Drawing A Line

Reply To Kipling

2006-09-25T19:43:00.000-07:00

Concubine and consort
Courtesean and queen
beautiful and deadly
not exactly as they seem

So virtous, so moral, all sweet and tenderness
Yes, Women, I have often heard, are the fairer sex.

But Ruddy darling, as much I
would like such dear devotion
I must admit I cannot claim
those sappier emotions.

When you wrote of danger in feminine disguise
you did forget this one small thing:
You're just one of the guys.

The weapons that we women use
they aren't always so clear
poison cups and gentle lies, it's true
we do hold dear.

My sweet, there are those other foes
which do not die so easy.
A man is not the only woe
to make a woman queasy.

A woman's greatest danger
wears the fairest face
the suffering and the pain
no dagger can erase.

There is no way to defeat
your very own reflection
and nothing spells out doom
like too much introspection.

The female of the species
is more deadly then the male
no man can wreak such havoc
no man can make her frail.

How is it you missed the mark?
That you didn't understand?
All the damage she receives
comes from her own hand...

Just Like Candy

2006-09-02T10:31:00.000-07:00

Be my sword
Be my shield
Be my righteous indignation
Bleed for me alone

Give me your pain
Turn yourself inside out
Let me have just a taste
Supple and sinuous, mold yourself to me

Salvation
Damnation
makes no difference in the end
To the brightest star in the heavens

Drain yourself to quench my thirst
Follow me in circles
Chasing this mad folly
Makes you mine

I'll swallow you in bits and pieces
savoring your flavor
soft and bitter
just like candy

Death Defying

2006-08-09T23:56:00.000-07:00

Perhaps I am a poor liar
but I am well practiced in deception.

In order to save myself I have:
feigned madness
offered my lips to the Devil
lain awake in sleep
while a strength I cannot lay claim to reached inside me.

I have pitiful weapons
only my small hands
quick mind
flexible conscience
protect me.

No matter how often I explain this,
that this is what it means to be a woman
weaker than your predator and helpless in your rage,
there is no explaining it.

So I will let him touch me
as long as I can bear it
and then I will "awaken"
pulling away carefully
a still and silent animal
careful not to arouse suspicion.

I am not a victim
but I am prey
and like any prey
I must use anything I can
anything at all
to evade capture.

And even though I am triumphant:
I have dissembled well and am safe
still I have not fought with righteous fury
and am condemned.

His Kiss

2006-08-06T20:47:00.000-07:00

Lord of the Dance
Lord of the Hunt
unfettered by humanity
His kiss is death
untainted by the stench of the grave

Lord of the Wilderness
Lord of Chance
ageless and dying
His kiss is fear
removed from hope

Horned One
Fallen One
virile and stricken
His kiss is madness
unburdened by serenity

Green Man
Dark Father
His kiss is love
encompassing all

The Melody

2006-06-10T21:01:00.000-07:00

The music speaks, muted and half-remembered
talking of you, of me, of the never was us
the projector in my mind rolling on a loop
the pictures fading, dim with age
yellow with regret

The never-never future without you
keeps me up nights
sweet young things flirting
smiling and dancing
heedless of the dangers
careless of their souls
while Death sings his courting song
crooning love and passion

One misspoken word
one unalterable step
the broken past and the breakable future
colliding in the melody that endlessly repeats

In The Past

2006-06-03T19:17:00.000-07:00

The trouble
with taking a trip
down memory lane
is that nothing is ever where you left it.

Old haunts change from coffee bar
to tanning salon
to abandoned building, left rotting
with all your old selves inside.

Old friends metamorphosize
into weird shapes
transform themselves
in ways you cannot understand
become unrecognizable.

Things that used to offer security
are worn to tatters
no longer support the weight
of your fears.

You're left standing, mouth agape
trying to remember when you saw them last
because in the past, everything was fine
familiar
normal
comfortable.

