Dear Father,
I have a gift for You
It is my blue shawl
But I apologize
Because it’s a bit stained
With old tears
From sad days
Like the time I was horribly alone inside my heart and out
And then I thought I was rescued by a person
He left me
Broken-hearted,
And there are tears from other times like
From watching “Terms of Endearment”
When Emma says goodbye to her boys.
Still, they are tear stains and I suppose that’s not sanitary.
I hope you don’t mind.
Dear Father,
I have a gift for You
It is my blue shawl
That I have cherished for years.
I used it to swaddle my babies
Each of them
After they were born.
And I wrapped it around those babes who grew to be children
When they forgot their coats
On cold days
And I remained shivering
But I didn’t mind.
Because my children are gifts
To be wrapped and kept warm.
Dear Father,
I have a gift for You.
It is my blue shawl
Which I’ve loved for years.
It was a gift to me from someone dear
And reminds me of her cheeriness
And laughter
And it carries the scent of cotton candy
Probably from the Shad Derby Fair
A beautiful day
My children running around
And my good friend buying an apple pie
That we ate together.
With one fork.
Dear Father,
This gift I have for You
Is filled with Love.
It’s such a tiny offering
Of my own love for You.
I wish it were larger.
The blessings You’ve heaped upon me
Were large indeed and plentiful.
Like the plentifulness of rain
On my head
As I ran to my car
From the office
But it was so far away
And all I had to cover myself
Was the blue shawl
That smelled of cotton candy
And was stained with tears
And baby goo.
It’s now wrapped nicely,
And it’s filled with Love.
(2009)
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Sunday, April 5, 2009
The Totem Book
On this day of an unspeakable pilgrimage
I was chastised for knowing the stumblings
of my footprints of my interminable soul
and for recalling my roaring voice as a man
and my whispering voice as a woman
many ages ago.
I had wandered through a cactus field
pricking my thighs and fingertips along the way;
spine-like fingers scratched into my ribs front and back
stimulating bitter, salty tears.
My blood did not shimmy along the collapsed,
lifeless capillaries
but I learned;
it is lesson of most importance.
I prayed for a final pilgrimage
(I heard a thousand bees buzzing "duty, duty" as I meditated).
I covered my swollen brown face in shame, of course;
I am condemned with this mask adhered to my suffocating Self!
I recalled a man who had reared me for a brief time.
He cooks, he stews over a boiling pot of misery,
he drinks and drinks;
his head is filled with unrelenting sorrowful memories;
his swollen brown face is covered with shame;
he suffers because he suffers.
I’ve tasted his salty, sick, intoxicated tears.
What had this man done?
I wish to utter "Father," but can not;
I desire to swipe with a brisk stroke,
the pain, captured in a moment and thrown
into a timeless zone.
The man’s face has change;
it is darker brown and deeper lined.
His heart was repaired with a scalpel, for awhile.
Now it beats a sad, slow, limping song.
One day the man murmured, "child, I want to call you friend"
I wished to utter "Father" just then.
But I could not.
And I know it is lessons of most importance.
(1988-1989)
I was chastised for knowing the stumblings
of my footprints of my interminable soul
and for recalling my roaring voice as a man
and my whispering voice as a woman
many ages ago.
I had wandered through a cactus field
pricking my thighs and fingertips along the way;
spine-like fingers scratched into my ribs front and back
stimulating bitter, salty tears.
My blood did not shimmy along the collapsed,
lifeless capillaries
but I learned;
it is lesson of most importance.
I prayed for a final pilgrimage
(I heard a thousand bees buzzing "duty, duty" as I meditated).
I covered my swollen brown face in shame, of course;
I am condemned with this mask adhered to my suffocating Self!
I recalled a man who had reared me for a brief time.
He cooks, he stews over a boiling pot of misery,
he drinks and drinks;
his head is filled with unrelenting sorrowful memories;
his swollen brown face is covered with shame;
he suffers because he suffers.
I’ve tasted his salty, sick, intoxicated tears.
What had this man done?
I wish to utter "Father," but can not;
I desire to swipe with a brisk stroke,
the pain, captured in a moment and thrown
into a timeless zone.
The man’s face has change;
it is darker brown and deeper lined.
His heart was repaired with a scalpel, for awhile.
Now it beats a sad, slow, limping song.
One day the man murmured, "child, I want to call you friend"
I wished to utter "Father" just then.
But I could not.
And I know it is lessons of most importance.
(1988-1989)
Shudder Utter Frantic
It’s shudder utter frantic
And your body’s twisting way
In our intertwining fray
Suddenly shuddering fluttering disarray.
Girl’s raking, sobbing, shooting manic
Forming skintight closures writhing this way.
Her fighting, sighing, breathing sounds
Are faked filled follies fooling boys in play.
He’s lopping premium pleasures
Caressing, addressing, wrestling and testing
Her affections, and reflections on daily duties
Quietly stooping, stamping and resting.
Cause no wailing, pained sailing, no flailing of
significant doings, only pure motives, voted
as oneness, togetherness rushing in heaping
Sex filled nights and loved soaked days.
