Poetry

I Can’t Be Bled

I love meditations and vibrations of my skin in the cold grocery store aisle.

Life is good.  Even crying I love.

Ear massage by my tears

swing down to the jawbone

to trace tracks of tears so slow.

 

I’m more confident now coming through the clouds

of fallen jokes

like I can show my face after all

live life in a canyon

like oh life is rich

 

though no hay for my bed

I can’t be bled

blood is for family and for spirit brethren.

I split bread with those closest

and make eye contact with those passing

Temperature Patrol

I just slid out of bounds like I’m a softball player couldn’t catch a ball without a somber prayer that used to be my vehicle of self esteem hardly put a put-put in the sputnik of my dreams live in a dreamworld? Man, it’s nothin what it seems Just rely on yourself or take a […]

Bless Us Confess Us (2005)

Magic in plastic we toss and we spoof like it won’t come around in groundwaters, pots and crops, sons and our daughters’ stools, spools of thread connect specimens like we dread complex web interconnected but it has been said we’re too much in our heads. Bless us confess us our undoings cruelly dispassionate conduct we […]

Picture a holiday

2005 Picture a holiday Where you’re exiled from the news Able to adopt a life of reverence and Paid to pen the script. Wild equipped with no severance In sight it’s like white horses galloping in the crests of waves. Close saves and close quarters save quarters and loosely coined phrases.

Upturned

Written by Sukie Keita, 1995 Please view the choreography inspired by this poem. Mask the cracked pepper eyeball red underneath thirty lashes of salty assault. Ask what’s wrong just don’t demand no smile and shine, nothing to upset her sand blasted finish.