When it comes down to it
you're better off hunkering down with your memories
instead of looking for a connection in the here and now
everything is different and nothing you do or say or think
will return any of it to what it used to be.

Stand Inside Yourself

2006-05-14T20:48:00.000-07:00

The sound of children playing
women talking
an ordinary day in every respect

Look closer

each of these women is formidable
a pillar of fire, standing erect
shoulder to shoulder
disdaining the pity
that is rightfully theirs to claim.

The sisterhood of the mighty
like a temple they are venerated
like a temple they are powerful
like a temple they are at the mercy of time, and the fortunes of war.

Can you see him, the odd man in this circle?
The one whose face is tight, body pulled in?
The one who married a fighter, sent her off with a kiss and a gun?
He is more deserving of sympathy, for nothing in our world offers context for his life now.
He cannot claim that sympathy without shame and so he stands alone
apart
in a world of women
women sure of their place
women sure of their power
sure of their mission
their strength
standing inside themselves
proud pillars supporting the world.

Beltane

2006-04-29T19:20:00.000-07:00

I am sharpening my knife
beware of me
while you joke
my knife grows sharper
"All Irish are royal", you say
"There must have been three peasants on time share"
It is funny, your joke, but it is dangerous

I come from a long line of practical people
women who weren't afraid to stand up
take the blow and return it full measure
Soon They will make the sacred marriage
and the point of orgasm will make Him vulnerable
She will strike Him down, murder Him for his potent seed
Beware my sharp knife
my ancestor's blood is not yet thin
and the warrior-king lives only to die.

My knife grows sharper
My knife grows sharper
My knife is ready
for you.

Move In Passion

2006-04-07T21:55:00.000-07:00

I imagine seducing you
being the modern courtesan I have been compared to
by other men less skilled in the trade of death.

I imagine your lean frame intertwined with my softer form
both of us drunk on the scents of
sex and steel.

I imagine taunting you
my voice low, husky, unlike the voice I really own
watching you crumble inside
relishing your destruction.

I imagine you as wiser than you are
a gentleman killer who wipes his sword on a linen handkerchief
and is coldly polite to his victims
my victim now but no gentleman.

My fantasies coexist with reality
but only tenuously, wispy frail, substance shy
I have invented you from whole cloth
and can not imagine why I would want you.

In life you are crude, a caricture of my courtly destroyer
and I am no artist of debauchery
I am plain-spoken and ill-equipped to conquer even so low a man.

But in my dreams you are dashing
in my dreams I am elegant
in my dreams we cut a swathe through the world
dancing dangerously on the knife's blade
lapping up the blood and relishing the poisoned kiss.

In my dreams we are a fine couple
well-suited, slaying one another
into infinity.

Just A Trace

2006-03-20T20:09:00.000-08:00

It's the smell of smoke
of running hard in the early morning
it is clear water so cold
it stops your heart.

It's the seductive assault
of turpentine, sharp and mean
of latex and steel warmed
by flesh.

It's that electronic smell
from the inside of computers
and software cases
it is pressed and polished
starch and cotton
faintly warm and acrid.

Just a trace of you
twining insidiously inside me
reminding me
that you'll be here soon.

In the Haze

2006-03-19T07:48:00.000-08:00

I sit in the shadows of madness
surrounded by the nearly-dead
whisphering indeciperable answers
to imbecilic questions
offering witty quips
to Death astride His pale horse
the tatterdemalion
remnants of humanity
mere vapor, lost in smoke
attempting to find meaning
in glowing embers
who can succor
me now?

Displaced

2006-02-03T17:05:00.000-08:00

The house is still now,
seemingly waiting for you,
trailing off midsentence to
listen for your voice, the rattle
of the door, anything that would
herald your approach
Straining, the silence
knows the wait is futile
but waits still, uncomplaining.

A song in the background
croons, "glued together body
and soul" and exhales softly
"never die young" while
you vanish from our lives
a piece at a time and I wonder
if he really knows what it is
he's talking about

Your voice, saying I love you
every time I press the play button
pathetically clinging to what little of
you remains: the copy of your voice, a pillow case
scented with your sweat, an old picture
of us before now...

