Today I will meet this beautiful man!!
Georgia O’Keeffe- Pink Moon and Blue Lines 1923
Rosy View
Something were going on, as though it were,
a secret kept between the sheets,
a line in linen was drawn,
and still you played with temptation.
After he left your bed,
your desire grew stronger,
that which was now untouchable.
The touch you expected to linger,
like the sent which stained
your clothes.
A stroll through the heated
desert, a pleading cry of thirst,
attributed to the addiction
of the heated passion,
which burns.
As the urge grows stronger,
you see the mirage,
faint.
And still you follow,
the feeling of a free -
falling love.
Only to notice the
infatuation dissolve,
as you see the vision of his eyes
watching from above,
unravel from the dusty rose
curtain dancing in the
breeze.
Cristina Barbaresi
WITCHGRASS
Something
comes into the world unwelcome
calling disorder,disorder—
If you hate me so much
don’t bother to give me
a name: do you need
one more slur
in your language, another
way to blame
one tribe for everything—
as we both know,
if you worship
one god, you only need
one enemy—
I’m no the enemy.
Only a ruse to ignore
what you see happening
right here in this bed,
a little paradigm
of failure. One of your precious flowers
dies here almost every day
and you can’t rest until
you attack the cause, meaning
whatever is left, whatever
happens to be sturdier
than you personal passion—
It was not meant
to last forever in the real world.
But why admit that, when you can go on
doing what you always do,
mourning and laying blame,
always the two together.
I don’t need your praise
to survive. I was here first,
before you were here, before
you planted a garden.
And I’ll be here when only the sun and moon
are left, and the sea, and the wide field.
I will constitute the field.
- Louise Gluck
MATINS
Unreachable father, when we were first
exiled from heaven, you made
a replica, a place in one sense
different from heaven, being
designed to teach a lesson: otherwise
the same — beauty on either side, beauty
without alternative— Except
we didn’t know what was the lesson. Left alone,
we exhausted each other. Years
of darkness followed; we took turns
filling our eyes as earth
misted with petals, some
dark red, some flesh colored—
We never thought of you
whom we were learning to worship.
We merely knew it wasn’t human nature to love
only what returns love.
- Louise Gluck
Rhino
Bad ass of the Savanna
lion’s ain’t got shit on me.
But like every organism i have a soft side.
And on the hot days, when weak bugs
seek refuge on my underside
That heat raises my temper like
mercury encased in glass
giving me my demeanor
tough skinned, and rough
to the touch, singled out for my horn
the mark for poachers, a word that makes my knees weak
Do they know what’s behind the deep dark brown eyes they’re shooting between?
- Cristina Barbaresi
Anonymous asked: his attempt at being different leads him to the edge of the box.
What does the box symbolize? anything?
like step outside the box???
03.29.2011
Father said it as he watched
me tie my own shoe for the first
time. Stern
and strict,
one way mindset thats how
that asshole worked,
but he also works by
betrayl,
What is the purpose?
Spending money we don’t have
on trinkets that get destroyed.
I see trucks everyday, why do I need
my own to play with? Slapping
my mother around, because
of the stress. You could
have saved us from this
heartache.
Saved me from knowing adults lie,
teaching me how to lie.
Keep your head straight, don’t
shift your sholders. Intonation is
important to maintain.
Someday I’ll come home,
drink a six pack and smack
my wife around too.
Fate is a lie, and if
it weren’t
I’d still be fucked.
- Cristina Barbaresi
Things I could NEVER tell my mother.
I can only imagine her expression
with her privy to the memories from the night
Dick and I guzzled champagne.
The same night where he rested my
perplexed mind.
how would his nectar taste?
That was the night I gave him my only orchid.
The night he pulled the petals
from that gentle flower
one
by
one
leaving a trail to the room
that would change us.
One caesura before the cataclysmic event.
Giving us the moment to treasure,
just short enough
to prevent implosion.
And now the egg has
been hatched, (and scrapped away).
Every night I dream of the
day that egg would have also entered a
cacoon
with a bulging caterpillar
and emerge into a broken butterfly.
- Cristina Barbaresi
