Hey, Read A Poem Whydonchya!
I Have No Business Here
A collection of poems by Brigitte Emmons
A Better Man
A better man did woo
The four hectares sold as ten
Half that number would have been enough
If only lifeguard ropes were red
And risks weren't cut like cliffs.
So up is down, and down is up
Her mirror-wheat never moved with the wind
A hint: tickled pink to rubbed raw
Rain and sun tried, too
Fooled blue.
And on the grass he thought was air
He dropped three times to meet the sea
Once for love
Once for hope, and
Once for relief.
A Remembering
No more strict or lenient than nature intends,
All my grandmothers, brave as they are
Cannot drink the water
They don't understand how it ended
Braided too tight to vanish completely
Now just mumbo-jumbo
All my children, bright as they are
Do not understand why the emerald pool
Tucked up behind the cliff dwelling
Remains roped off from the public
KEVBO WAS HERE, CLASS OF '84 ROCKS
The tree did not survive
All my memories, soured as they are
Still hold dear the whispering fireflies
Conspiring to take over the night
And live forever
All things end.
All Wars are Religious Wars
Debris
Such a funny word
Like bris, but not
Like twisted metal
And stiff whispers
"Our thoughts and prayers are with you."
While you march on, toward landfill bodies
Also killed by the thoughts and prayers
Of heretics who were never going with you.
War
Such a funny word
Like we were, but not
Like a hate so deep it burns the breasts of
Mothers who want only to go in your place
Humanitarian aid could've been a casserole
But now is water, dropped with caution
To quench or rinse cave paintings
Of generations that stop with you.
God
Such a funny word
Like gone, but not
Like a hand reaching out, desperado gray
Just beyond the border fencing
Where soldiers watch 'til grasping stops
All fleshy flags point up
What heavens will want you after this?
What Valhalla shores could welcome?
I ask, who will you be on this day but
Debris in the War against God.
Amazing
Was blond, but now can see
How fit as a fiddle
Was round in the middle
Quite invisible
To crows, who don't wipe their feet
And peck apart the miles-per-gallon
Delusions, pushing
That sloppy jalopy
To buy a ticket to a new horizon
She calls it Iceland to keep them away
From the black sands
And turquoise depths
Where finally, finally, finally
Wisdom can let herself down
And giggle, oh the continents
That she can connect
Just by using her soft arms
And Grace.
And Another Thing (A Poem About Cows)
I never spoke cow, 'til now
Patchwork busy, I see her
Sharp hips poke, like knuckles
Like clothespins on a crooked line
She swats a bee with a shit-soaked tail
Sweet pleasure, ruminating along.
Presently, more cows come to chat
'Bout this and that
'Bout how their fat is more about being big boned than anything else
It is a brief exchange, under the radar
Dressed benign.
Methane floats, like root beer
Feed me, breathless
I don't slow down, you bellow
Flies and acid rain and no memory of life
Before, when we only gave to each other
Suspicious sideways glances.
Brown cow!
You've come for the ozone!
Cunning cheeseburgers and wallets, all
Lakes of salty broth for me to drown in
Well someone should, discuss the deadlock
Beseeched heifers and multiplying me.
I've crossed a field, confirmed that
My avoided life won't register
On the Noble-Scale, is co-insurance and taxes
And plastic dreams and chewing
Why can't I get a decent haircut when I pay a goddamned fortune and bring photos
My sharp hips poke, like knuckles.
Breakfast With Tiffany
Piping hot
On gibbous buns
Breakfast bells
Are ringing
While mornings push
The mountain air
O'r pores still wet
From clinging
Songs of young
And songs of old
Will know of which
I'm singing
Canoes
Simple, silent
Mine is forged of elements, too
Cellulose and water
Agree, for a time, as one
To take the strokes we learned
From skimming books
Swiftly, minor variances like functions
Accumulate until I get the picture
All of us in vessels
Separate, we had only now
To practice for the birth and death
Of rivers rushing, peppered with canoes
And people portaged like metaphors
Preoccupied, what else could you do?
Could I do?
We did put best and I'm not mad
Just glad I floated here
For one sweet second
Beside what was familiar, and also
Ever changing
Cold
Can cold radiate, she asked already
Googling
Next to me in the truck
Can it change a lightbulb?