You were here and now
you are somewhere else
There are no more messes now
no endless parade of cups to
pick up and put away your
last cup of coffee quietly
emptied and quietly washed
things you left in place
returned to their proper homes
all the traces of you slowly fading
as if you did not really live here
did not spend any time here at all

Deadly Reverance

2006-01-07T13:31:00.000-08:00

With deadly reverence
I propitiate dark Gods,
fighting silent battles
that never happen.
I worship the dancers
of death, trading in the coin
of the realm, fear
the only currency with any value.
I mouth words, soundless as
I stare into my small one’s
eyes. Never stop watching
if you blink, if you take your
gaze away for one moment,
they will snatch him. He will
be gone and you will go
mad. Am I mad even
now? I live in
between heartbeats,
seeing the shades of the
honored dead, the ones
who left me behind, the ones
who beat me to the finish line.
Last and first, first and last,
and with perfect solemnity
I wait for evil.

(This is an old poem, but one I really like. Particularly now, it seems to resonate with me.)

Walk In The Garden

2006-01-05T20:55:00.000-08:00

Let's take a walk together
You and I
It's getting dark
and cold

Let's take a long walk
talk over all the things
we've forgotten
things better left unsaid

Let's go for one last walk
try to find all
the people we lost
on earlier walks
those still missing and missed

Quickly now, let's walk on
the light is growing dim
we're almost there
and still so much left
to say

Our walk is over now
we're at the garden's gate
and I feel you slipping
away, in a hurry to get
there

One last hug and
good-bye, rushed
as always never
enough time it
feels as though
we've just gotten
started but
it's time for you
to go

Run and join the dance
say hello to everyone
for me, give them my love,
tell them I'll see them soon

I have to walk back now
without you
without them
alone and cold.

***In Memory of my grandfather, Orvall M. French.***

MixTape

2005-08-20T21:11:00.000-07:00

pouring myself
empty
the news is full
of ominous warnings
marriage and children
are dangerous to
women's health

laugh at the cruel
joke
already shaking
in pain crippled
a bit at at time
from oversharing

out of everything lately
out of luck
out of money
out of patience
and desire
and freedom

when did time
alone in my head
and a mixtape
become time off?

Hindsight

2005-08-11T20:35:00.000-07:00

I was born
a Daddy's
girl
payment in kind
for the son he wanted
and would not have
till much later when
he no longer wanted
to be anybody's father

When my Daddy left
because he had discovered
that being Daddy took
too much out of him
I cried 'til I was sick.

When he told me
years later that
leaving was just
what Daddys do
I could not cry
because I had no
more tears left.

And even though
I have not seen
my Daddy in
years because
he couldn't wouldn't
be anything like a Daddy
couldn't wouldn't be
bothered to pay any
respect to the dead mother
of his children because it
was all too much...even now,

I am still Daddy's girl
the girl he raised me
to be smart unafraid
the equal of any man
in strength and bravery
knowing deep in my
bones that men
even Daddys
can not be relied on
ever.

Denial

2005-08-06T22:09:00.000-07:00

I dream nightly
of the worst things
that can happen.

I am an actor
and I have
rehearsed my part
many times with
a patience that springs
from a life
of the worst.

Once the worst has happened
you can never be surprised again.

I practice what will happen
when you die so that I
will not be surprised.

I have buried you
an infinite number of times
and still, when I see you
sleeping peacefully
I am forced to confront
the idea that I can
not practice for
the worst.

You ask me why
I am weeping
and I can not
share with you
this fatalism
that you will
die and I
will be
alone
again
forever.

I can not
tell you because I
can not admit
that I try to
barricade myself from
the worst. I can not
admit that I practiced
my mother's death for
years before it ever happened.

It did not help. I could not
conceive of a life without her
just as I can not conceive a
life without you.

