Archive for September, 2012

Death Of Nocturnal Oddities

I was awaken by fluttering voices

Unreliable eyes discover curious creatures

Turquoise translucent specters

Displaying mischievous smiles

Neither greeting nor evicting me

We both stood our ridiculous ground

Ground was not ground at all

Gelatinous magenta waves supported altered feet

Altered feet, skin, eyes and ears – this isn’t me!

Who are you, I scream at conspiring mirror!

Close your mental eyes, I said.

Awake, I mourn the death of nocturnal oddities


Pobre Chicana Escape

Tried to sleep with determined ghosts about

Like me, they’re too poor to leave

Welfare projects sun highlights poor truth

Renter’s white walls and standard beige carpet

I breathe fan, window and screen door air

I see barrio heat rising off cracked and uneven pavements

Treasures are darkened rooms, cold faucet water and nighttime winds

The rich are ants hiding underneath sinks

Poor becomes – clothes, people, world and feeling

Yearning for other truths, aside from sweat, dirt and thistles

Pobre Chicana asks the nice white lady

Can you help me find some books?

Soaking my swollen venturous feet

In one of Seven Sacred Pools

My writer’s hand glided atop of Maui waters

I breathed in the thankfulness of exotic magic

Looked upon my Querido Esposo

Then called him Blessed Amante

Heart, mind, thighs and hips await gluttonous use

Who am I to disappoint them?

Dog Killing

I murdered a dog today

He was venomously preaching love and mercy

Killer hands named hate and wrath are ready to strike

Dog analyzed my twisted brain

Lectured blind mother and labeled her weak

He’s a liar, rings over and over in polluted head

Disgusting dog, devil and scum, stop breathing my air!

With that, I strangled his fucking throat

Ripped out his perverted eyes

Tore out his black heart from hairy chest

Burned his damnable crotch with my raging eyes

All that and he still spoke eloquently

In his bastard suit and tie

Evil smells of cigarettes, sweat and cursed bodily fluids

Evil says nothing about toxic desires

As he crawls into little girl bed

The pain is greater in head than on skin

Nothing is said by either, as wrongs are imposed

Once a sweet child, now your unwilling toy

This daisy is dead on countless layers

Hate is better skin for dead children

Corruption is blood coursing through numb veins

Transfuse it, please!

I loathe living as a corpse!

Fear Me, I Am Eight Years Old

Four foot giant leaps into azure sky

Annoyed clouds grumble as he soars and dives

I am way too cool for school!

Seeking a flock of anything in which to hide

You’re done dreaming, super shrimp. Get up now.

Chuckling Mom, his arch nemesis

Til next time then. Cereal awaits.

Spontaneously bestowed with tri-colored roses

Her practical mind was set aside

Love-filled tears gushingly arrived

Tender lover said, just because

Her mind and heart heard the rest

Just because I love you

Far more than roses were given

Moss covered stone is in love

 Exhausted creek is tired of running

Stone envies the ignorant wading feet that touch his love

Creek dreams of becoming a lake

She yearns for skipping stones, boats and youth

All eager to venture into her perfect waters

Blind stone ignores his lovelorn moss

Disappointment goes on amongst the peculiar woods

To be human is boring at the present time

I prefer to be a lifeless speck or chunk in artistic realms

Flakes of gold on Klimt’s canvass

 El Gordo Rivera’s scaffolding

Screws and pins on Kahlo’s spine

Such lovely relics lead monstrously playful lives

If they had no paint, would they paint in blood?

What an inappropriate question!

Take away my wrong mind and tongue

I am sadly human, learned and manic

The Trouble With Art

Immortal royal lady, I have returned

Our gazes meet, then dissipate

Eyes hungry of fantasy grow arms and hands

Caressing your red silk gown

Your supple fair hand extends to meet mine

Violently teleported back to insensitive truth

The museum is closing far too soon