Tuesday, October 11, 2011

That Buzz

afraid i would lose my poetry buzz
i smoked weed

afraid i would lose my weed buzz
i drank some beer

afraid i would lose my beer buzz
i sat down and thot
about you

and what's not fair

like done is done

and you've not won

your one true maiden i am
you are my long lost
sailor in arms

we are each other's jailor
bail bondsman
and lawyer,

but unlike the law
we've been true,
my love,

i never want to lose
that buzz

zzzzzz zzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzz


-Bree 2011

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Where Do I Go?

Where Do I Go?

where do i go
when all i see is leaves roots dirt and snow?
when i see the mountain, am i not really
in the mountain? and if not in,
then where do i go?

where do i go
when im not in the dirt and snow?
where do i go
tell me when its cold?
where do i go when im setting
aside these ragged bones
if not in the leaves, roots,
dirt and snow?

where could i be
when i feel the cool water rushing
over me?
when im in the ocean
how come i cant really be
the ocean?

sand sticks where it shows,
so where do i go?


-Bree 2001

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Johnnycake

Johnnycake

hungry for some sweetness
but your man aint feeling right
grandma gave me a recipe
he’ll be loving you all night

one cup of sweet milk
and one cup of sour
two cups cornmeal and one cup of flour
a swig of molasses, baby, some soda and salt
and the way he’ll be acting
won’t be your grandma’s fault

when you make him johnnycake
you won’t be so hungry no more

stir it up, put it in a greased pan
and bake it up right

so you want some sugar
but your man’s feeling old and tired
grandma gave me the secret
go and get your oven fired

when you keep a man’s mouth
full, honey, he will satisfy your appetite

when you make him johnnycake
you know you wont be so hungry no more
stir it up, put it in a greased pan
and bake it up right.


-Bree 2004

Prince John

Prince John

i walk down to the graveyard again
past the japanese maples and american
flags, to where the daffodils in spring
like a carpet are spread, where the sun
pours down on both the living and dead

read in the paper you made your big deal
i still make my money behind the wheel
driving kids we cldnt raise to a primary school
i sit between stones on my axle

prince john you been gone too long
maybe you’ve found love where it don’t belong
but the sun pours down on the here and gone
as i sit by the stone of our lost little one

my stone might read
here lies a princess
whose governing body her prince caressed
before he left like a fast lane of traffic

your stone might say just how heavy you
felt in my heart that day
i cld not get out of bed
you took me in your
arms and held on, whispering magic

prince john you been gone too long
maybe you’ve found love where it don’t belong
counting daffodil petals, it don’t mean much
like being one card short of a royal flush

was a day when we both believed in a castle
are you still whispering magic?

-Bree 2011

Impersonating Fruit

Impersonating Fruit

Come with me
into an empty banana peel I found
stretched across a field
like a wide sweet hammock

Let the fibrous lining cling
beneath our skins
with irregular dips like stone
dressed in downy sprig,

I’ll slip into your stalking cap
and steer you near the stem
and bend your arms and legs
around me,

like a wide sweet hammock

I’m sure I’ll feel quite at home
impersonating fruit with you

yes I said I’m sure I’ll feel quite at home
impersonating fruit with you


-Bree 1995

What Will Become of Us?

What Will Become of Us?

i may never know your softest spot
your touchy one, but i know your calm,
your waters, your good taste in wine
and you offer me your eyes,

so i offer up my woman to your man,
still i ask you, to what prince do i cling?
what will become of our being us
as a separate thing?

what will become of our being us
as a separate thing?

you sir are all about raw energies
i snake and bend with these
even after our collapse

we resurrect in each other mad
feelings of a love that we cannot reject

still you have to realize
the gift im giving you is life
so i ask you, to what prince do i cling?

what will become of our being us
as a separate thing?

what will become of our being us
as a separate thing?


-Bree 2000

Dolly

Dolly

i was never your dolly really,
all stringy hair and laces
my legs instead are two organic
pencils hairy, that rarely look
new in stockings, my neck an overgrown
gosling’s, still my cheeks burn mauve candy for you to lick

if only they made dollies who preferred being
stuck in a corner to being stuffed with a diseased lolly pop
and another ladies misplaced hips, if only they did

if my gingham skirts werent
your obsession, darling
what haunted you most as
you buckled that other
ladies shoes?

perhaps youd remember my crooked nose whose
bridge housed spiders while you kissed her
or those grapefruits that section my legs
as together you would bathe in champaign

still my blank beetle eye click
running in place while you memorize my face

if only they made dollies who
preferred being stuck in a corner to
being stuffed with a diseased lolly pop
and another ladies misplaced hips,
if only they did

i was never your dolly really,
these rags werent made for riches
i guess i never meant to be your princess bitch


-Bree 1996

Ginkos All Long Gateway

Ginkos All Long Gateway

Ginkos all long Gateway
and Pintos in the parking lot
Ginkos all long Gateway
and Pintos in the parking lot
You know I walks all long the
wayside cause that noise and
traffic don’t stop, don’t stop