Still still still
I practice I rehearse
I do not want the
rawness of grief to
shock me, swamp me,
destroy me.

I do not remember
how to be alone and
I fear that when you
die I will come apart
from the aloneness.

Can we be forever
as we are now
together young
and unblemished
together
striding forward and
not alone?

Road Trip

2005-07-19T09:04:00.000-07:00

driving east
away from you
I didn't stop
to visit this time.

no grief
because
i've learned, you see.

i've learned
i can never really
leave you behind

our long argument
is over and i still
hold up my
end of
the conversation.

lessons you taught
are lessons i
teach now.

words that used
to flow from
your lips
now tumble
unbidden from mine.

i wear you under
my skin and like
a snake
i will shed my skin
and I will stand
revealed, finally

my mother's daughter.

A Bending

2005-06-28T20:14:00.000-07:00

Ever denied the truth
until you believed
the lie was real?

The truth
was like
gum: you took it out
twisted it into fantastical
shapes, blew it up until
it POPPED.

How many times
can I say I'm sorry
for crimes I never
committed evil
I never accomplished?

How long can you scream
bending reality to your
own designs forcing
life to take the shape
of the lie.

It comes in waves
nausea and truth
once you think
you're settled
it storms your
gates, chokes
you with it's
insistance.

The punchline
comes when
the truth no
longer matters:
lost and crazed
cold and dazed
the lie is real
and you are
undone.

On A Dare

2005-06-11T22:42:00.000-07:00

Sweet soft succubus
calling crawling
coming into me.

forever into never
I despair of permanancy
and oblivion
knows
my
name.

(This was written as part of writing contest between a cute boy and myself. I won but I'm not particularly proud of this piece. It lacks polish and meaning. But I still won which is what counts.)

Stain

2005-06-11T07:06:00.000-07:00

Come forth gods of
death and deceit
lust and fear
evil that lives in
small spaces.

I have lost my reason
and therefore become
unreasonable.

I am
the immaculate
conception of pain
bright and shiny
flowing swift as
liquid steel.

Trapped by pain
we are slaves.
When have we ever
been free?

Double Edged Sword

2005-06-09T17:46:00.002-07:00

How far would you go
to get your point across?

Men have killed and died
to make a point: This is wrong,
This is right
Because I said so.

I have often envisioned
what I could become
to make a point.

A deadly queen
sharp and cruel
willing to slaughter
thousands in the
name of justice and
peace.

Swift and silent
the transformation
from idealist
to cynic
to despot
to God.

Our points
are so fragile
and demanding.
They can be
demolished
by anyone with
wit but they
are strong enough
to drink the blood
of an entire nation.

How far would you
go to prove your point?

Testing

2005-04-20T21:57:00.000-07:00

I want to write about what it means
to be a woman
today

Probably it's not so different
from being a woman
living under the rule of
Pharaoh
Caesar
Emperor
Fuhrer

We grow up learning
to fight for ourselves
the myth of the valiant savior
makes us laugh
neither God nor Man
has ever saved us

Our bodies are seen
as trophies
prizes for the conquering heroes
Our children are fodder
for the machinations of
God and Man

Whether we have found
our voices or not
we are still property
struggling to protect ourselves
from a terrible strength we lack

Whether we are paid for
our work or not
we still do more work
than the men who
posess more power
more rights than we do

In the end being a woman
today means just what it did
under Pharaoh, Caesar, Fuhrer.

There is always too much
worry and pain to go around
and not enough of us.

Just Killing Time

2005-03-31T21:19:00.000-08:00

Aren't you tired yet?
It's a lot of work
being you and
being me.

Can we rest now?
Take a break
from all the
chaos.

More and more
it seems like we're
just killing time
softly slowly
putting in the
hours it takes
just enough effort
to squeak by
without strain
without having
to deal.

I know the
joy of life is in
the struggle
but sometimes
the burden
is unbearable.

Sometimes it takes
everything we have
to get up get moving
get through the day.

