Short book (60 pages) of femminist based confessional poems about my life
This book contains poems of erotica, pain and joy, i think all women will relate to in as well as some men.
Excerpt
POEMS FOR A BLUE MOON
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Insomniac Blues 2
Mothers and Daughters 3
Cognition 4
Succulent Fruit 6
My Tree House 7
Silent Scream 9
High Tide 11
Low Tide 12
Rebirth 14
Suddenly Shy 16
What Now, Erica Jong? 17
For Lan 19
Love Zone 22
La Que Sabe (The One Who Knows) 23
Surrender 25
Reflections 26
The Wait 27
An Elfin Tale 29
Coming and Going 31
Ode to a Friend 32
The Carousel 33
You Again 35
Shelter 37
The Trickster 38
Partners 40
Old Love 42
Metaphysical Dumping Ground 45
Happy New Year (1) 47
Happy New Year (2) 48
Time Out 50
Frozen Tears 52
Female Power 54
Hump Day 56
We’re not in Kansas Any More 57
Lovely Lacey 59
INSOMNIAC BLUES
Insomnia lurks like a demon in the corner of my room
Talons drawn and ready to spring
I lie in wait for its descent I know will come
Enveloping me in great wings of darkness
Like a giant succubus
The sleeping house begins to breathe
Footsteps move in the apartment upstairs
Somewhere in the house a clock is ticking
Then it begins in earnest
All my disappointments and regrets spilling
Over into my psyche
Until I give up even the façade of slumber
There is no magic potion to ease me through the night
Although Lord knows I’ve tried
Only time will tell
And the blessed relief that morning brings.
MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS
Fragile as the gossamer strands of a spider’s web
Strong as tempered steel
A contradiction of vulnerability and strength
Our love hangs in the balance
Mothers and daughters, a complex riddle
We spend the first half of our lives in separation
Only to find out in the end
We are the same after all
As ageless and timeless as the moon
In all her many phases
This love surpasses all expectations
And endures beyond the grave
COGNITION
Questions fly around my head
like bats in a cave
beating their frantic wings
against my psyche
Light of day sometimes frightens them
so they push forward
only to once again retreat
back to the safety of the onyx-black gloom
The muse in me looks within
and urges me to proceed
through the labyrinth of my mind
to my higher self on the other side
You are an abstraction in my reverie
forcing me to test my willingness
to embrace the unknown
shaking my safety net of rational
And I, who have lived my life
in the shadow of intemperance
must learn the moderation
to let the mystery unfold
SUCCULENT FRUIT
I feel like a sexual plum
ripe for the picking
there is a fine sheen of heat
on my skin these days
Lately, I have taken to
stroking my thigh
hot and smooth to my touch
as I drive down the road
People stare at me
in the grocery store,
on the street,
in the halls at work
And I just smile to myself
like a juicy Mona Lisa
knowing it’s only you
who will share this heat with me
MY TREE HOUSE
(Hansel and Gretel Revisited)
I live in a treehouse, up amongst the rooftops
you will know it when you see it
the windows will all be open
and the sweet, sultry sound of the blues
will drift down on the breeze
Come inside, if you dare
but let me warn you of my hunger
lest it frightens you
Like the witch in Hansel and Gretel
pushing her sweets
I too offer many delights to entice you
all the while edging you closer to my oven
But I don’t think you’ll mind
for the walls are soft
and lined with kisses
So, watch carefully the next time
you come by my way
the walkway will be littered with crumbs
spelling out your name
SILENT SCREAM
words spill into
the fragmented night
“critical”
“unknown quantity”
“overdose”
my baby, overdosed on heroin
stretched out on a dirty bathroom floor
surreal images paint the night
you,
pale as death
hooked up to a machine
as time ticks away
charcoal vomit coats the walls
of a cubicle
on the road to hell
“listen to your angels”
I beg
and I kiss the freckles you so hate
as my heart shatters into
a million tiny pieces
a lifetime later you open your eyes
“what are you staring at”, you ask
“haven’t you seen anyone on their
death bed before?”
