Friday, 30 January 2015

Walking around with a broken heart

There is not much to say
Except the throat promises to burst any moment
And the chest, it’s still figuring out what to do
With all the space
Now that the heart is recoiling and shrinking
Hugging itself in the warm shower
The pretense of being loved
Despite the prickly broken-ness
The lie of laughing a little too loudly
Hoping someone will understand
That the damn joke is just not funny

Walking around with a broken heart
Like carrying your severed arms in your mouth
Dragging your broken legs in the burning sun
Punctures, wounds that keep spilling
The pain drips like water from a cracked drain
Picking it up in glasses, you have a bag full of hurt
Trying to clean up after
the bleeding ruptures of your broken heart.


Wednesday, 28 January 2015

When you find yourself just an inch away from
Falling in love with someone else
Ignore the blush on your cheek, the punch in your heart
And tell your friends as genuinely as you can
That this is just the natural human curiosity to want to know another human
To want to crawl under her skin and look at the world the way she does
To want to see if the water tastes any different, when you take a sip
from her glass; To check if your heart can still skip a beat;
A test to see if it can break again, after years of being protected;
Her eyes dare you every day to embrace a fire
To enjoy it even when it threatens to burn you;
It’s been years, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to ache
For somebody else’s touch;
You know her so well, you can complete her sentences
And now the delicious feeling of being startled by an unexpected
Gesture, remark, characteristic, joke
The excitement of peeling off the layers, of discovering a new person,
She’s beautiful, isn’t she?

But inside of you there will be electricity,
Nothing but panic flowing through your blood
The heart itches and pulls at your chest
Hurting your ribs as it tries to escape,
Your head hitting the Almira, the wall, missing steps
Tripping, falling, limping, crawling
Trying to get through the day
Trying to tell yourself again and again,
no, you’re not falling in love with someone else.
No you’re not.
No.

Thursday, 22 January 2015

Frilly skirts, off-shoulders, v-necks
Sweaters, suits, sun-dresses
Hairbands, socks, and fancy gloves
With pockets on the tips for the fingers
so the hands continue to function freely,
padded bras, push-up bras, sports bras
boxers and panties.

Last I remember,
Dogs, cats, wild beasts
Insects, birds, flowers and trees
Were unclothed

Somewhere along the way
Humans decided
That beauty was ripping the fur
Off of our skin,
That beauty was about
How well one can hide
All that is within.


Sunday, 11 January 2015

How to paint a human (on a canvas)

Your instincts will tell you
Scarless, flabless, flawless
Straight back, well-built muscles, gorgeous smile
Eyes that do not point in different directions
Shaped nails, thin nose, bouncy hair
Perky breasts, tight butt, flat tummy
Well-trimmed beard, hairless chest,
The man has to be taller than the woman.

It will terrify you to the bones
The thought of drawing
The penis, the vagina, the butthole
Pimples and punctures
And asymmetry
A leg shorter
A hand missing
Or eyes burnt with acid.

When you begin to paint your human
Question first
Your limited view of
Who you think a human is.