Original Land and Mother

mother
the skies are soft
clear
and drifting through the valley
where I grew to my womanhood
in your knowing ways
by those golden fields
along the winding road

I am still that girl
with the long tangled hair
of our tradition
and chubby thighs
running through the dusty field
following that white dog
to the fence line horizon

the fat grass hoppers jumping at my feet
as the golden grass parts before my legs
the creek in its green belt
parting the dry and cracked land
babbling a little song behind me
as I run to the stones left as glacier marking posts
to the formation of these grazing hills

mother
your crooked smile is calling me to the kitchen
the skies open as birds leap to air
and the ghosts of dark haired children
laugh in the distance
I am racing down to the barn long collapsed
my jeans covered in dirt
and my fingers clasping delicate wild daisies
painting the fields in spots of white

in that place I grew
in that log cabin I watched your hands knead the bread
with a strength I longed to have
the yellow bowl of many years
catching up the flour for the days events
and the corn grew by the window
as you chased the bears from your fruit trees
the big truck lumbering to life
the wood pile defeated for the day
and my brothers' dirty work boots
tracking up your clean floor

mother
now I have grown
my femaleness slipping red between my legs
I have my own home
in a city by the sea
grey and dull in these diffused skies
where the rain turns the dirt to mud
and everything is green
singing a sweet cedar song
to the ocean tumbling down to the bay
I have seen the city rise up and swallow the sky
in glass and steel
I have seen men dieing in the streets
their hands out before them
and their eyes gone for the haze
here the wild animals hunt for garbage
and the grasshoppers drown in puddles

my feral joy is in those hills still
and I pray it dwell in my heart tonight
mother
I have found in my age that this original land
has burrowed deep down into my skin
and I am remembering
you crouched down in the garden
talking to your tomato plants
and me
ready to be alive
in the slow golden moment
of those cloudless skies

The Strange Days of My Affection

my arms ache
and this softness inside of me
for you
is bringing down the city around me
but we are not in love

you tell me

we are not in love

your fingerprints are still in my pillowcases
but I have no distance on me
no time in your departure
and you can see my despairing eyes
can feel the slippery twists in my mind
can taste when the air shimmers around me

you have found me out for what I am
buried under this nest of warm quilts
singing my grandmother's song
and longing for the swaying pines of my home
my mother's lopsided smile
calling me to the kitchen

but you have never seen where I came from
know only a passing story
you wonder what made me this way
and have seen no history beyond my collapsing walls
beyond this city's dilution of my flesh
have not seen me running through dusty fields
where my love was born
and my figure slowly shaped in the hands of a Northern maiden
with cloudless skies dipping the sun behind the hills

in this bedroom
in this city
with its dampened airs
and greying towers
you have found me
my hair spread over the bed
and my skin relenting to your touch
my heart affected by your clear eyes
your words slowly dancing in my ear
in these strange days of my affection
I ache
and I do not come up for air
the skies split
and sing their darkened wet song
to my swaying hands
in this mingling too full of your sweetened voice

but we are not in love

your hand is not in mine
and when I wake to the blackened night
whispering my name through the window pane
and I shiver to the thought
of cedar trees
calling me to the shore
I am alone

and I am not in love

Judith

even if the third time he betrays me
I am still devote to flesh
and whisper prayers in skin

he has no arms
and I have no heart
through our eyes
galaxies explode and form
in subtle fringed blinks

with messiah hands
I cradle organs
for I am the organ grinder
and spit his name
in acrid dust
which jumps to life
to march to the standing gate

he tells me to lay still
to accept the offering
of the burden
of my sex

us who stumbled
and opened the box
misery tapping at our ribs
covering our thighs in slick blood

he betrays me
offers me to saints
unhinges his jaws
to swallow the right whole

he has cursed my serpent lovers
wrecked havoc on my head
plucked the strings where my heart should have been
and crushed my hands with a rock

in a booming voice
he tells love to enter slavery
cripples me at the dawn
hangs me from the highest crooked tree
for all the glassy denizens to see

ruthless is my tongue
across the expanding times
I have lived one thousand lives
in the burning moonlight
and howled through pointed teeth

I am mother to monsters
and at his touch
I am born the evil of existence
at his betrayal I am snarling
and snapping
at soft hands that grip me

I have a mouth full of tiger-striped moths
eyes brimming with black salt
and hands twisted around a lost promise
in betrayal I am open
a rushing fracture in the world
calmly I crack all the doors
and bare my breast in the name of storms

he needed me
dipped his fingers into my flesh
twisted me
sang my tapping little song
and stole my innocence
in his image
I am reborn in demonic sugar
and have called all the world
to my now crippling song

for I have seen the Truth
and know its taste
as bitter as unripe pomegranates
and twice as vile
as sacred wine

