hazecitron

call me
sometime
Adam in
the garden
of midsummer eve
today
just wanted to feel
that round plastic on
my hips one more time
droppin' tears
droppin' seeds
suntime, this is it
when I'm
most alive
keep dancin'
to throw
'em off but
gotta cry
as soon as
I'm alone
afraid to get cut
open again
I told 'em
to take it out
what the fuck else
could anyone want
I cannot
I brushed my hair
today in the mirror
in my bra
and underwear
wet dreams
reminded of a time
in high school
young
doing my hair
makeup
kilt to my knees
multicoloured
ribbony scrunchies
blue and green
eyeshadows imagining
to myself
someday I'll be older
grown out
pretty
have a boyfriend
a motorcycle
it's funny
better in some ways
freedom is how
you perceive
your life
I can blend
disappear
I know
stay strong
but damn
five surgeries in
and hey
I got this
kinda don't
shaking
I'll dance one more time
and I'll cry

how ya feel?
how ya feel?

Advertisements

lakelaps

got the blues 

but the blues ain’t got me 

naked, open window 

curtainless

let ’em see

need some time 

away 

when I watch the ferry 

depart and arrive

arrive and depart 

I can predict 

this is going 

nowhere fast 

I tell myself

violent beginnings

have violent ends 

but damn 

these tepid waters 

can hardly make a 

splash 

on dirty needs

deepdreams

go before 

go before the curtains close 

distance pedalled 

flame fading

like a sodden cigarette 

never underestimate 

the voices in your 

gut

what made you say what

choices 

playd8

smile bright 

god is sunshine

melting laughter

out the gutter 

something right 

weak hands 

kisses, hugs

keeping straight faced

getting high 

rolling circles 

round my cuboid 

you’re not a big drinker 

and I get so serious 

don’t know what time it was 

lookin’ so perfect 

high hopes

though there’s fire 

burning in the distance 

forever after 

doesn’t exist 

groovy 

baby spin it 

forget 

like the first time 

like the last time 

right now 

right now we got sunshine 

god is light reflecting

off your eyes 

The maze of me

rippling
throwing stones into an ocean
searching for the wander
that has been me

the twisting butterfly
can’t go back
once cocooning is complete
welling waves
get me every time
why can’t we stay
with the water
the sweet milky place
carving at the story
over and over
she teaches me
to love the act of letting go
it makes the sunset everbright
it makes tomorrow
less dark, less scary
I could stand beneath
volcanoes I’ve imagined
learn to harness
the intimate energies
working within my body
soft, strong
finding peace in distant callings
in the words between
long silences and longings

drifting
in that sweet soulspace,
pulling guidance from
the maze of me

Wicked Game

I am on my hands and knees.
Bending at the heart of me.

Stop to catch a shattered inhale
Can’t get it inside
Of me fast enough.
Crisp, clean air.
I looked back and
I shouldn’t have.
The sweet smell
Of salt and trees, standing
At the edge of the ocean.
Dancing for the waves.
I drift.
The best parts of me, come
Out when everything else
Has been let go.
Keep running.
Slip into the abyss,
Of where is she now.
Who knows.

Hiding in the midnight of my soul.

The Headland of the Eastport Peninsula at Salvage, September 19, 1986

 

You’re the Treasure

I’ll make a living, trying to get away
10,000 phantoms, I’ll turn the tide away
It can never pull me away
No way!
Under water
Time is standing still
You’re the treasure
Dive down deeper

LISTEN

When I was a little girl, I remember spinning around on the playground alone. I liked to just wisp away in circles until my head got dizzy and light and I’d fall right over. I would sit in the dirt, hands filled with soil, digging up ants and letting them crawl around on my fingers. I liked how they would always keep on marching, their bobbling little globey bodies busily moving about, always somewhere to go. I’d pull the balls of their torso apart, watching the honey-like goo drip in the middle, eating it.

I was always afraid of spiders. Whirling and twirling one day, the blur of life hurling itself around me making me stumble, regaining focus on my prepubescent chest I saw Her there. Mother Spider, the one cleverly nicknamed Daddy Longlegs, I lost my breath, spinning faster. Too afraid to touch her with my hands, I hoped she would fall away if I just swirled a little harder.

I would cry whenever I saw spiders after that, begging my daddy to come and kill them. I was afraid of Her mystery, Her power. How quietly she spins her web, waiting, connecting, preying. Her all-seeing eyes, her prowess. We’re afraid of what we can’t accept in ourselves. I stopped accepting my divine femininity at a very young age.

I’ll allow Her to introduce Herself, the Lady of many names, she goes by Indra, Lila, Ma, Gaia. The wild nubile girl, the bearing yet forceful mother, the old crone. I’ve known since a very young age, that God couldn’t just be a big man in the sky. He and She must come together. And He and She may just exist in me.

We used to play another game when I was in grade school, we’d press our palms on each others necks, up against walls until we passed out. It would feel like hours, days, off in that dreamy-space, but it would only be seconds. I’d see whales along unpredicted shores and Looney Tunes characters asking me to dance more. Then I’d be back.

Sometimes falling in love is kind of like that,

Ain’t it Jack?