A Different Sort of Suffering

We like to wonder about what is to come
Because the unknown is thrilling
And the known is nothing but
Stale coffee and broken staplers
Every corner of my life has a dent in it
Or a pothole or a mud stain or
A dragon behind the door
With great fangs and the back arched
Waiting for things that haven't happened yet
Worrying about things that might not happen
And all these things are illusions
Delusions
Confusions
They're a different sort of suffering
Wondering what is to come
Is a self injected needle filled with
Blood from a dying pheasant
As the bird wonders if it should
Stray to the wolf's jaw or just wonder
How it would be like to be brave
(Or an idiot, you choose)
Like a horse with blinders on
And a flamethrower for a tail
I speed towards uncertainty
The hooves chaffed and the wings scorched
And the rider gone astray
Talking about the future
Only my demise is certain
And the rest is a brew
Of good days and better days
Days where I'm a princess
Days where I'm a brute
(Or anything in between the two)
Just thinking about it
Weakens
My
Mind
As I wait for the dragon
To burn a hole through the door
This is a different sort of suffering

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Happiness is Pink Jellybeans

Happiness is jumping in a pool of pink jellybeans Feeling the cool candy on my skin Happiness is enjoying the pleasures of life Without worrying about confessing my sins Whoever said that we are gluttons For biting juicy pears on the beach Must never have felt the sand in their toes They must have placed their own soul out of reach And what about greed? It's not all that bad To bury a pile of chestnuts for the spring All animals do it, so why shouldn't we? If it's greedy to love yourself, let it be Lust is the one that makes pastors blush Yet it's one of the greatest joys in the body A kiss and a dance, laughter and romance Why did we ever label this happiness as naughty? Have you ever seen a cat sad when it naps? It is okay to sometimes be lazy The body needs rest as does the mind Or the world will set fire from the crazy If happiness is a sin, then let me smile in hell Looking up at the do-gooders above For to live is to err, to cry, and to sing Happiness is pink jell...

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Jesus looks over The lost souls and bones below In the jungle sun To witness such beauty And such devastation God painted with one brushstroke Merry men sing Holes in their shoes The dark night lit up By police sirens And the crescent moon Bats flail around Like me, lost in the jungle Eyes glaring all around I hope they're monkeys Or jaguars I hope I can keep a piece of This country with me Safe in my pocket It smells like tropical rain And feels like The clam shells Washed up on the shore It tastes like fried bananas And heavily salted steak Sounds like seabirds cawing Samba on the streets And looks like a page From a storybook About parrots and palm trees Of finding a golden treasure A magnificent, uneasy place When she sun goes down So do we Leaving the night To the creepy crawlers And innocent stray cats

I See the Fire

Every time I close my eyes, I see the fire That aches where you burned me last I am a woman of the earth and the cool soil Where life ferments and earthworms roam I can't survive the lava that pulses beneath The crust of this beautiful land Yellow dandelions piercing the grass Emerald pockmarked with gold I wish sometimes that I wasn't a woman of the earth I wish that I were stronger I wish that my bones were made of steel And my heart of flame So that I wouldn't fall apart at every Crude remark, every Light tug, every Covert attack That rolls off the back of a fire-woman Instead, my skin is transluscent Like the morning dew My muscles pieced together With tree sap and mushrooms What's an earth-woman to do In a world engulfed by fire? But root herself firmly to one place Grow a network of twisting underground limbs And create a stable home To escape the chaos of this world

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