Let's take a break from
life, just you and me.
We'll lay back, relax
into the emptiness
and just not be
for awhile.

Aren't you tired yet?

Singular

2005-03-26T20:54:00.000-08:00

It's late and I'm beat
stroking gently, fingers
sliding through the wet

hot and humid, slightly sticky
twirling around and around
spot on sometimes but not
too much

moaning, pleading
make me beg, stopping
just long enough to tease
getting nervous that it
might be over

I'm working for it
reaching for it
legs stiff
body shaking
If I'm lucky
I've got salty
sticky boy cum there
It always feels better with
your cum.

Fingers sliding in and out
around and underneath

Mmm, got it
hot and hazy
slippery and supple
dissolving and coalescing

You said jacking off
wasn't fun anymore.

You lied.

Back

2005-03-25T13:51:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I think

Sometimes I think you come

Sometimes I think you come back

Sometimes I think you come back
to tease me. Taunt me with the taste of
you.

The taste of you intoxicates me
worms it's way inside me like an
ice-cream headache, pleasure
so intense it's painful.

Got The Shakes

2005-03-25T13:45:00.000-08:00

So full up with it
you're quivering-

you stare at me
inscrutable
flinching because
I don't know what it
is I've done
forgot to do

I smile
attempting mystery
never quite sure if I succeed.

I want to be
alluring and mysterious
I'd like to be bright female
sexuality and power.

Your glare
tells me I've missed again.
I start to shake, craving
what comes next.

Blood and breath
fucking and hating
loving you for it
Damn you to hell
I love you for it.

Happy

2005-03-24T21:48:00.000-08:00

I'm terrified
We're becoming normal
Seeking happiness
Settling down
Settling in
Settling

Remember being angry all the time? Flying for days on end, fueled by caffeine and rage stopping to smoke, fuck, bleed, evade, feel? When was the last time you felt rage? I don't remember anymore being mad enough to kill. Happiness is poison. It numbs the emotions, leaves you sleepy and dopey. It makes you prey, not predator. I don't want to be happy anymore. I want to hate, to hurt, to destroy. I can't figure out how to hide from normal.

Fuck Risk

2005-03-24T21:38:00.000-08:00

I don't like to take risks
I won't share my coffee
I hate backseat drivers

Little things like that
make me and drive
you to distraction

(You'll have to drive alone. I hate riding with you.)

I want lower expectations
and less emotional
boo-boos to kiss.

Make the focus
softer the light
less moody
European soft-porn
has less angst than
our life together
not everything is earthshaking
(orgasms should always be)

Stand apart from me
be distant
and dark
the way you were when we
met Don't try to
push into me
I'm secretive
and mean

I admire people
with secrets
and busy schedules
Always available
makes me crazy
I don't want to
be always available

Be mysterious
Be moody
Be somebody else sometimes.
Be crazy with me.

Today

2005-03-24T18:25:00.001-08:00

Don't ask me
for help
or instructions

I don't want to talk today.

Don't tell me you
love me, that I'm funny
and smart.

I don't need reassurances today.

Don't prattle on with your
half-feigned martyr's sigh
about your schedule or
your problems.

I don't care today.

Today I'm invisible
silent and deadly. I'm soft
and sleepy, and feeling
self-indulgent.

Today I don't belong to you.

Hiding From The Rage

2005-03-24T18:24:00.000-08:00

I spend a lot of time
Hiding From The Rage.

My old scars are
Shiny and new now
I ball my rage up
Into something bright and
Hard.

I tuck it away
In the dark where
No one can see it
Where I can fondle it
and gorge myself on it.

My rage is more satisfying
Than any lover
It quiets my impulse
To damage me you him her them.

Amo Amos Amat
Fuck love
Fuck me
Until the rage
Is spent

Until we're broken
Bleeding dead
Dying to tell you

It'll be okay
It's always okay
I make it okay for you.

Okay for you for me
But I don't trust you
With my rage-

Not anymore.
Our okay is too fragile
For rage for fear for doubt.

