luna_virgo: XVIII The Moon, Victoria Regina Tarot (Default)
9/11

Of course I remember that day.
I could tell you, as everyone else does,
about how I found out, where I was
when I got the news.
I could make it all about me.
I could indulge in the
media's grief porn.

No.

All the news stories,
all the flags at half-staff,
all the masturbatory Facebook posts
won't bring back
a single person who died that day,
or who died in our
national orgasm of revenge.

No.

I don't think we will ever learn.
We are a country founded on
spilled blood, on violence,
on conquest. It's in us,
as a nation, as a people,
and it's rooted in our religion.
Do we have any right to complain
about radical Islam or any other
affront to human dignity when
we have committed centuries
of Christian terrorism ourselves?

No.

Feminist poems

Sunday, January 24th, 2016 06:16 am
luna_virgo: XVIII The Moon, Victoria Regina Tarot (Default)
Inheritance

When I was
in my twenties and bold,
I sat in my mother's car
discussing politics, and she said
"It's a man's world"
with a hard, almost gleeful
brittle smile.

I said
"Only cause you let it be".
She smirked,
and I hated her.
I couldn't get out
of that car fast enough.
I didn't know then
how easily a callus forms,
and how necessary it can be.

I hope my nieces get a better version
of the world,
of her, and of me.



Haiku for women who won't own it

When I hear you say
"I'm not a feminist, but
women are equal",

I think you're stupid.
What the fuck do you think that
word means anyway?
luna_virgo: XVIII The Moon, Victoria Regina Tarot (Default)
I wrote this haiku when my stepmother died, but it seems very fitting today.

Milky Way

Sea of stars the dead
Must navigate, slipping
Beyond earthly forms.

Do they dissipate,
Blend into all, into one?
Or change entirely

Through some alchemy,
Sleight of hand and cosmic joke
Awaiting us there?
luna_virgo: (Boots)
(This poem is inspired by recent events and contains the uncensored n-word. I think it's pretty clear in context that I'm quoting and that I take a very harsh view of racism.)

Heritage

How to sum it up simply,
the South? I can't.
It's neither the barefoot
cracker stereotype nor
the glorious rebellion
with mint juleps and happy slaves
that never existed.
It's heritage AND hate.
It's front porch swings
and bodies swinging in trees.
It's blackeyed peas and fried okra
from Africa, just like the cooks.
It's hearing my great-uncle
say the blessing at dinner and
then talk about "that nice
old nigger lady at the market".
(He thinks this is a compliment.)
It's two worlds side by side,
intertwined but never shared.
It's change that moves
as slow as the summer air.

That flag is what our ancestors
fought and died for, states' rights
and freedom from tyranny.
That flag is what was waved
in the faces of descendants
of our own tyranny,
our own aggression.
It's our history, our pride.
It's our defeat and our shame.
It's happy Dixieland memories
and white-robed cross-burning terror.
It's our blood-soaked history
come home to roost, and
like good Southerners we will
fry it up and eat it.
luna_virgo: XVIII The Moon, Victoria Regina Tarot (Default)
Loose

Clothes unbound
long hair flowing
like wine I am
easy with my favors
and this offends you
but your abstinence
helps no one
least of all you
you are an angry
ejaculation
waiting to happen
just let go



Lent/Given

Penance is also excess.
Purging is the mirror
of indulgence. Flesh
defines us, defines her,
sinner pouring freely
from her alabaster jar.
Mary so often painted
in a whore's carnival mask
next to virgin's mourning veil,
but she was there willing
to anoint alive or dead.

It's Spring

Wednesday, March 18th, 2015 02:34 am
luna_virgo: XVIII The Moon, Victoria Regina Tarot (Default)
Se Laisser

"the cities we are in love with however
as if with individuals
having a quiddity about them none can reduce to order
"
- Nathaniel Tarn

I hear the jazz siren song
of these rain-slick streets
smelling of garbage and booze,
festooned with stray beads,
each name with its own myth:
Royal, Bourbon, Decatur, Frenchmen.

I walk, endless walking.
So much to see and taste,
colors and music and food
and too little time to absorb
before I return to my
boring box of a life.

The secret to this city
is not to make plans.
Let it soak in and seduce you,
and go
where your feet take you.



Construction

The campus was unfinished.
A field and woods behind
the farthest dorm invited
nocturnal visits for sex or
weed-smoking or the kind of
self-absorbed stargazing that
feels important in college.
We wandered back there
to a building in progress,
just a frame so far.
He smoked a cigarette
in the dark as we leaned against
a beam, and said "I love you".
It felt right, there and then,
christening a new place.

