She spoke no word of recognition. Words
would salt the sting of the blow to my head.
Avert my gaze away, her stare still burns.
The smile she offers has me beckon for death.
Oh why’d I strip the pseudonym and bare
each letter for these strangers? Could she find
me by my stutter or face sans long hair?
I doubt it, but my name will transcend time.
The brute will always pierce the flesh, the shame
will pour. I’ll have to fly away again.
Archive for the 'Blank Verse' Category
Traitorous Name Tag
March 2, 2009Dream of D.
March 2, 2009Another dream reminds me what I lost-
in only sleep I hear her voice again,
I knead her shoulders, wade her milky skin,
inhale the scent of clove she flaunts when out,
and dine on that nubile visage she paints
with rich pastels that make addicts of monks
made blind by every thought she robs, invades
with ass that can eclipse the sun and chill
the sea. Medusa’s stare makes stone of hands
and feet (and more). Her eyes can crumble walls
I build, lace stumbles wills, and dreams corrupt
the phoenix flight. Dementia. The eternal night.
Missing
February 7, 2009Oh, green-eyed heavenly angel, whose face
shames the shine of the sun, whose golden crown
became the holy Grail I drank from eight months,
whose words planted seeds in rock to bear fruit
anew, who cast away the dogs who stalked
me home, when you vanished eight years ago,
my heart, my mind, my head left on a search
for you. They still have not returned. Like you.
Pearls
February 1, 2009I plant each seed in patches of Eden,
handpicked first fruits from the limbs of the roots
sweetened by the wine of Calypso’s emerald sea,
seasoned with the salt of the mystic saints,
fattened with the manna of warrior cherub,
warmed by the furnace beating at the core.
The tree is chopped into a basket,
forbidden fruit is cooked into a pie,
and a lock of hair is sewn into a bow
and wrapped around the handle.
Then I throw it away when I give it to you,
not a lady, but a swine who digests it all
to the final syllable and responds to it all
with gas you shit out of your mouth.
All You Are
July 8, 2008No longer do I see the girl I loved.
No longer do I see the blessed virgin
whose gravity crushed serpentine heads, weighed
on hearts adrift in clouds. I only see
a little girl in habit hoping men
indulge her famished soul with attention.
I see not an ocean bubbling with life
as wise as dolphins, hues as wide as whales,
waves white as the envious nimbi above.
I dipped my head beneath and saw nothing
but sand. Small, flat, still pieces of pebbles.
The light tricked me with my own reflection.
I glimpse no garden needing guard by swords
aflamed. Beyond the gates are plains as far
as birds can fly, eyes see, man ventures. Grass
is barely green, those trails plowed by boyfriends
of old who left your hills white and eyes blue.
No seed escaped the abortionist’s touch.
Every flower, each tree, every apple
was poached from passerbys. Nothing’s your own.
Except your breasts. Those glorious breasts! Heaven-
ly moons of Jupiter, celestial beings
grabbing me with gravity of Uranus,
casting my words, my breath out to Pluto.
No night ends without choking, without dying
at the mere thought of the twin babels. That
is all I see. But that is enough for me.
