On the Rocks
They ask how it comes so easily.
I mix it together with some modesty
and vacancy within the soul.
To mold and create
something more
than it would have meant before
was to be my goal
and my life to its core.
I've bled many pens
just to say what no other woman tried.
I've bent the pages day and night
just to get a word in
before the rest slept tight.
But I'd echo because they,
who drive me to poetry,
know they are forever different.
They know deep in their hearts
that what I meant
was truer than the failed start
on the very first turn.
They know they'll burn
in my thoughts
until I get to the better of myself.
But they snuck away,
knowing the lies would die
on the shelves in their souls,
on the spells of our memories.
They should know
that they can never leave
once they have returned.
071200
Twistandslide
We want action
Slow on TV
I never saw us whither
I just thought it was me
A man once told me
Never talk to strangers
to be high was to be true
but I never knew fiction from reality
So I took a hit
Only fiction makes sense
It was sweet like candy
I would write a memoir
Soft like satin
but it would be too revealing
hard like the rail
too rough to come down
one of the paradoxes
Being yourself
that ring forever true
stars with believing
I never knew you
So I'll settle down
So I will light up
take a deep breath
let two worlds collide
maybe I'll find you
within the twistandslide. 071600
In Less than 16 Seconds
Growing children for TV.
I rolled the dice
and got a three.
Thrice and everything nice,
to make believe
I was in destiny's way
of handling the tough matters
of every day,
and I will kiss away
every way I'm cheap and single,
worn out and bleeding--
sort of like the rag
in our symbolic shower
of flowers, of dreams.
Even those fantasies
with inside out queens
and other kinky things
we've talked of--
a love? Sort of for democracy,
less poverty,
a Christmas tree
with broken flashing lights
that were once a warning.
Fuck the caveat.
It's time to taste the whole lot.
As we were busy screaming,
your TV connection was lost.
071600
UnNumbered TaXi
Do you think you're better off alone
with those tears in your eyes,
weeping away innocence blindly
like the sermons every Sunday.
I'm in a traffic jam,
winding through obstacles
and equally confused people
who are as angry as I,
as rebellious as the other guy
only below the belt.
And blood--my God, he knows that taste
on his thigh, on my lips,
and a thousand other quips
we pass onto our children
for salvation
from leaning towers,
from fateful showers
that should be cleansing...
I thought about defending
the musical geniuses,
the gourmet chefs,
the cheating gamblers,
the beaten wives.
I thought I thought too much
about my life,
but I'm afraid.
I'll make my plane on time
and salvage my roots.
071700
Shattered Jewels
I remember the "Age of Innocence"
and standing with his girl
in front of the stage.
We both searched for him.
She was lonely and insecure.
I just knew more than before
about this everlasting silver in his eyes.
I wanted to checkup
on him again.
This time I thought we'd live
without shame;
this time I'd unrobe
and show jewels
only seen by ruptured virgins
on summer nights...
yes, tonight I'd donate
a privilege to his egotistical story
where he might even proclaim
his loss of innocence.
But, no, I stopped him--
remember his girl
swimming through oceans to find him
because she was young
and beautiful
and didn't know any better.
It was just as he wanted,
and in a fit of rage
he thought it was I whom he wanted.
I knew better than he,
as if I was in more power than he.
I knew she was not she.
I knew I wouldn't take him away.
I told him to wait for a different lover,
more of a virginal slave. 071100
Never To Be Trusted
Looks like she did it again.
Got caught up in merry men
and drunken women
too heavy to carry their own weight,
too fast to trust fate
though it was painted on his shirt.
Hail the shadows;
they tell truths graver
than the paths you and I will take.
No one can be new;
we're all tainted and decorated
with numbers,
tar and feathers,
and laughter will always echo
from the bell towers
above our deathbeds.
She'll smoke up to the skies
for the effect.
She'll shuffle three decks
in her game
with mermen
stuck upon the stairs to heaven.
They'll swim again,
but only with her in their heads.
Looks like she did it again.
071200, #649
North
Mermen face North
as to wish fears of drought away.
And here they lay,
at the virgin's feet
as if to say, "Forever."
(Virgins don't know any better.)
She'll pierce the grapes
of the thorny vines
because it's easier
in one big ruffle
than sequences of
sequins and feathers.
