“Thelxiepeia” will be available sometime in the next few days, I finished it early. Of course I’ll post up a link when it is available, as well as a table of contents and previously published poems. The poems in this collection were written between 2009 and 2012. Every grouping of poems that I’ve composed thus far, has a theme running through it, something of the qualities of the time in my life during which they were written. I cannot speak to the personal experience of anyone other than myself, so I can’t say what it is for any other woman to be a woman during the different stages of her life, but there was a real battling of bitterness going on for me during that time of my life, I was having to fight for every little thing every day it seemed, some serious heartbreak happening, met with not a little deadpan sarcasm here and there. I would venture a guess that most people go through times where they’ve lost something of their sense of wonder. But there’s something beautiful to be found in that as well, because that feeling returns, however changed. There are some harsh things in these poems, or some might say, cold. I was engaged in no self-censorship during the writing of these works. I think it is good work. It is, however, a time in my life that I am glad to have behind me, I am glad to be done working on this book! Oh, yes indeed! When I look at these poems, what I see are the beginning years of a maturation into owning my experiences as a woman.
I hope you’ll check out the complete selection of poems when it is available.
“Dirty Knees” is a poem addressing disillusionment, with not a few pop-culture references, as there are in several poems in this book.
Where is the sin solution,
to this problem of attrition,
to this guilty by suspicion,
intonations and the rhythm,
of a heartbeat out of sync?
Ripped open, take a drink,
see if that elixir quells
While drowning in some novel,
I Dream of Jeannie in a hovel,
because she’d be better off someplace where
she could at least get laid,
for all the trouble that she went to,
for all the changes she done been through,
for the costumes she paraded,
Put the pillow on the floor,
You be the King and I’ll be more,
than anything we ever thought this was.
Problem is, you know the feeling,
deep and so revealing
cutting through the bone and artifice
of each disguise,
I say Batman take your mask off,
like the Bandit takes his hat off,
And I’ll need that paperclip,
It’s a surprise.
Sarah Conner in the turnstile,
Said you knew this could take a while,
Isn’t that how escapes are compromised?
Well, it really doesn’t matter,
I’ll just use my witty banter,
To distraction from the thorns on every vine.
I’ll wash my guilt in your subconscious,
Watch the lover’s bloody petals bloom and
It’d be so much easier,
if you’d just put your hand in mine.
Our fingerprints won’t match
when they get to all the dusting
and the director calls an end
to this here scene.
Mine will look like yours,
and vice versa selling cures,
to all the popular kids
in front of the gas station on the corner
across the street.
So you get yours
and I’ll be there,
because I know you always share,
with the girl who doesn’t care,
about the flowers in her hair,
or her knees covered with dirt.
You know how to fix the hurt,
I’ll just lift up my skirt,
and we’ll be free,
from all the promises they made us,
at the movies in the slipstream,
in the middle of the best dream,
when and where,
I know you’re there,
always my hero in real life,
and as seen on t.v.