July 26, 2010

This was my first time reading at a poetry reading and, really, my first time sharing my work publicly.  It was great fun and I hope to do it again sometime this winter. This is what I read:

Intrinsic

All my poetry

is Goddess poetry

everything I write is

witchy

cause that's how I move

there is no separate

for me from Her

walking hand in 

wispy voice

that curls deep inside

with a purr and sigh of knowing

that all is well

that all is right with what is

there She is settled in my soul

like a tiny reflection

Objects may be closer than they appear

of the beginning of time

swirling with all I've ever known

all that's been known

and swollen with the unknowable

pulsing with the tide of
so much

life

energy

breath

air

blood

water

movement

earth

fire

of every star

of so many distant 

and unfamiliar

yet brothers

sisters to what I see

but being so much

still soft   She is

curled, lying there 

like and infant

after an millennial nap

blinking in comfort

ready to stretch

and try her voice

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hostage Situation

Why am I so damn raw
exposed nerves crackle
like the backs of my eyeballs
floating on the surface
of the thought I just had
or the song I'm listening to
why does everything want 
out        right  now
without even identifying itself
as it squeezes through my lids
why do I feel as if I'm
holding           my heart          hostage
and what am I waiting for
what are my demands
do I have any plans
if I get away with this
hostage             situation
I'm no good at negotiation
I'll just wait down at the station
till the whole thing is resolved

leave it up to someone else
to see my problem solved
but the problem is there's still that part
my pumping, bleeding, aching heart
it seems wrong to just leave her there
saunter off without a care
but how much am I willing to give
without the promise that I will live
and how much is really at stake
if the battle's more than I can take
which pieces will I walk away with if I loose
is it a craps shoot, or can I pick   and choose
are there things in my heart I can't do without
creativity, empathy, my smile, my pout
looks like I have to suck it up
and work this thing out
but don't I believe in war so     is there another way
we could coax my heart and and humor her,
convince her to come away
from the me who wants to harm her
we should probably disarm her
she's the one who started all this
standing there raging with balled-up fists
I just need to convince her to step back into me
put down the heart, and just let it be

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Molehills from Mountains

You are sex walking

You are fuck      on legs

You are naught but tongue
and hands and heat
You're skin, hair,sweat,
my heart's pounding beat

You're there to consume me
to coax those low sounds
out of my deep
to test and push bounds

to find the little spaces,
the far, far withins
to summon the crawlies
and ripple my skin

You are sight and scent
of sex unleashed
energy called forth
from North, West, South and East

You're times with fingers splayed
toes curled and panting
times with whimpers like a puppy
trying to make it to the landing

You're nothing more than the places
where my skin touches yours
and the surfaces we rest upon
beds, dressers, walls, and doors

You're running down my leg
you're that wet spot on the bed
the hum between my legs tomorrow
you're candy for my head

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Curves and Lines

      My body is the Goddess's 

      not a single curve out of place

      'cause I can see my form in nature

      all the beautiful round shapes to trace

But cities are made by men

you can see it in their design

cold and hard, constructed

all straight lines and street signs

      We do our best to invade them

      with bushes, trees, and vines

      but they always feel constricted

      to a pretty little box in time

Meanwhile outside the cities' borders

the ongoing ugly rat-race

is mowing down curves and forests

marching on leaving nary a trace

      Still, no matter how many lines they draw

      with their rulers to tell them how big

      when it's time to lay the foundation

      look where they have to dig

Into the sacred skin of our Mother

on the altar of our birth

source of all the life we know

the ever spinning, round, round Earth. 

                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clamor

Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen and 

Welcome to the Church of What the Fuck is Going On?

There are so many directions to place blame

Patriarchy. Corporate Greed. The MEDIA. Technology. Bad Government.  Complacent Society.  

we didn't know any better

there were so many flashing lights

and signs and voices

"Look right this way!"

and so many moving parts

and radio waves

and digital ate analog like the way

video tried to kill the radio star

multinational multimedia channel channel channel shop! on line on T.V. by phone

for non stick hi-tech hi-def plastic remote control motion sensor

sensor sensory

sensory input

input

in put

what are we putting in?

is this stuff filling you up?

I'm stuffed! 

I can't take any more of this

junk-food for the brain

high-fructose information

this saccharine distraction

layer after sticky layer

in conveniently disposable packaging

or beamed straight into your brain

only 49.95 a month

it's every new sensation

competing with so many 15 minutes

crammed between increasingly inane human antics

followed by what they call the "news"

this veil they hang meant to convince me

that this is all there is, or ever could be

constant daily rhythm of 

get up go to work go home eat zone out go to bed

no wonder we're numb

they're pick-pocketing our freedoms

insisting it's for our own good

rewriting history to take away truth

back room deals and 

out-right theft

tarnished elections and

toxic incorporated

paparazzi exposing personal privacies

while government corruption goes untold

It's all such a spectacle, disparate but sparkly

disorienting reminding me of the Land of Oz

and we could all use a little more courage,

a little more heart, a clear mind to think

and the knowledge that our homes are our homes

but without those we keep moving,

perpetuation the system we seem to be stuck in

keeping heads down, arms and legs inside the vehicle

with lemming-like devotion

to our own degradation

And when we walk out of step,

when we stop and look around

when we start to think on our own

we're labeled disloyal, unpatriotic, crazy

If we start to raise some eyebrows, 

that voice always comes along

to remind us The Show must go on

and to take our seats and please,

pay no mind to that man behind the curtain.