The    Poetry

 

Begging Tree

 

The fear of the deep keeps us in the deep

Down dark in those terrible yawning canyons of the world

Free to be like a bird and soar above

The insanity of the present tense

Can’t be everything that it once was able to mean as it

Jumped out the window at 90 mph faster than

The speed of my new cable modem connecting me in

Ways I never thought or knew to be possible

To people and places and events I don’t even begin

To understand the nature of kind of like

My own nature with its ins and outs and everything living

In between the holes in my soul where darkness breaks breathes and

Steals hope right out of me…

 

Sunshine breaks upon my nails glittering in their

Imperfection and I’m demanding answers to the crazy insanity

I’ve come to accept as being a part of my soul

Slowly destroyed by the wind shamelessly driving at me

By the tone of the music deafening me into calm

Calamities have been avoided recently avoided by the most simple of means

Stretch myself out for air to breathe upon the sand not the earth

Because the sands are my Garden of Eden

Nothing needs to come closer only to go further from anything I’ve known

The heat blinds and captures; the heat fills me with control

Over this insanity driving against the harsh snows glaring into glaring white

Somewhere there will be a noose and a begging tree for me

 


 

Secret Rendezvous

 

Heaven says “Take me home tonight”

I’m going to stretch out under the yawning moon

Let the night’s candles dance windmills in my hair

As I swallow the blinking stars and

Learn how to prepare for the night when I can have heaven

And never again feel cold like polished stone,

Hiding me in a cell deep down, that chasm you refer to as a soul,

Locking me away for the times you want to play.

I know the rules this time around to your

Child’s game of cops and robbers in a field.

Do you know that I’m playing too?

I know this may disappoint you to no end,

The way I’m learning to bend and mold to the wind’s whims.

My little one, fear nothing in this curse

Save my growing ability to use your grown-up words,

As every night I’m still going to break for you

Even those nights when you hold me

And the moonlight shines on the cherry

Steel crucible I’m locked into

I’m still going to wonder where you are

Even when your eyes can glance to mine

While you pause to consider our joined madness

Consider yourself separate and alone and

Mad to the core with a fury unleashed in set of

Two – the only couplet you’ll even know

 


 

Red Line 

 

It’s as if I’m standing in front of the caverns again,

The New Mexico sun drenching my back,

But it’s New Mexico Avenue I’m only blocks from,

Staring into the gaping mouth opening to the underbelly of DC.

Though dark, the squeals of machinery echo to the sidewalk,

Like mournful trumpets lacking oil.

All around me, click, thunk, click, thunk,

The clatter of high-heels on steel as I descend

Into an eerie fluorescent glow,

Their harsh noise trying to ruin the moment of music.

 

The tile reaches forward suddenly, grasping at

The self-releasing staircase hundreds of feet underground,

Mechanical air, hot like asphalt in July,

Rushing through the cavernous way hollowed from the concrete,

The wind’s foul fingers irritating

Skin that would once soften at a simple touch,

Shoving and ripping my hair that once glided

Through his tender fingers.

 

There is no one here to caress anything,

Alone in the urban maze, the endless

Alphabet of streets,

squares and circles,

Trapped in a box of light,

hurtling

Through the deep,

My mind jumps the track -

I miss you.

 


 

Guilty Mind  

 

We were the trusted, she and I ---

Never mind that we didn’t deserve it.

We took advantage of his trust, his sweetness

By sneaking and stealing, moments, each other

It didn’t matter, I suppose, the secrecy –

He never found out,

I never had to explain,

What kind of best friend

I was every time he almost caught us.

 

When I was young, I knew stealing was wrong,

No extra gum for my pockets from checkouts.

But what of a girl, living and breathing

Making her own choice?

No arrests to be made, no cold cell,

Only a fall from grace and my own

Guilty mind dredging up those memories while I stand

In the supermarket, years later, and he’s next to me.

 

The gum is daring me, “Be a man,” barks the Wrigley’s,

“Do what you should have done years ago, back before you

Refused to buy gum because it reminded you of her.”

I offer him a dazed grin to his quizzical question and ignore the gum,

Who am I to relieve my guilt at his expense? 

 



Twin Figurines                                                                                                                

 

In the shadows of the armoire,

Dust coats their features in the fine grime of time.

