling down origami mornings freedom of the ride spirit of the brave old Jung cut with different scissors but we both bled the same i’m grateful the rainbow was there for you

Seth 3: Christina’s rebuke

/ mbrazfieldm / 5 Comments
Picture courtesy of Sue Vincent

the road she is cruel and with little respite

but i made it to Your house

with the help of Ruach Elohim

i can raise my knuckles to Your door

and knock to be let in

YWHW this is your daughter

the mother of the boy

who is now in your eternal care

i see his hands and eyes and smile

in the wild flowers waltzing on the ground

i traversed the firmament all this way

for You to look me in the face

and give me a reason

because i’m only Your daughter

and i don’t know anymore

did You give Abraham his bosom

from these stones that hold Your strength

my bosom is torn wide apart

forsaken forgotten and in pain

the glimmer in the joy of light

that showers Your front steps

no longer bring me comfort

YHWH

You and i know what love can be

we both sent our sons

unto the world of man

but only Your’s came back