longing

on the shore where it is quiet

the people gone for the night

but only the echo of their laughter

tangled up in the ebb and flow of the tides

the foam crackles on the scrumptious sand

my toes drill into the warmth of your shore

a sensualness seeps through the pores of my skin

because that beautiful he moon above me

with glorious pewter rays of light

directs my memories of you

who are of the universe now

i still stand here alone on earth

walking with the sons of Cain

sentenced to miss you exclusively

the twelve golden stars to weep they must

to bear witness of what the polarities

of our world have done to my anemic heart

this land were my feet don’t touch

tell me please what are my charges

will the grains of sand

who lavish in the waters of rebirth

rebuke our love as well

lady Blue release me

to swim about in your sea

and race my soul toward the last sunset

supposing

when i look at you

my heart inches toward a

possibility

love letter to Allen

hi

Allen

it’s me the

kid who read you

too early in her life and yelped before

the howl can’t you see i really love you

i’m a boy in

a body

of a

girl

me

i had

a mother

too she was gone

but until now i can’t write her poems

easing her death for me lost in the fog

can i be a

blue sailor

with you

and

sweep

across

this world to

hear the voices

louder in our heads and words seeping through

the Hebrew ghosts of our mothers’ tears for

a life torn to

tiny bits

too small

to

pick

up and

put back on

the shelf of show

Allen did we get old in babyhood

is that why passion runs lukewarm tempests

i’m fading in

my only

land

where

copper

painted god

children played with

the sun and all her golden sisters too

before the bearded strangers came with the

ships and fools to

drown in pools

of their

own

made

sorrow

tonight i

want to drink to

you the man i love and sip from your mind

the dirty thoughts the ones with guys and all

that comes with them

if i can

only be

a

mere

armpit

hair of yours

and see what you

have seen and hear the howling of the fears

that haunt all men to their torment in life

so poorly lived

and here i

am for

you

can i be your spirit animal, Mr. Ginsberg?

rumination ii

to breathe

in your aura

the smell of your hair

the rough of your chest

peek a boo huff in your voice

the way you look down

to catch my breasts

in your hungry mouth

to breathe a past

and let it go

floating like ashes

when we were lovers

and we were kings

but time is not a lady

who waits for those who fear

of losing life

to breathe a future

where i am lost

without my lover

without my king

did you go away from me

to make me kneel

and see me bend

in the blackness of

night’s bitter drink

vulnerable

hey it rains

at 2 a.m.

and for some

reason i think

about you love

what are you

you are what

i feel you

to be in that dark corner

hiding behind dust bunnies

from when he last opened the door

and left me

recusants you and i

pic by mbrazfield (c)2019

night drive slow speed

body tired windows bleed

city light a million times

soul sucker dynamite

blare the sin out from below

steel cold brick you sunk me

my fingers crooked now

with the countdown of this town

but don’t underestimate

the heart mine least of all

look me in the silence of that eye

i dare you to deny

that after you’ve torn

us both down

spit on our ancient right

that a tree of force will not emerge

from where my human blood’s been shed

from where my love everlasting powerful

and pure will for all of time

triumph over you

and our perversions

purple petals

when i was a teen girl

i had a teen boy lover

he was broken like James Dean

and like Brando a real bad ass mutherfucker

he kissed with a platinum tongue

as we walked along the Venice sand

he’d get into fights

all bloody and bruised

but we still caught the moonlight

sucking on the booze

we’d fuck until we couldn’t walk

not because of sex or anything

but because of all the glue we huffed

those were wild times

in the eyes of other people

to a punk skater kid

of broken inner spirit

the life style was his fort

me i was just a wanna be

looking for a Trojan Horse

to leave this solar system far behind

by sixteen i’d been dead so many times

and had gotten taken advantage of by force

all because of it

Blaine with the dirty blonde mohawk

my only refuge that boy was

we swore our love

with Sharpie marker anarchy tattoos

and shared pizza crusts

from the dumpsters down on Zephyr

at night we’d find some Gypsy camp

and howl unto the face of angels

howling at the moon just seemed so trite

but when we’d look in each other’s eyes

there were no stars in them

like with the Montagues’ and Capulets’

just an existential escape past our sullied souls

knowing that we had no plan

just living for the day

no flowers in my hair

no money for the Goddamned fare

from desperation blvd. to hole ave.

just me and Blaine alone together

simultaneous fear and madness punching in the air

we lived like Cohen and the Beats

the Velvets and Andy and Billy Name

we talked about fascism and Ollie and the gang

La Revolucion y El Che

we talked about other times

his aunt Myrtle’s minced meat pie

Constantinople and even Hemingway

he read about the Bolsheviks

while i adored Bukowski

he slept in the LA Central Library

on my bony dirty lap

one of the most beautiful

and sacred memories of my life

was my chipped fingernail polish

fingers picking out two tiny

purple flower petals

from his gentle baby hair crown

Venice beach man

i love the way you look at me

almond blue eyes laden with innocent sin

i love the way you steal a kiss from me

and sometimes hold me down

by my cat-like wrists

and tell me how you’ll take me

i love the texture of your ear

on my tongue rugged and sun burnt

crisped by the sea salt and the sand

i love to hear the song

of your primitive throat when you cum

i love how you scold me when i’ve had

one too many of the L36s

and i respect you

as a man who tells it how it is

with compassion while you grieve

for the slow motion death of my free spirit

at your service

i pluck a lullaby from notes that the wind makes

and i sing in la-la-la’s just for you

i pretend that the fellas can hear me too

as the warm sun makes me take off your old army shirt

hold on i got a text

but before i scroll on screens i loved your stories

of bayonets and the history channel’s gruesome blitzkriegs

and when you’d sit in the garage

crying hysterically like a heart broken woman

i would weep too by the old fig tree in the afternoons

why do we fight when we fight each other

and when we fight ourselves will the world be better off

homenaje moribundo

From my bleeding heart

Rain the cries of a bottomless love

In ardor and pain and sweetness from the guava fruits

Destined to wither and die on your ground

Angel of cruel deliciousness

Knocking on the broken door of my memory

As I agonize in the thought of your becoming eyes

Hell does circle me every day and brighter at night

Lady of the circulating endless ecstasy

Only you can allow me to die in peace

Image by mbrazfield (c)

estimada novia de colores

en las garras de la pasión

mírame en los ojos

un color come el mío

te juro no los vas a ver

eres el suspiro de la vida

que nace y muere como la Coatlicue

quiero ser libre en tu prisión

y nunca escapar dulce peregrina señora del altar

de las cosas más sagradas en su naturaleza perversa

píntame con tu arco iris

columnas de nuestros padres

las madres ya no van

y siguen su camino

quiero que hagamos amor

en Saturno

y con uno de sus anillos

hacerte mi esposa