Cluttered by knickknacks,

All the world represented in gold and bronze,

Yet one is shiny, porcelain of junk store glory,

The other, a relic of gunshots and rapid refugees,

Her statue of the Old World.

 

I wonder if they know their history,

These two porcelain statues,

Does one recall dust and a dollar price tag,

The other the care of a craftsman,

The drone of planes overhead?

Can the maiden on the swing know anything but eternal content,

Her placid grin as her companion freezes with his hand,

Pushing, pushing, pushing from behind?

 

Through the marred glass, I am staring so hard at them -

Paint seeping into the folds of her dress,

Brilliant fuchsia fading to dull pink,

Over a whitewashed petticoat now antiqued cream,

Even the tiny flowers have lost their spring.

 

Why are they still here,

Hidden in this corner of the porch,

The European figurine of proud lineage,

And her imposter twin.

 

The woman who put them here answers no questions,

Not for them, not for their time or place,

So they hide their memories with them,

In the thousand folds of two endless skirts,

Shimmering and muted alike, two by two,

Surrounded by the clutter of my grandmother

Her attempts to be as she was

Before the great war,

With gunshots, barbed wire, emptying rail cars,

But mostly the endless procession of life turning to death,

This was before the war, the war she almost lost

Against herself.

 



The Vanishing Race   

 

Carved on ancient earth, every man’s tomb,

Shadows move as figures of a funeral procession,

Not black and white, but sepia with age,

Light glows, unreachable above the far ridge,

An alien canyon that’s coal to the base,

Its darkness points the way to the end of

What Curtis called “the vanishing race”.

 

They have passed into shadow, yet not vanished

From a memory etched into sepia canvas, encased 

By smoked glass and chipped gold frame –

They are still real in this captured moment,

This trek across ancient lands of the Navajo.

 

The living shades ride on, not looking

To foreign peaks nor rays to the west.

They see only the cracked mud and dry stalks,

The desert blaze no match for deeply tanned, worn skin.

For this has been home…

The scraps of brush, cactus, and rattle of snake –

                White man’s hell.

 

These riders look to the freedom of desert,

I note that one rides apart, refusing to file along, proud,

Yet still, the soft clop of hoof is defeated by dust.

The men’s sable hair is twisted in severe knots,

Horses’ tails hang limp, nearly sweeping the trail,

As if to say, “The prints have been erased --- 

nothing left behind.” 

 



Six  

 

It’s late, my nose pressed to the glass forming,

A thin circle of fog surrounding my skin -

I’m that latch-key kid,

The fluorescent lights hum silently to me, about to close.

Six o’clock, don’t you know where your mom is?

Mine’s out there in the black beyond, appearing

Full of impatient apology.

 

Five, six minutes of fields and farm, and I get out

At the top of the driveway, collecting the mail.

In the blinding headlights, I jump,

Big stone to big stone,

Avoiding the sandy pebbles as if a swollen brook,

The crunch of the tires behind me urging me on,

Only to hastily climb concrete stairs,

My moment in the lights over

As I hurry to get out of the way.

 

Inside, the house is like pitch,

No one’s been home yet to turn on the lights.

I’ve never bothered with light anyway, even now.

 

I just take the stairs as I always do, and the elephant parade follows,

Thumping along on four legs, paws and whiskers colliding,

To settle into dust bunnies and boxes,

Or even the high citadel in the rafters,

A dangling calico tail the only trace.

These are my companions, their purrs the only music I knew for years.

 

And my mother still seems to wonder why I like the dark so much.

 



Brunch with Mom  

 

We’re waiting in line, Sunday breakfast, the two of us,

I’m old enough now, I understand

I am my mother’s daughter.

As I glance down the waiting list, to the door,

And the screaming brat of a child,

Her clichéd mom smiles, deep in conversation,

Ignoring if not encouraging the child’s antics,

Until she finally scoops her up with a smile as if to say,

This is a perfectly normal way to raise a child.

 

My mother was never one who hugged a lot,

Who cried, who kissed the pain away -

She told me to get a band-aid out of the drawer and get on with it,

The cleaning or the lawn or whatever else

My crocodile tears were protesting

I didn’t want to continue.

 

I remember, quite small, wanting her to be

A cheerful PTA mom, my own

Private cheering squad at the basketball court.

I wanted her to make cookies and host sleepovers,

Where all my friends would agree,

My mom was the best there ever was.

