The Harlot Queen

Summer Woes

2009-07-19T14:27:00.000-07:00

Busy busy bee
No time left for me
Too much work
Too much fun
No time to be alone

Writers write
Yet at night
I am working
Or flatlined
In front of a screen

I promise to fulfill
My promise
To write
To look around
See what’s beneath
The surface

Summer is for doing
Winter is for thinking
How to make the nights
Be winters
Until the next summer morning

Writers write
Twits twitter
I don’t wanna be a twit
I wanna be a writer
Shut up and write
When it’s a winter night
In the summer

Two of Spades

2009-07-19T14:24:00.000-07:00

Two of Spades

Walking on a Sunday morning
Robert Plant and Alison Krause
Are singing in my ears
It’s hot already
And it’s only eight

Summer’s finally here
Now I remember what it’s like
On this side of the hill
It feels better than I remember
Maybe absence made the heart grow fonder

I’ve been thinking about somebody else’s mortality
Wondering about his legacy
Wondering if he wonders about his legacy
Poor him
I’m pretty sure he does
For hours at a time

Walking and singing
Looking around
Reality show wannabe
Smoking a cigarette
In last night’s dress
Talking to a boy with a beard

The Japanese man is sweeping
The red steps
He smiles when I say good morning
He’s wearing Crocs
They are a little too big for his feet
But he doesn’t seem to mind

Hundreds of yellow petals
Looking like little bells
Are scattered on the ground
I try not to step on any of them
And almost run into

Two women in black
Look out of context
On this hottest of days
Because of the black
And the faces
Out of place
In the hills
They would be more comfortable
On the West Side
With the other faces
That have no lines
No expressions
Matching noses and lips

Do they live here?
Are they visiting?
I’m sorry for their perfect faces
Out of context

Not too many dogs today
Or walkers
Or cars
But it’s Sunday
It’s early
And it’s hot

I’m left with my thoughts
Exactly where I want to be
Looking at the ground
I see
A two of spades
Lying in the dirt

Alone
At the side of the road
Face up
And I wonder

How did it get here?
Is it a message?
Where are the other cards?
Why the two of spades?

Prayer for Myself

2009-06-14T12:06:00.000-07:00

Prayer for Myself

Inspire me

High wire me

Forest fire me

Desire me

Drop me back on the razorblade

Life's been entirely too nice lately

I've lost my voice

I may be turning sweet

Oh, fuck!

My brain moved into my home

Got comfortable, stopped gazing

In awe

At the inspiration around me

I think of colors and shoes and sex

Instead of poetry

Please God please God please God

Give me back my voice

Writers write

But my themes are recently so inane

I am boring myself to death

Please give me back the balance

Of narcissist to genius

Of sensuality to insanity

Prosery not hosiery

I promise to use it

As You intend

I will always be someone's muse

Even if it's only my own

Please can't I have it back?

Fear

2009-06-07T21:12:00.000-07:00

Writer's block

Is only fear
Of the vast expanse
On an empty page

Thousands of words
Images and thoughts
Trapped inside your head

Let one out on the page
It doesn’t matter
Which
Word or image or thought

One will follow another
And another after that
Making shapes
Filling pages

Shading
Fading
Trading

Forming an arc
A poem
A painting
A song

If only the artist
Stops standing in the way
Of his own gift
And lets it flow
And lets it go

From the head
To the page
To the eyes
To the ears
To the heart

Just let it go
Just let it flow

Close your eyes and jump
Maybe you’ll fall
Maybe you’ll soar
You’ll never know
Unless you let go
The fear

And jump

Fear

2009-06-07T21:02:00.000-07:00

Writer’s block
Is only fear
Of the vast expanse
On an empty page

Thousands of words
Images and thoughts
Trapped inside your head

Let one out on the page
It doesn’t matter which

Word
Or image or thought

One will chase another
And another after that
Making shapes
Filling the pages

Shading
Fading
Trading

Forming an arc
A poem
A painting
A song

If only the artist
Stops standing in the way
Of his own gift
And lets it flow
And lets it go

From the head
To the page
To the eyes
To the ears
To the heart

Just let it go
Just let it flow

Close your eyes and jump
Maybe you’ll fall
Maybe you’ll soar
You’ll never know
Unless you let go
The fear

And jump

2009-05-19T21:26:00.000-07:00

How come my head is full
Of ideas and pictures and sounds
One day and the next
I find myself
Watching Dancing With the Stars?

