IV’E GOT TOMBSTONE IN MY MATTRESS (POETRY W/ AUDIO)

https://soundcloud.com/mentalnotes-1/TOMBSTONE IN MY MATTRESS-on-monday-1

I got Tombstones in my Mattress 

Waiting for the next certain death

To join this grave site of men and women I have yet met

I deem it over before it begins

And I mourn these relationships

Over

And over again

I got Tombstones in my Mattress

And I practice pretending they aren’t their

Pot holes and traps for all who enter these tomb filled snares

I got ash cans and grey post

That line the belly of this seam

I got construction going on

In the trinkets of my dreams

 

In the pit of my Mattress

I call it the dead zone

There building a fortress

And fences

Calling it their home

And they aint even paying rent

I evicted two tenants

And  could care less where they went

 

I’ve got Tombstones in my Mattress

And I’m prepared to burn this dwelling place

Can’t sleep at night

Without these men staring in my face

See these tombstone have been accumulated for over twenty long  years

And there comfortable in my bed

Playing spade and swallowing down imported beers

See, I’m not sad

Depressed

Or angry

I just want these men gone

They’ve been sleeping in my bed with me for twenty years too long

I got diamonds hidden in these dirt filled tombs

Being smothered by dandelions and oversized poisoned mushrooms

My bed has become crowded

And the only person I’m angry at is me

Because I have allowed these men to literally enslave me

I got souls that I desperately need to set free

I keep these memories alive and I hate the reflection I see

I got construction workers knocking walls down building rooms to be filled

While I’m shoveling dirt working hard to empty this dirt filled mill

Gatekeepers come from nowhere, hired in this dark ground of doom

I’ve invited men in to fill these empty tombs

I cannot stand being cramped up in my own bed

I demised a portal

To people who has long time been dead

They are decomposed

It’s God awful that there locked in a trench

I’m not sure how much longer I can tolerate this awful stench

Every tombstone has a different face

And a different name

But they’re not much different at all

Really their all the same

There was mark who sexed me

And Todd who rejected me

There was Troy that used me

And Nyla who soothed me

And him who raped me

And daddy who hates me, the one who shaped me

Demetrius escaped me

The one who beat me and the one who cheated on me

The one I slept with in the name of love

And the one I kept around as company

Just because

How can I forget the one who stays trapped in my head

I got all these people living in my bed

So excuse me if my thoughts are on a constant blink

It’s been a long time since I got a good night’s sleep

I am on the brink of

Some evictions

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LIFE RAFT (POETRY)

He asked me to

And I declined

Because the universe had given me a spiritual sign

However

Later on I agreed

And entered myself into a dirty deed

Filled with tentacles and rotten weeds

I will listen the next time the universe gives me a sign

When it tries to save my stubborn behind

FEATURE (GAUDENZIA HOUSE PHILOSAPHY)

We are here because there is no refuge

Finally, from ourselves

Until people confront themselves in the eyes and hearts of others

They are running

Until they suffer others to share their secrets

They have no safety from them

Afraid to be known

They can know neither themselves nor any other

They will be alone!
Where else but in our common ground can we find such a mirror

Here, together, people can at last appear clearly to themselves

Not as the giant of their dreams,

Nor the dwarfs of their fears

But as individuals

Part of a whole

With a share in its purpose
In this ground we can each take root and grow

Not alone anymore as in death

But alive to ourselves and to others

MASK (POETRY)

I carried the weight in my beautifully poised face

And happiness arrived a few days to late

Hard for me to harbor this hate

And still hold on

To

This beautifully poised face

PIXIE (POETRY)

It was a demon!

A CURSE FROM THE BEGINNING

BECAUSE ADAM WAS AFRAID TO TAKE THE LEAD

AND GOT EVE TO DO HIS DIRTY DEED

Sent to terrorize this empty room

She hates me and berates me

At least that’s what I presume

I’ve even given this thing a name

Because she has her own personality

 Pixie

Sadly she’s part of my reality

Their like monsters that dance around in strange little groups

Dropping coal minds on my womb

Marching fiercely like military troops

In my mind strange things happen and I am forced to assume

As Pixie dances harder

Between my bloody womb

In five days she’ll be gone

And I’ll be left cleaning up her mess

Because I’m normally prompted to be mean and nasty

Under Pixie’s cramped up stress

I need to give my belly some much needed rest

Trying desperately to hide next month

From Pixie’s curse called

PMS

I WELCOME ALL SPELLCHECKERS (GIGGLES)

THE OTHER ME (POETRY)

I waited for her to walk in the door

With her ghetto diction

She was my affliction

My addiction

And the reason why I was stricken and sickened

And plagued by her rage that went way beyond adult age

I gave her the keys and offered her other things

That was dear to me

And taunted the other me

I was tempted to walk away

But I played the fool and stayed

Another day

And another

And another

And I was wrong because I stayed way to long

I was fighting with the knot that gripped my soul

And I knew she was the reason I was old and alone

No one ever told me it would be like this

Once I kissed her majestic lips

Frozen in a matrix of denial

And still

WAITING

ON

HER

STREET GIRL (FEATURE POET/ BONNIE PARKER)

BONNIE & CLYDE, BONNIE  WAS AN AWSOME POET

       
You don’t want to marry me honey
Though just to hear you ask me is sweet
If you did you’d regret it tomorrow
For I’m only a girl of the street
There was a time when I’d gladly have listened
Before I was tainted with shame
But it wouldn’t be fair to you honey
Men laugh when they mention my name
Back there on the farm in Nebraska
I might have said yes to you then
But I thought the world was a playground
Just teeming with Santa Claus men
So I left the old home for the city
To play in its mad, dirty whirl
Never knowing how little of pity, It holds for a slip of a girl
You think I’m still good-looking honey!
But no I am faded and spent
Even Helen of Troy would look seedy
If she followed the pace I went
But that day I came in from the country
With my hair down my back in a curl
Through the length and the breadth of the city
There was never a prettier girl.
I soon got a job in the chorus
With nothing but looks and a form
I had a new man every evening
And my kisses were thrilling and warm
I might have sold them for a fortune
To some old sugar daddy with dough
But youth called to youth for its lover
There was plenty that I didn’t know
Then I fell for the “line” of a “junker”
A slim devotee of hope,
And those dreams in the juice of a poppy
Had got me before I could stop.
But I didn’t care while he loved me
Just to lie in his arms was a delight
But his ardour grew cold and he left me
In a Chinatown “hop-joint” one night.
Well I didn’t care then what happened
A Chink took me under his wing
And down there in a hovel of hell
I laboured for Hop and Ah-Sing
Oh no I’m no longer a “Junker”
The police came and got me one day
And I took the one cure that is certain
That island out there in the bay
Don’t spring that old gag of reforming
A girl hardly ever goes back
Too many are eager and waiting
To guide her feet off of the track
A man can break every commandment
And the world will still lend him a hand
Yet a girl that has loved, but un-wisely
Is an outcast all over the land.
You see how it is don’t you honey
I’d marry you now if I could
I’d go with you back to the country
But I know it won’t do any good
For I’m only a poor branded woman
And I can’t get away from the past
Good-bye and God bless you for asking
But I’ll stick out now till the last

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