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by Christina Park © All poems copyrighted by Christina Park
The Unknown Crying, Sweating, In a kinetic trance Thinking of you. Breaking down, breaking down to shed appearances, the appearances left over from bartering with people. I run in between the two worlds, between highways through the woods at night, on unknown roads to distant cities, down fire escapes and back alleys, to find you on the other side.
Exit One drop in a sea of human faces was my drink for a day.. ran through my body, pulsed in my skin, impressed an image upon my mind, and then became a tear touching my face leaving me with only the salt on my lips to taste.
Undertow Unaware of your approaching embrace I hang in your arms drunk with love, unable to lift my head from the tie that binds me to your neck, like shackles on a chain, like armor wrapped tight around the body, weighing me down, drowning me in a reckless sea, effortlessly pulling me down beneath the undertow.
Ricochet I came to you like scissors to a knife expecting an embrace. I came to you looking for an answer to my disgrace and found a puddle at the bottom of an empty barrel, reflecting my face. I feel the crease of your presence though you have left me behind; haunting you with my mind, I find your vacant place.
Horus He walks in silence over broken bones, bits of pain that feed his soul of lust for power, tender shocks that kill a subtle girl; her age is young, her lace is frayed and trampled on the floor he played. No one will know how to undismay her anxious fright. Let’s sit alone, lovely boyrings of questions in your hair, tangled down the dreaded locks that weave you into dry despair. I have a wet, uncontrolled river, running down my satin face, underground through secret tunnels to dark oceans under space. I am a doll you played with therethe latex curls of my hair, the heart of air, the sanded face gave you a dark and secret place. And now, my dresses, torn in shreds, strap me in an empty room. Waiting for my doom, I read your empty face. Locks of lonely pain and hate frame his Horus face. He walks around a cryptic chart, dark circles in his heart, he prays to himself.
The Kiss Blood soaked moon floating in a velvet sky watches me like a haunting eye. I’m turning to you, blood-stained lips and sacred dress, hair of black hiding your hot breath, you watch me like a vampiress. Curled beneath the hidden veil, a tongue unwinds the choking tale of lovers lost and longed for. A ring is found among the patterned twisted sheets in embroidered mounds of blankets where two lovers finally meet. A crown of rubies, glittered in a golden case, adorns the hand around my neck, as I approach her haunting face. The kiss of hunger wakes me from a helpless trance; I pant under the heavy moon and look for you.
The Finger Brittle Seamstress, designer of my fate, makes me do the sewing. With fickle tears she laughs at my distress. How many hands must you steal before you find the urge to use your own?
What Makes a Woman Desirable? A coy demeanor, near but far; a strong physique, but passive heart; a pretty smile without a care; a step above, without a stair; a private place without recluse; a clever crime with an excuse; a cross to bear that bears itself; a fire that sits up on a shelf; a cake devoured that stays untouched; a desire without feeling much.
To Desire To desire and not to be desired, kissing asphalt, lying in a pile of sweat. I cannot scrub the scent from my body; exposed in public for what I am, a shivering mammal.
Jinx Possession in a glance, a moist look from such distant eyes. A delicacy to his mental aggression, now directed at me, and his every shift in movement a fondling of my psyche. A coquettish pet I am, in the sternness of his play.
Space and Time Releasing my lifeblood into the air, My body empties under the heavy mouth of Midnight. My pulsing skin, my sweating palms, my parted lips, waiting for my lover’s response… waiting eternally, frozen by the unfathomable depth of his coldness.
I Own Hell How dare you listen to the words I speak; don’t you know that they will make you weak? They will make you deaf, dumb, and blind before I eat you from behind. You have no memory of the past, but I do. You don’t know where God is at last, but I do. You have no strength left now to laugh, but I will, when death is satisfied, and peace is still. I rise with dawn to prowl the evil ground, descend with night upon the evil found. Sleep tight, dear son, and wait for me to take the breath of life you worked hard to forsake. Justice is a beautifully cruel beast waiting for your despair at lack of peace; I hold the remedy It longs to givethe beast in me will take your will to live.
Love I’m just a pinball in space bouncing off you into some kind of madness. You’ll find no face on my hard silver surface. Trapped in a machinehow do you like it, now that you knowwe all, controlled by some impersonal lever, make each other move, helplessly, monotonously. Fuck you, you who move me; you’re just a tool for the machine driving me into a web of predestined journey. How dare you have ever met me.
The Day I Stopped Wanting The day I stopped wanting by shedding my soul, I saw my heart slip though a blood-red hole; with Voodoo, I blew out the last burning light, ‘till there wasn’t a teardrop or smile left in sight. The saviors relieved, the cannibals thrilled, the world sprang to life as my beating heart stilled, and Absence embraced my inanimate grace as an icon of impotence finding its place.
Gentle Slumbers Ashes, ashes on the ground no one was found among the ruins of this silent town, and though the hard-boiled air carried wisps of weepy fog, no one cared. Mounds of flesh and bloody faces drowning in a pool of hate lay still in the peace hell brings to those who wait for beauty. Bitter cries and shuddering echoed in a dark white sky, where no one heard, and darkness brought the one thing this place lacked-the ignorance of betrayal.
Hatred for the Weaker Things Stupid little doll; Poor, weak, defenseless little doll; Poor, little vicious dollStanding there so oblivious, You’re not even there. You’re flesh teases form and color as if you live, When you’re really just a vehicle for someone else’s power. Vicious public; vicious underground; vicious woman, why do you look so sad? Is it for lack of the voice you never had? Stupid, helpless toys I hate your innocence, for your sin is not your own, it is mine.
My Secret Passage And when I'm tired, I hide my secret Right around the corner, So you won't see all the void I have available to wander in. My secret passage Leads to nowhere, and anyplace, And has no entrance for you.
Pluto Alone again, I cower under the iron sky of jagged pain; I am ironed onto the endless asphalt pavement. Cry, Beg, Steal, Kill-I am lying on your footsteps; Go away-I have no eyes. Let me sing my tone of dissonance on this forgotten planet.
Mountain Out of a Molehill But of course, I’m just a woman, typically overreacting to Your shit on my shoes, an otherwise simple situation. Now I know what the feminists are talking aboutThe average man, making a molehill, out of Me.
Untitled The isolated girl I am doesn't welcome you into her life so you can steal her dignity and due. Averse to blame you falsely, yet averse to share my soul, the one thing I have left after the self-esteem you stole. To argue comes to nothing, to trust still nothing more than to have salt rubbed in my wound and sand rubbed in my sore... So ne'er will I acknowledge you -don't judge before you seerejection for rejection is fair revenge for me.
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