Can it make tea?
Who cares, it's just
Cold
Can cold radiate, I wonder later
Pondering
While scraping a windshield
Can it give off a feeling?
Can it cause pain?
Who cares, that I'm red
Hot
Cold radiates, I decide too late
Answering
In hateful comments
About the tent city under the bridge
Trapped under a dome of steam
Bouncing around
The homeless souls
Indifferent
And so,
Cold
Consciousness
Fox scratches, his right ear has needs
Moss pauses, her forest has been singing
Soft-throated dirges renew old water
Vibrating, in rearranging mud patterns
These hymns of death are layered Earth
A looping cry, our mother's birth
In new fawns and new dawns
That grow, imploding into light stars
To burn within us
This breaks Me, crushes thoughts of Me
Bones buckles under bows of
Balsam scented understanding
I make a tea, and put it in our body
My sweet communion here
So fleeting, the seasons want to teach
A morphic dance, I sense no lonely Ones
Inside my soul, we've just begun
To be it all, in stillness.
1/25
Connected, A Short
Talk, talk, talk - I always do
To justify how you sleep through
My starry dreams and sunrise hues
Pretending it wasn't expected.
I tell them you have a brain disease
That lets you dictate as you please
Which hours to ruin and how to freeze
Sweet joy from my corner, dried hopeful.
I must fly first into a room
Assess the vibe, set up a loom
That spins excuses for your gloom
Exhausted, so anxious on your behalf.
For I need you to be okay
Despite the most horrific way
I let you eat me.
Desert Hallucinations
Rinpoche, I'm tired of these stones
All shaped like Idaho
It's the same, all the same, repeating
My skin as hot as lava under the sun.
Rinpoche doesn't want to hear it
Then look away, he snaps
Aren't those your eyes in that head of yours
Heated and alive
So Be That!
Rinpoche, I'm afraid to be abandoned
Good-byed, the lone witness
At the end of all days
Unconsoled.
Rinpoche wants my full attention
He taps my knuckles with a cholla branch
You are already suffering and doing fine
It all happens, unevenly
Sweetened by bodhichitta
So Be That!
Rinpoche, I've distracted myself
Looking for signs
Of happiness and meaning between the cracks
And collisions I barely intended
Have I gone too far for Concern?
Rinpoche is impatient
Being happy and having meaning are not the same
Your moving feet are a parable about
Preciousness, suffering and impermanence
So Be That!
Tomorrow we will walk some more
And you will become gratitude.
Experience Comes from Making Bad Decisions
Not life threatening
In hope, please open your eyes
Hardwired along the edge, flat footed
Pretending, you do not fly
Until you do!
Like tree seeds turning, and
Lead ball bearings
Scattering, the blood soaked blades of grass
Will grow
Food Is Love
It's hot, whipped and high
It's meaty, salty, dry
I scrape the bowl and plate it up
I wash your fork and favorite cup
You smile and touch your belly
I rub my hands together and lean in for the kiss
Dessert, anyone?
Here's What Ya Do
Like wilting leaves
And passing clouds
And the smell of apples
Come back.
Like breaching whales
And mountain goats
And brave new worlds
Fly high.
Like campfire tales
And recipes
And graying bones
Pass on.
How Not To Die of A Brokern Heart
Sweep
Hard, do all your cleaning aggressively
Pull out the dust and the dead skin
From under the tapestry
Toss it into the air like confetti
Shop
Hard, for an overpriced something
Marvel at all the pointless detailing
Laugh at its ridiculousness
And impermanence
Then, return it for a full refund
Squeeze
Hard, the giant tree behind the barn
Beg her to tell you why this happened
And how it feels to lose a limb
And not let go of the earth
Then close your eyes and imagine her burning
Surrender
Hard, to the sound of a single heartbeat
And only one set of lungs
Laugh at the ridiculousness of your own devotion
To impermanence
An then close your eyes
And feel yourself burning
I Had Some Rocks Delivered - A Taoist Parable
Some say ya either got it or ya ain't
Alight with joy and wonder
You here for me?
Could be! 'Nevah know!
The day's teacher, old as dirt, toothless
Chocolate labs for eyeballs
Chasing questions off the grass
Is a personal check alright?
