Censored

Careful
your mouth could be
the death of you.

Lies are easily
accepted
and live
if only for awhile – at least
it is your while..

Silence-
the golden
shrugs her shoulders.
Turn your back – at least
it won’t get shot at.

Careful
your mouth will
bleed words.

So what is
this “individual?”
served by the state-
of course.

Careful
your mouth
will be the death
of you.

6/1989

coming up for air

i’m going on down
to the beauty shop
for a face – lift
redo
my body
going down

i’m going on down
to the station
passing away
these dreams are
getting me down

don’t call me tuesday
i’ll be down already
on monday

i’m going on down
to fashion square
for a costume
to hide
these tears
are getting me down

each time
i hang it up
my coat falls off
this nook
down to the floor

i’m going on down
yes i am
no use telling me
anchors hold you up
’cause i know they
pull you down
when you bury them

i’m going down these stairs
don’t push me up
i’m too heavy
faltering down these stairs
don’t block my way
i’ll bruise you

fainting on your shoulder
you wade me through
the icicles

you carry me
like a cross

and slowly
i breathe again

2/27/1981

Costume party

You’re invited,
so you make-up your body
in masquerade tints
looking around you for a model.

There’s a goblin
always hungry,
never has enough.
He’d take your dinner
and your lung
leaving an empty bowl
to sup.
But you hate indigestion.
So you stop and wonder
How shall my soul be dressed?

There’s Napoleon
in a three cornered hat,
each corner stretching in the designs
of popular opinion
and centering on the man.
But you cannot bear the strength of those lies.
So you stop and wonder
How shall my soul be dressed?

There’s a martyr in the kitchen
he has sharpened his cutting ware
to carry at his side.
He strikes
for a holy cause
and dies early for right.
But you do not cherish bloody hands as a means
of reaching heaven
So you stop and wonder
How shall my soul be dressed?

There’s a toad
who can’t stop croaking
about the treacherous earth
doomed to collide with Mars.
Such nightmares do not haunt you though.
Yours is hope.
But…

Don’t worry,
you can come as my friend.

1980s

Doctor doctor

My illness
is a part of me –
yet you, doctor,
try to cure it.

You heave your scalpel
into my brain –
the inquiring scientist
finds
nothing.

You attach your fingers
to the sound of my breast,
sorting through a maze of veins.
The stethoscope
hears
empty.

Your investigations reveal
puzzle after
puzzle.
How can the human body
defy your capable hands?

You – surgeon –
put your hands
on the skeleton
of my heart.

Aha!

Incurable disease
diagnosed
in the blood drenched words
of this writing paper.

 

1980s

A New Year’s Eve message

The oracle says
no one will steal your joy.
Wise women rejoice
despite the ceaseless
toil.

It is deep within you-
kernel lit with dawn.
Rise up woman, rise and
name the relentless
worm.

He eats the earth
inside,
turns us mean and vile-
Langston said it,
time for truth and
the wisdom to be
kind.

Fortified against
evil’s cruel intent
joyless lives –
desolate.
Holy mother – brilliant sister
steel yourselves.
Laugh! Dance!
Begin!

December 31, 2016