Glittered as to be
blinded by something better.
No one took her,
but she bled anyway.
Virgins believe in forever,
the grapes of their wines
never sweeter.
Somehow the day will sway
and lay down
to take her pride away.
Only then can we tell her the truth.
071200
Swimmin' in your Sherry glass
I got my strength.
I got my beaded bracelets,
flag in the wind.
I got my bag on my back,
and I'm ready to face the grind,
the skid, the pressure
to be better than the first.
Others have moved into the future
faster than their feet
could have carried them naturally.
(C'mon, you smelled it on his breath.)
I looked up,
and it came to me one day
to rearrange, to walk away
and find my brothers
unaware. My sisters
dye their hair and
kill their gut instinct
so they can swallow more happy pills.
They forgot the sweet
in their bitter, worthless heat.
It seemed like the only way.
But I'm out of here.
I shattered all my glasses,
beat out the flame.
I got my strength;
I got more to claim.
070400
Pumpkin Patch
The water vibrates
to the beat of inspiration.
I've got my words.
Now I need direction
out of this cave.
I bleed it more than wilderness.
I need every time there's intercourse.
Switch the seed.
Who cares who commits the deed?
The chimes still sound;
the crew still hits the ground.
My only way out.
I only wanted to see the fireworks,
but I was awarded with much more
than I'll ever understand.
I can't believe he comes back.
I can't believe the "Love" on the page
from months ago...
and now to let go--
I almost lost myself
in the drunken glow.
I almost lost the wealth
of wishes, of dreams,
even bittersweet memories
almost slipped away.
I can't believe I found myself
again this day. 070400
Metamorphosis
I felt myself changing.
I needed help gauging
the drinks to have
in my dream--it was then
when it didn't matter,
but now that's the factor
changing my mind.
I owe it to my Earth partners.
I water the fire,
melt the dirt
to find my newborn point of view.
And I made it through
the ocean of drowning opportunities
to salvage a few,
breathe breath into you.
I matured the rubies
in your burning gaze.
Every time I see the sunset,
I remember our synthetic regret.
We know all is better this way,
with turns up the alley,
dead ends in our maze
of mirrors alight at night--
yes, there we find our honesty
and modesty, and honestly
I owe it all to you.
070400
A.T.O.M.
I never know how much to say.
Lyrics do the dirty work on my bleeding page,
and pen writes more truth than I ever knew.
I saw the rainbow stretch over to you,
but I took direction
to the fountain.
Heard rushes in my veins
and began to grin
as I saw the stars light up in the daylight sky;
I knew they were for only you and I
to see, to remember--
dear, God, I remember
the letters, the tears,
the hiding of fears
that brought me to my knees
though your love was just a tease.
I thought doing as I please
would bring release.
Instead, here I am waiting--
not begging like before.
I wish I knew where I was heading.
I wish I knew what was in store.
070500
Overpriced Pina Colada
Sittin' at Jia's.*
(They call themselves home.)
Ordered my Virgin pina colada
(because that's what's expected of me).
As I sip away,
my parents speak of their future
once I get into that
ivy league college.
(They think they have me figured out.)
They speak of more vacations
once I'm gone.
"Sorry to be such a burden,"
I mumble.
Mom smiles.
I groan
and look around this corner cafe:
The two "men" beside us
are more open than I've ever heard
men to be with each other--except on those
family sitcoms we will forever be trying
to model our lives after...
Joe's getting married,
asking Larry about the tied-down life.
Larry knows the daily routine:
the coffee, the jobs, the dinners,
the fucking, the errands...
Joe wonders if Larry and Sue would ever get a divorce.
"Yeah, it would be a hassle,
a whole load of shit,
but not too hard," he replies
as if he had time to think.
Then Mexican music
blasts from the car-jacked radio
of some man's pickup truck
speeding by.
(Time to refocus.)
Two lovers sit behind the men
all smiles, all innocent
(though I know where they've been).
They receive their menus
but are too eager to think of their stomachs.
Guy's got out the newspaper,
planning their adventure from here.
As he scans the movies,
Girl's eyes search on his face
for the right moment to speak again.
Feet turned inwards
and shoulders tucked,
she still doesn't know when to press her luck,
so she waits...