Could be! 'Nevah know!
No concrete came that day, only rocks
For me to shape as I pleased
His lesson revved, ready to deliver
Might rain. Might noht.
Dinnah time?
Could be! 'Nevah know!
If the Russians don'attack
And 'donrunoutta gas
I'll make it home to the missuz
'Nevah know!
All options, perfectly acceptable
His life is boxes with red ribbons
I cocked my head
No more certain than before he came
It was time to pick my spot
How about HERE? Is this okay?
My brain saw all the wrongs
But the sun had places to go
And so did this marvelous moment
Could be! 'Nevah know!
It's Okay
Do you sing to yourself at the break of dawn
Start each day with a stretch and yawn
Boogie down fifth avenue
In your imagined runway, fair and blue
Do you model patches with attitude
And kiss the clerk who's sometimes rude
And give the jerk the time of day
Make sure red squirrels are a-okay?
There, there.
Just start with a sandwich, in aluminum foil
And walk it down the street
See the jerk in your favorite shirt
The one that reads
"He's gone. Seventeen weeks now. I am so lost."
Hug yourself
Hug yourself
And hug yourself again.
I'm In A White Dress
I police the shore
And monitor the propane tanks
I point out sloppy knots
And oil the teak table
I hover
There's too much slack!
Wipe that 'fore it leaves a mark!
On the dream
Someone else is having a turn
Like I did
But not like I did
And so, I walk the property
And opine on the wind's direction
And the price of wood
I am wearing a white dress
And nobody hears me
I Have No Business Here
What about all that
We can't talk about
While you know
That I know
That you know
How to shoot off
Your toes, one at a time
Because reaching out would destroy you
Whose turn was it
Speak truth!
About the pieces of your body
That you remove to feed, the beast
Is me sometimes when pointing
And so it goes
I have no business here
Miss Sayward
Oh, Miss Sayward
Where did you place
Your century-old opinions
'Bout toothpicks at the table
And Thank You Notes
You packed so quickly
I was afraid you'd forget
Your yellow scarf, the trumpet's call
Announcing your independence
Should it ever be questioned
You overfed those cats
And asked their opinions, but never mine
"I need her more than she needs me"
You said, on Christmas Eve
We both knew what you were talking about
I loved to watch your pride relax
Melting in a hardy laugh
But only after my talking-to
About the hand I offered, and you did take
With blue eyes and a flourish
And on that morning, just two doors down
It snowed enough to make it new
We carried you, that one last time
Through all of our birthdays
And the names of our children
And photos of Sam, with respect
Oh, Miss Sayward
I saw how you placed
The chair that faced the setting sun
And all the earth you kept in your pocket
Maybe you knew I loved it, too
And so, you had my opinion
1/25
Organic Matters
Spring loaded
Red, white and blue, woke
Words are the cruelest
Greek chorus
Of skinless bulbs
Unhardy, unhappy
When it's warm, mud
Flies, oh!
The revealed fields
Labeled yet untended
Spoiled but alerted
Everybody is going to die
Eating righteous air
Starved for the sun
Like a daughter
Who's long forgotten, naturally
Growth needed water
Particles
If it's true
Then what has meaning
And what is lasting
And why do I buy shares
Of stocks in you, unproven
Matter is suspended
See me walking here, tangible
Flavored and textured
As if it makes a difference
Did we just touch and taste?
Suffer and waste?
Looking down when we could
Have seen the sun's moons
Through half-closed, quite temporary
Eyes made from cells that fathomed
What I did, too
And yes, my love
It's true
Sixty Years
He remembers the sound it made
It came to life
Like fire
Eating paper
When light
Transformed a blackened heart
With promises
Of warmth and futures melting
Loneliness
The quiet hours at her bedside
Were not roses
They were diamonds
That set her path ablaze
So she could travel there
And leave him
Something In The Way He Moves
It was indirect
Not directed at you
Just direct communication
Set adrift
To be found and translated
SEND HELP (Stranded)
SEND LOVE (Frightened)
SEND FAITH (Violent)
It was indirect
Not directed at you
Just meant for someone
Who spends time in the sea
Looking for bottled messages
To drink from
Something to Chew On
It's not like you to eat so much
What coverings
Buried deep
In acid folds
Ferment
I wonder how this happened
That you eat words
And I cook words
And we don't talk at all
Souls
Take notes
This life is one of many
Learn
To let go
What was never yours
And never will be
And it's okay to laugh about it
About what?