(2002)
And your body’s twisting way
In our intertwining fray
Suddenly shuddering fluttering disarray.
Girl’s raking, sobbing, shooting manic
Forming skintight closures writhing this way.
Her fighting, sighing, breathing sounds
Are faked filled follies fooling boys in play.
He’s lopping premium pleasures
Caressing, addressing, wrestling and testing
Her affections, and reflections on daily duties
Quietly stooping, stamping and resting.
Cause no wailing, pained sailing, no flailing of
significant doings, only pure motives, voted
as oneness, togetherness rushing in heaping
Sex filled nights and loved soaked days.
(2002)
Seven Saints Came To Save Me
Seven saints came to save me,
kissed my flesh,
lectured my soul.
Damn their interfering ways.
Our soft long legs wrapped in linens,
rubbed with lemons, bathed in oils and
We danced on the edge of saneness.
Seven señoras tried to change me,
feed me olives,
washed my hair.
Damn their reality, damn their kindness.
Your soft true words stroke my breasts,
changed my mind, put ills to rest and
We danced on the edge of saneness.
Seven maidens tried to make me,
kissed my ears,
licked my chest.
Damn their beauty, damn their softness.
Our carnal kisses on secretive seasons
soaked with wet hopes, wrapped in touches and
We danced on the edge of saneness.
(2002)
kissed my flesh,
lectured my soul.
Damn their interfering ways.
Our soft long legs wrapped in linens,
rubbed with lemons, bathed in oils and
We danced on the edge of saneness.
Seven señoras tried to change me,
feed me olives,
washed my hair.
Damn their reality, damn their kindness.
Your soft true words stroke my breasts,
changed my mind, put ills to rest and
We danced on the edge of saneness.
Seven maidens tried to make me,
kissed my ears,
licked my chest.
Damn their beauty, damn their softness.
Our carnal kisses on secretive seasons
soaked with wet hopes, wrapped in touches and
We danced on the edge of saneness.
(2002)
Mexican Drink
She’s a Mexican drink
A bauble of pink
Passionate moans
Furtive groans
Her energy wounds
Far off bounds.
Dragging her hands
Across bones and bands
Of devout fans.
Her roots grow prolific,
down a body specific,
a captivating gesture
a test of the rest of her
Everything’s frenzied,
voraciously drinking,
A saucy pink Mexican drink.
She’s a dark-skinned meal
With heart to feel
for the drain and the strain
of passionate love
She eats souls of mischief
Made fat with the names
of several games
She finds engaging.
She’s there,
aware with perceptible care
Of her perfidious ways.
She makes requests now and then
and she whirls a passionate fury
and bends,
and finds lines,
and small signs that make no sense.
She begins again,
Looking for appetites to fill.
She’s there,
aware of her tempestuous ways
in days of light
and dark sparking
passionately deep
for a pink drink.
A bauble of pink
Passionate moans
Furtive groans
Her energy wounds
Far off bounds.
Dragging her hands
Across bones and bands
Of devout fans.
Her roots grow prolific,
down a body specific,
a captivating gesture
a test of the rest of her
Everything’s frenzied,
voraciously drinking,
A saucy pink Mexican drink.
She’s a dark-skinned meal
With heart to feel
for the drain and the strain
of passionate love
She eats souls of mischief
Made fat with the names
of several games
She finds engaging.
She’s there,
aware with perceptible care
Of her perfidious ways.
She makes requests now and then
and she whirls a passionate fury
and bends,
and finds lines,
and small signs that make no sense.
She begins again,
Looking for appetites to fill.
She’s there,
aware of her tempestuous ways
in days of light
and dark sparking
passionately deep
for a pink drink.
Manny Remote
Renowned.
Refreshed.
Baron renowned.
Mapper of youth’s wiliness.
Conveyor of soul surveys.
Creator of solar colors.
Founder of adventure-times.
Baron Manny decoder of scrambled mercies.
Remote.
Removed.
Manny remote.
Pacts made. Pacts removed.
Pactless Manny remote
Passionate years—of our youth-ness
Frugal times—of our jejuneness
Michelangelo of the days and nights
Baroness to Manny remote
Unbreathable, excitable, unimaginable
Flesh founder, soul maker
Manny loveness,
Our sacrosanct two-ness
Blended beings
Inviolable union
Unbreakable imperturbable love
Curving glistening fleshly doings
Requisite of Manny remote
Effortless for Manny remote
Lost in unpainted paintings
And unwritten writings
Imagined colorful collisions
And lostness and one-ness
In love-ness and lasciviousness
Lost in Manny remote
New year, new day, new moment
Restless wantings, artful happenings
Discardable darling
Our dreams made pactless
New dawn for Manny remote.
Lionized newness
Lioness mistress!
Overpainted canvas of Manny removed.
To new corners, new beddings, to newness.
Breathable young painters of freshness
Emptied newness.
Lioness bestowed affectations
Uttered blessings to Baron of Praise
And carnal affections
Winner, Queen of Remoteness
Winner Newness
Winner of Manny removed.
Bursted pacts, ruptured graces
Night time grays, daytime umbers, momentary beiges,
Pallid broken paintings,
And daily unspeakable remembrances
All of Manny remote
Scrambled mercies
Of Manny remote
Remote. Removed.