Guy will direct her again.
And I'm boreded by what I know too well,
so for the first time I see the sky
in its falling radiance.
It changes as frequently
as the summer flies will dance
around the light of a romantic ride.
Blue to orange.
Blue to pink--
..................to black.
Now Father realizes the bill is too high.
"Since when is the Virgin
the same value?"
(Ahh, the questions we ask.)
The details we remember.
The dying days now under.
The secrets to surrender.
(I don't want it all back.)
I'm already on my vacation
with the capricious sky,
As I slip away...
061600
*"home" in Chinese; I don't know about in Japanese
P. Reprimand
How dare you outshine her
in the holy cathedral--
though she's outshining
the beauteous each time she breathes.
Each time she dreams,
you're jealous of her fantasies.
How dare you contact the devil
in her blue dress;
her blue eyes will forever enchant him--
so stop trying.
Stop conniving.
And how dare you let yourself
come to his hollow doorstep
to feed him his happy pills for his aching soul,
which will only break again in time
(with your plan).
And you know it.
How dare you deny it.
How dare you try to forget it
as the opportunities
ooze by you into the sewer drain.
Captivating smiles,
failed good-byes.
How dare you even cry
when you knew all along
those kisses were never for you.
060400
not as well as i had hoped
Winding roads
Blackened spirits to shelter the fear
of ever coming to a full stop
within this dream.
Words with no meaning
Except childish attachment
to what is so familiar...
or so right
coming out not as well as I had hoped.
But we will gather ourselves,
our worries, and our memories
and see this is the way
bittersweet is supposed to coat
our lives, as long as we know each other--
as long as we know ourselves this way.
Since when does moving so fast
outlast the blinding lights of too slow?
It's then we believe there's no reason
for tomorrow
because we've spent too much time waiting
for something like this to happen
to shatter our lives.
The unexpected is always better,
even with the journeys to nowhere.
052900
Stumbling Dorothy
Clumsy Dorothy
wallowed her way
across a pebble path
with damp hair from the morning catharsis,
trying to wash away memories
of yesterday.
She was dressed in blue lace,
keeping locked inside her remaining grace.
She stumbled over stones
as she cut herself over loose bones.
The code had been cracked
through the gates to her heart.
Her ruby slippers kept her from walking
smoothly through life.
There was always somewhere else
she had to be--
though she would have been happier
in another life.
She clutched her handbag close.
(Who knew what she kept inside?)
She wore sun glasses to shade herself from sin
(it was a rainy day)
and glanced my direction
with a smirk.
"You know what I'm up to,"
her body language seemed to convey.
And all I wanted to say:
"Why are you living a lie?"
Just when I thought that would
inspire me to cry,
I found her shedding her own tears
from my mirroring eyes.
051800
Dying Again for the First Time
Death always scared you,
but now it's come to reach you
without your control...
"Something you've never lacked,
you never forget."
It stained your memories,
dyed your hands.
I remember the vision,
but only you found terror.
Only you remember
the power you felt after having killed...
And it will never leave you.
Reds will never turn black and blue.
Crimson are the colors of the scars on your heart--
the way you left me torn apart,
the plans you had at the very start.
The fear you bred in one night.
The way you left me in the light
lonesome, missing something
now that I thought I had found more.
It's only been lost again,
buyt for some reason,
this time I'm anticipating to hurt less
as I die once more.
We can be better than before.
No need to be frightened.
050900
Your Chariot
I lie on your chariot,
staring at synthetic stars
plastered around the barriers of your rooms,
stars and stripes in my eyes--
it's when you lie
down when I feel safest.
My best lives and reigns
in you...
only when I see the grace
in making one from two.
No longer scared,
you blend your skin into mine.
Gravity takes hold.
Your heart knocks on the gates of my own,
wanting a look inside.
To feel you from the inside--
I wouldn't want to escape that tide.
Make teams raging waters
that flow through the rocks
that bind you, find you
swimming in memory's seas.
Never leave me Be
the sheets that cover me,
flow through the contours on my sheets
that help me sleep.
Be the last voice I hear
so my dreams will echo of familiar trembles.
Make your legs my faithful temples
where I will worship--and worship only
that which you know is real.
And if you should grieve,
take me away on your chariot
and feel just as much peace
as I do when I look into your eyes.
