it’s no good
i’m dubious should i or not
i took a walk around and around
inventoried the lost opportunities
of finding myself
Billie Holiday laments
and so do i
good morning heart ache she asks
i follow in a raspy girl whisper
what’s new
had i been a raconteur
would i had made a difference
in the mind that crazy hapless ass
i trudge a long time
exhausted
questioning
and as if by sheer exhaustion
the conclusion that i have no control
is reached
NELA
sanity
old monkey
sunshine of my heart
companion of my dull soul
make my spirit rise to the rouge skies
green vested like a tree you are so dear to me pink cheeked noisy silly boy only voice of reason in my head when everything in my news screen turns red
doin my part kinda
everywhere
in other news
rain pitter patters on the window if i look hard enough i can see tiny cat nose triangles and pomegranate shaped paw prints and another angel died
the high school music class saxophone huffs through into my room and the virtual eight grade students cheap ass marijuana wafts in too while another angel dies
the mayor explains how critical the strain is on the county and how we hold hands and fight from our couch as another angel died
the smell of my books and the pills that i took colors of my mind are tired and somber angels dying left and right
ventilators generators procreators thieves and hope beauty mud Your Kingdom come and another angel died
and if i make it past this trip i’ll still click on channel blank brains and angels will still die
bench to Nod
rest slips from
me not today she
said there is still work to be
done internally dive deep and see
sweet surrender colored weak continues to elude you the piece of eternity sliced for you is not yet served
becoming undone
it’s brewing
continuity
questions are stewing angry
we wait part doers motion suspend
muted red March April May rebirth unto death pull us forward bit insane masking new life restless buried ashen run to hide
dreams of Patmos
it starts like any other dream i’ve had since around age 11 with the Black Clergy and the Orthodox Cross of course Ivan the Terrible riding on a school bus horse in the diary for today there is written about John the Revelator who in my opinion had the dream to end all others forever more my phone screamed the LA County Emergency System warning safer at home lock down starts and the tranquil panic ensues can’t sleep the rapist may come blowing trumpets can’t eat boogey men come with sanitizer to wipe out my individuality can’t complain i’m doing great in contrast to so many of my brothers can’t stop thinking is this war Patmos makes me hungry in the soul talking to churches down the hall but we can’t help we are human no i say no no no sweaty panicked girl remember Big Bird and the age of innocence in limbo as the only romantic countries rage with the the horsemen double plus cut on the loose around the neck of Hemingway’s beloved
if i lived on Mars
overdue
God i’m not one who talks to You very much only You know why but right now with the sky dark my dog snoring the kids yelling next door Mumbai on the fevered lockdown Syria weeping on her feet and fear infecting logic on the tube i feel compelled to thank you for my blessed life for affording me the gift of bitch and cry designer colas and multiplexities of the mind coffins lined up on my screen die ye wicked crowned virus fiend God i know You know what i mean i thank you for my life for my pains strife and what i’ve left behind thank you for my job my smile my friends my cries those three times You knew why i was spared but now i know i really need for You to see that my feeble squeaks in some way will move You and take my bended knee to mean that in the witness of these stars and weeds that my human tribe be relieved from all the things that ail us
words less spoken 