Walking Cleveland, rust them boogie
oogie on a downtown blues

Walking Cleveland, walking Cleveland
rust them boogie oogie on a downtown blues

You know, there’s ginkos all long Gateway
and Pintos where you find the room

Walking Cleveland, and I am a camera
wipe salt peter on the sky
drop my hips wide like I was Cassandra

brick them blues, pull back the pavement
breathe it in wide like a mantra

Walking Cleveland, rust them boogie
oogie on a downtown blues

Walking Cleveland, walking Cleveland
rust them boogie oogie on a downtown blues

You know, there’s ginkos all long
Gateway and Pintos where you find the room


-Bree 2006

Wet Brain

Wet Brain

wet brain, little brain
i remember you when you
kept on top of things,
measuring dreams
with a straight-edge thumb

one sip of that forbidden,
one sip and your glances
shiftless thots adrift
spread out like logs
on a river whose current you
could not combat

so now you’re on tap
but without easy access
to your embraces
or your original eyes

wet brain, little brain
you kept on top of things
now you aint the same
little brain, little little
wet brain

whats become of
whats become of
whats become of my little
little little wet brain


-Bree 1998

My Woman

My Woman

i see my woman only in enchanted moments
devinely wrapped in clothes surreal
other-worldy, timeless

and she flirts with me
rounding figure eights about my crevices
and then she laughs at me and leaves me
itching for the ghost of future
mother’s fleeting comfort of the past

and she floats in a passing breeze
on the eve of consciousness she creeps
and she floats in a passing breeze
on the eve of consciousness she creeps

my woman comes to me in reams of self-
expression, she sings in me my throat full of light
we share a cigarette, our breath interlocking
in slow tendrils, then breaking

she slips into her robe, i slip into a muted peace
but im itching for the ghost of future
mother’s fleeting comfort of the past

and she floats in a passing breeze
on the eve of consciousness she creeps
and she floats in a passing breeze
on the eve of consciousness she creeps


-Bree 1997

Bus Stop Romance

Bus Stop Romance

your neck is hot, i feel the temperature rising
you look me in the eyes, it feels appetizing
bus stop romance, never had a real chance
you know, i think that im slightly cured,
i want to leave on my pants

absolute restraint—we got it
sinners and we saints—regardless
absolute restraint

we werent churchgoers of the month last month,
still im satisfied with lunch
you been unshy with me im sure,
you know i think that im slightly cured
lunchmeat sitting in the sun,
how long you been in the danger zone?

aw absolute restraint! we got it
sinners and we saints-regardless
absolute restraint


have you been riding this line long, babe?
stick a thermometer in the sun
we got good traction on our shoes, i know
why should we ride when we can run
run run into
the sun that is rising?

your neck is hot i feel the temperature rising
look me in the eyes, it feels appetizing
bus stop romance never had a real chance
they say we aint no saints
but we can
leave
on our pants

absolute restraint—we got it
absolute restraint—we got it
we sinners and we saints—we got us


-Bree 2010

Wasn’t Dealt a Fair Hand

Wasn’t Dealt a Fair Hand

wasn’t dealt a fair hand
the first to admit
wasn’t playing with a full bag
of nuts, never bluff on an
empty sack

and never look back

so the best hand’s gone to another man
go on and play another hand
you’re on a real short stack

you’ve got no givings, only misses
what’s in your buckle now?
‘smore than wishes
play’s you go you gone
swim with the fishes

looks like the table’s yours now
well better rake it in

sweep it like a sand castle
king of table manners

you know we wont take back
what’s yours

looks like the whole rack
everything’s at your disposal
you got it all man

you know you played your stack


-Bree 2008

Come for Me

Come for Me

may not be what it seems
never while away the dreams
deep in your heart,
deep in my heart,
come for me

lapkiss, lip-beat of fingers
on keys, what key is me?
deep in my heart?
be in my key
come for me
come for me.

-Bree 2003

King King

King King

king king
some men they think they a king
thing thing
but riches don’t mean a thing

when u got nothing
then you got nothing to prove
feels like the royal blues,
feels like the royal blues

don’t spend a nickel or a dime
to show me a good time

i mean save your money
i already think that you’re sweet and funny

lets go dancing in an old pair of shoes
feels like the royal blues,
feels like the royal blues.

-Bree 2001

Smaller

Smaller

she’s smaller than she ever was,
her face is like a globe, or the expanded edition,
soft melon, cold.

her eyes hold all of her now,
the rest is hidden by a robe
that enfolds her like a whole field,

like a deflated willow, turned to soft cloth
cleansing a disc or a wound, i would rather
move further on towards that day
than remember
touching,
(touching),
that day will come soon.

even smaller then, she will fit into a glove,
she will turn to soft cloth,
and linger, linger, linger like the moon.


-Bree 2003

Death

Death

Death is the sibling who meddles
having no great thing to take his time

Death has mastered the art of teasing
no hobbies but hopping into eyes

Feigns sleep in any container thought empty
slipping into sight

Death never tires

Spends his life perfecting this game
childhood rivalry

-Bree 2003

Jazz is Dead

Jazz is Dead

Jazz is dead in the holder
weep and moan, reap and sew.
Jazz is dead in the holder,
weep and moan, reap and sew.

