The Writings of a Black Madonna Isis on Canvas

Bulging frog

you have eyes

that make glassblowers

have nightmares;

Cricking cricket

trumpeter of moles

We lose hours of sleep

counting sheep;

Golden bee

winged backbone of threads

to gather up sexy pollen

like a stripper on a pole;

Native nature

woven threads in construction

for untold excitement

the future is old.

Tapestry mingling to form upon the head of a moth brown

with it’s headdress  stuffed like a cow

shot in the dead of winter by a rifleman

Attempting to shoot the Prime Minister;

I said to Lucy “Did you hear that sound?”

“Sound can be appreciated sometimes.” She said

and ate a beetle bug but only the head.

Supreme powers flow from neutron stars;

as she gulped and bate her attempt at compassion.

The forces of nature will bury you whole.

I attempted to reassign myself to another planet.

We could always whimsical when we were young.

Too bad the Scorpio’s moon is still and full.

If it were of cheese there’d be a festoon or maybe,

Perhaps a plentiful sense of self worth?

Wait with me while I weep. For sadness is my confidant, and being alive is unique. Sing with me in my loneliness, solace my defeats. Take with you what I give you but never ask me to repeat. For the spiderwebs of solace are renounced to me.  I desire flowers in my tea, and dirt in my sheets. You tap dance and tip toe but never really rest.  I see you when I’m wilted, amongst the garden phloem.  Carry my broken roots in your teeth when you eat rose.  Tend to my heart strings as they are always strung up, on branches made of motioning to turn around the world.  Deepening is my desire now, awakened is my mind.  I free thee from myself with a swift, unbroken twine.  Twisting deep into my neck, it makes a little scar, and thank you for my unpleasantries while I wilted in your yard.

BLANK SLATE I READ YOU

I READ YOU LIKE I WROTE YOU

BUT THE BOARD IS BLANK

THE MIND IS BLANK

OR IS IT REALLY BLACK?

WITH EVERY CAREENING PHOTON

THE COLOR BLACK HAS BEEN DISCOURSED

IT’S BEEN TORN APART AND GIVEN MERCY

AND BECAME A FORMAL HEARSE

TO BRING US TO OUR CATACOMBS

OF BIASED THOUGHTS AND HURTS

WHEN A COLOR ON A PERSON

IS OFTEN THOUGHT AS WORSE

BUT WITH NIGHT COMES DREAMS

AND SLEEPS AND OTHER THINGS

TO BRING YOU YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE

A KLAN WITHOUT A KIN

YET WE THINK OUR BRAINS ARE DROWNING;

CAN’T TURN RIGHT TO WRONG AGAIN

WE MURDER IN MASSES

BLINKING WATERY-EYED DEATH UNDRAINED.

ON THE TREES OF FORBEARING

SAPPY CREATURES BREED

THEY’RE SUSTAINED ON OUR BAD FEELINGS

AND GROW HUNGRIER FROM WITHIN

FEED YOUR INNER DEMONS

WITH POISONS OF UNKNOWN DREAD

I TAKE TO YOU MY HUMBLED,

SWEET SIN OF A GRIN

BELIEVE IT WHEN I SAY

WHEN YOU DIE YOU BREAK INTO CLAY

UNANSWERED QUESTIONS ARE ALWAYS

ON DISPLAY.

EIGHT LEGS ARE SPINNING

HIGH INTO THE OLIVE BRANCHES

TURN OFF EXTINGUISH, BLAME ME

FOR DOING

THE THINGS YOU KNOW

YOU’VE ALWAYS WANTED TO

TURN THE LEGGED CREATURE

INTO A MARTYR

BURY IT’S REMNANTS IN THE TOWNS CHARTER

AND CRY WHEN THE CHILDREN YOU

TOOK TURN TO YOU TO HURT

AND TEAR YOUR LEGS ASUNDER

EIGHT LEGGED WONDER

YOU CARRY YOUR PACKAGE

LIKE YOU WILL BE TRAVELING

FAR INTO THE THUNDER

BUT INTO THE DARKNESS

YOUR NAME WILL REMAIN

BUT YOUR PURPOSE

IS MORE VALIANT THAN VAIN

SO BRING YOUR LEGGY BABIES

AND YOUR WIGGLING BAGS

TO AND FRO YOU GO

AND WITH EACH BREATHY NAME

YOU GIVE TO THEM BY THE THOUSANDS

YOUR BROOD OF MILLION LEGS

THEY WILL COME BACK IN NUMBERS

AND STEAL WHAT YOU HAVE GAINED

YOU PIECE OF CRUMBCAKE!!

POUR SOME COFFEE ON IT DOUSE THE FIRE FLAMES

ORANGE MARMALADE
ON WOUNDS

WILL HEAL IT’S CRYING NAME

TO EAT ITS BRAINS

ARE TO EAT CALORIES
OF INTENSE HEAT

END POEM