That you were born knowing
And then you forgot
The Alphabet
I can see her TV from my window
Elmo is teaching "The Letter B"
But she doesn't have children
Let her be
For we are circles on circles
Of human energy
Be-ing
Maybe she likes the reassurance
Brave. Beings. Breath.
Has been brought to you by "The Letter B"
So, let her be.
The Artist
You're an addict
Words, inked around your neck
Revealing freshly tired stories of a life
Not static enough to hold itself
Still along your backside, this hide
The truths get colored in, instantly
Misspelled, this medium
Social work-in-progress sleeves, like armaments
So blue, they're green
Light it up and call it art, then
See if I care
Why, but beg my eyes to trace you
Lines, thick and pointless
Narratives aren't fair when
You get to call everything, in permanence
False
The Deacon's Tea
I shunned the lot, freshly unconfused
Like Shakespeare sonnets turned aside
My furrowed brow beguiled, then
Triggered fear - miles from good
Oh me, once I did dare to stand
Beyond the praying heads, horizons came
Not mountains after all!
Just light, where we could collect ourselves
And right on time you came to call
Baskets of begging, sent to stop me
From pouring tea for anyone with a mouth
Hot concern for my vulnerability
Yet I do love you still, and will
Keep one cup so high, postponed
Safe from the silhouette of you, now
An Easter Parade, once my old friend
Ten million kitchen tables, sincere
Do hold their breath in meditation
A learning; just be a slob that sips
To peace, and taste its understanding
The Fortune Teller
You, see here!
Mistake no rule for softness
Not these forces, depleting
Sweet minutes, clustered laurel pink
Held breath prolonged only one tenth
Begotten inevitable.
Weeds grew, bent true
Toward all the stars imploded
When yesterday was fifty years
Echoes just the same, now strange
In halls once built to hold
You gave your arms for the cause.
Consent wooed hard
She and he, then he and she
They will go with mine
Distracted moments did sing against
Gated ruins are still ruins
Oh, hush now- hush now, and return
Wrapped in forever.
The Lunch Date
I made it! Better late than ugly!
I know someone exactly like that.
I remember the time when I...
I want everything on the side.
I love how my job doesn't feel jobby.
I don't let those things get to me.
I said oat milk.
I went dairy free last spring.
I wouldn't cut my own hair.
I use a straw to drink my coffee.
I have perfectly white teeth, see?
I can't stay, I have a class.
I never burn, I tan.
She pauses to suck coffee through a straw.
Shocked from the silence she expects me to do something about, words form.
There once was a gold finch who pecked at his reflection until he died.
I don't get it.
I know.
This Pain, Will It Pass? (I Saw Her Darkest Day)
She whispers something
And pushes off
The shoreline
It is a blaming finger
That follows the unfamilar
Landscape is heartbreak
She pushes off
With hopeful strokes
Faithfully knowing
Love means
She pushes off
From that place
Since no one stands
On shifting ground
It is better to float
Where fire stops
And waiting begins
She whispers something
And pushes off
The Red Cape, My Stoic Friend
Guardian of all the children
Without tongues, just eyes
Absorbing nasty days, awaiting
The World's First Born
Your boots hit the concrete much too hard
You are forty arms, all swords
Signing, sweeping, swift
Incomplete, completely
Alone with bleeding
Not one soul can know, no
For this is yours to bare, stripped
So you say to yourself, The Only
One to hear.
That Sinking Feeling
Of babies in bubbles
And giggling fathers
Carrying warm water in
Palms
Of pans piled high
And sauces gone dry
While wine is rinsed with
Songs
Of blood-soaked skin
From the bleeding within
And the everythings that went
Wrong
Two Fires
Crack!
The fire rages, inside
Snoring dogs soaked
Monologues, in total darkness
Your lips move
Channeling a warrior
Who has never lived here
Crack!
Why don't you bend over
Backwards, 'til both tongues touch
To lick hot words
You said you'd say
Next time, and you give windshields
A piece of your mind
Crack!
