Monday, January 18, 2016

breadcrumbs




You perpetrated an act and left the scene
with your status intact,
your theft covered over
leaving me to unbury the truth
by stringing together a trail of clues
                    like
the way my left foot curves inward
impotently shielding my weakened feminine
                    or
the way I always feel,
deep inside,
that something only mine to share was
taken before I even knew I had it
                  or
my habit of giving myself away for free or very little,
a childish defense intended only to lessen what’s taken,
not realizing my power to stanch the flow for good
                  and
the fact that I too often believe I deserve
to live lovelessly for the acts I parroted in infantile rages,
desiring to destroy another in the same manner
I had been destroyed
                 or
the myriad ways I self-sabotage,
a self-prophesied, self-compromised almost ran
too often conquered by her fears.

The body has a memory of things the mind can’t bear to see.

Saturday, February 14, 2015

mantra


when i was a girl
i learned to be a man
quickly as possible
for survival
only the strong survive
everyone knows that
but if surviving is just being alive
i may not be interested
as much as i once thought
failure to thrive
is nipping at my throat
hope i don’t choke
just keep breathing, breathing
a breath
a new beginning born
this time not of blood
just air   
keep breathing,
love

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

fundamentalist blues


i watched you hold the severed head of a so very young girl
by her hair and scream into a camera your rage and contempt
but you also looked excited
by the carnage, the scent of blood in the air.
it gave you righteous indignation
and a reason to unleash your own destructions.
i wondered if you would treat the meat
of your son’s body in the same way
or if you would cloak and shield his hideousness
and hold him tenderly with deference.
a woman in your world may be a martyr
but will she ever have your respect

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

escape velocity

 

i am a spirit trapped in meat

my nature to transcend weighed down

by this vessel come from animals

the taste of blood still palatable on its tongue

i seek beauty to keep from rotting

the threat of decay held at bay by a quickened heartbeat

and the will to stand up against this gravity

it’s kill or be killed but i can’t swallow it

spend my time instead conjuring a dash of infinity

to temper this finite experience

something to escape the stench of excrement

even though i know ‘the best way out is always through’

to be inescapably true

Sunday, November 30, 2014

theorem for 41

 

 

if you don’t want to be hunted

quit hunting

Saturday, September 27, 2014

einstein

 

 

  don’t try to tell me

         what’s

                       possible

I won’t listen anyway

    here in my world

       ‘impossible’

is the work of the day

speak your limitations elsewhere

         if you must

but I’d rather you keep them

                                to yourself

   or maybe just let

                            go of them

                                            for good

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

fever tease

 

The heat in the old house was relentless, a thirsty living thing that burned the moisture from Harlan’s skin as well as the still, weighty air. It was so hot that every room smelled of the old wooden shingles that mostly covered the house he’d lived in his entire life; a few had fallen off in disrepair. Harlan began to feel feverish, a little shaky. Volatile. Just a natural reaction, really, a process as old as the birth of the stars. Heat, giving rise to expansion, building up unbearable pressure, consummating into irreversible combustion.

And that’s how it came about, the thing that forever changed his life. It was simply too damn hot.