and I give thanks
to all that’s holy
for giving us
another chance
HIGH TIDE
Lonely rivers
flowing to the sea
offer themselves
to many brooks in passing
so it was with me, once
lately I have chose
to chart my own course
a solitary tributary
marking time within it’s own bed
no high or low tides
no crashing white caps
no origin of destination
till you appeared
Neptune like, out of nowhere
into my flow
forcing me to once again
risk the undertow
LOW TIDE
The tide recedes
the Siren’s song dies
and Neptune has feet of clay
benumbed and desensitized
I am washed up on some
unknown sandbar
to quietly nurse my bruises
and to be dashed upon the rocks no more
no more the surge and swell
of violent waves,
but also
no more gentle ones, lapping soft
I am left to retreat in pain
to my own solitary riverbed
once again
to mark time alone once more
and to leave the undertow
to those who don’t fear drowning
REBIRTH
I took back my power today
my white-hot power
that crackles with electricity
I am magic
I am a Goddess
I am a good witch
but, don’t piss me off
I look at my cats
at my Van Gogh prints
at my sleeping daughter
and I know who I am
wholly, fully myself
I no longer need a disapproving
daddy man
a dark sided brooding man
a punishing macho-man
to keep me down on me
No longer willing
to hang on to that meat-hook
and call it love
I take back my power
I reclaim it
And in so doing
I set myself free
SUDDENLY SHY
You intrude almost daily into my thoughts
tall, dark and handsome, you are a
distraction in my reverie
suddenly shy, I don’t know what to say
But, if you could read my mind
when it’s racing madly,
after you leave
about all the things I should have said
you would be amazed
WHAT NOW ERICA JONG?
Floating free, suspended in time
I drift above myself
is there a hidden sense for numbness?
Maybe it comes into play
after the sense of touch has gone awry
old loves somehow keep me living in the past,
or is it just that the new ones
seem to troublesome to contemplate?
I fear I’m out of the running,
now that I’ve lost my “fear of flying”
I fear there is nowhere left to fly to
And, if by some chance some exotic new territory
were to open up to me
would I have the strength or desire to go there
or even to recognize it
Or would I choose the safety
of my numbness?
I have heard there are some birds
who never choose to leave their cage,
I believe it now, don’t you?
FOR LAN
Beautiful young woman with the
blueberry hair
purple-black down your back
always and uncertain smile
never quite believing
that you fit in anywhere
don’t you know how loveable
you were
didn’t anyone ever tell you
imprisoned days in the family store
while your mother
shrieks at you in Vietnamese
“Lan hurry up, Lan, you bad girl
Lan you no good”
beautiful young woman with the
blueberry hair
and a blueberry bruise
where your brother struck you
“you don’t have to be hit”
I said
And wept, because I knew you would
Lovely young woman with the
blueberry hair
and the blueberry tear
in your heart
Your boyfriend’s murder
one more rung backwards
on that slippery, spiral staircase
to sanity
Lovely young woman
with the blueberry hair
and the blueberry tracks in her arms,
“see how they run”
Lady Madonna
With the blueberry hair
face down on the floor
with the blueberry stains
under the skin of your face
where the blood has pooled
Lovely young woman
with the blueberry hair
no more…..
LOVE ZONE
What a perfect
space in time
no need for reason
to our rhyme
holding back
while letting go
while the fire
burns below
tongues of flame
that burn so sweet
as flesh on flesh
our bodies meet
come again
come some more
let your passion
wash ashore
and when at last
you’re drained and spent
I’ll swallow you up
and start again
LA QUE SABE
(THE ONE WHO KNOWS)
There is a wild woman living deep within me
down close to my ovaries
she is primitive, she is wild
she is all-knowing
I have learned over the years to listen
ever carefully to her voice
sometime she commands me in the loudest of tones
while at others, she speaks to me in a hushed whisper
She is my wise crone self, my protector
my wolfish nature
she has been called many things,
Lilith, La Labo, Earth Mother,
I choose to call her friend
This morning she rose up in gratitude
for the peace and energy she felt inside
and the knowledge that many paths would be
presenting themselves, validated by your words
Yes, I have a wild woman inside me
she is primitive and heart-centered,
I have promised to nurture her
and love her carefully
in return for her wise counsel and knowing
SURRENDER
The wind howls down my bones tonight
resonating off the hollowness within,
then through the canyon of my soul
Surely, I have reached the final stages
of my grief for you
no longer howling at the moon,
but unable to listen to love songs
without that familiar twist of pain
If I could wish you back, Goddess knows
I would
But it is time for me to let go of the
dream of you
to move out and away from the memory, and
