Long Unlovely Poems
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I have my own truths
I'm sure you have yours too,
sparkling gems of experience
that no one else will ever believe.
I remember the first time you left me
deep in Mother Earth's womb,
I awoke and you were gone,
It was supposed to be me.
Did God put his foot down
and change everything..
Pops use to tell me
that I was good for nothing,
I believed him.
and then he wanted me to reach
for the stars, soothe his worried mind,
expected me to feel loved,
expected me to show love
but I never learned how.
and now, even after all these years
I'm still haunted by his voice
Good for nothing.
So why do guys expect me to know
what I have never known.
What did I ask for
that was simply too much?
But take a look at yourself
because I am not the only one
who was left feeling unlovely.
Unlovely flowers wither
and drop from the stem.
Only plastic flowers please them.
I don't really believe that
but I need an excuse
for being me.
It was Easter Sunday
I was leaving Isle of Palms
in my 2004 Toyota Corolla
that was once my sister’s
before she moved to Colima, Mexico
I overheard a conversation
and left the house
I wanted miles between there
and anywhere
I called you as I trembled
up the road on all four wheels
All the cars were bulldozers
of purpose and confidence
I felt like iceberg lettuce
swaying over pavement
ready to be tossed
out of the sandwich
You told me to get it together
“You’re from Rochester, remember?
Come on woman! Breath!”
I asked you to help me
get over the bridge:
“Just keep talking.
I don’t know where I’m going,
and my hands are sweating”
It wasn’t your words,
I don’t remember many
It wasn’t you next to me,
we live too far for intimacy
It wasn’t any reassurance
You know
my vulnerability
that I hide so gracefully
in my Audrey Hepburn
attempts for elegance
I show you my raw,
unhinged, unlovely
childish fears
that I will not outgrow
I am the chipped marble
you hold in your hand
I am your Minnie,
your knucklehead,
your superfluous adjective
I know you prefer
succinct conversations
and strong women,
but I need your steadiness
You carry me over
every bridge
(no matter extreme global
warming more dire,
then cursing me smoldering
infernal languishing spitfire.)
Shade did adolescent
facade drifts asunder
asper...a major emotional blunder
shielding sensitive myopic eyes
against quashed
then young life, never
ordinarily gathering rose buds,
now I always wonder.
No, never so much
as a feeble arc
unable to issue even a light bark
unresponsive as a
cold bunsen burner,
nor can Clark
Kent marshal superman,
thus vital willpower
bleak and dark
within thine body electric
as mine life
journey doth embark
completing protracted orbit
whar raging self against time
strikes into metaphorical abysmal pit
continuing charade of
existence or quit
before chronological demise
decrees death to be writ
once flickering enthusiastic
willpower to be alive
snuffed livingsocial esprit de corps
elan forcibly crushed,
sans kamikaze nose dive,
when psychological arc
tangentially crossed figurative bee hive
aswarm with countless
invisible poisonous stingers
pierced late mine boyhood
asper razor sharp cutting knives
brandished by figures
shrouded within dark hood
whar bent gnarled fingers
grabbed and wood
not let go stranglehold
of thine curse canst atone
weak prepubescent unlovely skeletal bone
sinister voices still faintly heard,
within me noggin drone
like angry thundering birds
as anorexic starved
flesh didst groan,
now that fragile adolescent
boy within me revisits
haunting this middle aged
married man, whose moan
more nsync with countless
stifled mailer daemons
entombed akin to rigor mortis,
viz complex Oedipus prone
a wander lost young lad,
who left every mouldering stone
unturned - fearing unleashing
def finning tone
even to this very dusky moment
of my damned charade
fresh with painted fore
sight groping blindly
within outer limits
of the twilight zone.
Framed blemish.
Heavy as a tumor.
Solid as surrender.
Dig into epidermis.
Uproot the moment.
Unclean kernel.
Hard, cold reflection.
Show me pretty.
Clogged pores.
Yellow teeth.
Rheumy eyes.
Ugly is as ugly does.
Smile at the mirror.
Try to forget.
This is you.
Forever unlovely.
Look at what you did.
Children are so cruel.
