Self Acceptance

22 days

/ mbrazfieldm / 1 Comment

third

night

comes fast

bleeding has not

stopped but i wonder how

the little birds are doing outside its raining

the momma flutters about with pink worms impaled on her beak squirming one

last time as slowly as time is crawling my thoughts converse i imagine them eating cucumber sandwiches asking if worms breath

my bladder called mad as hell on account she needed to be emptied cold with wiggly knees i stood as if my life depended on it i smiled a little wishing i could care

twenty two days of my demons staring me down i imagined them wearing fine silk tunics sky blue laughing green eyes and if i could feel them they would feel like velvet i missed the lies but when they possessed me it was if i was being held by a mother tenderly and warm safely

away from the dark but one day my eyes opened and i saw that it wasn’t true none of it tired of my demons telling me what to do i stopped talking to them inviting them in the resentments i felt where stronger than the need for false love and security which they offered so well at first it was easy then it became hard then it was as if i just walked from one box car to another waiting for the entire train to go off the rails

sibylla horrendas

/ mbrazfieldm / 2 Comments

i want to be the animal who takes you so high that you will explode in gold and silver ecstasy shivers down your knees to the back of your legs as i tickle your hairy lower back while i climb on your stomach let my mane suffocate you while rolling your eyes to the back of your head you can see how the Son of Man was conceived up close and personal i want to be the animal who on her slick wet skin patchouli mango scent you slip as you chase me to the stars through a roof of glitter and lightning i’ve never stood with the virgins but as a great fortune teller the secrets of the deepest crevices of the human soul can be found in the tar pits of my eye i am the animal who for 17 ethereal seconds will hold you hypnotized paralyzed and then simultaneously release you when i fly to the sky where time disappears as we turn into the nothing of everything regenerating a new crop of witnesses heirs to the embers of what that we left behind

Picture courtesy of Free Verse Revolution

a genesis with a Dada twist

/ mbrazfieldm / 8 Comments

in the beginning when She did pick oxygen carbon hydrogen and nitrogen and He did stir the clay with hot holy essence all the words in the world were at a finger’s length beyond my reach

so close they were that i then leapt out of the nest of my pink blue galaxy and into the pavement of down town LA the words they did follow in time i’d pluck tiny words for tiny worries and the Nephilim smiled for they knew i was falling

in love with the charge of turning the misery hatred pain starvation violence and rape of it all into the beauty found on the hem of the robe of the Goddess and the wing of a humming bird

that’s reaching for the higher hanging words drenched in the nectar from the Tree of Knowledge i strung them up to detail the anatomy of a broken heart with its crystal shards wrapped in Cleopatra’s linens sanctimoniously tucked away in a Payless shoe box atop an urban closet shelf

of the condemned building in the bosom of desperation and the pool in eyes of children stack did i those words like bricks made of powder to bring the kingdoms down and with the rabble of defeat as i burnt down i built up a nation of wordsmiths

who with their quills pens papyrus key boards tablets and marketing firms wait gingerly drinking lattes on the Stratford Upon Avon wicker chairs

that my English teacher said she dusted for the scribes who mused the signs letter symbols into the dendrites of my mind but not before Allen Will Bill Jack Hank Dylan Langston Lou Bowie Leonard and Ms. Angelou were anointed and leaving me with words less spoken

abreagieren

/ mbrazfieldm / 15 Comments

my mother and my father would fight about the air around them or about Jimmy Carter and about their marital problems tired old words leadless bullets that i took for them a meek child called to be King Solomon at 4 the trees and blocks and baby dolls were not enough to free me from the painful heavy feeling in my post toddler soul an orphan in the house of everything meaningless clean sanitary and paid for but not love i had 30 pieces of silver 7 times more and i kissed no one and no one kissed me when i bruised my knees or when the Armenian kids beat me up after school or when i cut the rope and wandered off into the womb of my city the yellow brick road didn’t exist but there were miles and miles of pavement where gentle hands and toothless grins had my best interest at times and at times i grew up the hard way but between stolen 4th of July Fireworks shows OD visits to the ER home cooked waffles at Astrid’s house boys with rainbows in their eyes and a few good angels i learned how to love

auxiliary guardian angels

/ mbrazfieldm / 4 Comments

Willie and Big Daddy sat in front of the Seven Eleven from noon till about 4 in the morning except on Sundays when they went to church at the MM Willie had a four dollar a day sun flower seed habit with his Colt 45 Big Daddy liked to comment on women’s asses and cat call on the flaming tight boys who dressed like Duran Duran Willie had gone to Howard in the 70’s and when he wasn’t in psychosis we’d talk about Nijinsky Big Daddy would tell me about the bed bugs at his SRO on 7th and how the Good Lord had saved his life and when the drug dealers and pimps would try to entice me into their cars they would both roll their wheel chairs in front of me and dared them to fight and as time went by and i grew older Willie and Big Daddy faded into the brick walls with graffiti and no posted bills the three of us together were never like anyone thought we should be we just were and they both gifted me with alternate ways of understanding the world and breaking the chains