Jazz is dead, it has no holder
for a soul, for a soul, for a soul.

My capacity for getting high
is higher.

My inclination toowards staying
dry is dryer.

I’m on a speed chase, and
nothing’s getting near.

I no longer fear, I’m flying
I’m flying, I’m flying, I’m fine.

Jazz is dead in the holder.
Jazz is dead, it has no holder
for a soul, for a soul, for a soul.

-Bree 2003

Trombone

Trombone

You say we’re just friends
then hold me in your smile
we go for a walk
and don’t talk, for miles.

When we’re alone, just like
a trombone, you slide
right into my heart.

I try to listen to my own heart
when you say
that you don’t look at me that way,
and what I hear is just what I see,
brown eyes, singing sweet songs,
singing their love to me.

They say we’re just friends,
but why should I explain
that when the night ends
you’ll be driving me insane.

When its just you and me
its like a jubilee
oh, honey, when we’re alone
you come on just like a trombone,
you slide right into my heart.


-Bree 2000

Cat Box Blues

Cat Box Blues

Thot id landed in Fort Knox,
baby kept me in furs and rocks,
then he sailed way East babe,
he changed the locks.
Now im deep in the cat box.

Better never love a man
who treat you too good, yeah.
If he’s a real shoe, man, and he
act jes like he should.

Crazy tom will be loving his gal,
then be leaving her cold
just for not doing as she’s told.

I’m deep in the cat box,
(I’m down in it) deep in the cat box.

Crazy man shouldn’t leave his pussy
deep in the cat box.
Crazy man shouldn’t leave his pussy
so deep in the cat box.

Now im the type of kind of gal
who knows money too well.
Been high up on the bar sometimes
and also deep in a well.
Be a long time coming
till I’m sharing my milk
with another tom tied
up in silk.
I’m deep in the cat box.
I’m down in it.
So deep in the cat box.

-Bree 2005

My Ladder




u are so very glad and nice
i want to love you love you twice.
the song you write will be unsung,

i want to climb you like
a ladder
rung by rung.

the bell it sounds for each of us,
the bell i found inside your eyes
so damn soft to the touch.

the way you love makes that bell sing.
the way the bell rings makes me blush
right in the camera you stare
stone embankments
past the taker
goes your
glance in glad
enchantment comes

the undertaker,
memories of you
there goes my mind.

i want to love you love you kind.
the song you write might be unsung.
i want to climb you like a ladder,
rung by rung
rung by rung
rung by rung.


-Bree 2011

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Progress

and we all know the way
and we all see at times
but some walk the beam
while others must strive

and yet in colliding we tend
to remind one another to
lay low, to hover, and
let it all go

and to live without knowing the way.

and there isnt any age when life
eases up cuz its all the same,
we’re just different

and the leaf speaks the same
as poet or philosopher,
knowing what’s what

takes homogenous thought
and a rhythm-trained ear

for progress travels in sound
aging want for the music life
lends to the listening

-Bree 2000

Turned On

Turned on is inclusive
its more than just mind
its legs and its juices
all flowing in their time

Its notes beat out,
predicting our next move
(hey)

It’s a tiny melody
waiting in the wings.

Turned on is contagious,
it breeds more of the same.

Keep movings with these rhythms, babe.

Its more,
its more,
its yours and mine,
its fine, its fine.

Turned on is elusive,
a poem off its mind.
With words at its sluices,
they slip away sometimes,
(its fine).

-Bree 2000

First Class Citizen

I stand above a valley, peering out over
brocolli carpet, those tall trees,
waiting like a welcome mat.

I bobble back and forth, I play with death,
and then I take a step back, laughing at my naughtiness.

And I know, and I know that the climb back up’s
a hearty one, I take the bike path instead.
Smiling at the passers by, I pass on
the left, I am the first class citizen.

Don’t give disturbing thoughts encouragement
if you know what’s good for you.

And don’t heed the preacher, don’t stay in bed,
get up! Get out and live instead.

And don’t listen to your mom, don’t listen to your dad,just listen to the voices inside your head.

And don’t pick the flowers, don’t feed the bears
If you know whats good for you
if you know whats good for you.


-Bree 1996

Teacher, Thing Of Beauty

what i see
i can’t remember,
what i hear
i might forget,
when u show me
with yr hands,
like that,
u know i’ll never quit

because to learn is a thing
of beauty, once u know
it becomes yr duty
to do a thing right every
time, please do it quick!

(o, do it quick)
because to learn
is a genuine diamond
with a hardness i’m
findin hard to resist,

with my hands in a fist
i can’t take yr gifts,
o, teacher, won’t ya
school me,

please don’t be cruel to me,
so much is new to me,
all i know’s what i see
i can’t remember,
what i hear
i’ll soon forget

when u show me with
yr hands like that
u’ll find i’m not so thick
because to learn is a
thing of beauty, and yr it, it, it, it, it.

-Bree 2010