poetry

Invocation for the lonely

O Muse

Appear unto me

I’m lost in the dark of my mind and can’t see

With so many things

Tales to tell, songs to sing

The noise of the world is too loud

Dear Muse

Please stay for a while

I’ll keep working hard if you’ll give me a smile

I have these ideas

Lots of good ones, so please

Can you just turn the volume down?

Sweet Muse

Would you like a drink?

Can I get you anything? I’ll let you think

Just get comfortable

Keep your cup nice and full

Good to have you, just relax now

My Muse

Shall we watch a film?

I’m writing of horror, let’s watch something grim

Where are you going?

Ideas are not flowing

It’s your job, I need you around

Hey, Muse!

Don’t leave me alone

This is why I called you, to keep you at home

Giving up on me?

Then I’ll just set you free

Good luck finding work in this town!

Psh, Muse

Who even needs her?

I can do this work myself, I’m fairly sure

I’ll get along fine

Without her in my mind

No matter where my words are found

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poetry

Name

I.

Being given a name is so inconsiderate

I didn’t ask for life, nor this

designation

One word

or two or three

How can you say it’s “me”

There will always be

a disconnect between “giver” and “receipt”

Parents, proud of their accomplishment

bestow gifts that might not fit

While “Jessica” means “to behold”

I’m not attached to it

“Elizabeth” claims royalty

“My god is abundance”, it cries

Regardless of where responsibility for my creation lies

I can’t continue bearing this inaccurate guise

II.

All my years I’ve admired the beautiful snake

simple and perfect in design and in charm

Able to be cared for and adored

And able still to harm

I learned there were snake people

wise and beautiful and rare

Ruling ornate cities covered in jewels

with glittering crowns in their hair

Sensuous

sinuous

this, I wanted to be

So tied by AFAB* lines, from their queens I chose the name Nagi

III.

Years gone slowly by and I came to realize

that I wasn’t a woman at all

And I suddenly needed a new, better name

to help me get up and stand tall

Eager to please, I chose one with a “J”

to ease the transition for those around me

Always considering others,

before thinking of my own needs…

But “Jude” it was, still is and ’twill be

On account of its deep importance to me

The Beatles, a saint,

betrayal

forgiveness

Inner security is my first order of business

The curated badges by which I’ll be known,

have carried me comfortably to this throne

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poetry

Upswing

my car smells like summer

manic excitement and bad habits

barefoot commune with slinky new-comers

shy lizards darting through the garden lattice

.

manic excitement and bad habits

Swisher smoke and exhausted slumber

shy lizards darting through the garden lattice

my car smells like summer

.

Swisher smoke and exhausted slumber

there’s a headache behind my eyes

my car smells like summer

and I’m happy to be alive

.

blue skies seen through glass

Swisher smoke and exhausted slumber

bare feet on sun-baked grass

my car smells like summer

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poetry

Wise Council

I spent some time with my spiritual counselor today.

Spent time with him, and gave him lettuce and fresh water and the way he gives thanks for these is enough to make anyone calm down and smile.

When I come home

wanting nothing more than to gripe about petty irritations,

he won’t let me.

He talks over me, drowning out the sound of my grumbling with his small, soft, insistent voice,

and I listen despite my aggravation.

And I smile.

Guinea pigs have a lot to say.

My furry guru accomplishes more with his fresh bedding and hay than some other “masters” do with crystals and candles and chakra wheels. His world is mostly cage-confined, interrupted by cuddles and pellet-meals.

And he is wise.

Offering only unbiased love and untarnished affection from his somber little eyes.

My tiny, loaf-shaped teacher is enlightened and, through his tutelage, so am I.

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poetry

Faith

Today I noticed the sky was blue. It may be that way all the time, though I can’t be sure.

Either way, it can’t be real.

Smooth and perfect, without a flaw.

Who painted that?

Who said it was okay?

How can you look up, and trust something you can’t even touch? It’s completely unthinkable.

Look at it, up so damn high.

So out of touch, with all our lives.

What’s the sky know?

It’s not something I trust.

Precious and naive, that cool blue expanse hanging above us all, every day, unmoving.

The sky makes me so nervous.

Anything could be hiding there.

I’ll seek shelter.

There’s no peace under clouds.

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poetry

no eyes, always watching

​the daytime ends, and town bells chime

all good children get in line

one by one and two by two

the Slender Man will come for you

a tall, pale man without a face

fresh, young lives will be erased

his plain black suit is hard to see

as he strides quickly through the trees

do not quiver, do not shake

your precious, tiny hands he’ll take

leading you into the woods

he’ll pat your head, you’ve been so good

his hard, white hands will beckon so,

with claws just like a carrion crow

between the trees you’ll run and skip

into his sacks you’ll lightly trip

tied up in a bag you’ll rest

until he hungers for your flesh

then out into the light you’ll come

and live until his meal is done

do not fight him, do not scream

you’ll never waken from this dream

now close your eyes and count to ten

we’ll never hear your voice again

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poetry

Song of a sock

I wait for you in the dark.

You, who took me into your home,

brought me somewhere safe and surrounded me with friends.

I lay still until you need me.

My twin and I, ready to serve,

we will be your foundation, we’re here to be used.

I have only one wish, just

please use me ’till my body tears.

Let me wrap snugly against you on cold nights,

I live only for the moment you pluck my from my room

with your kind hands.

Here at your feet I will remain,

and nowhere else.

My life is humble, but full of quiet joy.

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