Manny remote.
(2007)
Refreshed.
Baron renowned.
Mapper of youth’s wiliness.
Conveyor of soul surveys.
Creator of solar colors.
Founder of adventure-times.
Baron Manny decoder of scrambled mercies.
Remote.
Removed.
Manny remote.
Pacts made. Pacts removed.
Pactless Manny remote
Passionate years—of our youth-ness
Frugal times—of our jejuneness
Michelangelo of the days and nights
Baroness to Manny remote
Unbreathable, excitable, unimaginable
Flesh founder, soul maker
Manny loveness,
Our sacrosanct two-ness
Blended beings
Inviolable union
Unbreakable imperturbable love
Curving glistening fleshly doings
Requisite of Manny remote
Effortless for Manny remote
Lost in unpainted paintings
And unwritten writings
Imagined colorful collisions
And lostness and one-ness
In love-ness and lasciviousness
Lost in Manny remote
New year, new day, new moment
Restless wantings, artful happenings
Discardable darling
Our dreams made pactless
New dawn for Manny remote.
Lionized newness
Lioness mistress!
Overpainted canvas of Manny removed.
To new corners, new beddings, to newness.
Breathable young painters of freshness
Emptied newness.
Lioness bestowed affectations
Uttered blessings to Baron of Praise
And carnal affections
Winner, Queen of Remoteness
Winner Newness
Winner of Manny removed.
Bursted pacts, ruptured graces
Night time grays, daytime umbers, momentary beiges,
Pallid broken paintings,
And daily unspeakable remembrances
All of Manny remote
Scrambled mercies
Of Manny remote
Remote. Removed.
Manny remote.
(2007)
Lizards and Apricots
Most of the time I find myself retracing my tracks
recalling dream morsels
like the time I watched two orange lizards dancing
on two legs
and one was fat and bright and full of advice
and the other was sickly and dull and lacking oxygen.
I tried to feed these lizards,
knowing nothing of their dietary needs
tossed them grasshoppers and grapes
and they danced some more
on two legs.
The air was filled was smells
of ripening apricots, peaches, and bananas
and noises sounding much like hisses.
A sonorous symphony of hisses
like two old lovers
fighting for the scent of my breath, my lizardy touch
filling me with their fruited attentions
and reminding the ego of its girth
on both legs.
recalling dream morsels
like the time I watched two orange lizards dancing
on two legs
and one was fat and bright and full of advice
and the other was sickly and dull and lacking oxygen.
I tried to feed these lizards,
knowing nothing of their dietary needs
tossed them grasshoppers and grapes
and they danced some more
on two legs.
The air was filled was smells
of ripening apricots, peaches, and bananas
and noises sounding much like hisses.
A sonorous symphony of hisses
like two old lovers
fighting for the scent of my breath, my lizardy touch
filling me with their fruited attentions
and reminding the ego of its girth
on both legs.
Enshrine Me
Enshrine me
Protect me
Provide me
Install me
with big hand affection.
Corrupt us
Undo us
Fleshy us
Silky us
made touchable, tasteful, unconquerable us.
Your scent
Your tongue
Your hardness
Your languishing
in this illuminated beechwood room of fateful affections.
(2002)
Protect me
Provide me
Install me
with big hand affection.
Corrupt us
Undo us
Fleshy us
Silky us
made touchable, tasteful, unconquerable us.
Your scent
Your tongue
Your hardness
Your languishing
in this illuminated beechwood room of fateful affections.
(2002)
Did You Know?
Did you know I’d know?
Did you know I’d know and fade cell by cell?
Did you know I’d fade and fade?
Could you’ve guessed
the consequence of diseasing the pact
cell by cell?
Did you know I’d cease
and know I dream of ceasing,
Nightly?
Nightly fading, nightly dying, nightly drying each cell in disease.
Did you know I’d be here, your disease-filled purgatory,
and I’d not cease to disease cell by cell?
Did you know I’d know this withering, this banishment
from what was?
Never that again.
Never me.
Never knowing I’d know what you know.
I didn’t know its possibility exists.
This putrid route,
this hellish dream,
this disease rack.
Self: where?
Or ‘when?’
We’re left with the flesh fragrance
of yesterday’s frolick
and tomorrow’s work.
Did I know this?
Did you know?
Did you know I’d know and fade cell by cell?
Did you know I’d fade and fade?
Could you’ve guessed
the consequence of diseasing the pact
cell by cell?
Did you know I’d cease
and know I dream of ceasing,
Nightly?
Nightly fading, nightly dying, nightly drying each cell in disease.
Did you know I’d be here, your disease-filled purgatory,
and I’d not cease to disease cell by cell?
Did you know I’d know this withering, this banishment
from what was?
Never that again.
Never me.
Never knowing I’d know what you know.
I didn’t know its possibility exists.
This putrid route,
this hellish dream,
this disease rack.
Self: where?
Or ‘when?’
We’re left with the flesh fragrance
of yesterday’s frolick
and tomorrow’s work.
Did I know this?
Did you know?
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