Brown is Down
Brown, brown, brown. I do so hate the brown.
Red and black. Crimson and blue.
And blood and flesh.
These are my cloth and armor.
Brown is earth, brown is down.
Brown does not move or flash.
Brown is the blanket of the decomposing dead.
Oh I fear the brown of my lover’s hair
and still I dig there for roots
to desperately grasp and grasp
when I cry and release and fly away
in that beautiful little death.
[Gee golly. Am I preoccupied with sex much these days? Yep, looks like.]
Stayed
You should have just stayed
Driving you home last night
That wasn’t my plan
Nevermind that now
Why worry yourself with that
That’s my damned business
So forget about it
The nightmares are nothing big
Get used to them
My kitchen is bare
Everyone else’s lovers
Stir morning coffee
(Except my lover
Reassigned that chimera
After last night’s dream)
Maybe that’s not fair
Rather I should have mercy
You’re blind as a bat
That’s why I stumble
Every bleak Sunday morning
Grey, lazy, crazy
You’d have brewed coffee
Even brought me my breakfast
Then run fetched the mail
Lay on a sweet kiss
Send me off to the shower
Ready my wardrobe
Even stroked my hair
Run off those scary monsters
Sneaking up on me
Expel and then slay them
Maybe even replace them
More I can’t hope for
(Regarding last night
There’s, of course, all that business
Settled now, sundered
Do you think that’s it?
That’s really not it at all
Last night’s not the point
This morning is what
This is what you’re not getting)
Grey Sunday mornings
See, if I’d just snapped
Done what I set out to do
Obtained that new bond
Don’t think I’d be dead
Draped over this messy bed
Wishing you had stayed
Damn, you’d be here now
Wearing that endearing smile
Earning gratitude
(Early Sundays, love,
Even small scraps of grateful
Like blood from turnip)
Please understand this
Sunday mornings are awful
and I need you here
Wonder a while
and grieve
the windows only watch unaware
in pain
The clock keeps the time
with singular focus
denying it all
I am surrounded
by nothing that sees me
or knows me
but he beside me
I let my hand lay scarred
before my eyes
and wonder a while
amidst all of this
The sun set on his shoulder
and his hair did it’s best to distract me
but I listened to what he had said
He is my bones and my flesh
and surprise, I forgot
I am his
He said
The moon pulls at the sea
and waves beat at the earth
until it forms sand
to accommodate
accommodate me, the sea
So I wear his ring of laughter
the ghost of his kiss at my throat
and the gleam in his eye on my cheek
And that’s why it will all be okay
Gotta Lot To Do
Carve the body, keep the brain
Spirit open, public view
Grave my name against the grain
Still gotta lot to do
Subtle collar for my throat
Shrouding cloth for my tattoo
I ate the curse the doctor wrote
Still gotta lot to do
These roads and runs need traveling
Ruin and wreck to drive you through
What price from all this lagging on
Outrunning horrors I outgrew
No bargain, barter, dole or deal
No devil’s misbegotten due
I don’t know what I fell into
No vague conception, not a clue
This shadow puppet I pursue
Still gotta lot to do
Relearning everything I knew
Loving life and loving you
Wearing out my walking shoes
Still gotta lot to do
Then you, just off my outward wing
My softly spoken noble king
Your most surprising tongue, that kiss
The pulsing song within my wrists
Oh, hold me when I weary be
And I’ll obey your good decree
Come with me, boy, to far away
Where last I left my truly me
I’ll show you what I found today
Of my long lost identity
If you concede to come along
Each breath I’ll sing of love for you
Come on then, boy, and sing along
We’ve gotta lot to do

2 comments
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April 26, 2008 at 12:37 am
Alley Cat
A little shocking. I had to read it again to get it. This one is powerful, Mary! There is a sadness in this one that really lingers. “Brown is down”? Why is that?
May 11, 2008 at 4:17 am
Mary Contrary
This was some early work. Honestly, I think you’re right about the element of sadness in it.
Feeling unworthy, maybe? Other than that, I dunno.