Water again

Friday, February 20th, 2015 02:14 am
luna_virgo: XVIII The Moon, Victoria Regina Tarot (Default)
Ace of Cups VII

Sometimes I think
my whole life can be
reduced to water
and its movements.
My heart murmur,
blood sloshing off rhythm.
The tornado that jumped
over me in '94,
warm updrafts, moist air.
Various leaks, floods,
flows, physical
and otherwise, real,
symbolic. Water,
my bane and my comfort.

Three new ones

Tuesday, February 3rd, 2015 12:15 am
luna_virgo: (Witch)
Banishing

Your pale eyes, icy
like the snow on the mirror
you inhale, manic
glittering with fury
no affection can melt.

Your butch swagger
and smack talk, constantly
stirring your stick,
pointing your finger,
showing your ass.

Whiskey dope devil,
lying smooth and screaming foul,
you will never be welcomed
to my bed or my life
again. Be gone.


Incandescent

Constrained, I feel I'll
spontaneously combust,
sending a shower
of sparks like fireworks
and a brilliant burst of light
as I'm set ablaze.
Ardent, radiant,
consuming myself in a
luminous display.


Adam und Eva (Klimt)

He's an afterthought,
a background shadow,
a reversal of the canon.
She's disarmingly naked,
unashamed, awake
while he sleeps.
Pelts and flowers
frame her ruddy knees,
fair skin with hints of
veins beneath, imperfectly
sublime and aware.

Spring is brewing

Wednesday, January 14th, 2015 12:47 am
luna_virgo: (Witch)
Winter/Cauldron

In the dark months I sleep,
sinking down into myself.
But life will not be denied.
My grandmothers stir
with my hands the old
into the new, blending.
luna_virgo: (Witch)
Spectral

January trees
rise like dark skeletons
from the fog, shrouded
as half-remembered dreams.
The mist is alive
with ghosts and bones
in this dead season.



(In the last two days I've watched Black Swan, Memoirs of a Geisha, and Elizabeth: The Golden Age. This haiku is the result.)

Spectacle

A geisha, painted.
A queen in her finery.
A ballet dancer.

Each acting a role,
precisely costumed, movements
all choreographed.

Each in control yet
rigidly restrained by the
part that must be played.

Two new poems

Tuesday, December 9th, 2014 02:15 am
luna_virgo: Created by sockii, photo by Andy Summers (Lonely and scared)
Stripped & Fried

Here in the parking lot
in my car I sit
eating fried shrimp
from the greasy strip mall
restaurant that was too crowded
and I remember when
this parking lot on this side
of a carved-out hill was a forest
nothing but oak and pine
and I uselessly hate myself
for consuming the past.



Seventeen

I always remember you
running away.
In my mind I picture
you fidgeting, leaning
away as I talk, me
leaning forward, grasping
to keep you still
for once. Never worked.
I was never enough to keep
your attention unless
I spread my legs.
When we met you said
you wanted to corrupt me
and I agreed without
knowing, without understanding
that you really would, and
then you'd run away.
luna_virgo: XVIII The Moon, Victoria Regina Tarot (Default)
Defensive

Battle-scarred and perfumed,
blood and tears flowing
beneath my fair skin,
a lioness under
a soft pelt.
Beware.

Love

Monday, August 25th, 2014 11:58 pm
luna_virgo: XVIII The Moon, Victoria Regina Tarot (Default)
Mama Joyce

Waking up to the smell
of coffee, ham and biscuits,
gospel music on the radio
and your footsteps back and forth
from the kitchen to the table,
I knew I would always be
fed and loved at your house.
Picking peas, hanging laundry,
rocking grandchildren singing
in your strong clear voice,
you were the face and hands
of God's gentleness, the
country haven of my childhood.
luna_virgo: Interview With The Vampire (Kiss)
Bi

I put the jingling copper
around my left ankle.
I dance. I learned
long ago my left leg
is longer, my right leg
stronger. I dance.
It doesn't matter.



Beginning

How we fumbled
freezing our asses
in that cold house
by the light of one candle
before the power was on.
We were determined
that it would happen
that night
we christened our home.

News burnout

Wednesday, August 20th, 2014 04:39 am
luna_virgo: XVIII The Moon, Victoria Regina Tarot (Default)
Human

Watching riots
and war on tv,
I switch channels.
Tornado footage
comforts me.
It's familiar
and impersonal.
No one pulled
a trigger.
They all took cover
together.