Rose scented perfume.
Disguise the stench.
Excrete from every orifice.
Sweat soaked lace.
Urine stained ribbons.
Paint and purify the meat.
Shave the head.
Smear on foundation.
Sever the lips.
Dust with powder.
Extract the teeth.
Cauterize with lipstick.
Amputate the feet.
Brush on eye shadow.
Saw through hip joints.
Smudge on blush.
Open up the abdomen.
Suture with mascara.
Remade.
Smiling through distortion.
Deny the trauma.
Repair the shell.
Convincingly Beautiful.
Improbably clean.
A crisp, cold morning in Hyde Park,
and he is waiting for his date.
As joggers jog and poodles bark,
the girl's unconscionably late.
He paces London's crocused heart,
as traffic booms in Piccadilly:
he's practicing that English art
of seeming calm, while feeling silly.
One final tryst beside the lake,
in front of the Eternal Boy:
a parting kiss, for old times' sake ...
she's stood him up? Or playing coy?
The hotel clerk purrs sympathy
when summoned on the mobile phone.
By now, she'll be in Duty Free.
Well, there it is. This Bird Has Flown.
He tries to feign the jaunty airs
of a striped suit on a sandwich sortie,
but doing drily debonaire's
not easy when you're fat and forty.
He tramps the lonely, flat green mile
to Green Park Tube's unlovely portal,
but perks up with a cheeky smile -
well, for a week he was immortal!
God's chosen people were unfaithful
to the God they once loved but now left
how was God going to respond to this?
being rejected His right to use His fist
But God doesn't act like a man would do
He chose to love these people as His own
to adopt them making His love to abound
upon an unlovely imperfect people, He did atone
Then these people show their rejection
using accusatory language so rude
'How have you loved us?' they say
being rebellious against love totally good
God then shows His justice upon them
opposing Edom the people of Esau
allows them to fall into wickedness
His anger eternal to those spurned His law
But Christ came to select His own
for God's love spreads over all folk
all of Christ's life covers their rebellion
He gave His life to those who are broke
(The oracle of the word of the Lord to Israel by Malachi.
“I have loved you,” says the Lord. But you say, “How have you loved us?” “Is not Esau Jacob's brother?” declares the Lord. “Yet I have loved Jacob but Esau I have hated. I have laid waste his hill country and left his heritage to jackals of the desert.” If Edom says, “We are shattered but we will rebuild the ruins,” the Lord of hosts says, “They may build, but I will tear down, and they will be called ‘the wicked country,’ and ‘the people with whom the Lord is angry forever.’” Your own eyes shall see this, and you shall say, “Great is the Lord beyond the border of Israel!”)
Malachi 1: 1-5 (ESV)
(Pierantonio Stiattesi really existed. He was somehow
on the periphery of the Gentileschi social circle. Tassi
really did send him a sonnet entitled, “Change, change,
Stiattesi!” Some years after the trial, Stiattesi married
Artemisia … so in his eyes, at least, she was not
“damaged goods”.)
Pierantonio Stiattesi
I am a painter and from Tuscany,
a good friend of the Gentileschi, and
I know the others – somewhat. I can’t say
what may, or yet may not, have passed between
young Artemisia and that one. All I know,
and I attest to it, is Tassi was
obsessed with her. He wanted to suborn –
it’s proof you want? I don’t know if this serves,
but here’s a sonnet Tassi wrote to me,
and tossed in through my window. In his hand,
he writes as follows. Shall I read it out?
Change, change, Stiattesi! Be a better friend
than you were wont of late, for if you loved
your Agostino, would you not have proved
the same, by helping him towards his end?
Change, change, the dark imperative of life,
that renders human joy impermanent,
compels me. What once flourished, now is spent.
You know I’ve been abandoned by my wife!
No thing is constant. Water wears through stone.
Just as great bibles, chained to abbey shelves,
are gnawed to pulp by worms, so with ourselves:
beneath beguiling flesh, unlovely bone.
