The Distance Between

These miles devour me
my skin peels in shreds like
remnants of tire treads
a smear on the roadside
like a bloodstain to be washed
away in the rain.

Pieces of myself collected
to be displayed as souvenirs
stretched too thin across
vast distances.

Eventually I lose myself
in the landscape
becoming nothing more
than another piece of forgotten
scenery.

My comings and goings
beginnings and endings
intermingled within interstates
pressed to the pavement
scars like potholes
shatter through my bones.

There is no air left in my lungs
deflated with only exhaust
burning my throat coughing up
gasoline and bleeding out antifreeze
with no where left to turn
stranded and abandoned.

Foreign Bodies

We breathe the same breath
quivering bodies
vibrations along my vertebrae
transcribing secret messages
beauty within the cold void
which exists between us.

I am your life
you are my death
locked within our sacred dance
imploding
exploding
flesh and bone
scattering throughout
the vast unknown.

Intimacy deeper than
the ocean depths
infinitely suspended in time
hummingbird heartbeats
a soundless scream
in deafening silence
we descend.

Unbidden together
swallowed
surrounded
shrouded inside you
we devour each other
serene chaos
over within the blink
of an eye.

Her Body is Her Tower

This is a modern interpretation of the Lady of Shalott. The title is a play on the fact that the Lady Shalott was literally imprisoned  in a tower, and without the right to get an abortion today a woman’s body may become her tower/prison

Her Body is Her Tower

Her life begins to ebb away
bound by in chains by the states
hour by hour; day by day

Trapped inside; forced to stay
to carry this burden became her fate
her life begins to ebb away

The only hope offered is to pray
sorry and bitterness solidify into hate
hour by hour; day by day

All her emotions shades of gray
held down by this heavy weight
her life beings to ebb away

All her nerves start to unfray
is she could end this she would not hesitate
hour by hour; day by day

For their glory and power she must pay
for her dreams it is too late
her life beings to ebb away
hour by hour; day by day

The Tyrannical Nine

It is fair that you wear
the color of mourning
for we mourn the loss
of your integrity, dignity, and honor,
and glibly you wear the blood
of the lives you so
cavalierly destroy.

It is right you wear
the color of mourning
for you have disgraced
your duty, and slaughtered
our rights so smugly.

It is just that you wear
the color of mourning
for within your courts
all justice as died,
and you deprived
the people of there
free will.

But though the color
of mourning suits you,
you should be stripped
of your robes, denied
the black of your office.

You should be marched
through the cities
clad only in your birthright
and whipped as you pass
those you have arrogantly
denied.

Arrogance

My body is a cage
within a cage
crafted by you

While seeking
to make the world
in your own image

You hold the keys
to life and death
liberty and suppression

Believing what us false
to be fact, writing
your own rules

You bask in our blood
salvaging the spoiled fruits
of the womb

Hearing whispers
were there is silence
singing praise amid
destruction

And when you are
the only one left
amid ash and bone

You will believe
you are saved!

Despite All My Rage…

I am one of those artists who admittedly creates best from a place of angst, and thus lately for a long time I had kind of hit a dry spell with my writing because a lot of my youthful angst had dissipated as a I grew older and things in my life changed for the better. Well in a way I have to say thank you world for reginiting all my rage. I have been in this real funk lately inundated with everything going on with Roe Vs Wade, and the decision that you do not deserve rights if you have a uterus and are not Christian. While listening to my angsty music last night it finally dawned on me, that yes, I need to channel this to fuel it back into my writing again.

So here are a couple of pieces I jotted down at midnight last night.

Your God is a Gun

Gun metal gray
against the temple
of my altar
I ingested your
poisoned fruit
its seed fermenting
inside of me
lying down
thorny roots
bleeding from the inside
you feast upon my flesh
seeking unholy divinity.

 

Bleeding Ink

I finally feel my rage
itching at the back of my skull
knocking against my bones
stretched thin under my skin
swelling for release.

I found again the means
to eviscerate myself
allow it to bleed out of me.

Maiden/Matron

I straddle between
two worlds
one a shadow of the other,
yet betwixt the two
is ever darker
more perilous land
to traverse.

Inhabiting a space
bordering the fertile valley
draped in her fine greenery,
beaming with life anew,
glowing in growth,
sprouting seeds

And the barren lands,
still; quiet; more subdued
with subtle, quaking, waking
beauty daring to be
trespassed.

Purity of the untouched
cannot be claimed
for the private Eden,
the oasis in the deert
has been exploited,
explored, discovered.

But it will not transition
into something budding,
waiting to sow and grow,
denying to give back
what has been taken.

I hold the balance
between two worolds
that can never intersect
through one may cross into
the other there is a point
of no going back.

I refuse to fall
into the place predestined
by man
walking the impossible thread
to lose a maidenhead
but reject the gain of motherhood.

Dark Heart

Down beneath the surface
a dark heart beats,
unseen; unknown
it waits to be remembered,
cries out for reckoning,
longing to be touched
before it shrivels
into the bitterness
of oblivion,
only a whisper
like bird song
or a promise in the wind
will breathe new life,
to have her name
spoken again.

Indigo Heart

Let my body
Let my body
Let my body go

Let my mind
Let my mind
Let my mind
Slip into the snow

And I dream
A frozen dream
With nowhere left
To go

Slipping in
Slipping out
I want to drift
Into your flow

From afar
A distant spark
I can see it glow

Close my eyes
See behind
Feel my heart
Pumping indigo
Yet its not too late

There is still an escape
From this fragmenting
Tableau

Let my body
Let my body
Let my body
Know

Unwanted Maternity

There was a battle of malice
between us in our separate
but intertwined worlds,
your world inside of me
in parasitic existence,
my world outside of you
with the freedom
you battle to acquire.

The violence to escape my habitation,
they all say you are the innocent
but you will be born bathed in my blood
with a battle cry and the constant
desire to suck me dry.

I resent your residency
inside of me though they say
that is heartless and cruel,
but I never asked to play
the role of your host.

So you rebel with the ability you have,
making me not myself,
trying to break me down,
demanding everything I have.

But I have my own devices,
I will not whelp you at my breast,
I will not look upon your face,
I will play the part of the Cuckoo
and deposit you in someone else’s nest.

Then we can be clear of each other,
we will have no further claims,
no debts between us,
no lingering bonds.