051500
Christmas Lights
I've been pulling down the days
of our wasted life in between
for a whole Sunday
now. I finally found a song
to represent this pain,
but I have no more
memories to donate to your
cause, 'cause with your courage
you stripped mine too
as you flew
away. I'm so lonely
in my Blue,
but She's been by me
longer than it would take
to change the colors
on this Chameleon.
I thought I'd have to waste away
to reach salvation,
but I made it to today.
So see me now,
thinning away
and still praying to see the light
Christmas Day. 111699, #553
M3.1.77
Loneliness has gotten
to the better of me:
where poetry is sacrifice,
and stealing Sundays is now a crime.
I've seen time
as It breaks
rhythm and rhyme.
I've witnessed Love cry
as It rots to the
core. No, nothing more
nor nothing less
than a scream
from the clouds
of God's heavenly guests.
Comfort's on vacation.
Hunger's at the scarcity ration.
We fuel irony.
We desire hypocrisy,
Recoil and Return (to J.S.)
Though rivers
have dried up with our dreams,
we have always risen
above to the Tree of Knowledge.
I've never spent so much time on the topic,
but you've brought a new dimension to me,
sister. A sense of nostalgia,
a breeding of change,
if only I could help you rearrange
insecurities into beauties.
I'd love for you to discover--
though I'd rather you find it
in yourself, to find yourself
in you.
No confusion in these tidal waves,
please don't store to save.
Live and learn.
Breathe and return to Eden,
and then I'll have more
to tempt you with
than ever before. 111699, #556
Notwithstanding
I'm withholding
so much tonight,
and I'm wondering if I'm doing it all right:
Holding my breath
all the seconds to oblivion,
Writing a memory
to kill the first vision,
Wanting to die
to appreciate this life I'm living in.
Am I parting my hair
to the left
so the little angels
know it's a bad day?
A bad decision
to lead leads
to a killer obsession.
Why can't I read
all the Rearranged titles
after nothing's really been changed?
I'll resign myself
from trying to be important,
to be the attractive one
across the room,
to be the grounded one
all these days
where I'm left unanchored
but dying with sinking dreams--
just to see something different
on each page.
Sometimes the music is too loud,
but I'll play it longer
if he'll hear the
wandering children
of my mind.
Lonely and cold,
I'll write continuous letters
if it'll get Him home quicker.
I am ready
to give you more
than before--
for you to give
it all a chance
once more.
If you'll have it that way.
Am I the devil who will
influence the will
of my serpents?
They're turning colors
--black and blue hues--
and I'll tell them it's normal
as we become scars
of our own fall from grace.
(Thank God we never hit the ground.)
But I've found
it's harder to be happy
with those who don't endure
my San Diego blues.
I smile to the sun
because it's my season--
no flowers in bloom in my eyes
for the sole reason
that I've not had sufficient rain.
Pain can kill,
But we're waiting still.
And though my soul is crumbling tonight,
I will reinforce that I'm all right. 110799, #550
Tendencies with shadows
I'm walking with
my shadow
again
and i can't help but notice
the starlit headlights
crashing into orbs of time
i live through the goodness
of his "love" through
the windows of my imagination
so snow on the glass
can obscure this passion
that reigns only in my heart.
How I wish he'd do his part
and rescue the bleeding angels
from the breaking street
lights. The Morse Code
repeats messages of caution
and beware,
but the solider is no where
close to the battlefield.
She is already
reaching nirvana
in her own smoking ways,
crashing into bed
at 4:30 each night.
I know I'm not lying.
(No, I'm not lying.)
So when you see me
spying into your windows
each night,
know that I'm trying
to see inside your mind
that bubbles with pride,
dances with wolves,
and will continue to crush me
and my shadow. 110499, #547
Hooded Solider
The headlights were blinding
as the hooded solider
took landing
too seriously
on a November day.
Winter seemed so far away,
yet it was still bitter cold
as he waved the clouds away,
begged for change night and day
but received the same-
the worst type of pay
for the black,
for the gray
mysteries he laid
with every night
on his cement floor
for forty-four months,
and thirty-two days.
Wishes on his mind
that remained deep within the core
couldn't wait to be taken once more...
He lost his faith on a Tuesday,
a similar November day.