Then she would smile charmingly and be perfect –

Though it’s not cruel to say she never was.

 

I’ve gotten older, my mother isn’t perfect,

She still answers hurt with firm instruction,

Tears with logic, but I can look

At her and know it all makes sense,

That in the end, banishing the easy way out

Was the hardest choice for her,

The best for me.

 



A Quest  

 

It’s 2 AM. The pedal approaches the floor, one, two, three, endless lights blink into the night. Yellow, green, red, it all means the same: I should be in bed by now. No reason, just whim, just whimsy, and it hits, wham, kind of like whiskey, nothing makes sense but everything really does, a drunken madness. I’m not drunk - I’m just lost on the road I travel everyday, the same 13.5 miles back and forth. Above, beyond the blinking lights, the pink and orange glow of night in America races by through my sunroof. It’s night in those places called “uncivilized” where they sit beneath a million visible stars and ask the real questions, without a cell phone to monitor stocks and bonds and babysitters of future doctors and lawyers, but I’ve got dreams in my head of them anyway. Fights are fought with sticks and stones, and the minor injuries are frequent but old age kills most. Here, the orange and pink clouds choke the sleepers. Cancer, leukemia, disease, the mystery appearances of skin, no, not a human shade, and so quick to go under the knife for the big maybe… maybe we’ll bleed to death from a tiny nip or missed slice, right there on the table, cold air swooshing in at a steady, precise rhythm. Out beneath that same sky, awake and free, I’m breathing, full of air, full of movement. Wind on my face, rush of the street in my ears, the tires are the only connection I feel with the earth. Slide here, slide around this and that and come to a halt at oblivion.

 


 

Escape Attempt   

 

I wear lilies in her inky hair as I glide along,

A candle in my fingers, wax dripping along my broken nails,

My feet are bare but I can’t feel the earth, cold, packed -

I just sweep down the path, a stream over rock.

 

This isn’t proper and I can’t quite forget that,

My heart thudding in mockery of my silent steps,

Even the candle’s whispering flickers make me jump,

As the boughs clatter and scrape together, a threat

To send me alone into the inky night.

 

The moon makes its debut from behind the clouds,

In a rush to bare witness to this intrigue,

But I wish it had stayed where it was and there was simply

No one to watch.

 

Though I burn my fingers trying to protect it, the flame goes out,

I am plunged into the lonesome dark, and miss the moon as,

Icy fingers of wind give a sudden shock to my flaming cheeks.

The world stops with me, and shivers in the cold,

But I lick my lips and press on, the same desire that drove me

From her cozy bed urging.

 

I come to it and sits upon it,

This boulder in the middle of the wood and waits,

The designated spot at the designated time, my prayer out of a designated life,

Until the hours go down and the sun arrives with a message:

There is no knight coming to take me away.

 



Liar

The cat did it I swear -
A piece of string gone awry, 
Until that gentle beast sprang forth and attacked
Leaving lines

of perfect symmetry.
There he sits innocent beneath a breath of sun,
While you insist I haven’t been home in days.

It might have been the thorns then,
With their nasty little fingers shredding the olive rich --
I ran too fast and my fake smile caught up with me.
And I sit pretty with not a callus to be seen,
While you insist I haven’t left the city in days.

The oven caught me off my guard -
I didn’t know to move quickly.
In shock I left my arm there to scald with never a word,
And your eyes glance at the blood beneath my nails,
Insisting I haven’t cooked in days.

I tripped and fell on gravel,
Cast headlong in my clumsiness,
I scraped and slid my way into

these shredded scars,
Which your eyes see as neat spindles of red –

And insist gravel would bruise and scrape,
Not slash neatly, as if I’m counting the days.

Ice-skates, a slip on the ice brought out that raw rich red -
I don’t have the balance for that so I crashed,
And exploded across the frozen sky.
But the deep blue above reflects your eyes as you sigh,
And insist, it’s just another summer day.

 



Souvenir

 

Sweetness and sourness whisper like silk

Against flesh bruised and battered

By a stale scent of cancer stick --  

A self-motivated sickness in the head,

Buried under 50 tons of gravel,

Concrete and steel glass beams,

Constructions of the mind, holding on tighter

Than brand new brakes

I’ll never use like so much waste…

Wasted times, wasted breath, spent sucking

Imperfections of people, of myself –

That person I should trust and simply don’t

She’s a souvenir of a mind trip,

Directions to a person I once knew

Before she took flight from the barrel of a gun,

That gun she held pressed tight to her

Chest, wrist flat, flat lined –

The squeal of silence echoing in the night.