firmly, finally, into me self
REFLECTIONS
You shattered into a hundred jagged fragments
with his leave taking
they hovered and shimmered, emerging reborn
newly tempered and stronger yet
It doesn’t take all the kings horses, or all the
kings men, my friend
it takes a true desire to know and honor oneself
the darkness and the light
in equal measures, need love and understanding
if one is to become whole
so, shine brightly throughout your life
and may the only shadow you ever stand in
be your own
THE WAIT
I’ve been hiding for so long
behind the door marked pain
that I almost didn’t recognize you,
and let you in
But, in you came
unfolding me carefully
like a flower
opening me up, with those
big, gentle hands of yours
Was it my scent that drew
you to me then
and my need, primitive and raw
or was it the matching hunger
in our eyes
You came in and breathed the
breath of life back into my
tired heart
you stoked the fire in my loins,
and made me go soft again
I have been waiting for you for so long
my copper colored lover
I never thought you’d come
So, for as long as you can stay,
Welcome
AN ELFIN TALE
Once upon a time
in the land of rhyme
there dwelled an elf so tender
On her way home
she did meet a gnome
who inquired of elfin gender
And so she thought
as she stirred her pot
whatever could his point be
For she did not know
That in a gnome’s heart grows
love as big as infinity
So, he wrote her poems
about the love of gnomes
till, at last her heart did melt
and now they dwell
in a wooded dell
the gnome and the elfin Celt
COMING AND GOING
What more could I ask than this?
Your body suspended over mine
held aloft
then plunging down once more
burrowing deep within the core of me
keeping you there between my thighs
until together
we explode into a thousand fragments
Then, to lay there, breath subsiding
Just one more moment please,
let me keep the glow a little longer
I know I’m just one item on your days’ agenda
but moments like this are all too few
and this is all I’ll ask of you
Often, the memory is all I have
to go on
for longer than a memory should last
ODE TO A FRIEND
I tried to write you a poem
using words for all the gifts
you have given me
Gifts like acceptance
tolerance, and of course,
unconditional love
But I couldn’t make a rhyme
out of my reason
Suffice it so say
I am grateful for you
old friend
You are a constant in me
ever changing world
and a part of the woman I have become
And, simply, I love you
THE CAROUSEL
You don’t always get the gold ring
when you ride the carousel
sometimes all you get is a ride
a long, slow ride of up and down
on an exotically painted stallion
and sometimes that’s enough
and sometimes it’s not
Come to think of it, I don’t know anyone
who ever got the golden ring
the ride is all there is
for most of us
I think I’m getting too old for carousels
they make my head dizzy
and, if the ride is especially good
I want to ride again and again
And the stallion usually only wants
to go around once
before he drifts back around to his own mare
the keeper of the golden ring
YOU AGAIN
You again…
from back in time
no need for reason
to our rhyme
holding back
while letting go
as the fire
builds below
tongues of fire
that burn so sweet
as flesh on flesh
our bodies meet
come again,
come once more
let waves of passion
wash ashore
and when your spent
and passion-drained
I’ll swallow you up
and start again
SHELTER
I am swimming in your sea green eyes
drowning in the scent of you
the taste of you
I cannot work
or think
of anything, but you
The softness of your breasts
the hardness of your mound
I long to devour you
to swallow you up and into my soul
Until lost in vanilla flavored kisses
we rest in each other’s arms
sheltered from the storm
THE TRICKSTER
The trickster plays his subtle hand
his lover to ensnare
With promises of “ever after”
he’ll climb into your treehouse
and bring a symphony along in his pocket
His cock will become a winged Pegasus
that dips and dives within
While candles flicker ‘round the loft
and the smell of incense fills the air
mixing with the scent of sex
Until the music and your own sweet self
will rise to the crescendo
He promises ever after,
he’ll want you for his own
he’ll clad you in silk and satin
his arm to adorn
But beware,
he’ll snatch back his love
quicker than a heart beat
if you dare to have a voice
And as you swallow yourself
bit by bit
you will realize in time, if you’re lucky
that it/he was just another trick
PARTNERS
We’ve been testing ourselves
and each other
pushing at boundaries
and psyches
torn by too much pain
But there is a screaming
in my soul
and cold wind howls
down my bones
when you are gone
So, I must learn how
to keep my demons at bay
and take the greatest risk
of all
To love you with the
entire weight of my love
and to have the courage
to let the mystery unfold
to trust that finding you
after all this time
can only be my life’s
greatest blessing
OLD LOVE
If I could stop loving you,
don’t you think I would?
