emaciated

Your emaciated eyes looked at me all stupid and doey

Expect to fulfill your dreams or just settle?

Please do not pressure me like that or I will shoot you down.

Your emaciated body wanted to be nourished by me

Admire everything about who I am for a while longer

Please let me enjoy this ego moment and bathe in glory.

Your emaciated soul dragged along like a wooden leg

Trust me to amputate it mercilessly gleefully

Please know I will carry every broken piece of you in my arms
to traverse galaxies.

milk 'n acid

You carelessly poured a can of coconut milk into two glasses

Let it dance with OJ and scotch

I looked at the concoction about to protest

You replaced my shirt with your lips

The milk settled from the acid

Untouched.

Won 1st Place for Poetry The New Physician Creative Arts Contest 2012
Published in The New Physician Summer 2012 Edition

Ghost

Prime real estate I reside,

Afforded by a hurt that convulses the body, gasps for air,

A cleansing soak.

At its doorframe I stand,

Looking back with a hint of shame, a pinch of pride,

A temporal ease.

Dawdle at the driveway I do,

Languish in this transformative phase for once or twice,

A quiet halt.

Buoy into new stratospheres I float,

Rule out nothing but the past and a ghost or two,

A natural rise.

Originally written 2.5.12

Thanks but

I.

In holy matrimony, they hold hands
Because

They are in love, they are to raise children together,

They are to be envied by all their single friends,

They are to feel the safety and comfort of having someone to come home to.

We march, rally, and protest the law

We use media, literature, art to spread our plight

Because 
We too want to hold hands,

To rear love, children, envy, safety, comfort,

As reassurance that they and we are now equal,

That we are so quickly progressing towards societal acceptance,

Thanks

But

Slow down, step back, a mathematical logic problem, an oft-overlooked given,

Did they make the right assumption?

In holy matrimony.

II.

Selfish is my freedom,

Take from their investment

In marriage and commitment.

Wallow in childhood comfort

Created for me

But not from me

To unborn children.

Selfish but great is my freedom

Laugh all the way to the grave

With cradle cake still in mouth.

Care and wisdom handed down

Cumulative receiver am I

Walk with each step,

A gem in my belly.

But they, a man and a woman, 

Trudge through remaining days,

Taken of their investment

In marriage and commitment

Sallow in stagnant stability

Created for society

But not for them

Walk with each step,

A stone in their belly.

Yellow Feathers

Large blue sky and one yellow speck,

Nothing in my way, nothing out of my way, fall in hard, fall out hard,

Because I am flying of no check,

My little yellow feathers raped by the wind, a violent love.

An immeasurable freedom that hurts inside this bosom,

Lest I bash this small yellow chest against the brick,

Fly with large speed to abrase delicate body against buildings and mountains,

Smear blood and feathers, smear freedom and greatness.

My sharp beak rips lovingly, yes ferociously, at these soft feathers,

Such delicious-tasting feathers I grow on my useless cage of a body,

Let my useful gastronomical system turn yellow feathers,

Into golden colostrum, golden excreta, golden perineal ooze.

Look at me, now a bald non-eagle, exposed skin or dermatomed prison bars?

Scent of freedom emanating from my flesh as it begs to come out and play,

Hurts so good to drip yellow blood that turns into liquid gold mid-flight,

Scatter my golden freedom, let it grow into nothingness, 
Then shall I be most free.

Let's Play Pretend

He expounds his writing experience to the class, pausing unnecessarily,

Tones his voice, shifts his leg, downplays ‘Like, it’s no big deal, really.’

Oh but really, it is a big deal, to you,

And that is okay,

To celebrate the ego.

Call yourself confident and assured, insecurity a foreign thing,

You in a white pencil skirt, purple top, white purse, interesting combination,

So someone broke into my closet, to compare, to prove,

To very confidently prove that you cannot pull it off like me

And always knew it.

I lean back, stretch arms out, widely, obnoxiously,

Express discontent at this drawn-out class.

She leans back, stretches arms out, widely, not as obnoxiously,

Express discontent at my discontinued interest in her.

You know where I live, babe.

Woozy, attemptingly seductive eyes, she wobbles,

Lean against pool table next to me, looking straight ahead,

Place hand next to mine, barely touching but touching,

Alcohol as absolution from morning-after sins,

That is not going in my bed.

He feels the need to juggle one too many balls,

To fill the empty crevices left by his own,

From where stemmed platitudes for might and strength?

Small and weak being quaint and endearing,

I’d welcome that into my bed.

Black Lacquer

I.

Bright sunny day humming to the neighbor’s hose,

Her beautiful face surrounded by light full of love for the park and me,

We feel excitement hearing the ice cream truck.

Grey rainy day beating to the TV commercials,

Her pristine face danced with the aroma of food prepared from scratch,

We feel joy sharing beef congee.

White snowy night hibernating with the beat of our hearts,

Her soft face resting on the pillow cushioning my fear of a big scary world,

I feel safe attaching my soul to her soft body.

Bright sunny day humming to the neighbor’s hose,

Her beautiful face transformed by darkness full of ferocity for life and me,

I feel the quick force of her beautiful hand against me.

Grey rainy day beating to the TV commercials,

Her pristine face tainted with the frustration of life cooked with wrong ingredients,

I feel terror as I swallow words from pristine lips that tremble with hate.

White snowy night hibernating with the beat of my heart,

Her soft face exploding like gunpowder catapulting me into the big scary world,

I ask why attaching my body to the hard table leg.

II.