He remembers his remains
all along the paths
of where his regrets lay. 110499, #547
I swear (to K.J.)
One day were going to fight this.
We wont be wronged.
We wont be hated.
We wont love and die
not having said anything.
We wont be insecure.
We wont be bored.
We will be happy, finally free.
We will have learned the fee
of having believed too eagerly before,
and now well deserve to expect much more
and take opportunities,
open all those doors,
and take a chance,
dance as if no one was watching
and not care about their laughter
cause well be laughing ourselves.
011800, #584
The Rubric
Call out to the ones of tribulation
and find whats come from compunction.
I could have learned another way;
instead your fading words
and rumored girls
and fixed dates
remove my faith.
Never say never,
but always say your prayers
on dying stars.
Life-time surveyors resign
from determining your fate.
Schedule dinner in,
and vote your life out
of the turbulence that has
obliterated your sight
for seven days and seven nights.
Run out of ink
as you pour your heart and soul
from the syrup glass
onto already-stained leaflets
that bleed purple hearts
and will perhaps catch someone elses eye
this time.
..This time
save someone else from their own life.
010700, #578
Bombed Shell
Unguarded but finished
to the max.
Havent taken much time
to relax
since you were gone,
twice as long
for you to come back.
Funny how I havent felt so alone
since youve come home.
Been told to be patient,
but Ill nurse these wounds
until the cries are silenced
to the point of your satisfaction.
I knew it well
until I fell
twice down: bombed shell.
Im turning down
upside frowns
to see your reflection
in every day mirrors.
They too will fade
but never our former days.
Ill lock them away,
for thats all that has remained.
010800, #580
Treasure Chest
Another poet struggles
between being too true or too bland.
To turn inside out happiness
until it's no longer what it seemed.
Under the seams, everything's the same
in fun and games.
We drink our coffees in denial
of the same desire that drives
the whole universe.
Defeat this curse?
Only the singers are close
to understanding;
the others are lagging
but dreaming of relieving
the tensions that were brewing
in the core since before
anyone knew any better.
Better to patrol the demons.
Better to merely examine the shapes
and sizes of every love
beneath the covers
than to strangle yourself in lust.
Someone's bound to discover--
someone's bound to die for it--
or we'll just kneel with the knowledge
we spent so long to find...
the truth, wrapped tightly in the mind.
032200, #595
after sunset
after
you can't believe you've experienced it
you don't feel different
your cheeks aren't redder
but the blankets are
after
you're not better
if anything
you're hoping you did it right
you don't know if you wanted a second time
for you
or for him
after
you wonder if your moans were realistic
as you hurt
you don't know exactly what to do
as he's coming down
so you cover yourself
in embarrassment
of not knowing
what is good
after
nakedness is normal in paintings
though you have to act as bashful
as you did in the first act
you can hold hands with him
and know you hold a secret
dear
until he's gone
and then you fear
that perhaps these feelings are not right
to be feeling so late at night
you know you loved--
you thought
though you're caught
in forever-worries
of was this right
or terribly wrong
(and then I worry if these feelings
are real) 111899, #558
As an Eve Would Tell It
i.
The glass
shone like diamonds
as the leaves stirred
on the lethal highway.
That was when stone
turned into 1000 knives...
ii.
Marked red in ink read,
"Never regret what you don't
say. You might not live another
day." I watched the paper
roll into the traffic,
not thinking much of what
it would come to mean.
iii.
"The bus sped by
without me,
and I felt a sense of guilt
about me
as I took pen to paper,
fighting once again
with toiling dreams and
teen machines,
without knowing much
of what it all means
(at any given time)."
She fought a good battle against her lust,
but it was this emptiness I could never trust
to plan an attack
against another terrorist
that had crept into her life
(as I had felt in my time).
iv.
I told her brave it all out,
but she pittered and pattered
herself out of doubt.
I told her to forget about the fights
between her obliterated love-nights and
sentimentality between the sheets,
for it is only rooted within the soil of
time. No matter what she thinks,
it'll always be a crime
to go back with the devils,
for you can only hide so long
from the ones who lure away
another helpless Eve.
v.
"You can't run from him,
but doll, you must..." 120699, #568
The future is no place to
place your better days.~DMB