So stay away from my rage
It's mine, only mine
Pure and untouched
Molded by you and
Every other fucker who
Couldn't handle it.
Men and women who
Spend their days
Hiding from the rage.

Nostalgia

2005-03-23T20:34:00.001-08:00

You're fucking her again
skin slick hands rough
smelling of booze
decadent and dangerous

I hate this
I hate that
you're touching her
when you should be
touching me

I never had claim
and even if I did
it lapsed forever ago

I wouldn't even mind
if it was an also
and not an instead of

Damn it but I miss you
Life gets hard
the bed gets cold
even with somebody in it

I prattle about sex not meaning
anything and mostly it doesn't
not when fucking is just bodies

But you had more than just my body
and fuck me I want what I gave you
back. When you left you took my
secret self with you.

I've been there all the time
curled inside you hoping
you'd notice me touch me
again so I could spring
forth and be branded
skin slick hands rough
decadent and dangerous
with you one more time

Drawing A Line

2005-03-23T20:34:00.000-08:00

At some point
along the way

I drew a line
between me and
you

I pamper you
pander to you
make your coffee
make your bed

I don't know you
you never knew me

I hid from everyone
but him
but you never saw
what he saw

You bought the goods
in the window and
never bothered
to inspect them

The chinks in my
armor were vast
Purposefully blind
you gazed through me
happy with the fiction

I love you for
the fiction

I hate you for
the fiction

I want to be
weak sometimes
soft sometimes
boring sometimes
tired sometimes

I'm not allowed
It isn't in the
script

We play our
parts now
and in
twenty years

maybe we'll
still play
maybe we
won't even
speak anymore

Once
A long time ago
I drew a line
between me
and you

You never saw it
and I refuse to
cross it

Playing Tag
and I'm safe
behind the line

Dysfunction

2005-03-18T20:27:00.000-08:00

Stuck in a small body
confined for an endless
age Never able to move
or breathe or really
streeeeeeetch out
and just be

Too many:
places to go
people to see
things to do
goals to accomplish

But those are better
far better than not
going anywhere
meeting anyone
doing anything
better than failing
failing to be do see

There is a world
an eon an epoch
of hope and
expectation
confined in this
one small body
An entire family
line come down
to this small
frail form

Be
Do
See
for those who can
no longer

Feel them press
onto you the
combined weight
of an entire family
on shoulders barely
strong enough to carry
your own weight

Be
Do
See for
us all and remember
remember who you are
who we were what
must come from this

I do. I never forget. I can't.

Helpless

2005-03-18T20:21:00.000-08:00

Words fail
words falter
People fail
people falter

we drop our burdens
leave our job
half-done
racing ahead to
reach for the
golden ring
the promise
of a day
a week
a life off

death is
the ultimate
vacation
the only
real way
to escape our
duties and finally
irrevocably
relax.

we leave behind
others to pick up
our burdens
to finish our
jobs. perhaps
the only redeeming
quality of the human
race comes in that.
there will always be
someone to take up
the standard where
it was dropped in our
headlong dash to reach
the finish line.

Stolen

2005-03-18T06:45:00.000-08:00

luxiuriating in a sunny
morning, a hot cuppa
coffee, and a good book
I am sinning against
the Protestant work
ethic.
guilty pleasures
are the most fun
a stolen kiss
when the baby is busy
a movie in the afternoon
all by myself
to deviate
even if for a minute
from the relentless pressure
of duty, of responsibilty
of being an adult
just for a stolen second
to be carefree and reckless
surely ranks up there with
the seven deadly.
but laying back in my
stolen moment, I
don't give a damn.

About

2005-03-18T06:39:00.000-08:00

I hate when you can't find the point of a blog anywhere. No description, no raison d'etre, just a bunch of words on a page. This is my secret writing page. Most of what I write comes from my life and as I enjoy having people in my life, I have to have an out of the way place to put this stuff. Love, loathe it, whatever.