Saturday, June 18, 2016

Our baby girl & P.S.

It's a great irony that I write poems to forget you
Because my poetry is a piece of me
It's like giving birth to your child but she is born hating you
and she will grow past her daddy issues to become
Breathtaking. Magnificent. Powerful.
For every wound you donated to me
she will heal someone else's
Your most kind and productive offspring
is the one that shows your ugliness
The Beauty whose kiss makes you into the Beast
And I will love her unapologetically
'cause I'm sure you'll never apologize
I will be fine. I will be seen. I will be loved.
I'm already fine.
I'm already seen.
I'm already loved.
And our Baby girl, born of grief
will grow wings
and wear crowns of leaves and
With a wink she'll be swept up in the wind
And I'll finally let her go
Because it's time to move on
And this time I believe it's true that
you are not worth the effort

P.S.
I hope a woman stronger than me
draws you in to the quagmire of her eyes
and leaves you there to languish
I hope you never learn so that
she will inhabit different shapes
and drown you over and over
and I hope she does it just
because she's bored
and you're an asshole

"All you meant was" or "I already wrote a poem about you"

I already wrote a poem about you
I'm supposed to be over this shit but
You seem so lonely and my heart
orients itself towards your North
When I ask, you shrug and tell
me not to read into everything
All you meant was that you've given up
All that you meant was you gave
the universe and ultimatum
I say, "cool. well if you wanna chill, hit me up."
All I meant was, cool. well if you wanna chill, hit me up
The next day you ask for me to unveil you my body
I didn't offer that, who do you think you are?
But I'm just being defensive and
you tell me not to read into everything
The lava in my belly rises towards my lips
As the injustices of your fists disturb my rocky roots
My claws extend reflexively and
I put on my boxing gloves
To contain them, 'cause my intent
was never to cut but to caress
But I let my arms hang limp at my sides
When the lava erupts it pours
out of my eyes instead of my mouth
And I would rather cry than fight because
my strength offends you, my softness confounds you
I'd rather confound than contend
You're not worth the effort
and I wish I believed that

I want to affection you to death
but with each embrace you strike me and
Shout, "I'm fine! Why are you here?
Stop reading into everything!"
And I cry 'cause all I meant was,
"Let me love you. Let me try."
All you meant was, you were never
anything more than sex, bitch
All you meant was, let me reel you in
and mock you for getting caught
You drop my body on the dock,
gasping gills, and you laugh as I
Embody the was your ventricles
crystallize and your heart suffocates
from too much oxygen

You may never know to regret this
but I will be sure to haunt the
negative space in your paintings
To make sure the whites of your eyes
pale in fear of what never was
I want to goodbye you into so many yesterdays
that I only remember the tattoos across your chest
and that there are some people you soften for
I'm just sad it wasn't me but
I'm just glad it wasn't me
Bye. Goodbye. Goodbye, Goodbye.

Monday, June 13, 2016

Tired of f*cking love poems

Love is looking down the barrel of a loaded gun and screaming "shoot!"
Love is glacier-carved paths of patience dragging through your insides
Love is over-full bathtubs, warm water havens from chilling outside air
Love is crackling halves falling, lightning-stricken, away from mighty trees
But I'm tired of love, talking about it, hearing about it, finding it frequent in my thoughts
I want to drill love shut into a wooden box and toss it deep into a hole I dug
out of fresh black earth. I want to bury it with my dreams
endless bright trajectories, full of learning and adventures
But I want love to be buried so deep that it suffocates and decomposes

How can something so tragic and fragmented be beautiful? And please tell me
How something so breathtaking can be so violent and terrifying?
They tell me it's because I don't know, to "just wait. you'll see.." But f*ck that!
I don't want to know, and I hate myself for wanting to know so desperately
People can keep their loaded shotguns and dying, charred tree trunks
People can keep their chilling air and warm tubs of running water
Because alone is a pain I can trust, it's a pain that understands me with
fewer tangles and chains, more familiar aches, and a hunger I am learning to deny
I suppose this is a poem about commitment issues, but welcome to the mess
I'm done apologizing for my romance gag reflex

Because I'm hurting..
And I've thrown myself from every cliff I could find
Now I'm wondering why all my bones are broken

Virulent

When will my poems stop being
so violent with virulent images
marching across stricken, sleepless
eyeballs?
What does virulent mean? I forget
It sounds intriguing, it's a sharp word
and would pair nicely with
"slice" "pierce" or "shards"
like steak with dry red wine
And here I go again, wanting
to make things bleed

If I was a famous artist I would
use a paint-roller to spread crimson
paint across a blank canvas and
I'd sell the painting for $23 mil
And say, "This piece was wrenched
from my veins, like life and love...
This piece was painted with the
pulsing pieces of my confetti cardiac muscles
And someone will buy it for
$23 mil plus tax and hang it
on the white walls of his house
calling my suffering art
I'll laugh at him 'cause that
paint cost me $10 at Lowe's, but
it's red so he'll use it to tame
the bulls, but after a while
the blood will make him crazy
because he'll be able to smell it
in the dust of the plaza del toros

But to be honest, I'd much
rather set shit on fire than
make it bleed because fire
is so majestic, romantic even
And it demolishes. Everything.

6.7.16



Definition: Virulent (adj.)

