Mama's Eyes

This is the video that goes with this piece. I wrote this for class. The assignment was writing about art.


http://www.pastemagazine.com/action/paste_station?station_track=track_22556_3293&mode=normal

“To set the record straight”


Reflections are impulses

And some impose. Like,

A slight cleft must be

His daddy's chin.

He's playing a

Mean guitar,

The “Dad” model,

Capo at the fifth,

Like “Goodbye.”

The plaid western shirt,

With silky pearl snap buttons,

might be a hand-me-down

from you-know-who.

Undone

We don’t talk about it.


For so long, I didn’t know

If what I knew was true,

or if it was just

a bad dream.

You talk about the storm,

The damage,

The man,

and his son.

But it ends there.

And it’s hard to tell

If it’s a comfortable

I forgot the rest silence

Or the awkward

Unspeakable memory silence

I study your face, and

I want to ask,

But I don’t want to

make you remember if you don’t.

It gets lost like

a torch in water,

a fighter in a prison,

a weapon in a war,

a curve in a spiral,

a triangle in a web.

And it’s just like all of that,

just as meaningless because

we are who we are.

And we can’t let him own that.

Rebuttal Peaches

Rebuttal Peaches

Drag me out among the peaches
and show me who I should be.
I guess I've known it all along,
the truth is just what you see.

Finding myself in this place again
Reminds me of the peach we shared
You had half and I had half
But neither one of us prepared.

Our friendship ripened
Just like that peach.
But ripe soon turns rotten,
and at rotting we will reach.

You call me

a bitch.

I call you
self-righteous.

Not just for that comment,

I add.

But because you feel entitled to

something more

when you know damn well

who I am.

You know the fucking score.

And because you refuse to see
You refuse to admit it's true

that everything you hate in me

Resides in a part of you.

It's why you loved me,

Back when you used to.

My imperfection was key

Because it was just like you.

Now you shame me for it

And tell me to be someone else.

You want to be the hero, I get it.

But first, you should examine yourself.

What makes you better than me?

Preach ONLY what you practice.

You better be damn sure you're a tulip

Before calling me a cactus.

Besides, how could you ever claim to know
what goes on when my spotlight dims?
Smile fading into the undertow,
my painful, lifeless limbs.

I tell you that I've found myself
many times
Finding insistent irony
between your rhymes.

I saw you searching
for meaning and reason.
But you admitted too late,
When I already knew

you were pondering treason.

I stumbled on your confession
for half a second
Not knowing what to say.
But I know the answer is me,
and putting said person away.

Away from you

If only to prove

To make you see

How much you've

relied on me.

And show you the petty one

is you and not me.

You call me childish and cruel
and I ask you why you follow.
At least I know I'm me,

But that pill, you've yet to swallow.