I cheat and look online
So I already know who won
And now I try to write
Because writers write

I tweet instead
Tonight I have no thoughts
Deeper than
One hundred forty characters

Thinking about nothing
Will I ever get laid again?
Of course I will
If it doesn’t matter
Who does the laying
But it does

So I remain true
To my twisted values
Celibate
Chaste, even
Not by choice
But chaste nonetheless

It’s not easy
Being a freak
Who’s past
Her expiration date

I think I’ll go back
And watch the end
Of Dancing With the Stars
Even though I already know
How it’s gonna end

Career Paths

2009-05-18T20:21:00.000-07:00

Career Paths

I met you years ago
After I left my love
Looking for me
Finding the search
A little harder than I
Thought it would be

I sat in a little office
Working the night shift
You wore a suit
Don’t know exactly what you did there
But we laughed sometimes

And you snuck up behind me
Made me jump
I sent you plastic handcuffs
In an interoffice envelope

Bought them at the party store
On the corner
On my dinner break
And some fishnet stockings
To give you a laugh or a thrill

I was a bartender two nights a week
For some extra cash
In an English pub
My lover was my boss there
Mad Englishman and
I was the bit on the side

You came in sometimes
On Thursday nights
With the sweetest girl
Stayed for a little while
Listened to some music
Talked to some friends

I worked until two
Had a drink, tried to sleep
Saw my lover between jobs
Fought like cats and dogs
Made up a lot

Watched him sink deeper
And deeper into the powder
Arthur was replaced by
Someone I didn’t want to know

Sometimes I didn’t want
To know me very much then either
Living with roommates
Hanging out with rock sluts
Musicians with big hair
The dealer

Beautiful crazy girls
Get more than they ask for
But it’s never enough
And it’s always too much

My drug was sorrow
Not too hard to find
If you only look
After awhile it costs too much
But you need it anyway

You went off to find your fortune
Married a beautiful girl
Became a titan
Of business
A father
A CEO

I went off to find a fortune
Of a different kind
My lover sunk deeper
Too much even for me
Found another lover
Killed her
Killed himself

I read about it in the LA Times
At 6:30 in the morning
He told me we would be together forever
Only weeks before

I still think about that day
How I wasn’t the one with him
When he finally went
So far over the edge
He could never come back

I found my path
Lived a good life
Strange success in business
I never sought but found
Regardless

All these years later
In a different place
Out of context
Here we are again
Older, smarter
Still living in the same skins

You’re still married
To the beautiful girl
And she’s still beautiful
You’re a grandfather

Who looks the same
As you did back then
Listening, watching, learning
It’s gotten you all the way
To the top

I have a little white cat
A serial monogamist
Past my expiration date
With a taste for bad boys

Only they are either dead
Or with twenty somethings
The universe has finally
Protected me from myself

And here we are again
I wonder if you ever think
Of the old days
And if it’s lived up to your dreams
If you’d have changed anything

It has and I wouldn’t
Hope it has for you
And you wouldn’t either

Naked Moment

2009-04-24T19:52:00.000-07:00

Naked Moment

Driving in L.A.

