im still awake

im still awake
watching leaves radiate
baste in smoke
under bridges broke
my legs tired
heart not feeling
im still awake
cursed unlike cain
a woman stoic
my arms crawling
in vain smiling
ophelia is reviving
the world’s fire
hamlet’s ashes blown
im still awake
we sit today
marble and hate
feet shame caked
disorienting paths unwoven
siren lights off
im still awake

wanton bullets

mbrazfield (c) 2023

tonight i have given up
trees comfort me for now
the light waves capture the tones of my tears
tonight the pain of my mind is entertained by the old dried chewing gum patties on the ground
i imagine a plucky child tossing the wad to the ground before his teacher catches him
or perhaps a love struck siren
preparing to kiss her sailor farewell
tonight i don’t want to doubt a higher power and i do not want to believe in the wickedness of us
tonight i stroll numbed to not smell the stench of misery misted by the atomizer of hypocrisy blowing from the Hall
instead my tired eyes are drawn to the gentle softness of the dust lanterns pummelled by wanton bullets of pidgeon shit
tonight i sit quietly accepting nothing and holding everything in my heart

counter psalm

chaos leads me to where they want

they make me sleep under shooting helicopters it guides me to lethal fire water

it vaporizes my soul it taunts  me through the bridges of emptiness for its master’s gain

against my will i crawl through the tunnels of the brothers of hell i too have bent to darkness because i have no choice its laws and regulations punish me

its servant prepares a toe tag for me among the million files of others fallen you judge my disease with disgust my blood dried on the tile flooring

judgement and prejudice flanks me till the day i die and eternity will find a way to erase me

Nile

mbrazfield (c) 2023

Nile was a girl gaze tragic like a Neil Young song mother as Nile called her had a name like a thunder storm soon the girl went astray in the world sleeping in the woods of the county jail mother didn’t want her little child hurt answering her calls after the pimps tore out her hair and by the morning stars Nile would soon depart to wander through the sidewalks of those evil streets before her momma could feed her breakfast with a broken heart the moon keeps the clock of the hours she’s gone mothers eyes swirl with the pain of knowing her daughter will never return

psalm 23 LA style

mbrazfield (c) 2023

today was a  bitter day
i contemplate giving up
the people i love
have violated my trust
stomped my heart
spat in my courage
to all i said fuck you
in a moment of haste
i walked out to the street
not believing what they did
i suppose we are just human
Liberty i work with your poor
your huddled masses yearning
for something
my compassion and loyalty
dragged through the hell of your mouth
beat by the hate in your heart
and God
i feel alone
afraid
thy rod and staff
comfort no one
today was a bitter
confusing day
its become so very easy
to look the other way
but in the end
i couldn’t walk away
so God help me
as i walk into the fire again

trees

mbrazfield (c) 2020

in dream i walk PicoUnion
Lydia Lunch hair do
fringe beneath my eyes
the hotdog vendor burns
her inventory
hands in jean jacket pockets
a gold Volvo stops an inch from me
i wear tap shoes to hear a click
because the LAFD sirens sicken me
in the sky there is a subtle sun
negotiating with the trees
one particular tree caught my eye
as he bent in an uproar
almost majestic in size
he blocked me from Hyperion’s
cancerous sighs
chewing Bazooka Joe’s
careful of my side eyeing
in case the fentanyl groupies
demand my food bank box
the city tired as she is
steady her sidewalks remain
in spite of the oppression
‘and the wind began to howl’
protested from a Tennessee plate
Robert England  cabin
suddenly the driver and i lock eyes
as lady Vyvanse begins to ebb inside
my pupils begin to show
but my dream turns out
is a hell bound reality

skyline in November

when you died four days went by
until the living souls found you
grimace on your face and in the spirit comfort
you are gone sometimes awake at dawn i wonder where you are up in the skyline of the last picture i took
on our first train trip together
poetic in your cries for help you were
you’d cuss us out scream in ignorant hatred
then you’d say “you want a porkchop”
when soul one called it took 3 minutes
i thanked her she thanked me
we hung up wrote your final moments
as an incident report
no more angry calls or wasted lies
no more interrogations with misty eyes
about why the demons at your door don’t show themselves for me
i do remember our trip to Mickey Ds
you wanted cheeseburgers and OJ
we got our order and took our seats
while your eyes fled off in wonder
i did not know it then although sometimes i knew
that the more i pushed you to live
the deeper you fell into the belief
that your troubles would be over
after you visited the other side of that skyline in November

mbrazfield (c) 2022