social worker

in the dawn

when bodies intercross

that stage of simultaneous

exhaust and regeneration

my mind becomes of another plane

where the primitive fears

gargle up before i can close my third eye

my getting beat or a fork in the road without its tines

i wake for a few millennial seconds

then heavy weariness weighs me down again

smelling Jewish rye bread toasting

i’m at the house on Rodney street

wearing my mother’s clothes

and my lips sewn shut

phone alarm buzzes on

and the cats start to call me mama

slowly i rise

unconsciously tap my lips

while dragging my feet

to the bathroom mirror

another day in hell

and all i got is a cup of ice chips

no egos need apply

tranquil 3:48 p.m. cemetery

exposed roots and i lay my head

on them inhaling the stink of rot

coming from the moisture

entwined in their wood

like cells and chromosomes

the lawn lush and cool

flower beds the brightest

colors in nature’s pupils

jeweled hovering insects

with class and personality

perhaps we are in the place

where not only the dead

come to rest

below the soil

a natural process

holy if you will

is taking place

God’s created flesh

returns to its forewarned state

i can’t imagine it would

appeal to me if i saw it

i then wonder would God’s

face appeal to me too

i focus back on the scents

around me

green aquatic a fowl or six

fried chicken knock off perfumes

car exhaust a hookah oxtail stew

and i think again

behind the pedi-cured beauty

underneath my resting fleshy bones

resides the biological truth

no egos need apply                       

hand

i’ve never really placed much attention to my hands they just work write eat wipe bathe pick scrub love cup stroke pet grope sweat type hold i took them to a man and he injected ink in some places symbols only useful to me oh and i’ve never taken into consideration how much they’ve fought mostly against myself and with people bent on kicking my ass the fingers are aging too crooked they will inevitably be if i’m lucky to get to be that old a little scarred and a little cracked in some bones from falls punches and climbing up or down from walls maybe i was too wild for my hands although i’ve had some feminine moments with polish and rings among other things a woman’s hands are good for my nails are short and i chew them off when no one is around to comfort me the lines on my palms are the secret roadmap i think i have followed in my travels with tiny trenches diving deep and some just cutting off i might have a few knuckles bigger than the rest but that’s ok i want to keep them as a trophy to my life

gaza

with a fissured heart

and tired hands

aching legs and broken words

i grasp loosely to

figure

out

what is happening to us

i created the west of my spirit

and was gifted the east of my soul

not a child of import

but yes a child of a pompous war

not of one tribal affiliation

but stuck in the carnal politics

of the complications in people

if you could touch me now

my coat of lesser colors

you could set me free

You and i crossing water

to mourn my tiny innocence

she hangs in the corner closet

pretty robin’s egg blue coat

with every year

that has crawled by

she fades away from me

contrition

Indeed, it is very rare when I can feel the stillness of my spirit. It is a wild one. It thrives on diving off the highest cliffs of life and relishes the feeling of narrowly avoiding the jagged rocks of human pain below. I feel her today. She sits next to me silently caressing the gold of the elusive clear horizon.

Thoughts of worry flood me every so often. Will the stillness leave us causing my spirit to tear my natural peace a sunder? It has been much too long before I had the courage to go on my own. To walk away from the safety of the rock solid artificial happiness was terrifying. I did not want to wander in the depth of dark waters for so many years more.

the day dream

the news comes and goes

laughing children noises

frame the window to a past

that has no terrible value

perhaps I should leave it to the dawn

The time for the appointment is here. I have made a commitment to go outside today. How I wish I was  in Big Sur with him. He loved me how I was, but I didn’t love myself. Do I love myself now, I wonder? I laugh a little. The water hushes me and I smile. His shoulders wide and strong, my disease and madness a little stronger. It’s not that he abandoned me, it’s just that he believed in freedom. I believed that my sickness was an entitlement worth dying for.

