April 26, 2005

Spaces inside of rooms...

...Unfamiliar and perhaps

panglossian
the world squeaks brand new

walls pressing
uncertain
always I am bedding the uncertain curve of home

stranger here
stranger there

everywhere I go I am plastic wrapped
and crinkling
madness wrestles prudent to the proverbial floor

whore that I am for women who feel as hard as they fuck
fuel me foolish
maybe flailing flopping filial

child of a land
laden with History/fettered halting

hinder me heartfelt
and frail

I only appear frail from some angles
bend me

I will not break even if you place me
forehead
to femur/fold me friend or enemy

fickle and afraid
love me/love me not

what sort of passion presents itself
both prison and portal

plenty plenty
hole to fall through this one

careful of this world round like a ball
Grandma says
hit it and watch it hurl heart and History

over fence and feeling
dance child dance for your supper

showtime is the right time
sing and dance silly bitch don't know

she should be moving
anti-stasis

keep it moving small girl fattening into
too many years of knowing

how to fall
drown

sink the angerless craft
ire is the raft upon which survival turns

caprice is what it will do to you
eventually
if you let it

life will throw you curved/balls and pussies
that rock schizophrenic

climbing you/wall and surface breaking
one moment
the next zipping through the grilled window

rolling fur and fury in the dirt
trap her

and she will break
you
heart and History aside

the ride has never been predictable
but the road has always been pretty to watch

harder to traverse
the lump of self settling awkward

and that throaty laugh
conscious of time and distance/other bodies

closer than mine
closer to yours

clever
the discovery
chance and candor

too soon too soon too soon
wish the years were better navigated

water and oceans of silence have made us
different people

heart and History
at odds

odd
how it feels like the time was wafer/thin
transparency melting slow on the curve of hip

lip
tongue tip
and tiny toes

entwined in moons bursting and morning
noon is when we finally separated
heart and History

Jamaica and me
tangled sheet and elbows bent

almost broken
scabbed
I will not remain in pieces

I intend to heal
eventually
heart and history will congeal

hello and goodbye twisted lock and finger
curls into caprice

caught between quiet and chaos
quick and slender

supple and sullied
snake and apple

slip the sweet holding/slender and hollow
hope into hindrance

hard and holy
wrench me human/hold me time
and tender

tell me truths
even if they bruise

mark me teeth and terror
tempt me

taint me plate tectonics
plant me

permanent
heart/History/hang me transparent

melting into hope
orchids and silence

necessary
but new

Posted by staceyann at 07:36 PM | Comments (4)

April 12, 2005

Death is a Motherfucker!

Nearly a week
since my uncle passed

no words have sprung eloquent
from finger
nor tongue

son of a nation
deserted I am mourning you
small sad moments lengthened when there is opportunity

writing is hard
when there is so much to say
not enough page/stage/rage to hold it all

the latter years we grew close
you
in my living room

fixing locks
sockets
walls/beds you never rested in
always you traveled home

to my cousins
Tracey
Toya
Sherrel

they mourn you now
staccato
without the predictability of rhythm

life is a minefield
negotiated in opportunity

lilts
and hints at being better tomorrow
another lifetime maybe

another life lived
with its purpose hidden

locked into the secrets
of time and windows closed

to open them is to look square
in the eye of leaving one reality
for one unsure walls tumbling

brutal

my favorite uncle is dead

nothing to say
nothing to do
but twirl the whirling dirge

round and round the hibiscus bush
the lush flurry of leaves

alive
in the face of such indifference

the funeral is Sunday
but I am here

task set
and things to do

things to do
things

always to do

Posted by staceyann at 11:58 AM | Comments (3)