We Have The Same Hair
Corkscrew curls on a pointy face
A heart of gold, at one with Grace
Why are you a teacher?
Why am I a mother?
Why can't I stop
Staring?
Is he yours? you ask
No, he has always only belonged to himself
But, we have the same hair
Well, There's THAT
2023 was a shit sandwich
Served with a side of shit chips
And a shit pickle
And what did all of that have to do
With me
What can anyone do about a rough year
There's that nervous chuckle
And that blessings recount
It can always be
So. Much. Worse.
That's always gonna be true, ya know
And secretly, I mean
Come on
I'm wearing pajamas
On a Tuesday afternoon
Knock it off
That chronic positivity in the face of adversity
I can't down that
Overblown, saccharine sweet
Shit milkshake
What's New?
Pussycat
Pussyfoots
Dodging questions
Elevator speech
Sound bites
Work best
Avoiding
Tip-toe through
Clichéd gardens
Nipped too early
Control the narrative
When Green Turns Gold
We're all waiting
The fir trees always
Get the best seats
Their arms are open
And so are mine
I close my eyes
To watch the show
As all turns pink
Then green
Then gold
Like the cell walls
That hum along
To a chlorophyll verse
About a morning
That only yesterday
I would've missed
Why Do I Hate Mother's Day?
Touch,
Baskets of hands, flowering
Time and time again
Bounties all distilled, weigh nothing
This wisp, who really truly was, still is
Waiting, not for one second.
See,
The offspring, flocks of robot birds
Mad starvati0on, pecking
Her execution, a killing off
More than once
Clues emerge, like cursive.
Hear,
In one vestibule, at least
Obligates pays witness to sisters arriving
One million matriarchs, all shield maidens
Her boycott, loud as thunder
Burn it down, and take me home!
Wolves
Consider what it gives
And what it takes
Being happy for someone
You used to know
I read a book about some wolves
That hurt each other, to keep the balance
There I am, with binoculars
Studying The Jones
While swallowing as fast as I can
Air and meat
Am I being killed, or am I killing?
Time tells
A story about a family
That lived in a valley
And worked as a team
To rise, after losing a pup
Writer's Block
Suspicious spider
So daring, dropped
Her knitted flag to claim
The land I own, my private thoughts
Exaggerated because I say so
Eight times, pointing
Picky filaments, my Gettysburg
Of misty morning penny dreadfuls
Book-lung breaths on a fallow field
Dare me to think something
Let's tell it like it is
Which is to say, I killed her
Juicy morsel guesses
When? When? When?
I already told you I wasn't busy
And that I should've been
Not here, in neck deep water
Soaking like stew beef
My mind, like flies, on the red-eye
Schedule, a terror word
To drain the creepy joy
Do say! Do say!
What'd all been said, a web
Of fear? Or jealousy?
As if motive matters
When all you want is in here
You Hide, I'll Count
One Mississippi, Two Mississippi
I'm in the business of saving wet paper
It's forever
And it's flood stories
One Mississippi, Two Mississippi
I'm in the business of counting vast deltas
And it's never
Like flowing capillaries
One Mississippi, Two Mississippi
I'm in the business of making you happy
And it's clever
How I can hold my breath
You Poor Thing
She was beautiful
Like Nefertiti
Coughing on her own concerns
'Bout fading beauty
And oldness that hadn't even arrived yet
How many years did I waste
Feeling wretched for what?
Only lucky girls get
Too busy to enjoy
What is, words of comfort
Are a waist-line
My own age spots, a constellation
Of a warrior woman
With an arrow
Aimed right at her
You Were A Rocketship, For Patrick
It wasn't like you
As an us, you would've fought
But now, just you, you're resting
Leaning back on soft heels, touching
All the things you loved but sold
For extra cash, when times were tough
There is a place where you have gone
And I was not invited
At first, it made me happy
You were never okay in that skin
But now, I am scalding lonely
When we were children, you once said
"The day will come when I will fly
And you will see the afterburn
Like particles, big heat from a sorry son
Free at last!"
I never believed you'd do it
But there you are, watching chaos float
Like party trash in a swimming pool
How you can be so still, means only
That you are watching us
Through the window of a rocketship
And I feel the shame of wanting to stay
12/24