my way…

indeed it is very rare when i can feel the stillness of my spirit it is a wild one it thrives on diving off the highest cliffs of life and relishes the feeling of narrowly avoiding the jagged rocks of human pain below i feel her today she sits next to me silently caressing the gold of the elusive clear horizon

thoughts of worry flood me every so often will the stillness leave us causing my spirit to tear my natural peace a sunder it has been much too long before i had the courage to go on my own to walk away from the safety of the rock solid artificial happiness was terrifying i did not want to wander in the depth of dark waters for so many years more

the day dream

the news comes and goes

laughing children noises

frame the window to a past

that has no terrible value

perhaps i should leave it to the dawn

the time for the appointment is here i have made a commitment to go outside today how i wish i was  in Big Sur with him he loved me how i was but i didn’t love myself do i love myself now wonder i laugh a little the water hushes me and i smile his shoulders wide and strong my disease and madness a little stronger it’s not that he abandoned me it’s just that he believed in freedom i believed that my sickness was an entitlement worth dying for

Photo by Sue Vincent

libertin lâche

kiss my cheek

lie to me

mercy given tonight

losing something

not mine

Sweet poison

sweet poison

one dishonest caress

i know

you’ll run

to her

raven beauty

young supple

mind big tits

and designer smile

it’s ok

i play the game

i’m banging

the green eyed philosopher

on Wilcox place

can we just be honest

it’s ok for me to say

i like sex

it’s ok

for you to have lady friends

as long were all cool with it

and take responsibility

of not spreading germs

or making sweet babies

to suffer in vain

i know i started off nice

life is not nice

but we can be nice

if that’s what we want

the philosopher knows

you know about him

it’s ok if you bring her

i like your touch a lot

love is for others

but not for my heart

i too am wise

you’ve made it this far

         at the front step of mystery

i am sweet enter me you are man

    answer my question of why all is all

tell truth at risk of enticing your anger  you know

       i too am wise

deep is the diamond there’s a reason He hid it there

     you are the key to unleashing continued life

but where did it go wrong the seed it falls to nothing

      where did i lose center when did i gain pain

look into me and dare say it is Eve’s fault

           i ask you are man where does omnipotence end

i am the vessel the chalice the grail in code stop chasing your tail

     let us grow together why place your foot on my neck

does it please you to see me ground into the dirt

    my legs are strong my arms hold the children from

      the poisonous suns

i too am wise

     man come into my center at times i too am harlot

         and i become like a god my brother man

  my mind gets pulled into a thousand places

          but i know that what the king wants

               i am your pleasure the reason you exist

enter my warmth the ecstasy of my womb engulf yourself in the holy

     mine are the rainbows the rains and the wars

       mine are the secrets kept between my legs

          fools who thought of taming me

              have not quite made it back

sitting this one out

magic castles border the alley way please lie down and snort the day and the she night will fall upon us yellows oranges whites and grays we see it going to school every day no amount of hatred or political correctness can help the souls astray talk at me tell me what my people did wrong correct me embrace my essence in your doctrine of the truth do you think i bowed to baal when the spirit lifted us higher inclusiveness is nothing new other than the pillar of what to stand for the new language proposal falls like lead into the lakes of empty hearts we know what forked tongues look like my mothers’ shed blood and spirit for the words embedded in my throat and the thoughts of freedom incubated in my mind in the name of equality for all translated into only yours i will not yield my inheritance blindly

soul

inside between the breastplate and the heart there’s a tiny little nook with an itsy blue butterfly her name is soul and she came to be in the mountains of Kashmir when the atoms were still babes blue prints in the grand masters eyes soul lodges there time immemorial and waits measures holds back explodes forward what the mind judges to do at times mostly in the dead of night soul flutters a little spirit revs up becoming restless and soul makes it right she spreads  here sky blue wings to dry the tears welling in my eyes blue soul corner stone of secrets and filter of the lies the weary life the prices paid to walk in fields of grandeur right before crystalline morning comes mind rages war on blue life soul her wings crushed under a stream of poison