03 November 2009

October Heir

Expensive wind-blown hair
Her curls a mahogany mess of beauty, hiding her sullen eyes and fine nose rounded at the tip.
Rain in her too- couture leather booties- to function, soaking feet than run hard in the morning and pace on hard wood floors in the dead of night.
Not in the rain boots on the oriental door rug in her lake view abode!
The rich texture of her black cloak clash marvelously with silk textured tights
Meant to protect from things cooler than her, the coolest of people, the coldest of green stares and hide her auburned knees.
Liquid gloves cover the shaft of her arm to the dry, bony elbows of a poor little rich girl.
Scarlet letters dropping from the trees to meet the Autumn that walks on sprinkles in her world, on the ground, to break her every Fall.

24 August 2009

we are well seasoned

uncompromisingly beautiful,
the rhetoric required to learning you,
Nighttime sonnets, running away often
left in the rain,
brazen words,
passionate, ripe red languages,
curses and promises
jagged edges, pain and pleasure
swelled memories-
colors that give what was once new, a beautiful death.

16 April 2009


i was melting into the floor that morning when you couldn't be a man
rising up to beautiful roses, Spanish guitar strings, and foreign candies
Georgia peach covering my cheeks caked with dirt and your finger prints
snake skin boots withering at the weight of my heels that have been resting deeply
in the comfortable struggle of you & me & our egos

17 March 2009

4 Seasons Love

Doors unlocked and beds unmade won't scare me.
In the Winter, frost bite and bitter cold winds won't undo me as long as you stay next to me by the rolling heater and tell me how much you care LOUDLY when I forget to turn it off before sleep comes and it's too late.
Simple life and nothing fancy won't disappoint me.
Spring mud and flowers devoured by dogs and worms won't bug me if you shield me from rain.
Being uncomfortable in any sense of the word won't apply to me.
Not in a humid room at night on an air mattress on the wood floor or in a space filled with hot cigarette breath where scorching words are used between thumps of addiction and bass that invades from a stolen box.
As long as you can chill with me for as long as is meant to be.
I'll never Fall out over spilled Cap'n Crunch all over the studio floor or when you fold your clothes perfectly and mine inside out.
Bills and notices and calls or even strangers knocking on the door won't devalue me if you scent lingers in the corners where I hide and the petals of flowers you bought stay pressed next to our Verses.

Months fly by..

I have just looked at my last post and realized that I haven't posted a piece in A WHILE! I almost shook my head at the screen and said "Nuh uh, that's not true. I have been composing words into random pieces since December 10th"! I've been writing on napkins and quickly tapping words into the MEMO application on my Blackberry while walking Chico and etching some run on sentences out on the back of receipts in my wallet on the train (when I'm not distracted by the 6:50pm crowd of commuters, of course). I would lie and say to concentrate has been so hard lately. My mind has been wandering all over my 9-6, new personal endeavors and projects, and all the clutter that is starting to really clog my life and my bedroom! I'm really growing out of alot of things. But that is what my poetry is all about! It's capturing moments that are true to me and my experience and putting them down in some order that makes since to me, for my own recollection-not for anyone else's understanding of the words. So really I have been letting life happen but have not been giving myself an outlet. That ended today on my walk with Chico. My eyes were burning from Blackberry display light but the point is I was getting some real air and productively writing an entry for my blog.

10 December 2008

Forever 22

Eating an orange
lying on my belly
knees bloody red
contemplating my remorse for what I didn't say
waiting for a call from a messy fall out
unsatisfied with more access
perplexed in excess by divisions
and the thin line between something seedy and pulp
oh how it limits fun.

08 December 2008


What is the the Constitution of love
Desire nature obligation?
The inability to control feelings
and emotions
to be a tangled web of bliss and heartbreak?
Every complex infrastructure of man, creeping thing, reproducer
is given a gift to express the deeds and languages of the act: creation
deemed natural in accordance to our nature and their original intentions to feel receive rather than to give
Many still crawl on their bellies to find true love.
A pistol and blood helped him find it sooner.

Composure of a Ladybug

Sula Peace

The blows from a kiss could make her at peace.
Like is better than love in her world
No matter for lovers who would die for her; even the one's who fight to stay alive for her.

Sweet, icy words of non promise broken and shattered over their heads
Charring the holy hands of others with vengeance caused not by jealousy but a desire to be like her whom they aspire to be.

A day in rambunctious laughter makes her needs casual and makes wanting for nothing more of a need than air
Silk hats and gloved hands don't sway her eyes gaze
Silk is in her lungs just like the water was in the boy's in the lake
She lived away from home while people died in the Bottom.

The night brings a fit of sweat and heat from what is expected of her youth
Day brings new opportunity to leave the present behind leading her site in the familiarities of her journey in the past.
Ironically, others work hard to confirm her future.

Future is present. Past is what matters to Sula Peace. She lives forward but backwards ending the back and forth with a gaping stare and a mouth wide open for more even after pretty silk had left her.

26 October 2008

Soupy Rain

Alphabet scripture
Sprinkled out on Monday
Or was it Tuesday in the United Country?
No it pours there
And you were confessing as fast as pro fingers could type
Lacking only a pawn, which could never be advanced
Neither of us wanting to adjourn for fear of missing a sound of that repeated chime-
I can't see your hand
To save my life, my fantasy: my wife
My intentions for you with all my might
you are Her
Out there in the muddy trenches of youth and misfortune
Only tepid broth fills your mouth as it once did mine,
and the drops too big to welcome
Always come simmering down.
Warm and tempting enough-
Hallelujah! just in time!
to teach you a lesson.