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Tag Archives: blood

Lillies In The Vase

27 Monday May 2019

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

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Tags

blood, Buddha, color, flower, life, Lillies, meditation, poem, Saffron

Maroon lips, the blood we cannot talk about
Buddha robes, patient orange sit with me ten minutes straight,
silent
or thinking thinking thinking,
name your thought is it salty or sweet
Saffron savory, orange tang touch it with your tongue you’ll never go away unsatisfied
(are you less thinking thinking thinking?)
Pink pale prim fuchsia blushing from behind happy to share water with you
let us walk, step right. Step left. Step right. 

A Hymn for You.

15 Saturday Dec 2018

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

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blood, crime, hymn, lost, poem, trauma, unknown victim, woman

No one was looking for you, but I guess I was meant to find you. 
It happens sometimes when you’re adventurous, curious, 
spelunking in roadside limestone caves or shuttered buildings
nobody has any business being in, but we go. 
Dare, we go. 

I want to believe that if I sprinkled water onto your bloodstain
shadow on the cement floor I could reconstitute you,
I could bring you back to us so I could know your name. 

No one was looking for you, but I guess I was meant to find you. 
Somebody’s daughter. Maybe somebody’s mama caught up in 
the life. They brung her down here for trade, 
you can tell because the torn condom wrappers say “ribbed for her pleasure.” 

The reconstituted you tells me you don’t know why things went wrong,
it was supposed to be a simple cop, but it turned into
something else she hardly cared about,
it would be over soon
and there was no reason to bring out the knife
she assures me. She was only fake fighting back, after all. 

She slides back down into her bloodstain 
her body taken wherever they took, quiet again. 
She bears no wounds of the holy martyr, pierced in the side by 
fated centurion, followers capturing the flood in a cup
prepared to write hymns for her future. 
She was only ribbed for your pleasure. 

I gathered wildflowers whose names I do not know. 
I knelt in a field and…
Maybe I’ll let you know when I’m ready to let them go. 

April 9 dream

10 Monday Apr 2017

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

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Tags

blood, carry, dream, heart, lynx

It could have been any parkway or turnpike, walking the white line at night with no cars passing by.  Each side of the road lined by grass and trees.   I am carrying a lynx in my arms. He is heavy. I can barely hold all of him, but he is content to be still and be carried. I carry him for a long, long time.  But then I come to a place in the road where it seems a large herd of deer tried to cross, and all that is left is blood-smeared asphalt and body parts. The lynx stirs. We smell the meat and blood and death, and it means very different things to us.  I keep walking, trying to find a place to get off the highway and come to an exit ramp meant only for the DOT.  Apparently I parked my car here, right next to that purple Pinto that parked sideways (asshole), but the space where my car should be is empty.  My car is gone.  I feel loss, deep loss.  Then I begin to doubt myself, did I park somewhere else, but no, this is where my car should be. I was carrying the lynx back to my car so I could take him home and take care of him, but without a car to take him home, what could I do?   I put him down.

I walked up the ramp a ways.  There were booths, like the kind you find at a carnival, and I walked towards them.  So many people. Everything was disorganized, some people were looking for their children, as if everyone watches after everyone else’s kids and has a general idea of where they are.  Lines of rope hanging everywhere, crisscrossed with trinkets for sale.  I heard someone ask for a slice of pizza, and I felt relieved that I could finally get something to eat. I stood in line.  A young girl comes and tears the black satin string from my throat. She hangs it up on the line where there was a space, and starts accusing me of taking it from “him,” whomever him might be.  There is a small, porcelain heart dangling from the string, and it is colored by the tiniest brushstrokes.  I told her, “He gave it to me. This was the way to find the music, he said.” She refused to hear my explanation and walked away, ready to sell the trinket to someone else.

Daylight was approaching.  So many people crowding this on ramp. An event was coming, that’s why they were all here.  I met a drill instructor who told me what was coming, that the sky would be filled with skydivers who would perform. I walked away, not interested.

April 4 dream

04 Tuesday Apr 2017

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

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Tags

blood, dream, manage, work

I’m not sure why I want to remember this dream. It’s unpleasant, but it has some things in it for me.

They asked me to come back to my old job, so this is where it begins, behind a desk in a quiet office.  I am streaming music softly in the background while I work, and Marybeth comes over the loudspeaker and says, “Whoever is playing that music, would you please turn it off??” And the whole office cheers.  I refused. She came out of her office to threaten me, and I told her, “All those years I listened to your shit music and never said anything? No. I’m not turning it off.”  But then an electronic “crisis” came, all computers stopped working.  My friend put her frozen tablet and phone down on my desk, and I noticed she was in the middle of texting my ex-boyfriend.  I told her she should either ask him out, or don’t ask him out, do something, but stop crying about it, and I walked away.

And then the blood came.  I was wearing gray jeans with black speckles, and the blood started pouring out of me.  Even though it was an office, there were rooms in the back furnished with bunk beds and drawers and file cabinets, decorated uniquely by each employee, like a kids room.  I started going through the drawers trying to find clean clothes. I grabbed some and then had to figure out where the bathroom was.  I sat on the toilet and the seat broke, so I fell in.

I came out and found myself in a room like a dining room, everyone was eating together, but I felt like there was still something I had to do.  I walked around rooms of people dining and talking quietly for a long time.  One of the salesmen arrived, and he was greeted happily, he was popular.  He asked me out to dinner, and I said, “I can think of no reason not to, but we have to take (my friend) along, too.”  Before he could reply, it was time for the office to close.

Now I’m in the warehouse. I’m in charge of closing the building. Two of the guys were playing around and didn’t seem to want to leave. One of the dock doors seemed stuck. Did anyone remember to give me a code to close the alarms? Yes, it was the same one I had before I left. I was trying to round them up and get them out so I could follow the closing procedures, but they were not cooperating.  Red graffiti spray-painted on gray concrete wall, green numbers on a giant overhead screen counting down minutes until the building closed.  And that is all.

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