Stopped at a light

On Santa Monica and Barrington

I'm feeling good

Listening to music

Wrapping up the week

Getting ready to play

A blue Jeep Cherokee turns

Left in front of me

My window is down

And so is his

Beautiful man looking right at me

His eyes bluer than the sky

Or the Jeep

Smiling right at me

I'm smiling back

As he turns the corner

The light changes

I go on my way

Sixteen

2009-03-30T20:17:00.000-07:00

Sixteen

Long legs, big breasts

Brown eyes that always said too much

Sixteen going on thirty

She had it good in the suburbs

The perfect family

Three children and two dogs

Horses for the girls

A motorcycle for the boy

Going to church most Sundays

Such a pretty family

Envy of the block

Just don't look in the window

When they think they're alone

Daddy loved the neighbor

Mommy loved the pharmacist

Another day at dysfunction junction

Ignoring the elephants in the room

Love Song

2009-03-30T20:15:00.000-07:00

Love Song

Beautiful dangerous man
Broke me in two
Way back then
Now there’s only half of me

Why did I leave the city?
Lovers two, both drummers
Neither really there
Me, beautiful and bent
Then one left his wife
Came to stay
Me, bent, ran away

Square peg in a round hole
Standing on the corner
Watching for something, anything
Besides this small town nothing

And there he was
On a hot afternoon
Riding fast on a motorcycle
Wearing combat boots, denim shorts
Wifebeater and a red bandana on his head

I was lost
Not at that moment but later, at the bar
I was tending two nights a week
There he was, with someone else, his cousin Eddie
Wearing a black leather jacket and scarf
White shirt against his dark skin
Earrings and boots

And a smile that lit me up
I knew in that moment
When he took my hand
Tiny town in the middle of nowhere
Here it was, what I’d been waiting for

Standing on the razor blade
Adrenaline rush every day
Love me deeply
Hurt me more
Give me what I’ve always needed
Never got before

He was young and wild
Lived in the city
Came back to the country
Beautiful, broken man
And I loved him

Loved him when he appeared
In the middle of the night
While I was sleepingI still don’t know how he got in

When I’d watch him sleeping
Hoping he would keep breathing
Praying whatever he swallowed
Didn’t kill him that night
Watching his breath, feeling his heart

Nobody understood what
Brought us together
The redhead from L.A.
The Indian on the Kawasaki
But it was meant to be

We found the other half
The missing part of us
And I loved him
Like I’d never loved anyone
And never will again

We ran away to RenoWith his aunt Rita
Her husband Matt

They went to gamble
We found a justice of the peace
Got married in the middle of the night
Didn’t tell a soul

I got crazier
And so did he
We lit fires in each other
Pushed buttons
Tested, tried

He beat me,called me names
I went back to the city
Cheated with my drummer
For years
Pushed his buttons, ran away
Blamed it on him

Then loved each other more
Deeper, better for awhile
He was sober, I was faithful
Spent whole days together
Laughing, making love
Talking, sleeping, making love again

He beat me sometimes
Was always sorry, I always forgave
Because there’s no man better
Than the one who’s finished
Beating you and wants another chance

I cut his hair
Painted his little toenail red
Our secret thing
He brought me flowers
He’d picked on the way home

I was addicted to it all
The love, the hurt, the bruises
And regret
Thinking about it today,
I still want to feel it
Nothing since compares

When it ended
As it had to do
Or I’d be dead
His life would be over
For love eternal, hopeless
I ran away, he cursed me that day

I started over, sleeping on a sofa
In someone’s living room
Missing him every day
Crying and wishing I was there
With him
On a good day

Years passed, I searched
For answers in other men
Therapy, hard work,
In my own head
And I loved him still
The man who loved me
Who brought me flowers and kissed my toes

More years passed
I went back there with my sister
To see the county fair
For a small town adventure
And there he was, his back to me

The same wavy black hair
One braid down his back, strands of gray
I touched his arm, he turned
Around, blinked and stared
I started to cry

The years between were gone
He held me, told me he was sorry
For hurting me, for the end
I told him I loved him still
And it was my fault, too

We talked and held on to each other
For an hour or more
In the crowd of small town
People at the county fair

