Wild Child

Wild Child

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Home Sweet Home


One day
they will realize, that you are not as solid
as the brick walls protecting them
once erected by the strength, and
the courage of your vital force.
Standing tall, you stood for
all the descendants
of a common ancestor.

Those countless brutal winters
take their toll, even on Giants.
Unintended consequences ignored
your weathered mortar crumbling, but still holding together beats
Beating whispers, of
your afflicted conscious.

Your soles should speak
exposing stories, of horrifying sensibilities
our ears never seeping, the
screaming whispers we choose to ignore
details traveling to our senses
your eyes, confessing the particulars
deep inflection, the
mirrored reflection of humanity.

Bitter is he, when
all the sweetness of life is torn away
Misery obscures judgment, yet
we judge him
he sleeps with torment
blanketed by hunger on a crisp night, yet
we torment him.
Passing him we look away
truth be told, with disdain
when his hand reaches out
terror stricken, a reminder
that HE IS US at our worst, yet
he smiles warmly, a sweet token, that
the richness of home is in the heart.

(Sculpture and poem for a show called "Outside the Margins", proceeds benefiting refugees in transition).

Sunday, February 23, 2014

This Year's Energy


The energy of the year brings out a more naughty side to me for my artistic inspiration.
A side of me that people may view as trouble. It fluctuates like the tides and it's on the rise again. A side I usually put to pen and paper. A clutter that fills my mind and that I need to release. Either way I will not hide my true nature. I embrace all of me. I will use this energy to find unconventional ways to grow my talents, to inspire, to maintain a sanity, to partake in the world whatever I am meant to share...


Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Pieces of a Man




Our friendship stemmed
from the fallen petals
of black roses, thorns
deep into our jagged hearts
thriving droplets of hope.

Spread out before me, imperfections
there was no complexity about him
Or so I thought, colorful details
at every curve, glimpsing excitement
at the thrill of possibilities.

Muses, we knew we had, a darkened hallway
led to locked doors, the right-side
of the brain, souls outlined in ink, tears
And sleepless nights: haunting things.

He divulged to me his admiration
purple hues which spilled forth
from my darkness, passion of my nature
months passed as petals fell to the earth, cupped
only by the wind of his words.

You see, there was never a facade
only the raw sting, of his words
whipping against my blushing cheeks
I have nothing to offer you: literally.

He never minced words, simplicity
in his explanation, or so he thought
As if black and white didn't make grey
Coercing perplexed crimson sentiments
scattered by my searching hand.

He was always forthright, the skeletal key
Visible, in the keyhole
No whimpering. No doubt. No regrets lingering in the shadows, 
that his hands would never tamper, with the bones
stirring in our closets.

The saddest thing, I realized
was not the power in his words, but
the worth of his hand, weighted
in every moment lost, raw feelings
nurtured in the torture of prickling thorns.

Be advised, my mind warned me
tangled vines thickly grace those cracks
Do not tip toe through the hallway barefooted
hold true to your instincts, STOP!
Sneaking around in the dark.

I asked my myself, Are you sure?
Yank the key straight out, and
See the light, your own hands
holding the calavera: sweetness.
Pieces of a man, this puzzle: a thorn.
Meant to be, to blossom.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Book of Men


The Book of Men reflects "stories" from her life and relationships. She writes from experiences in a natural voice that anyone can understand. I believe one of the most natural reads for me since I started reading poetry. Her feminine viewpoint is quite insightful to the male viewpoint, understanding what most women can't about the male psyche, even experienced women. The book is not all testosterone driven though. She touches on the vietnam war, pop icons like superman, music icons like Cher and the Beatles, and her mother's dementia (a topic close to my heart with my father). Dorianne allows us to connect with her on an equal playing field as if we've been there and done that too. There is something that everyone can connect to. If you haven't you most certainly will experience some of these normal life experiences that she uniquely shares in a sometimes humorous voice. This is my first time reading poetry from Laux and the first time I didn't feel overwhelmed in trying to understand it's meaning. Does that mean it's superficial? No. It means she writes fluidly and simply but by all means is not simple. I look forward to reading some of her older books. I know, maybe I should have read them in sequence and than again regressing might be quite enjoyable. I definitely recommend this book, especially if you enjoy men! 

