Posts for June 5, 2018 (page 2)

I liked the way it made me feel
to paint my face,
to alter nature.
I was in control,
I held the power. 
A lipstick queen,
self made from
pigments,
acids,
dyes,
synthetics. 
Without them,
stripped bare,
I am conscious of
every pore,
every freckle,
every mark,
every spot.
Without them
I am forced to reconcile with the reality of
my skin.
My face.
My imperfection.
Without them 
I am forced to reconcile with the reality that
everyone can clearly see 
my imperfection.
Without them,
I am forced to confront myself
for the first time,
despite the hours
spent sitting in front of a mirror,
carefully analyzing what to add.
Over time,
without the
pigments,
acids,
dyes,
synthetics,
I found my power
by wearing every pore,
every freckle
every mark,
every spot,
every imperfection.
I own my face.
I own my skin.

She could never have her father
So she chose men who could
never be hers
Whether they were available
Or not
Married
Depressed
Alcoholics
Charming, hateful, selfish
Psychologically
First she married her father
Then her mother
And when she saw what she had done
Saw it through the eyes of education
And Alanon
She stopped trying 
To make someone love her
She embraced that and those
Who loved what they saw
Who loved what they heard
Who loved the elephant
Now tame.

call me cast off
bastard son of Abraham
wanderer whaler

afloat on my best
friend’s coffin
sharks glide by me

they don’t seem
to like the taste
of orphans

So many poems
Toddle around in my head
Until time to write. 

Happiness knocked upon my door,
           I chose to let it in.
Although it stayed for a little while,
           I knew it’d leave again.

It talked and laughed and danced and joked
           And promised me the moon.
But with the blink of my brown eyes,
            It disappeared too soon.

It fled the scene one summer night
           And left me in despair.
I walked and cried and searched the town
            But happiness wasn’t there.

I wait for it to come again.
           I peek into the night.
My waiting heart will be in vain,
          Happiness,  has lost sight.

I sit alone, my only company
a vague sense that I would like some.
Without people to bounce against
the sharp edge of boundary blurs

and I become a smudge smeared
across other people’s calendars,
doctors and family marking my finish line,
the better to organize their own affairs.    

birdsong canvas
brushed with dabs
of cardinal
     oriole
     goldfinch
     bluebird
hummingbirds finally thrum
flit
chirp
add green
to day’s rainbow

My comfortable
sadness a well-read book of
lyrics sorrow sings

Constant companions
sunburn without blisters peel
morose melodies rind

two clawed landing gear
with majestic, outspread wings
totem pole raised.