It has been a while since I visited this space
this phrase
this taste
that lingers on my hands that use it all
the invisible
the unlivable
that takes bites at my heart and the left ear
prickly pear
morning prayer
I mutter and scream regardless of life
who dies
advise
please advise on the nature of joy
of Troy
of God:
am I you or you I in this quest we call birth
we observe
and prefer
we emerge
and reverse
we occur
and we flirt
with the time that revolves in the quietest of rooms
don’t you wait! fill your womb
with the now and the myths
don’t you wait now! fill it with…
Tag Archives: self
pinocchio
they are the rocks
that the quarry never answered
(waitingforajoke)
or the big bang
they are the dreams
taking over my matter while you found
the dungeon
I keep them all in
it is the whale swallowing the wooden kid
δε∀†h θþξη ƒσΓ discussion
1 eye closed
I saw ½ the world
inventing treasures as I went
filling in the ______________ with projections
and children playing tic tac toe
missing people I could only hear or
sense from what seemed a galaxy elsewhere
they were just a few s s away
t p
e
not quite guiding my path with their shadows
a matter of pain and source:
³trust those shadows on my right
²turn my head all the way and at last
view the whole world
¹open my one eye closed and
glimpse catch SΕΕ
↓
that the shadows are the same on all → sides ←
↑
and the world experiences more
than I allowed myself
and my now open eye needs practice to love all
that IS
bar-tending a heart
a shot please
– was all that she requested
her hand waiting on that glass full of forgetting
instead your arrow went right through
first her left lung
you didn’t stop there no
her index was split in two as she pointed at your bow questioning
her eyebrow was arched into place by another shot
you stained her solar plexus too
↑
even her knee fell ←out→ of place
↓
you kept aiming
firing
wounding
until her shadow was heaving on the floor
and all that you could hear was her heart
in love
falling
of dinners and poisons
I had drinks with my skin one night
and we cheered to our scars
to the slices
of flesh
that almost seem to make a meal
how would you like that?
rare
certainly rare
so that I can taste the iron in it
and the future
and old viruses that never became
and all those paper cuts
they made me go ssssssss while I inhaled
and maybe suck a drop or two of red
One drink turned into alcohol poisoning
and my skin
ah, my skin
felt like prunes while it drowned and
sandpaper and and betrayed
betrayed like my flesh
like the iron that could have built statues
betrayed like the future sitting on a rocking chair
almost f
a
l
l
i
n
g apart
betrayed like the viruses that had hoped to find a home on a
floor of some lung
and those paper cuts (betrayed betrayed betrayed)
that wanted to wake me up from my slumber
We ended up in a tomb
my skin and I
(drinking to dust)
I taste
of things that have no illusions
of existing
infinite lights
of cats and breath
of the past that holds on to tissue in
illnesses
of heat yes! heat that
comes from the center of somewhere or
existed all along it
was only waiting for June
of fabrications in my head
that laughter gives a w a y
of teeth nibbling on cheese
of fish once a week
of loving of harsh
words words
of waiting for the next one yes
the next one
the next one
the next
and not waiting at all
of Spanish words that Saturn can hear
of the dance where I am led where I lead
of my mother’s birth
of my father’s death
of a few countries and their cathedrals
of the pain of others and
their wrinkles revering the sun
of rainbows and darkness
of dust and chemicals
of seemingly filtered water
and piano songs floating away on rafts
made up of tears and overthinking
of prehistoric cells ready for goodbyes and
new ones too that want to abandon this (human)
ship and create elsewhere
of love un(conditional)
you
I wonder what your tongue claims …
medusa factor
Don’t ask me where I’m from
just touch my hair
It feels like it could turn you
into rock and algae
even after avocado treatments
I have lent my hair
to hairbrushes and tubs that
clog
pillows and floors
dishes and food
to future scenes of crime where
I existed years ago
It comes from far away places
and its roots are dry as the desert
making it almost impossible to grow
like hers or hers or even yours
and yet
it soothes me and loves me
and handles mistreatment
it wraps and tickles
and caresses your face
and sometimes my shoulders
hairballs!
ice crystals
drop
drop drop
do you remember that time when
we touched the sky
the smile in your eyes
and the grin that touched my earrings
don’t you also remember how
we s l o w l y started to practice loneliness
keeping to our rooms
when the cold stowed us inside
all of a sudden the icicles
on our cheeks and the s l o w
fade of rapture made us into statues
unable to move or unwilling to try
and like this we remained all
winter yearning for the sound of birds
gradually thawing until only I remained in
the now tepid room full of your shadows
I took the first step shaking off
all the melted water, all the ice, all the past ready
to walk into Spring alone once more
only
to find you waiting so we could go our separate ways
t o g e th e r
the sound of lightning
I listened for the white in the sky
the seeming light color of electricity
that awoke me to the tears
of God
the ones that could bring a plague or
food for (a) future…
And I believed the kiss of clouds
the light touch of feathers of
the birds
s
u
r
r
e
n
d
e
r
i
n
g
to this
dance of senses
so that the air smelled like
magic and angels
while I listened for the crackling of God
about a tree
Sprouted I did !
I heard that I was needed some where
and decided to walk there
only to find myself firmly rooted
to a girl with branches
in a land of dust and questions
where silence is the last desire
and the first at times
when there is nothing else but the
wait for that ray of sunshine that
will bring hope to the girl’s eyes
the one with the branches
and the dust
and the questions
rain
The Naked Pianist 