patchwork girl (haiku)

sins of her father

black swatches and blue ribbons

of mother’s neglect

she’s a patchwork girl

pieces stitched together by

vivid crimson thread

~Melanie Thomason

Reblog in honor of Blue Monday

WINTERING

Originally posted in 2013. Poem with Audio 🙂

Wordifull

Wintering this body.

I wear my seperateness

like a shield from fantasy

and the fear of cold.

I know by now

one santa claus

who comes with a strange,

black gift for each of us.

I know love is real

but a fugitive from law.

That freedom’s breath is raw

and the world we think round

is shapeless after all.

~ Melanie Blackwell

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run

she left the men and the trail behind long ago

yet she continued her frantic pace

across the desolate plain

narrowly avoiding jagged chunks of dead rock

that threatened her footing

she was starving for water

as was the terrain

there was no green to be seen

as she ran she kept her eyes on the high tops of the redwoods

hoping they meant water was nearby

the air she was inhaling in great, greedy gulps

was burning and drying her mouth and nostrils

surely the dark ones were no longer following

but she couldn’t risk stopping

she staggered on even after

the sharp brittle fingers of dead, black bushes

slashed and scarred her face and legs

she slipped and stumbled, floundering for footing

a great dread possessed her as she tumbled

over the snarled edge of the ridge

into,

into what?

all her weary eyes could make out was darkness

and then came the searing pain

then nothing-

~Melanie Thomason

 

hush now

hush now

no one wants to hear

keep it to yourself

don’t air our dirty laundry

what would the neighbors think?

hush now

don’t cry

we are all big boys and girls

crying is for babies

or in the dark of night all by yourself

hush now

don’t speak

some truth might just slip out

we wouldn’t want that

now, would we?

~Melanie Thomason

was it her fault

Did she ask for it?

was her skirt too short?

her top too tight?

too revealing?

did her eyes say yes, while she said no?

was it her fault because she had the nerve to be at that party?

or out alone?

or drinking?

Did she ask for it?

Did it make you feel like a big man?

to take what wasn’t yours?

to use fear and control and body parts as weapons?

Did she ask for it?

Did she want her life forever altered?

or was it You?

 

~Melane Blackwell

 

 

 

 

 

Cell Memory

there-

do you see it?

look!

look harder

you gotta kinda squint your eyes

and let go

let the focus slide a little off

and look with your soul

with the wide red eyes of your heart

now

LOOK

do you see?

do you SEE?

♦

i dreamt of you and that is the scary part

it’s not just that you’re you and you’re beautiful

it’s that you are so aptly suited to me

like i couldn’t have built you better

♦

sometimes, oh, sometimes i think i am so STUPID —

so stupid to let myself get into this mess

but i’ve been living it for so long i don’t know what else to do or how else to be

sometimes,  oh sometimes,  i wonder

♦

yes, it is to You, but i won’t let you read this

because it doesn’t mean anything

and you don’t need to know

it’s all been to someone

all of it

it’s always been aimed somewhere

just happens to be you — this time

which is to say —

it’s the most real thing in the world

♦

but in the end

it is less about you

and more about me

because when you’re gone

i will still have my words

♦

me and my Words

a match made somewhere on the rim of hell

♦

oh, and i don’t even know what i’m blathering about anymore

it’s all gotten lost in the translation from thought to tongue to paper

it is all lost

and i’m

lost

LOST

♦

if I keep this up I’m gonna say something I can’t take back

going to confess some terrible rhyme

one of these days you’ll take your hair down and it will kill me

i don’t know how to explain but i have this THING for hair

for long dark hair on long white men

it’s something older than time and a memory in my cells

some THING that makes my soul ache

♦

i am ample distraction

if i sit here long enough

maybe i’ll sprout roots

maybe i’ll grow on you

(sounds like a threat to me — better run!)

(come undone)

(better do it, now –or else)

♦

when you opened the door did you expect to find me?

do you know what you are looking at?

do you know me and will you hear my name?

♦

i don’t ask or offer because i don’t want to be turned down

even gracious objection is wounding enough on its own

without the killing pain of outright refusal

but — you KNOW, now you know, i told you and you still talk to me like i’m a human being —

that is something

something i wouldn’t have had the guts for a year ago

do you ever wonder at the tide of time?

do you wonder as the candy-man plinks coins off the links in my spine?

♦

not like that, not like it was but as it will be

future imperfect, the residual of years of languages —

♦

wild

feral

bestial

Queen

oh the things

you might have been

♦

i couldn’t let it be a secret, not this time, you’re too you for me to have suffered in silence

where is this going?

is it at an end —

oh gods

i don’t know

how to end

i never have

that’s my curse

and gift i guess

this mobius strip of endless dithering

i think i must

stop

now

or else

it’s time

now

for my date

with

Death

~Melanie Blackwell

*an old journal entry unearthed

Kiss of Fig

The following was inspired by this lovely photo from Laurie W. Smith who was kind enough to let me post it here 🙂

 

 

The bliss of fig

embraces, nutrients tap

from its host for its own good

◊

The curse of fig

nooses, chokes and wraps

killing the host where it stood

◊

The kiss of fig

seduces root and sap

trapping the ghost in wood

◊

 

~Melanie Blackwell

some-thing

countless midnights

unsleeping

spent walking quietly 

in the darkness

enjoying the comforting solitude

the night affords

but this night

something

earthbound

some thing prowls

shadows rustle

haunt and growl

nerves jangle

shivers careen down my spine

panicked 

I run 

alone

in the black

imagining a stampede

of horns and teeth

of maggots swarming beneath skin

some thing grabs hold

squeezing

screams

from my unwilling throat

chocking

sobbing

I strain

I break in two

sins run red

–

mutiply my body into darkness

–

~Melanie Blackwell