songanddancegirl

leitmotif blues

this is so hard  harder than leaving childhood  epiphanic  but

life ahead from here  backside of the mountain  to where?  25yrs

in the tall yellowhouse  mouldering   35  in smouldering marriage

today many handymen ransack +amok  trying to match paint and

patch scars  one pipes in  just hide the cracks  bringing to mind the

Japanese art of  Kintsugi

the beautiful breaks  humpty-gold in the cracks  dumpster at the ready

for my treasures +me   but  HARK!  the faint leitmotif breaks on thru

i’ve heard it before

my soundtrack

my argument

my question

my fate

if one more faux stoic says: amor fati   i will shiv em   your fate is not a

burden if you embrace where you came from  despise your origin story  you

rot  my old mother did (not rot) often saying: we were poor but always had food

she said that to all the fancyladies at the rez   they who pranced in their diamonds

+deshabille  shouting  WE LIVED IN WESTMOUNT!   well you ain’t living in

Westmount anymore       bitches

why can you never step into the same river twice grasshopper?  by the end you

cannot find the same river  or any river   your leitmotif   your thesis  is now your

final breath  when for the first+last time  you truly live in the fucking moment

+ btw  fuck Ram Dass

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..we do not rush toward death  we flee the catastrophe of birth  

survivors struggling to forget it  fear of death is merely the projection

into the future of a fear which dates back to our first moment of life..

(Emil Cioran  1911-1995)

Spring 2025     let my people go Dathan!

apes of wrath

it’s a place where everyone says  i hope you never return

i hope you never see me again    instead of namaste

there is no peace  in these rooms

i heard screams+crying in the night  a demented childwoman

shuffled  in terrycloth robes  ratty  fragrant with fecal  we heard

her cry again  when we visited the replacement surgeon

ours having fled to Greece  where the bones of Seneca  moulder

You will not die because you are sick   but because you are alive

i lost my thrill in those rooms  dating back to 17

at mother’s vivisection  byebye joie de vivre  did i ever have a shred?

hmmmm  brief moments in Cali  when i still believed in the BIG SUR

of  Miller Kerouac Liz Smart    by Nepenthe i sat down and wept

..she was like a beautiful dinner left out overnight..she was sumptuous

but the guests were gone..    James Salter  Light Years   1975

fools live their lives backwards  and of a Sunday morning  google

an old whore  who bilked your dazzling father  who raged like a bull

of his youth   +his last semblance of saintly

___

Winter 2025  ..why u so smart Seneca the Younger?…🏛🏛

a way above my head i see the strangest sight

hole in heart  pierced through  to the quick  underneath all

is the gut  fucking  punch  of brain cancer  this cancer odyssey

rips you apart  +pieces you back together  as if  you are still yourself

but you are  NOT  +never will be  ever   yet underneath the blood

yoke staples radiation burns  a new poet emerges  part forestsprite

part crone  stoic ju bu   (thinking caps on.. you can decipher this!)

you rise  un-humpty   2000+yrs ago Aurelius said: i am an old man now  

it’s time to stop being a slave  to no longer be pulled along like a puppet

on strings  to stop being dissatisfied with today  and afraid of tomorrow 

oh she is tired  a watery sun warms her old poetparts   a bitter wind licks

her  in the slits  where her coat doesn’t give cover  she listens to the leafless wind

no birds   a quiet freeze   you cannot extinguish me     motherfuckers

girl woman crone cadaver skeleton bones twigs nests bugs frogs stray cats in the

family garage  saddles  a brother’s real  birth certificate  a rusted out used car

how did her old parents ever clean out that house?  both spent+breathless  +free

recent missive from the heavens where parents float..

where a Chagall fiddler fiddles  ..over old wine+old bones 

__

Winter 2025 ..free llirpa snikta..🕊

one more once

🖤 Lee Atkins  1921-1989  RIP 🖤

daddybird put me on a horse at 3   grab the mane!

said he   there was no saddle   he walked close by

in cowboy boots   Jewish John Wayne

The Rifleman  my favourite tv show back then  Mark

the Rifleman’s son  my 1st love interest  cowboy father

knew   +took me to see him  at the rodeo

never been so excited  since   father’s big manbody beside me

fragrant+paco rabbane   Mark on his horse  the bull’s butts smeared

with feces    DAD WHAT IS THAT??     (almost the best part)

hey daddybird come back!  +walk with me through the

shit abyss of my   late 60’s   morass   childhood a cakewalk

compared to this        or was it?

__

Winter 2025  ..poet soon Lee’s age..when he died..dig it?

a desperate poem?

throwing away dustcolonies  paperclips  your treasured

psychiatrist’s obit  from 20 yrs ago  dr. sugarplum fairy

died in her sleep

snatched by the Reap  as we worked on child-client’s deeps

burnings starvation young molestation  in addition to fantasy

scenarios re: my other mother’s soon (?) sleep

a hypo?

eye of newt?

her suffering this life

often prolonged

intense  +unbeautiful

what will it feel like when your dustmites are all dead?  they who

are piled in every crevasse  in moist piles under your bed  throwing

away your old identity  your once vibrant debauchery  chérie

and yet  this is NOT a desperate poem  desperate is refusing to let go

clutching your mites mightily   they don’t even love you  they just quietly

go about the business of  succubus+asthma

HARK !  in the midst of the shit abyss  a creeping feeling of lightness

of lift off   as the door to the final 3rd creaks open  you walk  barefoot

+mitred 👑  now Queen of Mites  Queen of Battleaxes   near and far

__

Winter 2025  ..and freedom..oh freedom..

