Her red painted nails
ripped into more than just a toned oiled back
it also ripped into a soul
slicing through the future's eye
sand slowly slipping
through the hour glass of time
her hand slipping in mine
it matters, when searching
for the wonders and the riches
we find
sapphire dreams pinned upon the wall
mouths melting into the scene
we don't need to scream
when it's time,
we'll open up the cage
then the prettiest bird flies free
She sits in judgement of the unseen otherness
of a moment passed yet frozen
for us purveyors of skin deep beauty,
perhaps we seek a measure of our own trauma.
All his portraits of me are lies. They're all Picassos. Not one is Dora Maar.*
Sixty portraits of me
and each is a projection of you,
what you need, what you see~
and not one of me is real.
Sight
bright, clear
seeing, knowing, becoming
love, beauty, ugly, hate
knowing, raging, fading, dying
blind!
* Dora Maar quoted by Amy Crawford. "A Look Back at the Artist Dora Maar". Smithsonian Magazine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dust swirls where sandals
once pressed into thirsty earth~
now footprints vanish.
A voice whispers through the fig:
Child, why search among the dead?
I've been hammering my hope with city sounds
Coffin nails clicking on concrete dreams
Smoke stacks preach,and I am their parishioner
Every alley is an altar,every streetlight a saint
I drink from the gutters of gospel graffiti
Find my reflection in broken bottles
And bless my sins with spit and asphalt
I have been eating more vegetables lately
my fingernails are thickening
they were never sturdy before, but they are now
Is it the potatoes? The carrots? The corn?
Could it be the lettuce?
Or is it my age?
Do faeries meet at night and polish them with magic hardening gel?
I may never know
Fingers
Long, slender
Tapping, painting, holding
Creating tiny canvases for my niece
Pinking, twinkling, glittering
Tiny, cherished
Nails
No I don't like long nails
And yes my relationships end soon
But it hurts because I care about my relationships more than my nails
The nailpolish doesn't stay on usually
And my acts of love aren't compromised
But the only stain that gets deeper into my heart is of heartache
I bite my nails often
And trust my love a lot
But at the end the claws of lust are the ones that overpower
toe nail clipper? she asks. I laugh and scoff.
It’ll take a jackhammer to get these nails off.
They are thick, gristly, harder than a screw.
What about sheep shears? Asks my cousin Lou.
She does not have nails like these wretched claws.
I change the batteries in both of my chainsaws
It has to be done, all my socks have gigantic holes.
I reach for the first chainsaw whose battery glows.
These broken nails
Not pretty to look at,
My triumphs, my fails
Mean more than that
Been scratching away
Digging for some end,
By night, by day …
‘Til they begin to bend
Once polished to a shine
… Is perfectly cracked,
With pulled hair of mine
And my nerves wracked
All glitter, all gold …
Neither one can stay,
But, broken nails, I'm told
Says something anyway.
Perhaps I have descended so low, already sinking my nails into the bottom of the abyss,
While my fangs point towards the distant sky, bathed in moonlight,
Perhaps I have lied, hidden things and left them behind on the stars,
And perhaps I only told you what you wanted to hear, a story to lose yourself in.
But I know that this is better than lying to my own being,
To hide from the truths that haunt me in the silence of the night,
For in the lies told to others, I find a temporary refuge,
But the lies told to myself bury me even deeper.
There, in the depths where the moon cannot reach,
Remain the unspoken dreams, the unwritten words,
Like jewels hidden in the dark corners of the mind,
Waiting for the light of sincerity to reveal their shine.
Perhaps the path to truth is dark and full of thorns,
But it is purer than living in a world of illusions,
For between the silence of lies and the voice of truth,
I choose my fangs turned towards the sky, seeking unseen light.
Rough cut pieces of wood bearing many splinters,
they shall be a portal through which all sin enters,
blood soaked nails being constantly driven,
one set of nails that will have a story written,
from a sapling these pieces of wood were chosen,
a destination to end stained a color of rosen,
part of history that will never be forgotten,
a mark of courage for even the downtrodden,
two pieces of wood that will always mean so much,
turned into a cross and embraced by His touch.
Six fancy ladies came for tea
Wearing painted six-inch-long fingernails
They could barely pick up their cups
I have no idea how they put on their stockings
They wore shiny sequin party dresses
Most had been to the beauty shop
Their hostess’s nails were short
She had been working in the kitchen all morning.
The finger foods were super delicious.
Stories and laughter prevailed.
Kids carried the fancy ladies' purses to their cars.
None of them could grip anything with those super long nails.
I will never have my nails done
In a salon or anywhere else
Mine will remain short, dirty, and broken
Because I use them not only daily, but almost every minute.
I cannot fathom having those two-inch appendages
With points, painted with daisies or in wild colors
How do they open a can of pop?
Or pet a puppy without doing damage?
I'm feeling judged still by what jury's found cold; in the courts of February
Tried to hide 'til July; warm feelings are just not meant to be temporary
I count my curses on one hand and my blessings on the other
Whichever fills up first; the latter will assuredly smother
The shadows always seem to know that light exposes the darkest holes
You can't get over it or crawl out from under it; within me no angel controls
But I'm willing to watch over you mimicking their heavenly roles
With its gift, I provocatively compose about the most wishful goals
Laying on this rusted bed of nails; made with the hammer of trite
In love, if there wasn't profound real pain, would it ever feel quite right?
My brother calls me "Hammer Head"
Cause I eat Nails !
My sister calls me "Tacky"
Cause I eat Nails !
My friends call me "Spike"
Just because I eat Nails !
Everyone says I am a
"glutton for punishment"
I just can't seem to stop,
Biting on my Nails !
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