Two chairs pushed in across from each other in between two leg posts,

I have my four walls.

The under surface of the tabletop and the floorboards,

I have my sky and my earth.

Two miniature arms and two stubby legs in a ball,

I have my new womb.

Paint my new walls using wet fingers, don’t miss a spot,

Tears evaporate off the black lacquer, an unending canvas,

What luck,

Unending paint.

Feel the edges of the leg post, so sharp and smooth, soothing edges,

A hard, durable, shiny material, always reliable always predictable,

What safety,

Black lacquer.

III.

Suit up, on board, cab it; Game face, knock, handshake,

Own it.

Safe.

Blame Greenspan, praise Bernanke; Talk fast, walk fast, think fast,

Move it.

Safe.

Suited up, on board, cabin lights off, forty thousand feet in the air,

Journey of safe routine ad nauseam, nausea idiopathic,

Nausea mysterious,

Shaking voice, shaking hands, shake and sink,

Blood draining from my head light as air, air I am catapulting through

With the speed of gunpowder.
Terror and confusion in blasphemous consummation,

So fast, faster and fastest, fasting heart

Starves more blood that leaves me, disappears on me,

Head is gone, legs cannot feel, see only black,

Black lacquer.

I.

Sallie, not terribly comely,

A something you cannot place.

Tommy, quite dapper indeed,

A charm you cannot replace.

Sallie kissed Tommy.

Bobby gazed across at her,

As he folded neat planes,

The other girls wait.

Sallie, not terribly congenial,

Many a thing she lacks.

Alfie, quite enthralling of a star,

A brilliance he does not lack.

Sallie kissed Alfie.

Bobby gazed across at her,

Neatly folded planes,

The other girls can wait.

Sallie, not terribly talented,

Not a thing one shan’t add.

Lucas, quite the creator,

Not a thing he can't add.

Sallie kissed Lucas.

Bobby gazed across at her,

Planes folded neatly,

Let the other girls wait.

Sallie, not terribly wise,

A thing forgive,

Hubert, not terribly wise,
            not terribly talented,

            not terribly congenial,

            not terribly comely,

A thing for thought?

Sallie kissed Hubert.

Neatly folded planes gazed across at her.

murderers and sirens

Straight golden blond hair, she hungrily steals my lips with hers,

I let her own them,

My white flag billows with each strand of her scent,

Sirens to my Olfaction.

Long jet-black hair, she walks up an inch away, asks ‘What’s up?’

I turn to her,

Accidental intruder in her palace of fragrance,

Reeks of a Queen.

Wavy chestnut brown hair, she platonically comes in for a hug,

I make it quick and painless,

God forbid I catch a whiff of her poison,

Ether of the Soul.

Curly off-black hair, she travels the contours of my belly with her mouth,

I let her hair loose,

Fission burst of gamma rays zinging like anthrax spores,

Perfume of a Murderer.


Originally written 2.11.12

layers of one

Smooth like a baby, pearly and peachy,

A flesh, skin, cotton mosaic of softness,

The body of an individual in love,

Tumble and roll in glowing joy,

Fix a perfect toast and a black coffee for one.

Racing like a storm eye, disorganized yet targeted,

A brain, words, laptop mosaic of creation,

The electricity of an individual in love,

Whirl and epiphanize in decadent analyses,

Add a vase to the palace of sole reign.

Crisp like autumn air, barren yet hypermotile,

A pair of oxfords, socks, trouser mosaic of responsibility,

The legs of an individual in dread,

Leave down the steps in urgent duty,

The new vase teetered by the masses without.

Unnatural like a whore, mechanical and out of place,

An engine, wheels, four-seat mosaic to congest,

The bane of a society in blinders,

Crawl in to feel my soul on the curb in unbudging indignancy,

Turn a perfect toast and black coffee to excreta.

Haunting like an asylum, coarse and unintelligent,

Architectural, institutional, spiritual mosaic of disappointment,

The school of the Weak in heat,

Flee through the conflagration to grab necessities,

Feel the wondrous vase melt under Satan’s reign.

Reentered like a whore, mechanical and out of place,

A gear, brakes, steering mosaic of repetition,

The orphan in a family of flowers by the road,

Ravage traffic lights in high-speed escape,

Aid in the rescue of my vase to absolve of your whorish sins.

Thick like Manhattan clam chowder, tart but rich,

Color, dance, song mosaic of wonder,

The palace of an individual in love,

Undone the oxfords, socks, trousers in liberating fashion,

Kneel and nurture at its feet to gather the pieces.

Nicked like fine porcelain, a shame and a waste,

A hope, indignancy, obsession mosaic of re-creation,

The hands and heart of an individual in love,

Reheat, remelt, refigure in patient tenderness,

Turn nicks and pieces into a new vase.

Smooth like a baby, pearly and peachy,

A flesh, skin, cotton mosaic of softness,

The body of an individual in love,

Tumble and roll in glowing joy,

Fix a small tartine and a chamomile tea for one.

Originally written 2.6.12

Eyes Bigger Than My Stomach

I wish my bright eyes

Never see you again in
This life is too short to
Properly tend to your beauty for
It is disrespectful to have eyes bigger than
Your stomach I caressed one night with
My cheek housing an apparatus evolved to
Nibble off and swallow deep small bites of
You whom I want to consume across
An infinity of lifetimes

Not want to
Not rather
Not prefer
Not even for greedy and selfish affection 
But my only possible ability
But my only able possibility

For
To make you my fulltime job
A fact I cannot escape
I would lose myself
To you
Too willingly

Edited 9.30.12