Made plans to meet in the morning
At the Miner’s Inn
I was there
He was not
I heard later that he got drunk, got arrestedSpent the night in jail

I came back to the city
Where I belong, with my people
Empty, broken still
In that place where love’s supposed to be

I don’t want it anymore
None of it can compare
To that man, those days
Standing on the razor blade

The rush of love and hate
The buzz and pain, his smile
The feel of his flesh on mine

Life is good, the part I feel
But I never left him
Never got away
And for the rest of my life
I’ll belong to him

Walking

2009-03-16T20:04:00.000-07:00

This morning while hiking in the hills I saw

Two doves walking down a driveway

A translucent man wearing tight red shorts

A tight red shirt

And a watch

Run out of his house and up the road

Then his face turned red, too

Two she-vampires walking their dogs

Five minutes apart

On different sides of the street

Trying to get back home

Before the sun came out

Eight Priuses

In different colors, but mostly black

A Japanese man sweeping his

Red brick stairway

Huge palms

Pink petals blowing in a breeze

After falling from a different tree

A girl jogging and smiling at me

A man and a woman

The man was walking two dogs

The woman none

They didn't smile

They didn't frown

They were only walking their dogs

On a Sunday morning

And I was listening to old Rod Stewart

When he still had pipes

Singing raspy blues

Before he got addicted to tall, young blondes

And tuxedos

And whatever happens Monday

When the week begins

I'll be happy

Thinking how lucky I am

How good it is

Walking in the hills

Am I Still Supposed To Be Here?

2009-03-03T19:45:00.000-08:00

Separation anxiety

Driving miles away to buy paper towels

I adore my new home

When I'm in the new home

Somewhat intimidated when I'm not

Why do I feel more alone

When I'm alone here

Than I felt alone there?

Walking in the hills every day

Shacks and palaces next door to each other

Steps curving up to houses on hills

Giant trees bending to meet each other

In the bluest of skies

Inspiration everywhere

Writers write

Even mediocre writers

In mediocre places

I should be brilliant

Just by stepping outside my door

But mostly I feel like crying

Curling up in a ball

On the bed

Next to the window

With the view

Here is where I belong

Where I've always belonged

It just took most of my life to find it

Why am I so sad?

Reinvention does not happen

Without leaving the past behind

People, places, history, memories

Into the trash with the books I've read

The shoes I've worn too long

So last season, don't you think?

But love is for the young

Women, anyhow

Men with money and power

Can afford it long after they should

Power is the ultimate aphrodesiac

If you have cash and a penis

Phil Spector

I rest my case

Which reminds me why I am here

Next to the freeway

In front of the mountain

Too old for a lover

Not my choice, but that's L.A.

Time to use my mind

To test my body in other ways

Can I write?

Is it illusion?

Who am I now?

Who will I be?

Writers Write

2009-02-25T19:22:00.000-08:00

Writers write

Haven't been a writer lately; good, bad or indifferent

These are the first words from my new home

I love it here, never want to leave

Maybe I'm a little bit of a pessimist today

Creativity is all around me now

Art and music and history are here

I feel them every time I look out the window

And see the 101 Freeway

The shadow of the peacock

A squirrel chasing another squirrel

Through the trees behind the pool

Outside the dining room

Hummingbirds humming in the same trees

The cat is happy chasing imaginary things from room to room

If my lover hadn't shown me his worst self

At that particular moment

Just after Christmas, just before the end of the year

And left me with nothing but contempt

If the plumbing hadn't backed up into my bathtub

the landlord hadn't been his best asshole self

At that particular moment

I would not have looked on Craig's list

Would not have seen the pictures

Falling in love with and idea, a place

A chance for me to be a writer writing again

So I thank you both, the lover and the landlord

For being who you are and who you will be

And freeing me form suburbia

From great sex

(That should have been a clue

It wasn't very good the first time around)

And nothing else

And I wish you both all that you deserve

2009-01-22T20:25:00.000-08:00

So empty

Won't you fill me?