 

 



 

America: Part 2   

 

America I’ve worked for you since I was fourteen.

I have no savings account to show for it.

America you gave me a plastic credit card and on it the sun is setting,

Or is it rising… America, you tell me.

America can you stop the bill collectors?

You made me afraid to open my mail once, can you do it again?

America can I tell the bill collector that I’m afraid of the guy at post office,

The guy that puts the white powder in my mail?

America can you stop our kids from buying white power on the streets?

I’ve seen that white powder on my daddy’s nose and it’s not pretty.

 

America you never made me feel good about myself.

You want me to go on a diet so I can be a size four.

America, you make sizes so small, they need two zeros.

Your obesity is astounding.

America another diet is not the answer.

There would be no need to purge if only you would learn to cease the binging.

America why can’t you get it right the first time?

America I look around and wish the British had won and I don’t care if it’s not patriotic.

America sometimes I want you to fuck the Constitution,

I want you to get down on your knees, grab that second amendment and swallow lead.

America your “equality” is bullshit and you know it.

 

America I know you hate me every once in a while, but

You are not as beautiful as you think.

The marching army of plastic surgeons doesn’t scare me.

I don’t care if the white coat mafia out numbers the pediatricians,

It’s just sad that your plastic smile comes first.

America your bleached teeth need to get out of my way, because I’m going to be a star.

America you’ve told every kid on my block he’s going to be a millionaire.

America the $30,000 watch is ticking.

America did you know in China the streets are paved in their rising gold?

Number one is slipping, I’m warning you,

To your east the united are prospering and the green money is falling into the sewer.

America you were founded on a lack of respect,

How did you think the world would ever give you any?

America your imports are more popular than you.

America your people are dying.

You made yourself on the cowboy’s rampage,

The cowboy has lost the west.

America I’m looking at you right here, right now,

I’m not afraid to say I don’t like the face in the mirror.

America I’m obsessed with that damn face in the mirror,

I spend an hour everyday staring and picking and poking and covering.

I spend more hours than that covered in food and I’m always hungry.

 


 

Hidden 

 

Walking in Times Square, fresh out of Carnegie Hall, and my steps echo hollow on the pavement though I’m not alone and my eyes know it. It’s after midnight and every step I take is another dream of Kerouac, all those fools, for whom “alarm clocks fell on their heads every day for the next decade”. The neon of the city is astounding and I wonder if I’ve stumbled right on into the daylight… Did 1955 glow in the streets like this? I can see all of them, Kerouac, Burroughs, Ginsberg, drunk on each other and life in the Times Square of strip clubs and sex shops, laughing as they clutch each other in the middle of the road, giving the cabbie the finger. As the man beside me takes in the view, I can hear the drunken catcalls of the party boys determined to continue the merriment right to the sheets. I wish I were there to hang out the windows with them and trust to the raindrops to be my angels. But it’s walking back to the train station for me, panic in the dark, and I feel foolish because I get lost. I can feel them watching me, scared of the dark, stupid DC girl doesn’t understand the big bad subway, but maybe they would be proud of me --- I don’t trust the cops.

 



 

A Quarrel of Love  

 

Ginsberg, you say love makes the weight on our shoulders crushing.

 

Well, tonight I’m knocking on your crumbling casket,

I want to have a chat.

Love, you say, love?

It makes it hard for me to breathe,

Sometimes I trip over my myself,

But I can’t say it makes my shoulders sag under the burden.

 

Ginsberg, look around these lonely streets ---

Surely you understand hate, oppression?

I know it’s quite original of you to say love

Is what holds us down, not hate, not the usual faces in the lineup.

 

Ginsberg, this little tête-à-tête of ours is coming to a point –

I say to you, apathy is the damnation of us all.

Rage is never as fiery as when met with nothing,

Love, never quite as determined to make itself known as when ignored.

 

What is more dangerous than someone with nothing

To lose, nothing to pull their heart strings?

We all need love, not to burden us,

but to lift us from the apathetic,

To make our lives worth a damn.

 

I’m going home now, and I’m leaving you here,

Behind the wrought-iron gate, among the stones,

I’m going to let you ponder love –

I’m going home to it.