Mine Na Poems

Erosion

I’m learning to go away in a ghost town
No worries
No one to behave for
No desires
No goals
No kin
The campfire is out
No equality
For the scales only balance for death
Plutonic future
To sink to the depths of the oceanic crust
To be joined in the endless sediment
Of burial
Of the metamorphosed
Of the melting
Of the upheaval                                                                                                                     To be crushed back down again                                                                                     In only hope to be once part of a fire opal

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Kryptonite

Mouthless Bell

Even if I’m shoutin, from the outside,
Does anyone listen to bells anymore?
Does anyone hear this striking noise?

How can I hold myself up?…when slipping on chalk dust floors.

And you live life in a centrifuge of hope.
But I cannot wish to be your paramount.
And I cannot wish to hold your gaze for so long.

Even if I’m shoutin, inside,
Can I even admit this to you?
For I need to scream,
But I have no mouth.

Even if I’m shoutin, inside,
It doesn’t really even matter.
For no one hears a worn out soul.

Please do not linger sunshine.
I’m thieving for a moon seat.

Art: Daehyun Kim Moonassi

Poem: Naomi Ruth

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Jay Poem 10.

Science Fiction

You asked me who I was.                     I told you I was a water fountain always going up to fall back down on myself.

I imagined your love was like my battered pores—always opening and closing.

Indifference, should it be this way? Better then broken.                         Are we really like goldfish?            That will die and be replaced.

Should I have asked for your forgiveness?                                       For I wanted that time as my great trial of love.

While you were away in science fiction…

I sat on those hard concrete steps…wore all black…twisted my rings.

Around 10:00 p.m. I had to sit on my hands to stop the urge to dig.

If you only met me back on that fiery October night; the dying of the red would never had started.

I nearly forgot you but when midwinter drew near, you left me in a way I thought I could never forgive myself for.

I was enticing like Helen, and I’m still drinking from that nepenthe cup.                                                         But the memories still abides in this numerical numbness.

Monkey Cup image: Pinterest

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Jay poem 6.

The Haunting of Soul Kitchen

That beautiful man sang            “Soul Kitchen.” How suitably sweet before our time. It brings me back to my cousin’s kitchen.

The feelings of JEALOUS RAGE and self-pity. For I did not join you in that mature circle. Left with kid brother, passed out on your green thumb ganja.

I sat in the living room pretending to protect him, but I was intending to protect myself. Self-persecution my lingering demon.

Do, Do you see what I mean?  For big sister was seductive as ever! You, You cautious but ever so nicely listened a lot…For she talked a lot. When I hear her say, “Do you want some?” You must’ve all been drinking darjeeling tea with your hypnotic weed.

While I lied on my belly, for my back was jittery from the paper I ate. As I gazed at Morrison Hotel, it was then that I felt you in that room— we called a living room.  No, No it was my breathing room! A haven of my own. Where you tore into my cunt, and Yes, Yes I let you! Only that time I was grounded to something true and entirely ours. For the night before, you pushed my back into the floor, and the day after I learned to forget the pain. I pushed up cobra style without a wince, to show that I had a strong back and I could take it anyway and anyhow you gave it. Why did I ignore your look? Because— Why, Why? I was a sad child in the anxious seat of love! Yes, Yes love! My mind screaming this as you retreated.

Since then, I allowed fierce turmoil to take hold of my heart. I allowed you to be stuck. In that Kit,Kitchen… alone, with maggots and chrome gadgets. Forever, under a fucking magnet! How, How to get you out?  Either…fear no more, what haunts beyond my breathing room.                                                        Or repeat, Learn to forget, learn to forget, learn to forget, learn to forget…(Jim Morrison)

Words: Na-omi S.                        Photo: Francesca Woodman appropriated and altered                     Music: The Doors

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