Shiny liquid pearls across my chest

Aaaah, you missed

To Write A Song For you

2009-01-21T19:01:00.000-08:00

To Write A Song For You

The way I see it, a woman has two choices with you

She can be the one you're cheating with

Or the one you're cheating on

Neither sounds too appealing so let's just

Keep on being friends who want eachother bad

You asked me to put a pen to paper

To make some pretty words for you

But you know it's not that simple

I can't conjure up that kind of magic

Just because you want me to

I've been broken long enough to hide behind the pain

Look at me, I'm the happy, well-adjusted one

With an edge, you say, well I suppose but

No one's ever going to get inside again

I need a broken heart and ruined dreams

So I can catch the mood but

You're my friend and not my lover

You'll never understand

The pain I crave to write the words you want

You do for me and comfort me.

You always help me through

I do the same for you when you need me to

I'll give you pretty, shallow words

And my love for all your life

But not my body, not my soul,

Not poetry on demand

So wait awhile, I'll fall in love and then

I'll cry and hurt and feel the pain

The words will flow like rivers once again

Waiting Here

2009-01-14T19:00:00.000-08:00

You can only hurt me if I let you

I don't

Marry one woman or a hundred

It won't change a thing

Did you really believe someone else's flesh

Could take the place of mine?

That someone else's heart

Could make yours beat like mine?

The line between us disappeared a long time ago

I can think you to me whenever I want

Feel what you feel when you touch me

There is no me or you

We are eachother for a little while

And it's so good, so good

Flesh to flesh, it burns and I like it

We stoke each other's fires

Like nobody else ever could

And you can look forever

Or settle for less

Or try to drink us away

So do what you need to do

And when you're finished searching, come on back

I'll be waiting here

With the other half of you

Mister Jones Again

2009-01-14T18:44:00.000-08:00

I was driving and inadvertently speed dialed your number
You sounded very happy to hear from me
And it was your birthday, some Freudian slip on my part, I'm sure
We met soon after that and I was so nervous my thighs were shaking

One thing led to another and we were back at it again
Pretending it was love forever this time
Pretending we weren't going to do that thing from before
Knowing we were but nobody wanted to stop just then

"I missed you, missed this, thought I was done with this...." Me

"I missed us, we're going to be together forever this time...." You

Christmas came and I gave you my almost new flat screen television
(All right, I got a bigger one)
You forgot my gift but remembered to take me there and then
I believed you when you said we'd meet the next day
And never heard from you again

That's a lot of work for a television.
Your children must be very proud of you.

2009-01-12T19:56:00.000-08:00

I'll Be Your Muse If You'll Be Mine Part II - Unrequited Love

Want it, crave it

Can't have it

Irritation

Frustration

Speculation

Fascination

Inspiration

I'll be your muse

If you'll be mine

2009-01-10T11:26:00.000-08:00

Aging Rock Slut

Music soothes the savage beast in me

When there's no savage beast in me

I'm lost inside it

Myself is some place else, reliving, remembering

How perfect it all was

Writing now would be someone else's words

And not my own, plagiarism of the worst kind

Am I me or merely a compilation of my favorite lyrics?

Last time I really looked, I wasn't even here anymore

Didn't know who I was supposed to be

When I look in a mirror, someone else is staring back

Inside me is not that person

Looking out with pity

I only know I appear to be turning into a caricature

Not because I want to

I don't know who belongs here or what she's supposed to do

Maybe I should just dance anyhow, fuck them all

Besides, I never cared before so why should it matter now?

