LA poems

punkroquera

/ mbrazfieldm / 6 Comments

confieso

que

soy de

corazón salvajemente inquieta

orgullosa de ser quien soy

cuando lagrimas caen de mis ojos son hielo

mi sonrisa parte piedras y mis puñaladas son de amor niña brava voladora

música que grita de mi alma volcán de las diosas manchada en esplendor negro y rojo mil banderas en el cielo

mis botas marchan así al los terrenos desconocidos para conquistar toda la sabiduría humo violento de cien civilizaciones corren en la sangre industrial con guitarras y altavoces ídolos del circulo somos dueños del espacio

mis garras sucias con pecados inocentes mi maquillaje esconde la verdad del sonido eterno rebeldía dulce universo en mi ojo verde

en la ciudad de las estrellas todos brillamos en los cartones y mansiones

mas rápido quiero velocidad arrancar mi peso y volar

con mis pulseras de plástico

tatuajes de acero

labios callados

vida

punkroquera

punkrocker

eu confesso

o que

sou de

coração descontrolado

orgulho de ser quem eu sou

quando as lágrimas caem dos meus olhos são gelo

meu sorriso parte pedras e meus esfaqueamentos são de amor voando menina corajosa

música que grita da minha alma deusas do vulcão manchadas em esplendor negro e bandeiras vermelhas mil no céu

minhas botas marcham assim para as terras desconhecidas para conquistar toda a sabedoria violenta fumaça de cem civilizações corridas no sangue industrial com guitarras e oradores ídolos do círculo nós possuímos o espaço

meus sujos com pecados inocentes minha maquiagem esconde a verdade do eterno som doce universo rebelde em meu olho verde

na cidade das estrelas, todos nós brilhamos nas caixas e mansões

mais rápido eu quero velocidade para puxar meu peso e voar

com minhas pulseiras de plastico

tatuagens de aço

lábios silenciosos

vida

punkrocker

punkrocker

confessing

what

i am a

wildly restless heart

proud to be who i am

when tears fall from my eyes  they are ice

my smile splits stones and my punches are pure love brave flying girl

music that screams from my soul volcano goddesses stained in black and red splendor a thousand flags in the sky

my boots march to unknown lands to conquer all wisdom violent smoke of a hundred civilizations run in the industrial blood with guitars and amplifiers idols of the circle we own the space

my dirty nails with innocent sins my makeup hides the truth of the eternal sound rebellious sweet universe in my green eye

in the city of stars we all shine in the boxes and mansions

faster i want speed to pull my weight and fly

with my plastic bracelets

steel tattoos

silent lips

life

punkrocker

for KC

/ mbrazfieldm / 8 Comments

cracked

brittle

wilted heart

tear stained stars

foot steps quick ahead tonight

path crumbles in the coming of the light

blown kisses of holy waifs of the past who hold the saddened skylines tiny roads turn to the west with hunger

seeking a forgiveness for the crossing into a dimension of dandelions and dragons chasing rainbows in x-ray negative a vision quest of uncertainty where the road breaks into infinity amongst baby green silent hills

in transition there are trenches carved in judgment waiting for the sentence of a higher kind for actions of wasted time

the mile is longer than the wings of messengers as my legs tremble

road of life cobbled in touchstones signaling slowly

daring us to move on

alone all together

once more

whole

la llorona redux

/ mbrazfieldm / 2 Comments

children this is your mother city Porciuncula

calling and wailing when i feel your fall

i anger i ponder  cry in agony

i’ve watched you grow in my neighborwombs

i’ve watched you writhe in the pain of isolation

i’ve withstood you raising your hand in anger and murder

against your siblings    my streetveins flow through

your souls and while your spirits are still in the hearts

of your flesh ancestors your ache and loneliness

emblazoned on flags of blue red and black

demarking ancestral bruising

how can i avenge you my children

when i simultaneously incubate the demise

perhaps the answer lies

in my children rising up and punching with their brains

honoring themselves with their mind

and claiming your royal given right    to rise and be you

now departing

/ mbrazfieldm / 6 Comments

tonight the great primordial womb

calls me back

the womb she said, “Jacob, my son, it’s time to go.”

dear lost angel please don’t cry

we did agree that we would not be eternal

although the diamond rings in your banking district

are the most precious i’ve ever seen

the rings of Saturn beckon with their greatness

yes, yes my love, i know

how delicious the curves of the lot on Paramount are

but a million platinum words spoken to all of infinity

on the silver screen cannot hold me down

my Lady Queen of Angels

host to all of God’s creations both real and false

purveyor of riots, scandals and botox

cowboys, beaches and dahlias of all colors

the great universe summons

i fall in backwards toward my youth

but not before kissing the great Pacific farewell

maafa

/ 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.

eulogy

/ mbrazfieldm / Leave a comment

now that the death has come
and allowed me to live
without breathe in a realm
of incertitude

waiting in the radioactive

hallways for adults in

suits of meat and bone

with fire in their bullet

the demons are not real

and never were here

on this earth but the mountain

and the thunder and the darkness

and the cries and the gamble

and the dice and the skull

the switchblades of destiny

and the forsakenness continues

until the sky is clear

behold a dove does not return

modern time is old

and i of decrepit filth

left by wood jet engines

and a grace that is unfathomable

to the tiny soul piece of spit

in the ground

urban pre-k

/ mbrazfieldm / Leave a comment

i think of air

the load on my mind

is old and un fascinating

Alvarado has lost its

gold and my memories with it

i miss the buildings and their soul

the potato pancakes and the ducks

breezes that used to smell like L.A. Times

have died away with Marilyn and the Waltz

the pain of polio boosters and empty hugs

rushes back as i walk from the past

on Sundays i had gampa and pistachios on the lawn

an incomprehensible accentuated teutonic love

but that too has flown away with the

sirens and on the wings of the med fly

the barker

/ mbrazfieldm / 1 Comment

scurry, flurry

and tread right up

to the strangest

show on earth

come one or all who

remain in this world

to see the corpse in

the archives of time

hanging for the wolves

beloved and slated in one breath

global victim of the letter

of the law

inoperable in the one pit of time

terror and broken bone

let the vultures

entertain your value

let the earth open up and

imbibe us whole

oh holy milky way

spit us back out

through caves

let the mud and the ashes

fill in the tooth

the trees are all broken

the soul’s in the zoo

waiting for a

piece of meat

ccr on highway one

/ mbrazfieldm / 1 Comment

it all falls on formal shores,

Mr. Fogerty,

the rain you talk about.

the circles are no more,

the pulse neither fast or slow.

but Mr. Fogerty, my time for all is gone.

the sun hard and warm,

and i see the rain soft and cold.

yes, you sang to me long ago.

in the sand where glass is born

in the image of the bones.

the rain it lingers in the holes.

through the blood a soul is told,

live forever all alone,

no more fear to wander.

Mr. Fogerty i see your rain,

in the wrinkles of the pain.

to a life of no complain.

to the wars of the remorseful heart

like an engine in the 8th.

no more fear to wander.

and the circles in the eye

Mr. Fogerty for this time,

shedding rivers in the light.

across the fire of the sun,

skies are empty,hearts are down.

and the rain will keep its distance.

angels broken praise

/ 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.