-Liz

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Inter Nos...




While the knight was on his way
to perform his basic duties in life
the Queen’s thoughts were engulfed by the memories and sensations
imposed on her.

In her world she functioned and performed her duties
as was expected of her
as she was dedicated to doing
out of the love in her heart and the honor she lived by.

For so long she lived without real love
had lost the love of her king
to the dedication of his duties to his realm
ignored and abandoned to be a mere subject, like any other in the castle.

Until one day in the King’s absence
the knight had to report to duty, to the Queen
it was his first time meeting the Queen in person
the minute he laid his eyes upon her, her beauty overwhelmed him.

Their eyes met and locked into a long glance
he thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen
she was more than a mere Lady, Princess, and Queen
she was a Goddess, ethereal and heavenly, he knew at that instant that he would love her forever.

The Queen realized through their glance that the knight was special
she knew she would let him into her world
that lacked love, laughter and companionship
with honor in his heart, he treated her with the dignity that she deserved knowing he may never join her pedestal.

They met privately in her chambers to share intimate moments
he passionately loved her and she embraced him with her heart
she opened her mind to what he had to offer
her soul ached to feel the intensity of a deep love for him.

Until one day, the realization of what was came to fruition
she could no longer continue the façade of what could not be
their lives were not in the same place to coincide
she knew in her mind she had to deny herself the passion.

Their private moments together were few but special
the last time they made love they both knew something had changed
they could see it in their eyes and feel it in their hearts
tears ran down their faces and their lips quivered.

Slowly the scene changed from their magical private moments
To her world of solitude and self seeking fulfillment
She would once again find solace, somehow
In herself and her quest for life’s meaning.

As she watched the knight ride on his horse from her tower window
he disappeared further and further into the forest
her heart weighing heavily because she knew the pain to be faced
with the last traces of his kiss on her lips.

She knew how empty his cup had been; hers had been as empty too
she knew he was special, he would think otherwise
she gave herself to him; he took that with him, just as she kept him
And, her world would never be the same.


Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Damsel in Distress P13. Ending


Who is supposed to be my friend? …
And…
Actually love me?  According to him…
He reaches in to hug me…
I don’t fight it…
He embraces me tightly…
And warped enough, lovingly I guess…
For about 10 minutes this continues…
Words of endearment…
Caressing my hair…
I barely move or breathe for that matter…
Freezing cold…
The warmth of the hug feels good…
Bringing my body back to life…
Feeling a bit of vigor return…
Suddenly…
This feeling overwhelms me…
The urge to hug him back…
I find the energy to lift my arms and wrap them over his shoulders…
He sighs…
“I’m so glad you’re not angry with me”, he says with relief…
I nod my head no…
Squeeze him tightly…
He revels in the hug…
Kiss him on his cheek…
Then, in one fast sweep…
I grab his neck with both hands…
Step back and pull his neck down…
With all my strength, I knee him in his groin, bring his head further down and knee him in his skull…
Knocking him out completely…
Falling to the ground with one big thump…
“Fucker!” I say with anger…
He lay there lifeless…
“Motherfucker!” I scream, as I kick him in his side…
“Who the hell do you think you’re messing with?”…
“Nobody brings me down, without self-inflicting debris!!!”…
“Bitch Ass Motherfucker!!! Take that! …
I pace back and forth…
Ranting to myself…
I somehow gain my composure back…
First things first…
I need clothes! …
I unbutton his shirt…
Roll him around enough and pull it off from him…
Dress myself in it…
I want to just dump him in the river…
I contemplate…
He would definitely drown…
Serves him right! …
I start to drag his body…
I can barely do it; I’m so weak right now…
Drag his body over by the poles, as best I could…
No…
He’ll suffer more this way…
Tied up both his writs to each pole…
In case he comes to…
There will be no repeat, of any kind of anything tonight! …
What next? …
I reach in his pockets for a phone…
He has got to have a phone…
Yes! …
I find it…
I think to myself…
I have to do this…
Courage…
Be tough…
I’m sorry, my friend…
But…
You are no friend! …
Your turn…
To live in a horror story…
I dial 911…
It rings…
“911, how may I help you?”…
Pause…
Take in a deep breathe…
“Yes, I’d like to report a crime”….