2009-01-09T17:33:00.000-08:00

Haiku

At home alone cold water hits my body

My bloodshot eyes fill up with tears

Last trace of you runs down the drain

I haven't been this close to love

In years

2009-01-08T19:32:00.000-08:00

I'll Be Your Muse If You'll Be Mine

I don't really want your body

Most everyone's already had it

But I wouldn't mind your heart

And soul

If only for a little while

I promise to give them back when I'm through

And some day if you're very good

Maybe you can borrow mine

Since You Disappeared

2009-01-07T17:19:00.000-08:00

Since you disappeared

One salty tear dribbled out of my eye

Trailed down my left cheek

Landed on my blouse and left a dark spot there

I sniffled twice and blew my nose

Vowed not to cry again

I joined Facebook and got eight friends in twenty four hours

Made me feel a little better

Some people don't even know eight other people

Wrote something sad but didn't cry on the paper

Wished you were a better man than you are

And wondered if I'd ever be naked with anyone again

The plumbing backed up

The landlord cursed at me and called me a bad tenant

Then the plumber said the lady upstairs flushed something

Inappropriate down the toilet

It was the first Saturday of the new year

So I went to Craig's List

(Maybe I should get a list, too)

And found some very cool places to be

Far away from your DNA

Narrowed them down to one

Signed a lease

Moving to the Hollywood Hills

Reinventing myself

Once again

I'm going to live on a very hip hill

With an amazing view of the city on one side

Of the hills on the other

But decisions must be made

Shall I sleep in the green room

Or the honey room?

Do I want to awake

To the city or the hills?

Doesn't really matter yet

I can't sleep through the night

Wake up at three AM thinking of you

One day I'm angry

The next day I want you

Just one more time

But this will pass

I'll forget you again

And next time I won't answer the phone

'Tis The Season

2008-11-30T14:08:00.000-08:00

I have been enjoying the last few days with my family and my friends, eating too much, not sleeping enough, and being grateful for the wonderful things in my life, much as I am the rest of the time. I am healthy, loved, blessed with a career that fulfills me, and live in a beautiful place.

However, some people seem to express their thanks in an entirely different way. "Black Friday", which is a very ugly name, elicits some very bad behavior across our land.

If you are not familiar with this phrase, it is the day after Thanksgiving when, for some reason, people wake up at an ungodly hour to stand in long lines waiting for shops to open so they can push and yell at eachother in order to save a few dollars on merchandise for their loved ones. I have never done this, thus don't understand the logic behind it, but many Americans consider this to be the beginning of the season honoring their savior.

That said, on Black Friday, in Long Island, New York, approximately 2,000 people were massed together waiting for the opening of a Wal-Mart store. They pushed and pushed until the front door broke open and knocked a security guard to the floor. He was lying under the feet of these people crying for someone to help him, but nobody helped. Instead they pushed eachother into the store to buy cheap products for low prices. The guard died there on the floor, and the crush of people probably didn't even get the last cheap thing in the aisle.

The same day, in Palm Desert, California, at approximately 11:30 in the morning, many people were shopping in the Toys'R'Us store. The lines were long with lots of people waiting to pay for their goods, and two women, who apparently knew eachother, got into a shouting match. This turned physical and one of their husbands lifted his shirt to expose the handle of the gun he had in his waistband.

The other husband pulled out his pistol and started firing. A running gun battle ensued, throughout the store, and both men were shot multiple times. Each of them perished there on the floor of the Toys'R'Us, in front of their wives and many other families and their children.

Life is a precious commodity and should be lived to the fullest with joy and gratitude.

Some of us seem to have forgotten the true spirit of this season. It is not about getting the best deal on the last thing before anyone else does, or who gets in line first, but understanding the amazing gift we have been given and living each day in the best way we can, and loving and respecting one another.

When you are angry or impatient, please try to remember that this is only one minute in a very long life and, by itself, it really is not that important. Those small minutes of anger and impatience have changed many people's lives forever.

Birth of a Queen

2008-11-22T13:23:00.000-08:00

Harlot Queen – A Haiku?

Magical weekend

It’s good to be Queen

Long live the Queen

The Harlot Queen

But any old queen will do