Lustre

such starved hands
kneading the flesh at my breast
digging digits down as far as the skin would allow
when I pried the fingers away
little half moons were left in angry red

you never saw the aftermath
did not see the swaying
when I slumped against the wall
and felt the air go out of my lungs
the fight go out of my mind

angry half moons stared at me
waiting for the telephone to ring
for a voice that had moved on in a snap
my own hands jumping
and all the lustre gone from the stars

I washed my hair
felt the water swallow up my slipping
slept in shallow fits
and roamed the room like a wraith
startling myself in the mirror

'your eyes are so sad'
I think you meant hollow and burdened
seeming as there was a rupture in the closing distance
shimmering under my skin
and I saw the drips of another life

I felt the ghosts of kisses on my lips
signatures of your hasty love
and even quicker departure
the door slammed
and my hair came lose over the world's edge

to the gate I have spoken
and he tells me I am a burden, girl
he says there is red where my feet should be touching grass
I have no distance on me
caught you in little edges of happiness with my teeth
too sharp to love

I am as slick as stones
alight in tall grass but unwinded
frost-covered in dawn's chilly arms
and now nature to all emotions
too much for one man

I am blight in the wind
a heavy touch upon your cheek
all out of feeling and forgetting
and down by the alley way
I see the cats darting through the weeds

my hands are all ember
leaving heated trails of fevered disaster
down the crook of your neck
in the amber sun
I am one burning smile away from the end

I twist my fingers and can tell you your future
I can tell you what you felt yesterday
and tomorrow I will be shadowing my dreams
finding my colour lustrously dead
and flying furiously on into a gloriously red dawn
without you tied around my neck

River Man

I lean my head against the cool glass of the window,
and listen to the storm attempt to tear the city apart.
I spent the night dreaming of hurricanes,
with your name written upon them.

I feel the weight of the gray skies,
pushing down on my head like an invisible hand;
lightening tapping at my mind,
and saying your name over and over again.
I am drowning in the weight of my own convictions,
as the rivers and oceans rise to meet the land in a torrential kiss.

And for your wet kiss, River Man;
I would drop flowers of orange and gold into thick waters,
to watch them drown.
I would dive my hands into relenting dark muds,
and come up dirty for your taste.
I would turn my face up to an angry sky,
let the driving rain pelt my skin until it was a chilly pink.
I would drown in increments,
just to force my eyes open under water,
and glimpse your filmy half-light face.
Just to let your kiss,
so wet,
fill my lungs.

There are messages I have filled bottles with,
tossed them from the bridge.
Your name on each scrap of paper,
floating from my shore to your shore.
River Man, you are all shores.

A slow *slip-slop-drip* dripping on the floor.
A kiss like fighting;
fighting for air, for breath, for meaning, for reason.
River Man, you are dripping on my floor.
A shiny voice chittering in the back of my head,
"Should I ever trust such a rushing voice?
Should I ever trust wet blue eyes?"
And your eyes are the bluest.
A thousand years of erosion,
worn down to the bluest depths.
So clear,
River Man,
I can see through to the ocean,
just behind your furrowed brow.

I can see purple star fish against your illuminate skin,
wet algae on your tongue.
You taste of pure salt and clean water,
I can feel you breaking out of your banks,
ripping down the dams that keep you from me.
The rain is singing to me.
Singing in sweet dulcimer tones,
all blue and green.
Tipping and tapping against the window;
Little rivers running down the walk.
Little wet fingers running down the glass.
The rain holds your name for me,
and whispers your secrets,
into each damp night.

O River Man,
I have nestled into these little worn pebbles,
in vibrant colours under cool clear water.
I am cradled by your cold hands,
in this deep pool of green and golds,
as little fish swim against my thighs.
River Man,
I have met the fishing snake,
and he winks his eyes at me,
from the whistling bull rushes,
and sings his little hypnotic song.
The bright green frogs are crooning,
and the skipper beetle knows my name.

River Man,
take my body and flow.
We are now only drips and drops,
we are in the mouths of fish.
We are singing a babble of bluest eyes,
and loving over water falls.
We are a hurricane,
we are calm water.
We are a sailor's delight.
We are forever lovers gone to sea,
and our names are on the damp wind.
We are the slow dripping of kissing,
and we know the depths,
of every river's heart.
We turn our eyes to the sea,
and sleep in tidal pools,
just out of the sun's reach.

River Man,
give me your name,
and we will flow,
forever green
and forever blue.
With the little fish,
caught in our ebbing tides;
And just me,
and just you.