my final quarters will be: 84 x 28 x 23 or thereabouts

..fate guides the willing but drags the unwilling..(Cleanthes 300 BC)

..if you resist becoming conscious fate will take you kicking  and

screaming    EVERYWHERE   (C.G. Jung 1957 CE)

why is downsizing so apocalyptic to the newly aged?  fired from

a cannon into the hardcoldworld  days numbered  mysterious hairs

sprout on a girl’s face

a sweet nephew has already put in dibs on plucking them  shame i

placed my Bubba’s chicken-pluckers into her 98 yr. old daughter’s

casket  forgetting that not only would i never see my mother’s body   again

i would never see said  chicken-pluckers  or her yellow catseye

sunglasses  mother met her Maker  as she lived  a stylinbitch

with  witchy tendencies

yesterday poet went to sign her lease  on  life away  an old

(somewhat)  spiffed up   apartment  on the way  husband #3

assured her:  i am inches from a psychosis

what she really wanted to do was   BOLT   bolt the doors

bolt herself  into the past   in a 5 story townhouse  laden

with detritus  +dustmite deshabille

time to flee!  yet there in the distance  the dirty picaresque

windows  (a sales feature they dangle for 7k a month)  OH THE

VIEW IS TO DIE FOR!     revealed 6 tiny birch trees

fragile

pure

cold

+lost

just like me

downsize this motherfuckers  after a lifetime spent clutching

furniture +your dead father’s blue deckshoes  you come to realize

that you cannot refuse the final  box 

whose feature sheet promises:

darkness

sweet silencio

+numerous

furryfriends

__

Winter 2025  ..after nirvana..

a somewhat violent poem about art & the blues

some girls prance around the AGO like

the risen Georgia   some girls slink like

the splayed goatvagina  Picasso sculpted

my own preference is to cavort  like

Martha Graham💃🏻(spoken in your best

mid-atlantic accent)

today a man approached +asked: do you

dance?  i kicked him hard  in his Rodin

sized penis  visible thru blue tights

all the while a pallid Joni Mitchell wannabe

warbled  blighting Canada  Joni’s birthplace

kicking leg all a-twitch  poet yearns  for  the bubble

watching hoops  7 hours a day  her blue period

as millions died of the spiked one🔆 the one no one

will speak of anymore   except some sick chickens

__

Winter 2025  ..the blight light returns..🐔🐔

the truth is out there

i have likely been reading too much wisdom literature

and it is seriously messing with my approach to Nirvana

which is clearly not simply  a blissful ludded-out state

where chubbycherubs  with tiny penises  massage your ego

into submission   Nirvana it turns out  is  knowing your true

nature  +transforming  into yourself   over a lifetime

though you have been told who you are  or should be  by every

tom dick +hairy bastard you meet   the world will ask you  who

you are  +if you don’t know  the world will tell you  (C.G. Jung)

Nirvana is also  coming to know the world as it  really  is   ie., not

the delusional:  happiness certainty +immortality (but only if you’re good)

version of life  modern humans are taught to expect   on demand

why not shift the focus then  to some of our modern day  sages+holy fools

you can’t always get what you want   everything is broken   i dont believe

in Beatles  and let us not forget   if you miss it  you miss it!

the truth might be out there  but something has been eating away at me

since my big bros cancer odyssey  a sharp pain in me side  appendix +knifelike

it’s probably  the truth  which has clearly  NOT  set me free

freedom shmeedom  what sets you free  is  rising  above the  truths  which

really are not truths at all  in the happilyeverafter shit show we find ourselves

in    fer chrissakes!   freedom should taste of  reality 

just ask  a slave

a camp survivor

your dying 98yr old mother

on her liberation day  the bravest

day in all her life    (i told you dummies i was gonna die!)

__

Winter 2025  ..welcome to the new+improved nirvana..

i am a poor wayfaring ape-sie

not a prisoner of  i can’t won’t could should would   didn’t 

DID   more a sailor jerry girl  striped maillot  muscles  curves

fabulous glasses  skulltatts

a punkbeckythatcher☠️  take me to the river  time to leave the

old yellow house of dreams: largesse (never before has a girl

wanted/had  morrrre!)  happiness  grief  cancer  death    TREES    BEAUTY

i will light out for the territories!

post-pandemic lack of civility  a meanness in this world  hipsters

in OVO🦉 leave piles of purebredshit  EVERYWHERE   a brother

escaped to a higher plane  where the elderly levitate

and the lobby showcases the embalmed  Audrey/Holly/Freda  i will go there

i have been promised a pet hawk  a cure for cancer  where the ghosts of

my parents  who lived on the 10th   rattle+hum rattle+hum

and place brother’s

slippers

in odd configurations

A   p   r   i   l  l  l  l  l  l  l  l  l  l  l  l  l  l  l  l  l

a bit like Emily Brönte’s pitiful

H  e  a  t  h  c  l  i  f  f  f  f  f  f  f  f  f  f  f  f  f

i will be

moorish   +free

__

Winter 2025   ..leave me be..i’m busy packing..

my last raptor 🦅

harbinger of what?  winks at me  from across the street

i see his underbelly  as i stretch on the floor beside windows

greywhite  migraine skies   everyday

hawk oblivious  glide swooooops  lands on the railing   door ajar

talons twitch  i’d love a piece of this bitch   poet in a downward

dog   spiral

new year beckons  rhinestone cowgirl boots  glint   hawk lifts

me up   by elvishair   i always thought   i’d like it up there  and

i do    hawktalons   tighten on poet’s wrist      byebye

__

Winter 2024  ..poetbird rising..🧚‍♀️