Junkies

children

Swimming through the rivers

Of blood and poppy mists

Strung out tied up fucked off

Blueprinted into disaster

Burning and broken

Bones cracking mutilaton

horror illuminated 

Gasping for air

A heart beating out of control

Little legs aching to run 

Fingers desperate and undefined

Comfort just out of reach

Always hungry for more

This is no life for them 

Mourn them before breath

A sweet death

Is humane 

interdependent web of existence

tears of the damned

numbers and numbers and numbers

representing individuals

representing

a man with a plan

a woman wanting to make bread

a child who loves rain

we watch numbers without names

names have too much value

when we hear names

the strings of attachment to humanity

pull too hard, decisions begin forming

actions feel necessary

 

200,000 people

one man who wanted to build a house

one young man in love with one young woman

one 70 year old man who just wanted to sleep without bombs

one 3 year old girl who never read

one 8 year old girl who loved the stars

one human being essential to the future

tragic

200,000 human beings with names and dreams and goals essential to the future

i wail for the loss of humanity

i weep for the transference of names to numbers

i cry for the percentages

i yearn desperate for what we have lost

i burn inside for the time

humanity overthrows the prejudice, power, division

i will keep the names of those who lived

those who have to face it again and again

etched in my soul

for the dead no longer pray

they no longer cry tears of the damned

 

 

 

red dirt, yellow grass and pecan pie

when i was a little girl

deep texas accent and a head of golden curls

big blue bonnets and big blue eyes

i remember holding my daddy’s hand

and we would kneel by the side of the bed

in unison making the sign of the cross

saying our prayers and sending our blessings

i remember the bedtime stories

princesses, monsters, goats, wickedness

i remember the voice that he used for golem

while reading the hobbit under the canopy

i remember the nights of the full moon

half asleep, barefoot, rain or drought

the feral family we were howling like wolves

i remember thinking my daddy was god

i remember thinking my daddy beat god

i remember the constant looks of disappointment

i relived the never-ending torment of never being enough

the loneliness of loss while standing in the same room

i remember the day i stopped having a daddy

it was the last day of childish hope

one day i met the man, the mortal flawed person

he was not wodin*, he was not rübezahl*, he was

i was able to love my daddy for being a man not a god

my daddy began to love me for doing good things

passionately imperfect and flawed

i was no saving grace, i was no mary, i was

we parted this world knowing each other in truth

we sat eye to eye honest and loving with our hearts

i can feel the parts of me that are him come alive

he comes to life in my children

when they refuse to submit

when they believe with their everything

when they love from deep down

i hear him when i hear bb king and lucille

i see him in the sun rise and in the smoky mountains

nothing ever ends it changes, morphs, evolves

but the curtain never falls for good….

just long enough to change the scenery

————————————————

 

*wodin: the saxon name for the more commonly known norse god odin.  both are germanic languages, and related just different areas and different spellings.

*rübezahl: from old german folklore (but the geographical location is different than modern european germany) a mountain spirit.  he was a trouble-maker and kinda overall weirdo trickster.  he liked playing practical jokes, especially using the weather.  growing up and hearing some of the old tales, i thought of my dad’s uncle ted who was one of the funniest weirdest guys i ever met.  i didn’t have a grandpa, and uncle ted played that role-the pull my finger guy.  he had a dog named “little britches” and we would go out to his farm where there was no electricity and he would have peppermint candies, he would ask if we wanted one while he was feeding one to little britches.  of course it was sugar so we would all scream “yes yes we want one!!!” to which he would reply “you are such nasty children who eat dog food!!!!  you eat dog food!!!”  he would run around throwing peppermint hard candy at us while we squealed and he would just be laughing bc we ate dog food.  my dad was exactly like that too.  it was hard for people to meet him and not like him, and he was just silly.

erosion of my stone heart

i thought we would hold hands forever

i have fought your demons and monsters

begging and bargaining to keep you safe

processed pressed turkey loaf and instant tea

plastic spoons for everyone’s protection

i walk the memories in the hallway of my mind

i find pictures of who we used to be

the romanticized versions of the you and the me

i have always been able to tell myself lies

i tried to love you sane

i wanted to love you happy

i wished to love you to life

but i am not enough to live for you

i took the belt, the shame, the wrath

when he exploded in blind rage

i wouldn’t eat until you ate first

i was a child raising someone else’s child

i would have gouged my eyes to keep you from crying

i am no saint

i am no pacifist

broken fingers, black eyes, fist fights, name calling

and more and more and more and more

two lifetimes of more

words like carbon monoxide suffocating your kids

phone calls, threats, lies

calculating measurements ensuring scar-tissue:

“it’s taking you so long to die…just do it already!”

red and blue flashing lights men in uniform on my porch

love for a girl and a boy while refusing you access

denying you the ability to steer my life

gives justification for an avant garde war of the roses

i have given up on the illusion of sisterhood

i learned you will never ask how i am doing

i learned i don’t need you to ask

i learned my soul can sing and shine

i can laugh from deep inside without worry or shame

when there is no smog or poison wringing all of me

i hope you find a happiness one day

daddy’s last wish was i take care of you

but i have to say goodbye and i can not say hello again

 

 

 

the lovely & talented dichotomy

thunder, searing flesh, bells, whispers

laughter, harsh demands, echoing

sending 3 billion galaxies

universally, unilaterally, uniformly

writhing, rhythmic gyrations

waves crashing inside of life

moving in, out, through

no permission needed

carrying with it all secrets

osmosis, baby!

repression/rejuvenation/regurgitation

it’s not about fair

it’s about seconds, months, decades

it’s about the verbs, nouns, descriptives

thinking, loving, gripping, screaming

diamond tears and sapphire giggles

immerse into the pool, marinate in divinity

footsteps can start earthquakes

euphoria and agony have always been bedmates

 

kathleen

frantic phone calls

pulling off dirty clothes

and sliding into clean duds

tears and fears and dread

speeding down the highway

fuck a ticket, fuck a speed limit

getting slightly turned around in our hometown

the white cross is the hospital

jumping through fire and walking tightropes

inside outside front back

twisting turning labyrinth of metal and death

we found our clan, thinking we had time

another chance to kiss a hand

another word to whisper in the ear

just one more moment

but we were too late

when the body was free

no monitors

no plastics

tubes

beeps

they came to get us

the solemn walk to analyze death’s work

the job had been done thoroughly

she could not have been more abscent

there was no sign or trace or memory of her in the room

but in the eyes of  “H” there she was

and when “L” laughs, that is her

she dances inside

genetically and enviromentally

for decades we smashed skulls

mostly because we are much too pig headed

she ushered me into motherhood

and held my hand as i crossed

into the neither here nor there

the patient time

we did have the years of laughter

the phone calls of joyful love

——————————————-

thank you, kathy

thank you for:

eli

fran

heather

jeff

jolee

lauren

lili

micah

neil

sam

saoirse

and fruit salad

we will write stories and songs about you

the kindness and love

we will light candles and celebrate

and we will cry because it’s hard to be apart

thank you for the past 21 years

the magical mystery of the batshit crazy

i am firmly

singular owner of my body

there is only one entity

that may decide

what i will and won’t do

not a system

not a government

not a body of radical weirdos

the only thing in this world

that will and can keep

me

from life is

me

i was born into a certain social caste

indoctrinated into beliefs

sometimes i doubt

do i believe my beliefs

do i believe my consciousness

are my emotions reactions

mine or familial baggage

bestowed on me

was i taught

directly or indirectly

it doesn’t matter

that all people are equal

this was not a running philosophy my family

slurs and exceptions

my

reactions and self discipline

not to fall into that pit is still chained to them

ways and comprehensions

confuse and leave me

in constant semi-terrified states

a bitterness sits in the back of the throat

the cold, trail-less landscape of self discovery

a mixture of toxic and tincture

facing the demons

fighting the mist and ghosts

old enemies come back

prepared for a battle

over the sanity of my life

doubt

abandonment

allowing them to act as my mirror

mountains to hurdle

my mind is as free

as a mind can be

i do not bow

break for anyone

i am simply personified

a holistic woman undefined

there have been video game-like barriers obscuring my travels

my direction

but the trail

hope

light

peace

whispers in the wind

the song of birds

i hold my head high

for no reason besides humanity

i am a part of the web of life

i will not get out alive

what happens after that

questionable and debatable

while i am here

i can leave a footprint

i will be better on the way out