Tag Archives: stripped

stripped… final product

a poem a day for National Poetry Month, a VERY personal piece from 10/9/2010

 

To see the progression of the poem I am going to present go to stripped… [updated], I have finally finished this piece.  It was incredibly hard to write, but I needed to get it out, the same way I thankfully (and quickly) got out of the subject matter.  Sometimes long repressed skeletons in closets have a way of forcing the pen.  Tricky little bastards.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and I will be toiling away to memorize it so you may see it on a stage near you.  That kind of stage activity is way better than the long ago alternative.

 

Scarlet Letter A

you don't have to wear it...

 

 

we have fucked without guilt
without enjoyment
with pain and pleasure
….and of course
with regrets.

the bruises of men’s kisses has stained our skin
like red Kool-Aid
hand-prints etching a scarlet A on our dermis
to match the scars on our hearts

fucking is something that has guided us gently to that stage
in ghastly makeup
a calculated touch
looking straight through us like the clear heels
that make us stand tall as trees
but the fruit is rotten
fermenting to intoxicate us
so we can even stand this.

lascivious glares
blocked our growth as humans
turned us in reverse
so the longer we stayed in the biz
the faster we wanted to regress into babies
crying in our mother’s arms.
With futile wishes for a return to innocence.
Hoping to return to the arms of mother’s who hate us now
because they see their failure in our eyes
looking for non existent validation
leaning on imaginary shoulders
wondering why we hit the ground each time
well it’s hard to see reality through blackened third eyes
swollen from life’s hard knocks

so we continue to stumble blindly through this maze
littered with deferred dreams and potential
going in circles…
around hope.
around greatness.
around poles.

Sliding down them
But this ain’t no firehouse
but there damn sure is an emergency
in this smoky club
because where there is smoke there is fire
and the burning of dignity is a 5-alarmer
but no one is rushing to save us
just to pay us
for our priceless goods.

stripped… [updated]

A snippet of a much longer very personal piece I am working on…   feedback is appreciated…. [originally posted 9-21-10 will continue updating until “finished.” Bold lines are the latest updates]

stripped bare....

we have fucked without guilt

without enjoyment

with pain and pleasure

….and of course

the regrets.

the bruises of men’s kisses has stained our skin

like red Kool-Aid

fucking is something that has guided us gently to that stage

in ghastly makeup

a calculated touch

lascivious glares

blocked our growth as humans

turned us in reverse

so the longer we stayed in the biz

the faster we wanted to regress into babies

crying in our mother’s arms.

futile wishes for a return to innocence.

return to the arms of mother’s who hate us now

because they see their failure in our eyes

looking for non existent validation

leaning on imaginary shoulders

wondering why we hit the ground each time

well it’s hard to see reality through blackened third eyes

swollen from life’s hard knocks

so we continue to stumble blindly through this maze

littered with deferred dreams and potential

going in circles…

around hope.

around greatness.

around poles.