basura

you touched me softly
you held me to your bosom
you looked at me with the softness of a dying fawn
you whispered to me on dark nights with rainy windows
you buried your sweet face so innocently in mine when the howling winds drew near too close to your safety valve
you grew
you matured
your mind expanded
you took the bite of all forbidden
you wandered into the deserts full of twinkling lights
you wore the silks and the satins you heard the music play on mountains
like all good souls
you outgrew what we had
you had to leave and i understand that
although i wait i know you’ll never come
the sun rises and sets
i am here in judgment and in torment
i always knew in the end we were just a moment

mbrazfield (c) 2020

time and me

time sits across from me
sticks her dried out tongue at me
i ignore time and i think about how the Sun catches in his eyes
sometimes the night dwells there too
the Moon interlaced with sparks of blue and black and only a color that God can name
time and i we have this relationship contingent upon
who falls from the table first she’s so wicked mean witch and i almost the same
then i think about him
i think about how those eyes
the Sun has caught and keeps me mesmerized taking my plans away from me
the Sun gets lost and the spider web blue topaz those are
i’m a fool
time laughs at me
she laughs at me
lady time she’s never believed that he catches the Sun in his eyes
she doesn’t want me to know that the radiant ocean of his soul is where i can go
time is a jealous harpy
dry heavy silence
unyielding and she stares
me in my eyes that don’t catch hardly anything anymore
dark
fire out
tired
sometimes we muse at the thought of how he catches
the Sun in his eyes blue so so blue
my eye
my third eye so so extinguished

barbed wire

it was quick easy clean and graceful dreams today for me are sharp
wires on the way over hard horizon the heart is tossed away there are some music notes along side like comets
mocking heart in her exile away from him
upon the crossing of that place heart’s lost hind sight again with only tear salted picture frames of his hand no longer holding her

Picture courtesy of R Banks (c) 2020

partial ballad for Pam and Jim

i once found him looking into my eyes holding my hands
he moved me to live to love to laugh
while the endless hoping
that my days will die fast
fuel the tomorrows that cast me into a grinding trap
i really wish i wouldn’t have to leave and pace back and forth between cold frontiers looking into darkness
the void is left

as limbo and i walk hand in hand exhausted

mbrazfield (c) 2020

hail to R Banks for conceptualizing and making this offering and picture possible love you so much

purgatory

time appears to have gone on forever and there is a big chunk of me whatever i am that has not changed on this day a very long time ago i was granted permission to come into this world to a big city that is just made of legend i learned very quickly that when the sun went down we all bled shit sleep fought hated just like each other no big difference not from the next city over not from the next country over and probably not from other planets today that old cautionary statement we only live above our demons but we never get rid of them swirls in my head i confess at times i don’t know how i think how i see things i don’t even know sometimes if i believe in pain emotional spiritual physical i don’t know the difference at times what does it feel like to be without pain does it feel the same as being in pain don’t know so here i am back at the Cecil Hotel right where i have always been obviously not in body but in soul sometimes when there is no one around to question the fuck out of me and why my face looks or doesn’t look how they want it to look that particular day i wonder am i a ghost i wonder have i been reincarnated i wonder when i look up and down Broadway and Main to the left or to the right and then i look up and turn around and i look at empty shells of buildings where gargoyles used to be decorations masonry ballrooms perhaps so much and then there will be a particular window that enraptures my eyes and i can’t look away and if i squint my third eye i swear i can see her young dark hair big green brown eyes i don’t know what her name would have been maybe Hazel maybe Dorothy who knows not a modern name and then when my third eye blinks she jumps

when she was

stillness has a home among ashes of dead flowers past
old dust only remnants left of her
here in this room of austerity supple cries still cling to the remnants of the time when she was
when her bird died or when her heart got broken to know he had been taken from her in a muddy field cold with rain and damned with fire
madness ensued and she never knew that her name was the last on his longing lips

broken bottle

spider’s web on the corner
the dust and sunlight dance
a waltz
cracks in my bones books on my shelves chipped polish on my nails
the spider has gone to another land and i wonder if she was a pilgrim looking for God as well
not in the mood for anything to eat i sit and watch my cat sneak around the tables
silence in my heart and in the windows purple orange skies
no particular need for any promise i’m quite grown up
and think beyond those silly things
but every now and then the feeling flutters like a moth outside his lantern how did time
escape from me
ah yes a broken glass
in the midst of my heart