Life must go on

Thursday, August 14th, 2014 02:54 am
luna_virgo: Created by sockii, photo by Andy Summers (Lonely and scared)
I wrote this a few months ago, but it seems particularly appropriate after Robin Williams' suicide. I have dealt with depression, anxiety, and panic attacks since I was a teenager. I will probably write a (non-poetry) post on that later, but for now I will just say I have experienced being on the verge of suicide, and though I found reasons to keep going, I can't blame anyone who makes that choice to end their pain.


5/5/14

Spring Prayer

Give me money to throw at
malfunctioning appliances,
fortitude to mourn dead pets,
pick up broken branches,
endure cold salt air, bitter tears,
one-sided infatuations.

Dirt and rot, wet and cold,
sand and sea and wind
are also your gifts.
Teach me to repair, replace, rebuild.
Never let me forget
that green emerges from brown,
that change is always coming.

Hard as it can be,
tether me to this life,
root me in this soil so that
no matter where I roam
I will always know I cannot
escape this body until
I have wrung all the life from it.

More blasphemy

Friday, August 8th, 2014 02:34 am
luna_virgo: XVIII The Moon, Victoria Regina Tarot (Default)
Whore to Madonna

Why are you Mary Mother
of God out of wedlock
hailed as Virgin and I
named the same and just
as devoted called whore?
Why are we made opposite
examples for men knowing
nothing of begetting and birth
nursing a babe and dressing a corpse?
Why are our bodies shamed
for the sake of the spirit?



Hymn

But since we left off to burn incense
to the Queen of Heaven, and to pour out
drink offerings unto Her, we have wanted
all things, and have been consumed
by the sword and by the famine

- Jeremiah 44:18 KJV

Just before sunrise She comes
gleaming clear as the sun.
Just after sunset She comes
glowing fair as the moon.
In Her full glory She is
terrible as an army with banners.
Who is She that looks forth
as a lioness?
Who is this that comes
from wilderness, fierce and naked?
Her love is strong
as death, as the grave.
She is called the Queen of Heaven,
ravisher of hearts.

(Song of Solomon 3:6, 4:9, 6:10, 8:6. Also see Asherah, Astarte, Inanna, Ishtar, and other Near Eastern goddesses.)

A new tangent

Monday, August 4th, 2014 04:24 am
luna_virgo: XVIII The Moon, Victoria Regina Tarot (Default)
Vessel

You have loved much
Mary and for that you've
been called harlot
but that name belongs
to the wives of the rich
not you Mary you poured
your blessings freely
no matter the cost
and drowned those
nagging devils with
the flowing myrrh
of love.



Passion

I let down
my long red hair.
I pour my
precious gifts
at your feet.
I offer myself
to you. Take,
eat, drink.



Possession

What did the devils say, Mary?
That you weren't pure enough,
you slept around,
you were damaged goods,
too worldly, too weak,
too wasteful, too much
like a woman?
And all you wanted
was a man who would
listen, who would gladly
receive your gifts
and bless you for it,
one man who would finally
share your cup.

Waiting and moving on

Saturday, July 26th, 2014 04:58 am
luna_virgo: XVIII The Moon, Victoria Regina Tarot (Default)
Waiting For Rain

In the dark downslope
of the month I brood
moody and swollen like
a storm cloud, cramps
thudding through me like thunder.
I wait for release,
for the floodgates to open
and the tension to be
flushed away.



To The God Of My Childhood

I cannot say
that You don't exist.
Your delusions are
shared by too many.
They make You real.
What I can say,
finally and definitely,
is No. No more.
Take Your sad pettiness,
Your destructive jealousy,
Your hatred of all
that is joyful in life,
and leave me in peace.
You and all that
Your followers stand for
disgust me.
I am shaking
Your dust
from my feet.

Movement and stillness

Saturday, July 26th, 2014 04:40 am
luna_virgo: XVIII The Moon, Victoria Regina Tarot (Default)
Dancer

With serpentine grace
she winds and unwinds
her limbs, flowing
and floating on the music.
She is the song embodied,
each movement a note,
the melody leaping
and swirling in her skirts.



Slow (Four of Cups)

Do not dismiss
the lazy pleasure of
drowsing under the fan
to the sound of drizzle.
Follow the cat's example,
stretching languidly,
letting the delicious
heaviness settle
on your limbs and eyes.
The world will wait.
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