I like my skin snug
Pulled concave with its curving
Causing slight concern
-a.r.
Photograph: Slinka By Sarah Thompson
Control
•November 1, 2014 • 2 CommentsDear Moms (repost)
•November 1, 2014 • 4 CommentsYou are an adult
And are therefore empowered rightfully
As you see fit, even aggressively, to explore your own sexuality
It is my job, and mine alone
To educate my daughter towards her own
Power and control, the right to say yes as equally as no
Perhaps you should feel some retreat
From someone else teaching children about sexuality
Not fear of the pop-star or TV, but of the quiet predator down the street
Our priorities are so fucked up
When we fear our own sex oh so much
That we scream louder at other women, than we do at this misogynist system
But how we all stay so shut up
About sex crimes committed, even against us
Where are we putting our power, in someone else’s thrust, No I will not hush
I will not be afraid of sex and talking honestly
Just because a pedophile once had control of me
I will love the skin I live in and explore it on my own terms, brave and free
My voice, my body, my sex, my right, my pleasure
If I can instill one thing in my daughter may it be to treasure
All of those things in herself equally, because she too was born an autonomous SHE
-a.r.
La Belle Dame sans Merci by Frank Cadogan Cowper
One Night
•October 31, 2014 • 4 CommentsOn Mischief Night I
Embody Lizzie Borden
Bad parents Beware
-a.r.
Artwork: Lizzie Borden by Krista Huot
HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE
Rebirth
•October 30, 2014 • Leave a CommentA leafless tree bears
Down on me in monochrome
There is my tombstone
The feel of hip bones
Pressing cool on porcelain
There is life again
-a.r.
Photograph by Siripiri on Tumblr
One Mistress
•October 30, 2014 • Leave a CommentLast night
My lover made a claim, wanting 100% of me
Of loyalty and of belief, I will not let this be
I reject this, my body cannot digest this
100% of anything is a lie, unless we speak of when you die
All of me is not up for grabs, not even on the table
I alone will save this painted face if I am able
There is at least one card you cannot see
So close that I have sewn it directly into me
Mine, this fleshy vest, you may have the rest
But this Dame, she’s mine to play, one day
I will reach, with my own hand, into my beating heart
I will rip these seams apart, and I will throw her down
This Queen, and claim her crown
She and I alone decide how much of me
To hold, to play, to bluff, discard, or hide
Or perhaps if you are lucky
To let it ride
-a.r.
Painting: Judith II The Queen of Hearts by Karen M.
Red Room
•October 29, 2014 • Leave a CommentTonight I adore being voyeur,
While walking dark streets with a distant friend,
Discussing stomach pains and poetry.
A hostile city hugs me tight this night,
And its architecture aches straight into me,
Giving me license I do not normally allow.
I see your lace slip and chase a bitter breeze,
Your smooth and sanguine walls disrobe before me,
I discover in this grit a moment of pure wonder.
I have not felt like this in months,
Free and peeping, willing to wallow deep inside belief,
Everything else ceasing to be.
Except for you, your second floor beckoning,
Orderly rows of leather-bound books, an exactly centered chandelier,
Offering a glimpse of life that I cannot keep myself from creating.
Tonight I follow my forgotten fetish,
I let myself drift and remember the thrill of imagining,
I watch, and am made warm, for a moment, inside your red room.
-a.r.
Photograph: I’ll Never Tell by EyesOpenPhotos on Etsy.com
This is a reworking of a poem I wrote many years ago…before that other said “red room” became polished pop culture.
Too Clever
•October 28, 2014 • 2 CommentsI call this a human practice
But nearly regularly now
An animal prances in on paws
Stops big and strong until I notice
Pulls me with a deadwood stare
Just barely leaning towards out there
And nearly regularly now
I follow
We sit silent in the wild
And all manner of creatures
Arise, call, alight, and crawl
When I am steady long enough
They fold me into their fight
For survival
Share with me their pauses
Taking stock
So nearly regularly now
I am aware
That I am simply one of them
And this stillness, this struggle
Is not specially reserved
Is made too clever in our head
This instinct has been born and bred
And nearly regularly now
We have
Forgotten
-a.r.
Painting: Ambalance by Rico Blanco
This Morning
•October 27, 2014 • 3 CommentsI try to write hai,
Ku about interruption.
I’ve too many syll…
-a.r.
Image: Sun Interruption by LarsenOnDeviant
This Ache
•October 25, 2014 • 6 CommentsThis ache
Here you are again
Nesting nerves under my skin
The obvious and throbbing thumb
The growling ghost inside my gut
The drawer left open yesterday
The toppled pile of disarray
The hungry tug away from tasks
The dream today that just distracts
The chair pulled out and left that way
The knick-knack put back out of place
The water boiling down to bare
The scent of scorching in the air
The forgotten feeling left ajar
The cold stuffs spoiling where they are
The dust shadow upon the shelf
The empty pang for something else
You reside inside this space
Here you are again
This ache
-a.r
Painting: Rachael by Heather Bolinder
Magical Thinking
•October 23, 2014 • Leave a CommentI thought of rooms on fire
And the smoke alarm detected
A strangeness still in the air
After I had smelled its ash for days
Finally, the sound of something there
Then I thought of you
And the back door blew open
Cooling parts of me by breeze, exposed,
My wildness calmed, for just a moment
I let it stay askew to spite the chill
Then I thought of other worlds
And words with eyes glared at me from pages
Winked at me from gaps in speakers
As verse and music mingled
I was moved and moving all day long
And then I thought, “Now, I am strong”
I let myself follow whims and feel it all
The electric me let loose
A magnetic pulse to pause all machinations
And I am still buzzing, and causing blazes
-a.r.
Image: Magical Thinking, a photo shoot by Tim Walker
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