1. (of a disease or poison) extremely severe or harmful in its effects

2. bitterly hostile
3. my affection
4. what I think love is

Sunday, June 12, 2016

6 days: The road through the desert

Day 1:
I see the way they cluster,they clot like blood outside the holy places
They cry out in honor of adultery against exquisite truth
Tempests of fury rise up within my depths, and I become destruction
On my sturdy knees, I implore my God to make me a whirlwind that
Decimates any pagan who claims my Lord as his god
Who in his worship freely flaps his lecherous tongue

Day 2:
The sweet flavors of victory hang from my mouth, and I lick my lips
As his blood, un-clotting, runs through the hot streets
His death becomes my glory, every tear proves me of my station
I unroll my wrath like the scrolls that declare him to be defiled
And my arm grows long as I build the sinews of my mind and soul
Making myself un-pressable stone against the seductions of his lies
For I am a blade with the sharpest of edges, one side to the next
I will make my name a bludgeoning defender of my Lord

Day 3:
My eyes, my eyes! Pierced by merciless daggers of light
Every color floods my skull as my sight drowns into darkness
And he asks me why my hands are dripping with his blood
How can he not know I tore open flesh in his name
And fortified my chest with others' bones in his name
I cover my feet night and day with desert dust, a conquest in his name
He asks again, why my hands are dripping with his blood
And I am silent
And I am blind
And I am not hungry anymore

Day 4:
A cold river runs through my riven rib cage
The looters left me with only leaves and quiet
I am emptied and aghast at the residue on the reservoir walls, so small
Was I really full?
Was I really great?
And I am still silent
And I am still blind
And I am still not hungry anymore

Day 5:
A man came today, though his face was hidden
His voice bore authority and was adorned in mourning
And peace; he spoke for my Lord, and I, on my weak knees
Begged forgiveness
My eyes, my eyes, tears pour forth in healing, scales fall
Away, in broken pieces on the earth, my blindness dissolves
Light has been endowed with a new name, love
Color has been left with a new titled, love
Knowledge is now called affection, power is brokenness
Delight is found in emptiness
Hope is found... in me

Day 6:
I live my days outside the holy places, clotting like blood with my brothers
My feet tire by day, raindrops of sweat bury me by night, in torrents
My smile is an involuntary crack in the flesh of my weary face
For on my shoulders I bear a message, a song of
How a treacherous murderer painted cities with death in the name of his Lord
But saw one day, under unforgiving desert sun, that his altar was unto
Only himself, bottomless, voracious, death became his glory, every
Tear made him worthy of his station; lowly, furious, frantic, lost
This murderer is now the hope, bard to foreign tribes of a bright and endless affection
And on the road through the desert, the snake slithered away in fear
I became a man, a paradox, a willing, suffering bearer of light
Now I ask them why their hands are dripping with his blood
And they are silent

El Caribeño

You carry island passion in your platelets
Sturdy barrio pride fortifies your spine
Your smile is crooked, much like your affection
When you found me, I surprised you
with my swaying hips and lilting español dominicano
And for a few scrumptious, summer days we melted
into one another's mouths and minds
haceindome un vaso de cafe caliente
Bailamos la bachata, mis pies tontos
cercándome a tus cadenas perfectas

After that delectable, cool night,
you know the one, you laughed
I became your subservient joke, you
left every discourse feeling like
Muhammad Ali taking the final
winning blow, and I wondered,
"When did this become a fight?
How badly you must hurt to have
to hurt me like this." Fatherless son
of a powerful mother, you're lost
Perdidito, solo quería una mordidita de mi
pero... you choked and now probably
wonder why choking is so bad

Remember what you told me?
"As long as you make it look like
you're enjoying it, I'll enjoy it."
Well, parcero, suffocation doesn't
look good on you, so véte y que te cuides
I'll be over here, without you,
Breathing

V.

I.
Look your need into me infuse me with your desperation
You know I see you, but I'm the one you don't see
Like a beetle, I'm an exoskeleton of all smiles, laughs and twirling
I am your whirling dervish of mirth

II.
You used to see me, my blood drenching you
Your arms were a fortress for me
I thought you loved my mess
I loved fingerpainting my pain for you
But you think you've graduated me
that your studies in fine art
make my fingerpainting childish
But my thoughts come to me in
violent bursts and vibrant prisms

III.
You ask for my thoughts, but you don't
want them, you want your couch back
But I'm not comfortable like that
I refuse to let you sink into me
with ungrateful familiarity
Baby, your tower's too lofty for my
shiny, beetle existence these days
I think you'll tumble down the stairs
of your cool, dragon-less castle
someday
Today, though, I offer incognito refusal
I'll smile and sing your hipster songs
But I will remain complicated, messy, proud
too much for you and your righteous friends

IV.
I will always adore you naming
stars after your green eyes, and
fruit juices after your sweet laugh
I will always be proud of you
the way you construct crystal sonorance
with your vocal cords or record
silly declarations into the arms of loved ones
You are my palm line, the one that
squiggles from the valley between my
pointer and middle fingers
winding, tantalizing, deep
You are my blood, but right
now you're boiling under the heat
of your own scrutiny, your own frown

V.
Come back, Beloved, when life has
pulled a few punches, I'll be here
Still complicated, messy, proud, adoring you
Ready to be drenched in your blood
To make my arms a fortress for you
To hang the fingerpaintings of your pain
on my fridge and call them fine art
I love you
Come back
I love you
but even if
I love you
you don't
I love you
To every crossroad and back
Sincerely, your beetle

5.24.16