If I could do just the right ritual
under the right full moon,
don’t you think I would?
But, I don’t know how to unlove you,
no matter how hard I have tried
I have come to accept certain
truths about my self now,
that every time I hear a love song,
my thoughts will fly to you
and every time I lay with some new man
I will miss your weight
And feel the sadness
of the loss of you
No weight will ever be as
perfect as yours,
no other touch will melt the flesh
right off my bones
It is not fair to these others
but, still, it is so
If I could just unlove you
don’t you know I would
At first I thought I would die
from the loss of you
later, I knew that I would live
but with these shards of broken glass
sticking out of my heart
No one else can see them
but they and feel them
if they get too close
piercing them, pushing them away
they are my protection, my armor,
they keep these others from entering
and they keep part of you locked in
that hidden chamber
Listen carefully, lost love
during the next full moon
and you will still hear me
howling in the night
METAPHYSICAL DUMPING GROUND
Time out of space
space out of time
life comes back to haunt me
from some tainted, ancient time
What does it all mean?
Should I take the blame
for something I know nothing of
but am part of just the same?
I don’t quite understand
your karmic link to me
but why not just accept the fact
and simply let it be?
You know we’re all just passing through
from this life to the next
we are all just simply characters
in an ever-changing text
Why couldn’t you just rejoice in
the joy I brought to you
and accept that we’re good together
be it fate or de ja vu?
I refuse to be drawn into
The metaphysical games you play
they just give you an “out” when you feel the heat
so I’ll be on my way
HAPPY NEW YEAR (1)
The year dies with a whimper
dressed in a shroud of gray and mauve
it lingers on the periphery of my vision
before making it’s perennial slide
into history
All in all, it’s been a hard year
and I am glad to see it go
an uneasy alliance of events for me
I am left with the expectation
of better things to come
The only things I know with any certainty
is that I will grow older,
hopefully kinder, if not wiser,
that my children will still love me
and my friends (the ones that matter)
will still welcome me
and for now, that is enough
HAPPY NEW YEAR (2)
It is the last day of the year
and I sit alone at my desk
writing this poem
I could go out into the manic night
there are places I could go
people I could be with
but I prefer the solitude
and the chance to be alone
reflecting on our love
It’s not so much you I miss
you are my betrayer
my mask of pain
Is it the love I miss,
or the illusion I carried?
I wonder now if that is all love is
An illusion, a projection
a desire to be saved
but there is no savior
save for self,
I know that now
All in all, the year’s been hard
and I am glad to see it die
laid out in its’ shroud of misty gray
I am glad to see it laid to rest
TIME OUT
I can deal with anger
There is something cleansing
In unrepressed fury
justified or unjustified
it leaps forth with a vengeance
then recedes with grace
Anger, a white-hot emotion
that smacks of passion
and of caring, maybe too much
But, spare me your indifference
when you treat me with disdain
I put up walls of me own
When you spurn my efforts
In order to punish, it feels too cold
And hints of not caring enough
I’ve no time for rejection
or lessons in insouciance
or in games where we both come out losers
FROZEN TEARS
I am still possessed by the ghost of you
but less than last month
or even last week
Still I had a coitus-interuptus of sorts
last night in the middle of sex
with some nameless, faceless man
And I knew
with that heart smashing weight of finality
that no one ever again
would be you
All the men that rise and fall before me
will not be you
for the weight of you
is lost to me forever
And the sobs rose up in my throat
till they formed a silent scream inside my head
while all the while I waited
for some nameless, faceless man to come
FEMALE POWER
Little beach houses all in a row,
wooden boxes up on stilts
most of them deserted
waiting on the days of summer
Only ours is full of life
water color paintings
are drying on the deck
while towels adorn the rail
The charcoal pit contains the ashes
from our morning ritual
just as tonight, it will cook our food
Then we will paint and write
and talk amongst ourselves
no male bashing here
we have made our peace with man
In the Whirlwind is a poetic storm that frees history from the cages of corruption and puts it in the hands of everyday people. Words are weaved into a new fashion statement that has nothing to do with runways but everything to do with projects!