Be you like Cosimo – learn to arrange
such comforts as a friend may ask. Change, change!
it would not be so painful
if you didn't claim to be
a follower of the "WAY"
claiming to love
as He loved
It would not be so painful
if you didn't know any better
but you do
you do
and still you do what you do
and say what you say
It would not be so painful
if you were courageous
and owned up to your wrong
showed you're morally strong
ethically brave
eager to save a relationship gone wrong
It would not be so painful
if you practiced what you preach
No, it would not be so painful
but it is...
it is...
expectations are thorns in the flesh
that rip and tear
when they are not met
by those who are supposed to "care"
I guess nominal is Ok
Nominal Christians
who cling to the name
forgetting the shame
of letting him down
by not loving the...."unlovely"
by forgetting what he said:
"And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?" (Matthew 5: 46)
It's Ok...
One day....it will all be Ok....just not today.
Eileen Manassian
Earth had offered Her eco-centric contract
of love and synergy,
awaiting ego's personal response each day,
each moment,
eager to optimize wealthy health care cooperations
of sacred grace.
Over an apparently inadequate lifetime
ego implied his competitive response:
I grow increasingly excited,
stimulated,
by this co-petitioning challenge
to frame our dissonance,
our operational riddles and puzzles,
games and illogistics
and dark strategies
Measured in statistical decomposition
of the odds for sustaining life
by perfecting hatred and fear
of death's dissociative decay.
I question Earth's right to positive resolution
and harmonic resonance,
as consonant co-governance
of enlightened ego empowering eco
to play win/win,
recreate without sin,
and co-passion nicely together
This co-petition against wasted anxious time
fully exercises my right of conscience,
to re-search 0-sum ego-partisanship
for absolute freedom from eco-dependence.
This co-petition asserts our human natural guild's unlovely preference
for contention over contentment
for sustained longing rather than resilient belonging
for uni-lateral freedom
rather than ego/eco bilateral interdependence.
EarthMother absorbed this richly contentious compost,
this dissembling over cooperative rights of assembly
and competition challenging associative eco-creation
as too inclusive recreation,
divisive of ego's omnipotent present place
in organic space
derived from eco's multisystemic functions
within history's healthiest seasons.
It seems to me,
said She,
Time has unfolded an eco-systemic co-tractive gift,
born of Her binomial grace
in bilaterally felt space,
a belonging response to mutually co-tribute with ego
gratitude for bicameral mutuality
and full freedom of co-scientific consciousness,
to conjoin time's eternal moment
of past personal ego
with future eco recentering life.
Post Scripted: "After all this time and space
repeating inhumane competitions and cooperative contractions,
deductive inducements to balance positive political space
with negative un-ecological economic time,
thank you for remembering why RightBrain felt eco-normics
gave birth to LeftBrain's verbal ego-petitions
in our first through last breathing moment
of win/win eco-operative identity."
Signed: Earth's Polypathic CoOperative Covenant
This is Us,
my waist too big,
his check too small,
she's not the fairest
of Them all,
We must confess,
This is Ugly,
we are a mess,
the Earth's ungrounded
greatest pest,
But, This is Us,
our only home
to share it well
before its gone,
extracted
refracted
denuded
and fracted,
deluded
and impacted,
polluted
and red Raped... ...
Sacred
health neglected
and wealth abused,
THIS IS US!
We're all we have
and are,
All we remember
and imagine,
reimagine
our compassion
for Earth's great final passion;
This is Us
Filled with puss,
make it
or bust,
some say
"dust from dust,"
our parts
too often rust,
we smell
of patriarchal musky must,
need everything
right now or bust,
This is Us... ...
Not unlovely Them;
what will we do
when established trump
doesn't rule
our wild and free imaginations
of how I can be,
live true to
my own flawed beauty,
re-connecting
re-ligioning
re-membering
through all our neglected wild cards,
This EarthTribe is Us
We've each made god
in our best imagination
of how united nations
remember recreations
of great and wealthy destinations
from home regeneration
for health to safely hold
future generations
singing this our great examination
of how we are
in this Great Green Transitionalization,
This is Us
When we
most brilliantly choose
to see
This Us is Earth
regiving birth
forgiving death,
our wide democratic
and deeply
existential mess,
This is Us.